CHAPTER II.

Treaty At Uxbridge--Victories Of Montrose In Scotland--Defeat Of The King

At Naseby--Surrender Of Bristol--Charles Shut Up Within Oxford--Mission Of

Glamorgan To Ireland--He Is Disavowed By Charles, But Concludes A Peace

With The Irish--The King Intrigues With The Parliament, The Scots, And The

Independents--He Escapes To The Scottish Army--Refuses The Concessions

Required--Is Delivered Up By The Scots.

Whenever men spontaneously risk their lives and fortunes in the support of

a particular cause, they are wont to set a high value on their services,

and generally assume the right of expressing their opinions, and of

interfering with their advice. Hence it happened that the dissensions and

animosities in the court and army of the unfortunate monarch were scarcely

less violent or less dangerous than those which divided the parliamentary

leaders. All thought themselves entitled to offices and honours from the

gratitude of the sovereign; no appointment could be made which did not

deceive the expectations, and excite the murmurs, of numerous competitors;

and complaints were everywhere heard, cabals were formed, and the wisest

plans were frequently controlled and defeated, by men who thought

themselves neglected or aggrieved. When Charles, as one obvious remedy,

removed the lord Wilmot from the command of the cavalry, and the lord Percy

from that of the ordnance, he found that he had only aggravated the

evil; and the dissatisfaction of the army was further increased by the

substitution of his nephew Prince Rupert, whose severe and imperious temper

had earned him the general hatred, in the place of Ruthen, who, on account

of his infirmities, had been advised to retire.[1]

Another source of most acrimonious controversy was furnished by the

important question of peace or war, which formed a daily subject of debate

in every company, and divided the royalists into contending parties. Some

there were (few, indeed, in number, and chiefly those whom the two houses

by their votes had excluded from all hopes of pardon) who contended that

the king ought never to lay down his arms till victory should enable him to

give the law to his enemies; but the rest, wearied out with the fatigues

and dangers of war, and alarmed by the present sequestration of their

estates, and the ruin which menaced their families, most anxiously longed

for the restoration of peace. These, however, split into two parties; one

which left the conditions to the wisdom of the monarch; the other which not

only advised, but occasionally talked of compelling a reconciliation, on

almost any terms, pretending that, if once the king were reseated on his

throne, he must quickly recover every prerogative which he might have lost.

As for Charles himself, he had already suffered too much by the war, and

saw too gloomy a prospect before him, to be indifferent to the subject;

but, though he was now prepared to make sacrifices, from which but two

years before he would have recoiled with horror, he had still resolved

never to subscribe to conditions irreconcilable with his honour and

conscience; and in this temper of

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 482, 513, 554.]

mind he was confirmed by the frequent letters of Henrietta from Paris, who

reminded him of the infamy which he would entail on himself, were he, as

he was daily advised, to betray to the vengeance of the parliament the

Protestant bishops and Catholic royalists, who, trusting to his word,

had ventured their all for his interest.[1] He had now assembled _his_

parliament for the second time; but the attendance of the members was

scarce, and the inconvenience greater than the benefit. Motions were made

ungrateful to the feelings, and opposed to the real views of the king, who,

to free himself from the more obtrusive and importunate of these advisers,

sent them

[Footnote 1: This is the inference which I have drawn from a careful

perusal of the correspondence between Charles and the queen in his Works,

p. 142-150. Some writers have come to a different conclusion: that he

was insincere, and under the pretence of seeking peace, was in reality

determined to continue the war. That he prepared for the resumption of

hostilities is indeed true, but the reason which he gives to the queen is

satisfactory, "the improbability that this present treaty should produce

a peace, considering the great strange difference (if not contrariety) of

grounds that are betwixt the rebels' propositions and mine, and that I

cannot alter mine, nor will they ever theirs, until they be out of the hope

to prevail by force" (p. 146). Nor do I see any proof that Charles was

governed, as is pretended, by the queen. He certainly took his resolutions

without consulting her, and, if she sometimes expressed her opinion

respecting them, it was no more than any other woman in a similar situation

would have done. "I have nothing to say, but that you have a care of your

honour; and that, if you have a peace, it may be such as may hold; and if

it fall out otherwise, that you do not abandon those who have served you,

for fear they do forsake you in your need. Also I do not see how you can

be in safety without a regiment of guard; for myself, I think I cannot be,

seeing the malice which they have against me and my religion, of which I

hope you will have a care of both. But in my opinion, religion should

be the last thing upon which you should treat; for if you do agree upon

strictness against the Catholics, it would discourage them to serve you;

and if afterwards there should be no peace, you could never expect succours

either from Ireland, or any other Catholic prince, for they would believe

you would abandon them after you have served yourself" (p. 142, 143).]

into honourable exile, by appointing them[a] to give their attendance on

his queen during her residence in France.[1]

In the last summer the first use which he had made of each successive

advantage, was to renew[b] the offer of opening a negotiation for peace. It

convinced the army of the pacific disposition of their sovereign, and it

threw on the parliament, even among their own adherents, the blame of

continuing the war. At length,[c] after the third message, the houses gave

a tardy and reluctant consent; but it was not before they had received from

Scotland the propositions formerly voted as the only basis of a lasting

reconciliation, had approved of the amendments suggested by their allies,

and had filled up the blanks with the specification of the acts of

parliament to be passed, and with the names of the royalists to be excepted

from the amnesty. It was plain to every intelligent man in either army that

to lay such a foundation of peace was in reality to proclaim perpetual

hostilities.[2] But the king, by the advice of his council, consented to

make it the subject of a treaty, for two ends; to discover whether it was

the resolution of the houses to adhere without any modification to these

high pretensions; and to make the experiment, whether it were not possible

to gain one of the two factions, the Presbyterians or the Independents, or

at least to widen

[Footnote 1: See the letters in Charles's Works, 142-148. "I may fairly

expect to be chidden by thee for having suffered thee to be vexed by them

(Wilmot being already there, Percy on his way, and Sussex within a few

days of taking his journey), but that I know thou carest not for a little

trouble to free me from great inconvenience."--Ibid. 150.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, vii. 53. The very authors of the propositions did

not expect that the king would ever submit to them.--Baillie, ii. 8, 43,

73.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. July 4.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. Sept. 5.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1644. Nov. 23.] the breach between them by furnishing new

causes of dissension.[1]

At Uxbridge, within the parliamentary quarters, the commissioners from the

two parties met each other.[a] Those from the parliament had been commanded

to admit of no deviation from the substance of the propositions already

voted; to confine themselves to the task of showing that their demands were

conformable to reason, and therefore not to be refused; and to insist

that the questions of religion, the militia, and Ireland, should each

be successively debated during the term of three days, and continued in

rotation till twenty days had expired, when, if no agreement were made, the

treaty should terminate. They demanded that episcopacy should be abolished,

and the Directory be substituted in place of the Book of Common Prayer;

that the command of the army and navy should be vested in the two houses,

and intrusted by them to certain commissioners of their own appointment;

and that the cessation in Ireland should be broken, and hostilities

should be immediately renewed. The king's commissioners replied, that

his conscience would not allow him to consent to the proposed change of

religious worship, but that he was willing to consent to a law restricting

the jurisdiction of the bishops within the narrowest bounds, granting every

reasonable indulgence to tender consciences, and raising on the church

property the sum of one hundred thousand

[Footnote 1: Charles was now persuaded even to address the two houses by

the style of "the Lords and Commons assembled in the parliament of England

at Westminster," instead of "the Lords and Commons of parliament assembled

at Westminster," which he had formerly used.--Journals, vii. 91. He says

he would not have done it, if he could have found two in the council to

support him.--Works, 144, Evelyn's Mem. ii. App. 90. This has been alleged,

but I see not with what reason, as a proof of his insincerity in the

treaty.]

[Sidenote: A.D. 1645. Jan. 30.]

pounds, towards the liquidation of the public debt; that on the subject

of the army and navy he was prepared to make considerable concessions,

provided the power of the sword were, after a certain period, to revert

unimpaired to him and his successors; and that he could not, consistently

with his honour, break the Irish treaty, which he had, after mature

deliberation, subscribed and ratified. Much of the time was spent in

debates respecting the comparative merits of the episcopal and presbyterian

forms of church government, and in charges and recriminations as to the

real authors of the distress and necessity which had led to the cessation

in Ireland. On the twentieth day nothing had been concluded. A proposal

to prolong the negotiation was rejected by the two houses, and the

commissioners returned to London and Oxford.[a] The royalists had, however,

discovered that Vane, St. John, and Prideaux had come to Uxbridge not

so much to treat, as to act the part of spies on the conduct of their

colleagues; and that there existed an irreconcilable difference of opinion

between the two parties, the Presbyterians seeking the restoration

of royalty, provided it could be accomplished with perfect safety to

themselves, and with the legal establishment of their religious worship,

while the Independents sought nothing less than the total downfall of the

throne, and the extinction of the privileges of the nobility.[1]

Both parties again appealed to the sword, but with very different prospects

before them; on the side of the royalists all was lowering and gloomy, on

that of the parliament bright and cheering. The king had

[Footnote 1: See Journals, vii. 163, 166, 169, 174, 181, 195, 211, 231,

239, 242-254; Clarendon, ii. 578-600.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Feb. 22.]

derived but little of that benefit which he expected from the cessation in

Ireland. He dared not withdraw the bulk of his army before he had concluded

a peace with the insurgents; and they, aware of his difficulties, combined

their demands, which he knew not how to grant, with an offer of aid which

he was unwilling to refuse. They demanded freedom of religion, the repeal

of Poyning's law, a parliamentary settlement of their estates, and a

general amnesty, with this exception, that an inquiry should be instituted

into all acts of violence and bloodshed not consistent with the

acknowledged usages of war, and that the perpetrators should be punished

according to their deserts, without distinction of party or religion. It

was the first article which presented the chief difficulty. The Irish urged

the precedent of Scotland; they asked no more than had been conceded to the

Covenanters; they had certainly as just a claim to the free exercise of

that worship, which had been the national worship for ages, as the Scots

could have, to the exclusive establishment of a form of religion which had

not existed during an entire century. But Charles, in addition to his own

scruples, feared to irritate the prejudices of his Protestant subjects. He

knew that many of his own adherents would deem such a concession an act of

apostasy; and he conjured the Irish deputies not to solicit that which must

prove prejudicial to him, and therefore to themselves: let them previously

enable him to master their common enemies; let them place him in a

condition "to make them happy," and he assured them on the word of a king,

that he would not "disappoint their just expectations."[1] They were not,

however, to be satisfied

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, Irish Rebellion, 25.]

with vague promises, which might afterwards be interpreted as it suited

the royal convenience; and Charles, to throw the odium of the measure from

himself on his Irish counsellors, transferred the negotiation to Dublin,

to be continued by the new lord lieutenant, the marquess of Ormond. That

nobleman was at first left to his own discretion. He was then authorized

to promise the non-execution of the penal laws for the present, and their

repeal on the restoration of tranquillity; and, lastly, to stipulate for

their immediate repeal, if he could not otherwise subdue the obstinacy, or

remove the jealousy of the insurgents. The treaty at Uxbridge had disclosed

to the eyes of the monarch the abyss which yawned before him; he saw "that

the aim of his adversaries was a total subversion of religion and regal

power;" and he commanded Ormond to conclude the peace whatever it might

cost, provided it should secure the persons and properties of the Irish

Protestants, and the full exercise of the royal authority in the island.[1]

[Footnote 1: Carte's Ormond, ii. App. xii. xiv. xv. xviii. iii. cccxxxi.

He thus states his reasons to the lord lieutenant:--"It being now manifest

that the English rebels have, as far as in them lies, given the command

of Ireland to the Scots" (they had made Leslie, earl of Leven,

commander-in-chief of all the English as well as Scottish forces in

Ireland), "that their aim is the total subversion of religion and regal

power, and that nothing less will content them, or purchase peace here; I

think myself bound in conscience not to let slip the means of settling that

kingdom (if it may be) fully under my obedience, nor lose that assistance

which I may hope from my Irish subjects, for such scruples as in a less

pressing condition might reasonably be stuck at by me.... If the suspension

of Poining's act for such bills as shall be agreed upon between you there,

and the present taking away of the penal laws against papists by a law,

will do it, I shall not think it a hard bargain, so that freely and

vigorously they engage themselves in my assistance against my rebels of

England and Scotland, for which no conditions can be too hard, not being

against conscience or honour."--Charles's Works, 149, 150.]

In Scotland an unexpected but transient diversion had been made in favour

of the royal cause. The earls, afterwards marquesses, of Antrim and

Montrose had met in the court at Oxford. In abilities Montrose was inferior

to few, in ambition to none. The reader is aware that he had originally

fought in the ranks of the Covenanters, but afterwards transferred his

services to Charles, and narrowly escaped the vengeance of his enemies.

Now, that he was again at liberty, he aspired to the glory of restoring

the ascendancy of the royal cause in Scotland. At first all his plans were

defeated by the jealousy or wisdom of Hamilton; but Hamilton gradually

sunk, whilst his rival rose in the esteem of the sovereign.[1] Antrim, his

associate, was weak and capricious, but proud of his imaginary consequence,

and eager to engage in undertakings to which neither his means nor his

talents were equal. He had failed in his original attempt to surprise the

castle of Dublin; and had twice fallen into the hands of the Scots in

Ulster, and twice made his escape; still his loyalty or presumption

was unsubdued, and he had come to Oxford to make a third tender of his

services.

[Footnote 1: When Hamilton arrived at Oxford, Dec. 16, 1643, several

charges were brought against him by the Scottish royalists, which with his

answers may be seen in Burnet, Memoirs, 250-269. Charles pronounced no

opinion; but his suspicions were greatly excited by the deception practised

by Hamilton on the lords of the royal party at the convention, and his

concealment from them of the king's real intentions. On this account

Hamilton was arrested, and conveyed to Pendennis Castle, in Cornwall,

where he remained a prisoner till the place was taken by the parliamentary

forces. Hamilton's brother Lanark was also forbidden to appear at court;

and, having received advice that he would be sent to the castle of Ludlow,

made his escape from Oxford to his countrymen in London, and thence

returned to Edinburgh. His offence was, that he, as secretary, had affixed

the royal signet to the proclamation of August 24, calling on all Scotsmen

to arm in support of the new league and covenant.--See p. 36.]

Both Antrim and Montrose professed themselves the personal enemies of

the earl of Argyle, appointed by the Scottish estates lieutenant of the

kingdom; and they speedily arranged a plan, which possessed the double

merit of combining the interest of the king with the gratification of

private revenge. Having obtained the royal commission,[1] Antrim proceeded

to Ulster, raised eleven or fifteen hundred men among his dependants, and

despatched them to the opposite coast of Scotland under the command of his

kinsman Alaster Macdonald, surnamed Colkitto.[2] They landed at Knoydart:

the destruction of their ships in Loch Eishord, by a hostile fleet,

deprived them of the means of returning to Ireland; and Argyle with a

superior force cautiously watched their motions.[a] From the Scottish

royalists they received no aid; yet Macdonald marched as far as Badenoch,

inflicting severe injuries on the Covenanters, but exposed to destruction

from the increasing multitude of his foes. In the mean time, Montrose,

with the rank of lieutenant-general, had unfurled the royal standard at

Dumfries;[b] but with so little success, that he hastily retraced his steps

to Carlisle, where by several daring actions he rendered such services to

the royal cause, that he received the title of marquess from the gratitude

of the king. But the fatal battle of Marston Moor induced him to turn his

thoughts once more towards Scotland;[c] and having ordered his followers to

proceed to Oxford, on

[Footnote 1: He was authorized to treat with the confederate Catholics for

ten thousand men; if their demands were too high, to raise as many men as

he could and send them to the king; to procure the loan of two thousand men

to be landed in Scotland; and to offer Monroe, the Scottish commander, the

rank of earl and a pension of two thousand pounds per annum, if with his

army he would join the royalists. Jan. 20, 1644.--Clarendon Papers, ii.

165.]

[Footnote 2: MacColl Keitache, son of Coll, the left-handed.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. July 8.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. April 13.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1644. May 6.]

the third day he silently withdrew with only two companions, and soon

afterwards reached in the disguise of a groom the foot of the Grampian

Hills. There he received intelligence of the proceedings of Macdonald,

and appointed to join him in Athole.[a] At the castle of Blair, which had

surrendered to the strangers, the two chieftains met: Montrose assumed the

command, published the royal commission, and called on the neighbouring

clans to join the standard of their sovereign. The Scots, who had scorned

to serve under a foreigner, cheerfully obeyed, and to the astonishment of

the Covenanters an army appeared to rise out of the earth in a quarter the

most remote from danger; but it was an army better adapted to the purpose

of predatory invasion than of permanent warfare. Occasionally it swelled to

the amount of several thousands: as often it dwindled to the original band

of Irishmen under Macdonald. These, having no other resource than

their courage, faithfully clung to their gallant commander in all the

vicissitudes of his fortune; the Highlanders, that they might secure their

plunder, frequently left him to flee before the superior multitude of his

foes.

The first who dared to meet the royalists in the field, was the lord Elcho,

whose defeat at Tippermuir gave to the victors the town of Perth, with a

plentiful supply of military stores and provisions.[b] From Perth they

marched towards Aberdeen; the Lord Burley with his army fled at the first

charge; and the pursuers entered the gates with the fugitives.[c] The sack

of the town lasted three days: by the fourth many of the Highlanders had

disappeared with the spoil; and Argyle approached with a superior force.[d]

Montrose, to avoid the enemy, led his followers into Banff, proceeded

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. August 1.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. Sept. 1.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1644. Sept. 12.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1644. Sept. 19.]

along the right bank of the Spey, crossed the mountains of Badenoch, passed

through Athole into Angus, and after a circuitous march of some hundred

miles, reached and took the castle of Fyvie. There he was overtaken by the

Covenanters, whom he had so long baffled by the rapidity and perplexity of

his movements.[a] But every attempt to force his position on the summit of

a hill was repelled; and on the retirement of the enemy, he announced to

his followers his intention of seeking a safer asylum in the Highlands.

Winter had already set in with severity; and his Lowland associates shrunk

from the dreary prospect before them; but Montrose himself, accompanied by

his more faithful adherents, gained without opposition the braes of Athole.

To Argyle the disappearance of the royalists was a subject of joy.

Disbanding the army, he repaired, after a short visit to Edinburgh, to his

castle of Inverary, where he reposed in security, aware, indeed, of the

hostile projects of Montrose, but trusting to the wide barrier of snows

and mountains which separated him from his enemy. But the royal leader

penetrated through this Alpine wilderness,[b] compelled Argyle to save

himself in an open boat on Loch Tyne, and during six weeks wreaked his

revenge on the domains and the clansmen of the fugitive. At the approach of

Argyle with eleven hundred regular troops, he retired; but suddenly turning

to the left, crossed the mountains, and issuing from Glennevis, surprised

his pursuers at Inverlochy in Lochabar.[c] From his galley in the Frith

Argyle beheld the assault of the enemy, the shock of the combatants, and

the slaughter of at least one half of his whole force.[d] This victory

placed the north of Scotland at the mercy of the conquerors.

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. Oct. 28.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. Dec. 13.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. Jan. 28.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. Feb. 2.]

From Inverlochy they marched to Elgin, and from Elgin to Aberdeen,

ravaging, as they passed, the lands, and burning the houses of the

Covenanters. But at Brechin, Baillie opposed their progress with a[a]

numerous and regular force. Montrose turned in the direction of Dunkeld;

Baillie marched to Perth. The former surprised the opulent town of Dundee;

the latter arrived in time to expel the plunderers. But[b] he pursued in

vain. They regained the Grampian hills, where in security they once more

bade defiance to the whole power of the enemy. Such was the short and

eventful campaign of Montrose. His victories, exaggerated by report, and

embellished by the fancy of the hearers, cast a faint and deceitful lustre

over the declining cause of royalty. But they rendered no other service.

His passage was that of a meteor, scorching every thing in its course.

Wherever he appeared, he inflicted the severest injuries; but he made no

permanent conquest; he taught the Covenanters to tremble at his name,

but he did nothing to arrest that ruin which menaced the throne and its

adherents.[1]

England, however, was the real arena on which the conflict was to be

decided, and in England the king soon found himself unable to cope with his

enemies. He still possessed about one-third of the kingdom. From Oxford he

extended his sway almost without interruption to the extremity of Cornwall:

North and South Wales, with the exception of the castles of Pembroke and

Montgomery, acknowledged his authority; and the royal standard was still

unfurled in several

[Footnote 1: See Rushworth, v. 928-932; vi. 228; Guthrie, 162-183; Baillie,

ii. 64, 65, 92-95; Clarendon, ii. 606, 618; Wishart, 67, 110; Journals,

vii. 566; Spalding, ii. 237.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. March 25.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. April 4.]

towns in the midland comities.[1] But his army, under the nominal command

of the prince of Wales, and the real command of Prince Rupert, was

frittered away in a multitude of petty garrisons, and languished in a state

of the most alarming insubordination. The generals, divided into factions,

presumed to disobey the royal orders, and refused to serve under an

adversary or a rival; the officers indulged in every kind of debauchery;

the privates lived at free quarters; and the royal forces made themselves

more terrible to their friends by their licentiousness than to their

enemies by their valour.[2] Their excesses provoked new associations in the

counties of Wilts, Dorset, Devon, Somerset, and Worcester, known by the

denomination of Clubmen, whose primary object was the protection of private

property, and the infliction of summary vengeance on the depredators

belonging to either army. These associations were encouraged and organized

by the neighbouring gentlemen; arms of every description were collected for

their use; and they were known to assemble in numbers of four, six,

and even ten thousand men. Confidence in their own strength, and the

suggestions of their leaders, taught them to extend their views; they

invited the adjoining counties to follow their example, and talked of

putting an end by force to the unnatural war which depopulated the country.

But though they professed to observe the strictest neutrality between the

contending parties, their meetings excited a well-founded jealousy

[Footnote 1: Rushworth, vi. 18-22.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, ii. 604, 633, 636, 642, 661, 668. "Good men are so

scandalized at the horrid impiety of our armies, that they will not believe

that God can bless any cause in such hands."--Lord Culpeper to Lord Digby.

Clarendon Papers, ii. 189. Carte's Ormond, iii. 396, 399.]

on the part of the parliamentary leaders; who, the moment it could be done

without danger, pronounced such associations illegal, and ordered them to

be suppressed by military force.[1]

On the other side, the army of the parliament had been reformed according

to the ordinance. The members of both houses had resigned their

commissions, with the exception of a single individual, the very man with

whom the measure had originated,--Lieutenant-General Cromwell. This by

some writers has been alleged as a proof of the consummate art of that

adventurer, who sought to remove out of his way the men that stood between

him and the object of his ambition; but the truth is, that his continuation

in the command was effected by a succession of events which he could not

possibly have foreseen. He had been sent with Waller to oppose the progress

of the royalists in the west; on his return he was ordered to prevent the

junction of the royal cavalry with the forces under the king; and he then

received a commission to protect the associated counties from insult.

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 665. Whitelock, March, 4, 11, 15. Rushw. vi.

52, 53, 61, 62. But the best account of the Clubmen is to be found in a

letter from Fairfax to the committee of both kingdoms, preserved in the

Journals of the Lords, vii. 184. They wore white ribbons for a distinction,

prevented, as much as they were able, all hostilities between the soldiers

of the opposite parties, and drew up two petitions in the same words, one

to be presented to the king, the other to the parliament, praying them

to conclude a peace, and in the meantime to withdraw their respective

garrisons out of the country, and pledging themselves to keep possession of

the several forts and castles, and not to surrender them without a joint

commission from both king and parliament. Fairfax observes, that "their

heads had either been in actual service in the king's army, or were known

favourers of the party. In these two counties, Wilts and Dorset, they are

abundantly more affected to the enemy than to the parliament. I know not

what they may attempt."--Ibid. At length the two houses declared

all persons associating in arms without authority, traitors to the

commonwealth.--Journals, vii. 549.]

While he was employed in this service, the term appointed by the ordinance

approached; but Fairfax expressed his unwillingness to part with so

experienced an officer at such a crisis, and the two houses consented that

he should remain forty days longer with the army. Before they expired, the

great battle of Naseby had been fought: in consequence of the victory the

ordinance was suspended three months in his favour; and afterwards the same

indulgence was reiterated as often as it became necessary.[1]

It was evident that the army had lost nothing by the exclusion of members

of parliament and the change in its organization. The commanders were

selected from those who had already distinguished themselves by the

splendour of their services and their devotion to the cause; the new

regiments were formed of privates, who had served under Essex, Manchester,

and Waller, and care was taken that the majority of both should consist

of that class of religionists denominated Independents. These men were

animated with an enthusiasm of which at the present day we cannot form an

adequate conception. They divided their time between military duties and

prayer; they sang psalms as they advanced to the charge; they called on the

name of the Lord, while they were slaying their enemies. The result showed

that fanaticism furnished a more powerful stimulus than loyalty; the

soldiers of God proved more than a match for the soldiers of the

monarch.[2]

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 27, May 10, June 16, Aug. 8. Lords' Journ. vii.

420, 535.]

[Footnote 2: Essex, Manchester, and Denbigh reluctantly tendered their

resignations the day before the ordinance passed. The first died in the

course of the next year (Sept. 14); and the houses, to express their

respect for his memory, attended the funeral, and defrayed the expense out

of the public purse.--Lords' Journals, viii. 508, 533.]

Charles was the first to take the field. He marched from Oxford at the head

of ten thousand men, of whom more than one-half were cavalry; the siege of

Chester[a] was raised at the sole report of his approach; and Leicester, an

important post in possession of the parliament,[b] was taken by storm on

the first assault. Fairfax[c] had appeared with his army before Oxford,

where he expected to be admitted by a party within the walls; but the

intrigue failed, and he received orders to proceed[d] in search of the

king.[1] On the evening of the[e] seventh day his van overtook the rear of

the royalists between Daventry and Harborough. Fairfax and his officers

hailed with joy the prospect of a battle. They longed to refute the bitter

taunts and sinister predictions of their opponents in the two houses; to

prove that want of experience might be supplied by the union of zeal and

talent; and to establish, by a victory over the king, the superiority of

the Independent over the Presbyterian party. Charles, on the contrary,

had sufficient reason to decline an engagement.[2] His numbers had been

diminished by the necessity of leaving a strong garrison in Leicester,

and several reinforcements were still on their march to join the royal

standard. But in the presence of the Roundheads the Cavaliers never

listened to the suggestions of prudence. Early[f] in the morning the royal

army formed in line about a mile south of Harborough. Till eight they

awaited with patience the expected charge of the enemy; but

[Footnote 1: Lords' Journals, vii. 429, 431.]

[Footnote 2: So little did Charles anticipate the approach of the enemy,

that On the 12th he amused himself with hunting, and on the 13th at supper

time wrote to secretary Nicholas that he should march the next morning,

and proceed through Landabay and Melton to Belvoir, but no further. Before

midnight he had resolved to fight.--See his letter in Evelyn's Memoirs, ii.

App. 97.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. May 7.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. May 15.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. May 31.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. June 6.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1645. June 13.]

[Sidenote f: A.D. 1645. June 14.]

Fairfax refused to move from his strong position near Naseby, and the king,

yielding to the importunity of his officers, gave the word to advance.

Prince Rupert commanded on the right. The enemy fled before him; six pieces

of cannon were taken, and Ireton, the general of the parliamentary horse,

was wounded, and for some time a prisoner in the hands of the victors.[1]

But the lessons of experience had been thrown away upon Rupert. He urged

the pursuit with his characteristic impetuosity, and, as at Marston Moor,

by wandering from the field suffered the victory to be won by the masterly

conduct of Oliver Cromwell.

That commander found himself opposed to a weak body of cavalry under Sir

Marmaduke Langdale. By both the fight was maintained with obstinate valour;

but superiority of numbers enabled the former to press on the flanks of the

royalists, who began to waver, and at last turned their backs and fled.

Cromwell prudently checked the pursuit, and leaving three squadrons to

watch the fugitives, directed the remainder of his force against the rear

of the royal infantry. That body of men, only three thousand five hundred

in number, had hitherto fought with the most heroic valour, and had driven

the enemy's line, with the exception of one regiment, back on the reserve;

but this unexpected charge broke their spirit; they threw down their arms

and asked for quarter. Charles, who had witnessed their efforts and their

danger, made every exertion to support them; he collected several

[Footnote 1: Ireton was of an ancient family in Nottinghamshire, and bred

to the law. He raised a troop of horse for the parliament at the beginning

of the war, and accepted a captain's commission in the new-modelled army.

At the request of the officers, Cromwell had been lately appointed

general of the horse, and, at Cromwell's request, Ireton was made

commissary-general under him.--Journals, vii. 421. Rushworth, vi. 42.]

bodies of horse; he put himself at their head; he called on them to follow

him; he assured them that one more effort would secure the victory. But the

appeal was made in vain. Instead of attending to his prayers and commands,

they fled, and forced him to accompany them. The pursuit was continued with

great slaughter almost to the walls of Leicester; and one hundred females,

some of them ladies of distinguished rank, were put to the sword under the

pretence that they were Irish Catholics. In this fatal battle, fought near

the village of Naseby, the king lost more than three thousand men, nine

thousand stand of arms, his park of artillery, the baggage of the army, and

with it his own cabinet, containing private papers of the first importance.

Out of these the parliament made a collection, which was published, with

remarks, to prove to the nation the falsehoods of Charles, and the justice

of the war.[1]

[Footnote 1: For this battle see Clarendon, ii. 655; Rushworth, vi. 42; and

the Journals, vii. 433-436. May asserts that not more than three hundred

men were killed on the part of the king, and only one hundred on that of

the parliament. The prisoners amounted to five thousand.--May, 77. The

publication of the king's papers has been severely censured by his friends,

and as warmly defended by the advocates of the parliament. If their

contents were of a nature to justify the conduct of the latter, I see not

on what ground it could be expected that they should be suppressed. The

only complaint which can reasonably be made, and which seems founded in

fact, is that the selection of the papers for the press was made unfairly.

The contents of the cabinet were several days in possession of the

officers, and then submitted to the examination of a committee of the lower

house; by whose advice certain papers were selected and sent to the Lords,

with a suggestion that they should be communicated to the citizens in

a common hall. But the Lords required to see the remainder; twenty-two

additional papers were accordingly produced; but it was at the same time

acknowledged that others were still kept back, because they had not yet

been deciphered. By an order of the Commons the papers were afterwards

printed with a preface contrasting certain passages in them with the king's

former protestations.--Journals, June 23, 26, 30, July 3, 7; Lords', vii.

467, 469. Charles himself acknowledges that the publication, as far as it

went, was genuine (Evelyn's Memoirs, App. 101); but he also maintains that

other papers, which would have served to explain doubtful passages, had

been purposely suppressed.--Clarendon Papers, ii. 187. See Baillie, ii.

136.]

After this disastrous battle, the campaign presented little more than the

last and feeble struggles of an expiring party. Among the royalists hardly

a man could be found who did not pronounce the cause to be desperate; and,

if any made a show of resistance, it was more through the hope of procuring

conditions for themselves, than of benefiting the interests of their

sovereign. Charles himself bore his misfortunes with an air of magnanimity,

which was characterized as obstinacy by the desponding minds of his

followers. As a statesman he acknowledged the hopelessness of his cause; as

a Christian he professed to believe that God would never allow rebellion

to prosper; but, let whatever happen, he at least would act as honour and

conscience called on him to act; his name should not descend to posterity

as the name of a king who had abandoned the cause of God, injured the

rights of his successors, and sacrificed the interests of his faithful

and devoted adherents. From Leicester he retreated[a] to Hereford; from

Hereford to Ragland Castle, the seat of the loyal marquess of Worcester;

and thence to Cardiff, that he might more readily communicate with Prince

Rupert at Bristol. Each day brought him a repetition of the most melancholy

intelligence. Leicester had surrendered almost at the[b] first summons; the

forces under Goring, the only body of royalists deserving the name of an

army, were defeated by Fairfax at Lamport; Bridgewater, hitherto[c] deemed

an impregnable fortress, capitulated after a[d]

[Transcriber's Note: No footnote 1 in the text]

[Footnote 1: Rushworth vi. 132. Clarendon, ii. 630.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645 July 3.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645 June 17.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645 July 10.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1645 July 23.]

short siege; a chain of posts extending from that town to Lime, on the

southern coast, cut off Devonshire and Cornwall, his principal resources,

from all communication with the rest of the kingdom; and, what was still

worse, the dissensions which raged among his officers and partisans in

those counties could not be appeased either by the necessity of providing

for the common safety, or by the presence and authority of the prince of

Wales.[1] To add to his embarrassments, his three[a] fortresses in the

north, Carlisle, Pontefract, and Scarborough,[b] which for eighteen months

had defied all the efforts of the enemy, had now fallen, the first into

the[c] hands of the Scots, the other two into those of the parliament.

Under this accumulation of misfortunes many of his friends, and among them

Rupert himself, hitherto the declared advocate of war, importuned him to

yield to necessity, and to accept the conditions offered by the parliament.

He replied that they viewed[d] the question with the eyes of mere soldiers

and statesmen; but he was a king, and had duties to perform, from which no

change of circumstances, no human power could absolve him,--to preserve

the church, protect his friends, and transmit to his successors the lawful

rights of the crown. God was bound to support his own cause: he might for a

time permit rebels and traitors to prosper, but he would ultimately humble

them before the throne of their sovereign.[2] Under

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 663, et seq. Rushw. vi. 50, 55, 57. Carte's

Ormond, iii. 423.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, ii. 679. Lords' Journals, vii. 667. Only three days

before his arrival at Oxford, he wrote (August 25) a letter to secretary

Nicholas, with an order to publish its contents, that it was his fixed

determination, by the grace of God, never, in any possible circumstances,

to yield up the government of the church to papists, Presbyterians, or

Independents, nor to injure his successors by lessening the ecclesiastical

or military power bequeathed to him by his predecessors, nor to forsake

the defence of his friends, who had risked their lives and fortunes in his

quarrel.--Evelyn's Memoirs, ii. App. 104.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. June 28.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. July 21.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. July 25.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. July 31.]

this persuasion, he pictured to himself the wonderful things to be achieved

by the gallantry of Montrose in Scotland, and looked forward with daily

impatience to the arrival of an imaginary army of twenty thousand men from

Ireland. But from such dreams he was soon awakened by the rapid increase of

disaffection in the population around him, and by the rumoured advance of

the Scots to besiege the city of Hereford. From Cardiff he hastily crossed

the kingdom to Newark. Learning that the Scottish cavalry were in pursuit,

he[a] left Newark, burst into the associated counties, ravaged the lands of

his enemies, took the town of Huntingdon,[b] and at last reached in safety

his court at Oxford.[c] It was not that in this expedition he had in view

any particular object. His utmost ambition was, by wandering from place

to place, to preserve himself from falling into the hands of his enemies

before the winter. In that season the severity of the weather would afford

him sufficient protection, and he doubted not, that against the spring the

victories of Montrose, the pacification of Ireland, and the compassion of

his foreign allies, would enable him to resume hostilities with a powerful

army, and with more flattering prospects of success.[1]

At Oxford Charles heard of the victory gained at Kilsyth, in the

neighbourhood of Stirling, by Montrose, who, if he had been compelled to

retreat from Dundee, was still able to maintain the superiority in the

Highlands. The first who ventured to measure[d] swords with the Scottish

hero was the veteran general

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 677. Rushw. vi. 131. Carte's Ormond, iii. 415,

416, 418, 420, 423, 427. Baillie, ii, 152.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. August 21.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. August 24.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. August 28.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. May 5.]

Hurry: but the assailant fled from the conflict at Auldearn, and saved

himself, with the small remnant of his force, within the walls of

Inverness. To Hurry[a] succeeded with similar fortune Baillie, the

commander-in-chief. The battle was fought at Alford, in the shire of

Aberdeen; and few, besides the principal officers and the cavalry, escaped

from the slaughter. A new army of ten thousand men was collected: four days

were spent in fasting and prayer; and the host of God marched to trample

under foot the host of the king. But the experience of their leader was

controlled by the presumption of the committee of estates; and he, in

submission to their orders, marshalled his men in a position near Kilsyth:

his cavalry was broken by the[b] royalists at the first charge; the

infantry fled without a blow, and about five thousand of the fugitives are

said to have perished in the pursuit, which was continued for fourteen

or twenty miles.[1] This victory placed the Lowlands at the mercy of the

conqueror. Glasgow and the neighbouring shires solicited his clemency; the

citizens of Edinburgh sent to him the prisoners who had been condemned for

their adherence to the royal cause; and many of the nobility, hastening

to his standard, accepted commissions to raise forces in the name of the

sovereign. At this news the[c] Scottish cavalry, which, in accordance with

the treaty of "brotherly assistance," had already advanced to Nottingham,

marched back to the Tweed to protect their own country; and the king on the

third day left Oxford with five thousand men, to drive the infantry

[Footnote 1: It was probably on account of the heat of the season

that Montrose ordered his men to throw aside their plaids--vestes

molestiores--and fight in their shirts; an order which has given occasion

to several fanciful conjectures and exaggerations;--See Carte, iv. 538.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. July 2.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. August 15.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. August 26.]

from the siege of Hereford. They did not wait his arrival, and he entered

the city amidst the joyful acclamations of the inhabitants.[1]

But Charles was not long suffered to enjoy his[a] triumph. Full of

confidence, he had marched from Hereford to the relief of Bristol; but at

Ragland Castle learned that it was already in possession of the enemy.

This unexpected stroke quite unnerved him. That a prince of his family, an

officer whose reputation for courage and fidelity was unblemished, should

surrender in the third week of the siege an important city, which he had

promised to maintain for four months, appeared to him incredible. His mind

was agitated with suspicion and jealousy. He knew not whether to attribute

the conduct of his nephew to cowardice, or despondency, or disaffection;

but he foresaw and lamented its baneful influence on the small remnant of

his followers. In the anguish of his mind[b] he revoked the commission

of the prince, and commanded him to quit the kingdom; he instructed the

council to watch his conduct, and on the first sign of disobedience to take

him into custody; and he ordered the arrest of his friend Colonel Legge,

and appointed Sir Thomas Glenham to succeed Legge, as governor of Oxford.

"Tell my sone," he says in a letter to Nicholas, "that I shall lesse

grieeve to hear that he is knoked in the head, than that he should doe so

meane an act as is the rendering of Bristoll castell and fort upon the

termes it was."[2]

[Footnote 1: Rushworth, vi. 230. May. Guthrie, 194. Baillie, ii. 156, 157,

273. This defeat perplexed the theology of that learned man. I confess I am

amazed, and cannot see to my mind's satisfaction, the reasons of the

Lord's dealing with that land.... What means the Lord, so far against the

expectation of the most clear-sighted, to humble us so low, and by his own

immediate hand, I confess I know not."--Ibid.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, ii. 693. Rushworth, vi. 66-82. Journals, vi. 584.

Ellis, iii. 311. Evelyn's Memoirs, ii. App, 108. The suspicion of Legge's

fidelity was infused into the royal mind by Digby. Charles wished him to

be secured, but refused to believe him guilty without better proof.--Ibid,

111.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Sept. 10.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 14.]

Whilst the king thus mourned over the loss of Bristol, he received still

more disastrous intelligence from Scotland. The victory of Kilsyth had

dissolved the royal army. The Gordons with their followers had returned to

their homes; Colkitto. had led back the Highlanders to their mountains;

and with the remnants not more than six hundred repaired to the borders

to await the arrival of an English force which had been promised, but not

provided, by Charles. In the mean while David Leslie had been detached with

four thousand cavalry from the Scottish army in England. He crossed the

Tweed,[a] proceeded northward, as if he meant to interpose himself between

the enemy and the Highlands; and then returned suddenly to surprise them

in their encampment at Philiphaugh. Montrose spent the night at Selkirk in

preparing despatches for the king; Leslie, who was concealed at no great

distance, crossing the Etrick at dawn, under cover of a dense fog,

charged[b] unexpectedly into the camp of the royalists, who lay in heedless

security on the Haugh. Their leader, with his guard of horse, flew to their

succour; but, after a chivalrous but fruitless effort was compelled

to retire and abandon them to their fate. The greater part had formed

themselves into a compact body, and kept the enemy at bay till their offer

of surrender upon terms had been accepted. But then the ministers loudly

demanded their lives; they pronounced the capitulation sinful, and

therefore void; and had the satisfaction to behold the whole body of

captives massacred in

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Sept. 6.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 13.]

cold blood, not the men only, but also every woman and child found upon the

Haugh. Nor was this sacrifice sufficient. Forty females, who had made their

escape, and had been secured by the country people, were a few days later

delivered up to the victors, who, in obedience to the decision of the kirk,

put them to death by throwing them from the bridge near Linlithgow into

the river Avon. Afterwards the Scottish parliament approved of their

barbarities, on the pretence that the victims were papists from Ireland;

and passed an ordinance that the "Irische prisoners taken at and after

Philiphaughe, in all the prisons in the kingdom, should be _execut_ without

any assaye or processes conform to the treatey betwixt both kingdoms."[1]

Of the noblemen and gentlemen who fled with Montrose, many were also taken;

and of these few escaped the hands of the executioner: Montrose himself

threaded back his way to the Highlands, where he once more raised the royal

standard, and, with a small force and diminished reputation, continued to

bid defiance to his enemies. At length, in obedience to repeated messages

from the king, he dismissed his followers, and reluctantly withdrew to the

continent.[2] With the defeat of Montrose at Philiphaugh vanished those

brilliant hopes with which the king had consoled himself for his former

losses; but the activity of his enemies allowed him no leisure to indulge

his grief; they had already formed a lodgment within the

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iii. 341. Thurloe, i. 72. The next year the garrison

of Dunavertie, three hundred men, surrendered to David Leslie "at the

kingdom's mercie." "They put to the sword," says Turner, "everie mother's

sonne except one young man, Machoul, whose life I begged."--Turner's

Memoirs, 46, also 48.]

[Footnote 2: Rush. vi. 237. Guthrie, 301. Journals, vi. 584. Wishart, 203.

Baillie, ii. 164.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Dec. 23.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 3.]

suburbs of Chester, and threatened to deprive him of that, the only port by

which he could maintain a communication with Ireland. He hastened to its

relief, and was followed at the distance of a day's journey by Pointz, a

parliamentary officer. It was the king's intention[a] that two attacks, one

from the city, the other from the country, should be simultaneously made on

the camp of the besiegers; and with this view he left the greater part of

the royal cavalry at Boutenheath, under Sir Marmaduke Langdale, while he

entered Chester himself with the remainder in the dusk of the evening.

It chanced that Pointz meditated a similar attempt with the aid of the

besiegers, on the force under Langdale; and the singular position of the

armies marked the following day with the most singular vicissitudes of

fortune. Early in the morning[b] the royalists repelled the troops under

Pointz; but a detachment from the camp restored the battle, and forced them

to retire under the walls of the city. Here, with the help of the king's

guards, they recovered the ascendancy, but suffered themselves in the

pursuit to be entangled among lanes and hedges lined with infantry, by whom

they were thrown into irremediable disorder. Six hundred troopers fell

in the action, more than a thousand obtained quarter, and the rest were

scattered in every direction. The next night Charles repaired to Denbigh,

collected the fugitives around him, and, skilfully avoiding Pointz,

hastened[c] to Bridgenorth, where he was met by his nephew Maurice from the

garrison of Worcester.[1]

The only confidential counsellor who attended the king in this expedition

was Lord Digby. That nobleman,

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 712. Thurloe, i. 3. Rush. vi. 117. Journals,

vi. 608.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Sept. 23.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 23.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. Sept. 30.]

unfortunately for the interests of his sovereign, had incurred the hatred

of his party: of some, on account of his enmity to prince Rupert; of the

general officers, because he was supposed to sway the royal mind, even in

military matters; and of all who desired peace, because to his advice was

attributed the obstinacy of Charles in continuing the war. It was the

common opinion that the king ought to fix his winter quarters at Worcester;

but Digby, unwilling to be shut up during four months in a city of which

the brother of Rupert was governor, persuaded him to proceed[a] to his

usual asylum at Newark. There, observing that the discontent among the

officers increased, he parted[b] from his sovereign, but on an important

and honourable mission. The northern horse, still amounting to fifteen

hundred men, were persuaded by Langdale to attempt a junction with the

Scottish hero, Montrose, and to accept of Digby as commander-in-chief. The

first achievement of the new general was the complete dispersion of the

parliamentary infantry in the neighbourhood of Doncaster; but in a few

days his own followers were dispersed by Colonel Copley at Sherburne.

They rallied[c] at Skipton, forced their way through Westmoreland and

Cumberland, and penetrated as far as Dumfries, but could nowhere meet with

intelligence of their Scottish friends. Returning to the borders, they

disbanded near Carlisle, the privates retiring to their homes, the officers

transporting themselves to the Isle of Man. Langdale remained at Douglas;

Digby proceeded to the marquess of Ormond in Ireland.

Charles, during his stay at Newark, was made to

[Transcriber's Note: Footnote 1 not found in the text]

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, Hist. ii. 714. Clarendon Papers, ii. 199.

Rushworth, vi. 131.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Oct. 4.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Oct. 12.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. Oct. 15.]

feel that with his good fortune he had lost his authority. His two nephews,

the Lord Gerard, and about twenty other officers, entered his chamber, and,

in rude and insulting language, charged him with ingratitude for their

services, and undue partiality for the traitor Digby. The king lost the

command of his temper, and, with more warmth than he was known to have

betrayed on any other occasion, bade them quit his presence for ever. They

retired, and the next morning received passports to go where they pleased.

But it was now[a] time for the king himself to depart. The enemy's forces

multiplied around Newark, and the Scots were advancing to join the

blockade. In the dead of the night[b] he stole, with five hundred men, to

Belvoir Castle; thence, with the aid of experienced guides, he threaded the

numerous posts of the enemy; and on the second day reached, for the last

time,[c] the walls of Oxford. Yet if he were there in safety, it was owing

to the policy of the parliament, who deemed it more prudent to reduce the

counties of Devon and Cornwall, the chief asylum of his adherents. For this

purpose Fairfax, with the grand army, sat down before Exeter: Cromwell

had long ago swept away the royal garrisons between that city and the

metropolis.[1]

The reader will have frequently remarked the king's impatience for the

arrival of military aid from Ireland. It is now time to notice the

intrigue on which he founded his hopes, and the causes which led to his

disappointment. All his efforts to conclude a peace with the insurgents

had failed through the obstinacy of the ancient Irish, who required as an

indispensable

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 719-723. Rushworth, vi. 80-95. Journals, 671,

672.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Oct. 29.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Nov. 3.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. Nov. 5.]

condition the legal establishment of their religion.[1] The Catholics, they

alleged, were the people of Ireland; they had now regained many of the

churches, which, not a century before, had been taken from their fathers;

and they could not in honour or conscience resign them to the professors

of another religion. Charles had indulged a hope that the lord lieutenant

would devise some means of satisfying their demand without compromising

the character of his sovereign;[2] but the scruples or caution of

Ormond compelled him to look out for a minister of less timid and more

accommodating disposition, and he soon found one in the Lord Herbert, a

Catholic, and son to the marquess of Worcester. Herbert felt the most

devoted attachment to his sovereign. He had lived with him for twenty years

in habits of intimacy: in conjunction with his father, he had spent above

two hundred thousand pounds in support of the royal cause; and both had

repeatedly and publicly avowed their determination to stand or fall with

the throne. To him, therefore, the king explained his difficulties, his

views, and his wishes. Low as he was sunk, he had yet a sufficient resource

left in the two armies in Ireland. With them he might make head against his

enemies, and re-establish his authority. But unfortunately this powerful

and necessary aid was withheld from him by the obstinacy of the Irish

Catholics, whose demands were such, that, to grant them publicly would

be to forfeit the affection and support of all the Protestants in his

dominions. He knew but of one way to elude the difficulty,--the employment

of a secret and

[Footnote 1: Rinuccini's MS. Narrative.]

[Footnote 2: See the correspondence in Carte's Ormond, ii. App. xv. xviii.

xx. xxii.; iii. 372, 387, 401; Charles's Works, 155.]

confidential minister, whose credit with the Catholics would give weight

to his assurances, and whose loyalty would not refuse to incur danger or

disgrace for the benefit of his sovereign. Herbert cheerfully tendered his

services. It was agreed that he should negotiate with the confederates for

the immediate aid of an army of ten thousand men; that, as the reward

of their willingness to serve the king, he should make to them certain

concessions on the point of religion; that these should be kept secret, as

long as the disclosure might be likely to prejudice the royal interests;

and that Charles, in the case of discovery, should be at liberty to disavow

the proceedings of Herbert, till he might find himself in a situation to

despise the complaints and the malice of his enemies.[1]

For this purpose Herbert (now[a] created earl of Glamorgan) was furnished,

1. with a commission to levy men, to coin money, and to employ the revenues

of the crown for their support; 2. with a warrant[b] to grant on certain

conditions to the Catholics of Ireland such concessions as it was not

prudent for the king or the lieutenant openly to make; 3. with a promise

on the part of Charles to ratify whatever engagements his envoy might

conclude, even if they were contrary to law; 4. and with different letters

for the pope, the nuncio, and the several princes from whom subsidies might

be expected. But care was taken that none of these documents should come to

the knowledge of the council. The commission was not sealed in the usual

manner; the names of the persons to whom the letters were to be addressed

were not inserted; and all the papers were in several respects informal;

for this purpose, that the king might have a plausible pretext to

[Footnote 1: Clarendon Papers, ii. 201.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Jan. 2.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. March 12.]

deny their authenticity in the event of a premature disclosure.[1]

Glamorgan proceeded on his chivalrous mission, and after many adventures

and escapes, landed in safety in Ireland. That he communicated the

substance of his instructions to Ormond, cannot be doubted; and, if there

were aught in his subsequent proceedings of which the lord lieutenant

remained ignorant, that ignorance was affected and voluntary on the part

of Ormond.[2] At Dublin both joined in the negotiation with the Catholic

deputies: from Dublin Glamorgan proceeded to Kilkenny, where the supreme

council, satisfied with his authority, and encouraged by the advice of

Ormond, concluded with him a treaty,[a] by which it was stipulated that the

Catholics should enjoy the public exercise of their religion, and retain

all churches, and the revenues of churches, which were not actually in

possession of the Protestant clergy; and that in return they should,

against a certain day, supply the king with a body of ten thousand armed

men, and should devote two-thirds of the ecclesiastical revenues to his

service during the war.[3]

[Footnote 1: See the authorities in Note (A).]

[Footnote 2: See the same.]

[Footnote 3: Dr. Leyburn, who was sent by the queen to Ireland in 1647,

tells us, on the authority of the nuncio and the bishop of Clogher, "that

my lord of Worcester (Glamorgan) was ready to justify that he had exactly

followed his instructions, and particularly that concerning the lord

lieutenant, whom he had made acquainted with all that he had transacted

with the Irish, of which he could produce proof."--Birch, Inquiry, 322.

Nor will any one doubt it, who attends, to the letter of Ormond to Lord

Muskerry on the 11th of August, just after the arrival of Glamorgan at

Kilkenny, in which, speaking of Glamorgan, he assured him, and through him

the council of the confederates, that he knew "no subject in England upon

whose favour and authority with his majesty they can better rely than upon

his lordship's, nor ... with whom he (Ormond) would sooner agree for the

benefit of this kingdom."--Birch, 62. And another to Glamorgan himself on

Feb. 11th, in which he says, "Your lordship may securely go on in the

way you have proposed to yourself, to serve the king, without fear of

interruption from me, or so much as inquiring into the means you work

by."--Ibid. 163. See also another letter, of April 6th, in Leland, iii.

283.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. August 25.]

To the surprise of all who were not in the secret, the public treaty now

proceeded with unexpected facility. The only point in debate between the

lord lieutenant and the deputies, respected their demand to be relieved

by act of parliament from all penalties for the performance of the divine

service and the administration of the sacraments, after any other form than

that of the established church. Ormond was aware of their ulterior object:

he became alarmed, and insisted on a proviso, that such article should

not be construed to extend to any service performed, or sacraments

administered, in cathedral or parochial churches. After repeated

discussions, two expedients were suggested; one, that in place of the

disputed article should be substituted another, providing that any

concession with respect to religion which the king might afterwards grant

should be considered as making part of the present treaty; the other, that

no mention should be made of religion at all, but that the lieutenant

should sign a private engagement, not to molest the Catholics in the

possession of those churches which they now held, but leave the question to

the decision of a free parliament. To this both parties assented;[a] and

the deputies returned to Kilkenny to submit the result of the conferences

to the judgment of the general assembly.[1]

But before this, the secret treaty with Glamorgan, which had been concealed

from all but the leading members of the council, had by accident come to

the

[Footnote 1: Compare Carte, i. 548, with Vindiciae Cath. Hib. 11, 13.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Nov. 11.]

The History of England from the First Invasion by the Romans to the Accession of King George the Fifth. Volume 08 of 11. · 第 3 / 16 章