Long before this the commissioners from both parties had met at Breda;

and, on the very day of the opening of the conferences, Charles

had despatched[a] an order to Montrose to proceed according to his

instructions, and to bear in mind that the success of the negotiation

at Breda depended on the success of his arms in Scotland. A month

afterwards[b] he commended in strong terms the loyalty of Lord Napier,

and urged him to repair without delay to the aid of his lieutenant. It is

impossible after this to doubt of his approbation of the attempt; but, when

the news arrived of the action at Corbiesdale, his eyes were opened to the

danger which threatened him; the estates, in the insolence of victory,

might pass an act to exclude him at once from the succession to the

Scottish throne. Acting, therefore, after the unworthy precedent set by

his father respecting the powers given to Glamorgan, he wrote[c] to

the parliament, protesting that the invasion made by Montrose had been

expressly forbidden by him, and begging that they "would do him the justice

to believe that he had not been accessory to it in the least degree;" in

confirmation of which the secretary at the same time assured Argyle that

the king felt no regret for the defeat of a man who had presumed to draw

the sword "without and contrary to the royal command." These letters

arrived[d] too late

[Footnote 1: Carte, iv. 626.]

[Footnote 2: Napier's Montrose, ii. 528. Yet on May 5th the king signed an

article, stipulating that Montrose should lay down his arms, receiving a

full indemnity for all that was past.--Carte, iv. 630. This article reached

Edinburgh before the execution of Montrose, and was kept secret. I see not,

however, what benefit he could claim from it. He had not laid down arms in

obedience to it; for he had been defeated a week before it was signed.]

[Footnote 3: Balfour, iv. 24, 25. Yet on May 15th Charles wrote to Montrose

to act according to the article in the last note.--Ibid.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. March 15.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. April 15.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. May 12.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. May 25.]

to be of injury to the unfortunate victim, whose limbs were already

bleaching on the gates of the principal towns in Scotland; but the

falsehood so confidently put forth must cover with infamy the prince who

could thus, to screen himself from the anger of his enemies, calumniate the

most devoted of his followers, one who had so often perilled, and at length

forfeited, his life in defence of the throne.

Charles had now no resource but to submit with the best grace to the

demands of the Scots. He signed the treaty,[a] binding himself to take

the Scottish covenant and the solemn league and covenant; to disavow

and declare null the peace with the Irish, and never to permit the free

exercise of the Catholic religion in Ireland, or any other part of his

dominions; to acknowledge the authority of all parliaments held since the

commencement of the late war; and to govern, in civil matters, by advice of

the parliament, in religious, by that of the kirk.[1] These preliminaries

being settled,[b] he embarked on board a small squadron furnished by the

prince of Orange, and, after a perilous navigation of three weeks, during

which he had to contend with the stormy weather, and to elude the pursuit

of the parliamentary cruisers, he arrived in safety in the Frith of

Cromartie.[c] The king was received with the honours due to his dignity; a

court with proper officers was prepared for him at Falkland, and the sum

of one hundred thousand pounds Scots, or nine thousand pounds English, was

voted for the monthly expense of his household. But the parliament had

previously[d] passed an act banishing from Scotland several of the royal

favourites by name, and excluding the "engagers" from the verge of the

court, and all employment

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 147.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. May 13.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. June 2.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. June 23.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. June 4.]

in the state. After repeated applications, the duke of Buckingham, the

Lord Wilmot, and a few English servants, who took the covenant, obtained

permission to remain with the king; many of the Scottish exiles embraced

the opportunity to withdraw from notice into the western isles, or the more

distant parts of the country.[1]

It was the negotiation between the Scots and their nominal king that

arrested Cromwell in the career of victory, and called him away from the

completion of his conquest. The rulers of the commonwealth were aware of

the intimate connection which the solemn league and covenant had produced

between the English Presbyterians and the kirk of Scotland, whence they

naturally inferred that, if the pretender to the English were once

seated on the Scottish throne, their own power would he placed on a very

precarious footing. From the first they had watched with jealousy the

unfriendly proceedings of the Scottish parliament. Advice and persuasion

had been tried, and had failed. There remained the resource of war; and

war, it was hoped, would either compel the Scots to abandon the claims of

Charles, or reduce Scotland to a province of the commonwealth. Fairfax,

indeed (he was supposed to be under the influence of a Presbyterian wife

and of the Presbyterian ministers), disapproved of the design;[2] but

his disapprobation, though lamented in public, was privately hailed as a

benefit by those who were acquainted with the aspiring designs of Cromwell,

and built on his elevation the flattering hope of their own greatness. By

their means, as soon as the

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 41, 60, 61, 64, 65, 67, 73, 77, 78. Whitelock,

462. Clarendon, iii. 346, 356, 357.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 438.]

lord lieutenant had put his troops into winter quarters, an order was

obtained from parliament for him to attend his duty in the house; but he

resumed his military operations,[a] and two months were suffered to elapse

before he noticed the command of the supreme authority, and condescended to

make an unmeaning apology for his disobedience.[b] On the renewal of the

order,[c] he left the command in Ireland to Ireton, and, returning to

England, appeared in his seat.[d] He was received with acclamations; the

palace of St. James's was allotted for his residence, and a valuable grant

of lands was voted[e] as a reward for his eminent services. In a few days

followed the appointment of Fairfax to the office of commander-in-chief,[f]

and of Cromwell to that of lieutenant-general of the army designed to be

employed in Scotland. Each signified his "readiness to observe the orders

of the house;" but Fairfax at the same time revealed his secret and

conscientious objections to the council of state. A deputation of five

members, Cromwell, Lambert, Harrison, Whitelock, and St. John, waited on

him at his house;[g] the conference was opened by a solemn invocation of

the Holy Spirit, and the three officers prayed in succession with the most

edifying fervour. Then Fairfax said that, to his mind, the invasion of

Scotland appeared a violation of the solemn league and covenant which he

had sworn to observe. It was replied that the Scots themselves had broken

the league by the invasion of England under the duke of Hamilton; and that

it was always lawful to prevent the hostile designs of another power. But

he answered that the Scottish parliament had given satisfaction by the

punishment of the guilty; that the probability of hostile designs ought

indeed to lead to measures of precaution, but that certainty was

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Jan. 8.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. April 2.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. May 30.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. June 4.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. June 12.]

[Sidenote f: A.D. 1650. June 14.]

[Sidenote g: A.D. 1650. June 24.]

required to justify actual invasion. No impression was made on his mind;

and, though Cromwell and his brother officers earnestly solicited him to

comply, "there was cause enough," says one of the deputation, "to believe

that they did not overmuch desire it."[1] The next day[a] another attempt

ended with as little success; the lord general alleging the plea of infirm

health and misboding conscience, sent back the last commission, and at the

request of the house, the former also; and the chief command of all the

forces raised, or to be raised by order of parliament, was conferred on

Oliver Cromwell.[b] Thus this adventurer obtained at the same time the

praise of moderation and the object of his ambition. Immediately he

left the capital for Scotland;[c] and Fairfax retired to his estate in

Yorkshire, where he lived with the privacy of a country gentleman, till he

once more drew the sword, not in support of the commonwealth, but in favour

of the king.[2]

To a spectator who considered the preparations of the two kingdoms, there

could be little doubt of the result. Cromwell passed the Tweed[d] at the

head of sixteen thousand men, most of them veterans, all habituated to

military discipline, before the raw levies of the Scots had quitted their

respective shires. By order of the Scottish parliament, the army had been

fixed at thirty thousand men; the nominal command had been given to the

earl of Leven, the real, on account of the age and infirmities of that

officer, to his relative, David Leslie, and instructions had been

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 460, 462. Ludlow says, "he acted his part so to the

life, that I really thought him in earnest; but the consequence made it

sufficiently evident that he had no such intention" (i. 272).

Hutchinson, who was present on one of these occasions, thought him

sincere.--Hutchinson, 315.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 438, 450, 457. Journals, Jan. 8, Feb. 25, March 30,

April 15, May 2, 7, 30, June 4, 12, 14, 25, 26.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. June 25.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. June 26.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. June 29.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. July 16.]

issued that the country between Berwick and the capital should be laid

waste, that the cattle and provisions should be removed or destroyed, and

that the inhabitants should abandon their homes under the penalties of

infamy, confiscation, and death. In aid of this measure, reports were

industriously circulated of the cruelties exercised by Cromwell in Ireland;

that, wherever he came, he gave orders to put all the males between sixteen

and sixty to death, to deprive all the boys between six and sixteen of

their right hands, and to bore the breasts of the females with red-hot

irons. The English were surprised at the silence and desolation which

reigned around them; for the only human beings whom they met on their march

through this wilderness, were a few old women and children who on their

knees solicited mercy. But Cromwell conducted them by the sea coast; the

fleet daily supplied them with provisions, and their good conduct gradually

dispelled the apprehensions of the natives.[1] They found[a] the Scottish

levies posted behind a deep intrenchment, running from Edinburgh to Leith,

fortified with numerous batteries, and flanked by the cannon of the castle

at one extremity, and of the harbour at the other. Cromwell employed all

his art to provoke Leslie to avoid an engagement. It was in vain that for

more than a month the former marched and countermarched; that he threatened

general, and made partial, attacks. Leslie remained fixed within his lines;

or, if he occasionally moved,

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 465, 466, 468. Perfect Diurnal, No. 324. See the

three declarations: that of the parliament on the marching of the army; of

the army itself, addressed "to all that are saints and partakers of the

faith of God's elect in Scotland;" and, the third, from Cromwell, dated

at Berwick, in the Parliamentary History, xix. 276, 298, 310; King's

Pamphlets, 473.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. July 28.]

watched the motions of the enemy from the nearest mountains, or interposed

a river or morass between the two armies. The English began to be exhausted

with fatigue; sickness thinned their ranks; the arrival of provisions

depended on the winds and waves; and Cromwell was taught to fear, not the

valour of the enemy, but the prudence of their general.[1]

The reader will already have observed how much at this period the exercises

of religion were mixed up with the concerns of state and even the

operations of war. Both parties equally believed that the result of

the expedition depended on the will of the Almighty, and that it was,

therefore, their duty to propitiate his anger by fasting and humiliation.

In the English army the officers prayed and preached: they "sanctified the

camp," and exhorted the men to unity of mind and godliness of life. Among

the Scots this duty was discharged by the ministers; and so fervent was

their piety, so merciless their zeal, that, in addition to their prayers,

they occasionally compelled the young king to listen to six long sermons

on the same day, during which he assumed an air of gravity, and displayed

feelings of devotion, which ill-accorded with his real disposition. But

the English had no national crime to deplore; by punishing the late king,

_they_ had atoned for the evils of the civil war; the Scots, on the

contrary, had adopted his son without any real proof of his conversion, and

therefore feared that they might draw down on the country the punishment

due to his sins and those of his family. It happened[a] that Charles, by

the advice of the earl of Eglington, presumed to visit the army on the

Links of

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 87, 88, 90. Whitelock, 467, 468.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. July 29.]

Leith. He was received with shouts of enthusiasm by the soldiers, who, on

their knees, pledged the health of their young sovereign; but the committee

of the kirk complained[a] that his presence led to ebriety and profaneness,

and he received a request,[b] equivalent to a command, to quit the camp.

The next day a declaration was made, that the company of malignants,

engagers, and enemies to the covenant, could not fail of multiplying

the judgments of God upon the land; an inquiry was instituted into the

characters of numerous individuals; and eighty officers, with many of their

men, were cashiered,[c] that they might not contaminate by their presence

the army of the saints.[1] Still it was for Charles Stuart, the chief of

the malignants, that they were to fight, and therefore from him, to appease

the anger of the Almighty, an expiatory declaration was required[d] in the

name of the parliament and the kirk.

In this instrument he was called upon to lament, in the language of

penitence and self-abasement, his father's opposition to the work of God

and to the solemn league and covenant, which had caused the blood of the

Lord's people to be shed, and the idolatry of his mother, the toleration of

which in the king's house could not fail to be a high provocation against

him who is a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers upon the

children; to declare that he had subscribed the covenant with sincerity of

heart, and would have no friends nor enemies but those who were friends or

enemies to it; to acknowledge the sinfulness of the treaty with the bloody

rebels in Ireland, which he was made to pronounce null and void; to detest

popery and prelacy, idolatry and heresy, schism

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 86, 89.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. August 2.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. August 3.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. August 5.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. August 9.]

and profaneness; and to promise that he would accord to a free parliament

in England the propositions of the two kingdoms, and reform the church

of England according to the plan devised by the assembly of divines at

Westminster.[1]

When first this declaration, so humbling to his pride, so offensive to his

feelings, was presented[a] to Charles for his signature, he returned[b] an

indignant refusal; a little reflection induced him to solicit the advice

of the council, and the opinion of the principal ministers. But the godly

refused to wait; the two committees of the kirk and kingdom protested[c]

that they disowned the quarrel and interest of every malignant party,

disclaimed the guilt of the king and his house, and would never prosecute

his interest without his acknowledgment of the sins of his family and of

his former ways, and his promise of giving satisfaction to God's people

in both kingdoms. This protestation was printed and furtively sent to the

English camp; the officers of the army presented[d] to the committee of

estates a remonstrance and supplication expressive of their adhesion; and

the ministers maintained from their pulpits that the king was the root

of malignancy, and a hypocrite, who had taken the covenant without an

intention of keeping it. Charles, yielding to his own fears and the advice

of his friends; at the end of three days subscribed,[e] with tears, the

obnoxious instrument. If it were folly in the Scots to propose to the young

prince a declaration so repugnant to his feelings and opinions, it was

greater folly still to believe that professions of repentance extorted

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 92. Whitelock, 469. "A declaration by the king's

majesty to his subjects of the kingdoms of Scotland, England, and Ireland."

Printed 1650.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. August 10.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. August 13.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. August 14.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. August 15.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. August 16.]

with so much violence could be sincere or satisfactory; yet his

subscription was received with expressions of joy and gratitude; both the

army and the city observed a solemn fast for the sins of the two kings, the

father and the son; and the ministers, now that the anger of Heaven had

been appeased, assured their hearers of an easy victory over a "blaspheming

general and a sectarian army."[1]

If their predictions were not verified, the fault was undoubtedly their

own. The caution and vigilance of Leslie had triumphed over the skill and

activity of "the blasphemer." Cromwell saw no alternative but victory or

retreat: of the first he had no doubt, if he could come in contact with the

enemy; the second was a perilous attempt, when the passes before him

were pre-occupied, and a more numerous force was hanging on his rear. At

Musselburg, having sent the sick on board the fleet (they suffered both

from the "disease of the country," and from fevers caused by exposure on

the Pentland hills), he ordered[a] the army to march the next morning to

Haddington, and thence to Dunbar; and the same night a meteor, which the

imagination of the beholders likened to a sword of fire, was seen to pass

over Edinburgh in a south-easterly direction, an evident presages in the

opinion of the Scots, that the flames of war would be transferred

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 91, 92, 95. The English parliament in their

answer exclaim: "What a blessed and hopeful change is wrought in a moment

in this young king! How hearty is he become to the cause of God and the

work of reformation. How readily doth he swallow down these bitter pills,

which are prepared for and urged upon him, as necessary to effect that

desperate care under which his affairs lie! But who sees not the crass

hypocrisy of this whole transaction, and the sandy and rotten foundation

of all the resolutions flowing hereupon?"--See Parliamentary History, xix.

359-386.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. August 30.]

to the remotest extremity of England.[1] At Dunbar, Cromwell posted his men

in the vicinity of Broxmouth House; Leslie with the Scots moving along the

heights of Lammermuir, occupied[a] a position on the Doon Hill, about two

miles to the south of the invaders; and the advanced posts of the armies

were separated only by a ravine of the depth and breadth of about thirty

feet. Cromwell was not ignorant of the danger of his situation; he had even

thought of putting the infantry on board the fleet, and of attempting to

escape with the cavalry by the only outlet, the high road to Berwick; but

the next moment he condemned the thought as "a weakness of the flesh, a

distrust in the power of the Almighty;" and ordered the army "to seek

the Lord, who would assuredly find a way of deliverance for his faithful

servants." On the other side the committees of the kirk and estates exulted

in the prospect of executing the vengeance of God upon "the sectaries;" and

afraid that the enemy should escape, compelled their general to depart from

his usual caution, and to make preparation for battle. Cromwell, with his

officers, had spent part of the day in calling upon the Lord; while he

prayed, the enthusiast felt an enlargement of the heart, a buoyancy of

spirit, which he took for an infallible presage of victory; and, beholding

through his glass the motion in the Scottish camp, he exclaimed, "They are

coming down; the Lord hath delivered them into our hands."[2] During the

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 94.]

[Footnote 2: Sagredo, the Venetian ambassador, in his relation to the

senate, says that Cromwell pretended to have been assured of the victory

by a supernatural voice. Prima che venisse alla battaglia, diede cuore ai

soldati con assicurargli la vittoria predettagli da Dio, con una voce, che

lo aveva a mezza notte riscosso dal sonno. MS. copy in my possession.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. August 31.]

night, he advanced the army to the edge of the ravine; and at an early hour

in the morning[a] the Scots attempted to seize the pass on the road from

Dunbar to Berwick. After a sharp contest, the Scottish lancers, aided

by their artillery, charged down the hill, drove the brigade of English

cavalry from its position, and broke through the infantry, which had

advanced to the support of the horse. At that moment the sun made its

appearance above the horizon; and Cromwell, turning to his own regiment

of foot, exclaimed, "Let the Lord arise, and scatter his enemies." They

instantly moved forward with their pikes levelled; the horse rallied; and

the enemy's lancers hesitated, broke, and fled. At that moment the mist

dispersed, and the first spectacle which struck the eyes of the Scots, was

the route of their cavalry. A sudden panic instantly spread from the right

to the left of their line; at the approach of the English they threw down

their arms and ran. Cromwell's regiment halted to sing the 117th Psalm; but

the pursuit was continued for more than eight miles; the dead bodies of

three thousand Scots strewed their native soil; and ten thousand prisoners,

with the artillery, ammunition, and baggage, became the reward of the

conquerors.[1]

Cromwell now thought no more of his retreat. He marched back to the

capital; the hope of resistance was abandoned; Edinburgh and Leith opened

their gates, and the whole country to the Forth submitted

[Footnote 1: Carte's Letters, i. 381. Whitelock, 470, 471. Ludlow, i. 283.

Balfour, iv. 97. Several proceedings, No. 50. Parl. Hist. xix. 343-352,

478. Cromwelliana, 89. Of the prisoners, five thousand one hundred,

something more than one-half, being wounded, were dismissed to their homes,

the other half were driven "like turkies" into England. Of these, one

thousand six hundred died of a pestilential disease, and five hundred were

actually sick on Oct 31.--Whitelock, 471. Old Parl. Hist. xix. 417.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Sept. 3.]

to the will of the English general. Still the presumption of the six

ministers who formed the committee of the kirk was not humbled. Though

their predictions had been falsified, they were still the depositaries of

the secrets of the Deity; and, in a "Short Declaration and Warning," they

announced[a] to their countrymen the thirteen causes of this national

calamity, the reasons why "God had veiled for a time his face from the sons

of Jacob." It was by the general profaneness of the land, by the manifest

provocations of the king and the king's house, by the crooked and

precipitant ways of statesmen in the treaty of Breda, by the toleration of

malignants in the king's household, by suffering his guard to join in the

battle without a previous purgation, by the diffidence of some officers

who refused to profit by advantages furnished to them by God, by the

presumption of others who promised victory to themselves without eyeing of

God, by the rapacity and oppression exercised by the soldiery, and by the

carnal self-seeking of men in power, that God had been provoked to visit

his people with so direful and yet so merited a chastisement.[1]

To the young king the defeat at Dunbar was a subject of real and

ill-dissembled joy. Hitherto he had been a mere puppet in the hands of

Argyle and his party; now their power was broken, and it was not impossible

for him to gain the ascendancy. He entered into a negotiation with Murray,

Huntley, Athol, and the numerous royalists in the Highlands; but the

secret, without the particulars, was betrayed to Argyle,[b] probably by

Buckingham, who disapproved of the project; and all the cavaliers but three

received an order to leave the court in twenty-four hours--the

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 98-107.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Sept. 12.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Sept. 27.]

kingdom in twenty days. The vigilance of the guards prevented the execution

of the plan which had been laid; but one afternoon, under pretence of

hawking, Charles escaped[a] from Perth, and riding forty-two miles, passed

the night in a miserable hovel, called Clova, la the braes of Angus. At

break of day he was overtaken by Colonel Montgomery, who advised him[b] to

return, while the Viscount Dudhope urged him to proceed to the mountains,

where he would be joined by seven thousand armed men. Charles wavered; but

Montgomery directed his attention to two regiments of horse that waited at

a distance to intercept his progress, and the royal fugitive consented[c]

to return to his former residence in Perth.[1]

The Start (so this adventure was called) proved, however, a warning to the

committee of estates. They prudently admitted the apology of the king, who

attributed[d] his flight to information that he was that day to have been

delivered to Cromwell; they allowed[e] him, for the first time, to preside

at their deliberations; and they employed his authority to pacify the

royalists in the Highlands, who had taken arms[f] in his name under

Huntley, Athol, Seaforth, and Middleton. These, after a long negotiation,

accepted an act of indemnity, and disbanded their forces.[2]

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 109, 113, 114. Baillie, ii. 356. Whitelock, 476.

Miscellanea Aulica, 152. It seems probable from some letters published in

the correspondence of Mr. Secretary Nicholas, that Charles had planned his

escape from the "villany and hypocrisy" of the party, as early as the day

of the battle of Dunbar.--Evelyn's Mem. v. 181-186, octavo.]

[Footnote 2: Balfour, iv. 118, 123, 129-135, 160. Baillie, ii. 356.

A minister, James Guthrie, in defiance of the committee of estates,

excommunicated Middleton; and such was the power of the kirk, that even

when the king's party was superior, Middleton was compelled to do penance

in sackcloth in the church of Dundee, before he could obtain absolution

preparatory to his taking a command in the army.--Baillie, 357. Balfour,

240.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Oct. 4.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Oct. 5.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. Oct. 6.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. Oct. 10.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. Oct. 12.]

[Sidenote f: A.D. 1650. Nov. 4.]

In the mean while Cromwell in his quarters at Edinburgh laboured to unite

the character of the saint with that of the conqueror; and, surrounded as

he was with the splendour of victory, to surprise the world by a display

of modesty and self-abasement. To his friends and flatterers, who fed

his vanity by warning him to be on his guard against its suggestions,

he replied, that he "had been a dry bone, and was still an unprofitable

servant," a mere instrument in the hands of Almighty power; if God had

risen in his wrath, if he had bared his arm and avenged his cause, to

him, and to him alone, belonged the glory.[1] Assuming the office of a

missionary, he exhorted his officers in daily sermons to love one another,

to repent from dead works, and to pray and mourn for the blindness of their

Scottish adversaries; and, pretending to avail himself of his present

leisure, he provoked a theological controversy with the ministers in

the castle of Edinburgh, reproaching them with pride in arrogating to

themselves the right of expounding the true sense of the solemn league and

covenant; vindicating the claim of laymen to preach the gospel and

exhibit their spiritual gifts for the edification of their brethren; and

maintaining that, after the solemn fasts observed by both nations, after

their many and earnest appeals to the God of armies, the victory gained

at Dunbar must be admitted an evident manifestation of the divine will in

favour of the English commonwealth. Finding that he made no proselytes

of his opponents, he published his arguments for the instruction of the

Scottish people; but his zeal did not

[Footnote 1: See a number of letters in Milton's State Papers, 18-35.]

escape suspicion; and the more discerning believed that, under the cover of

a religious controversy, he was in reality tampering with the fidelity of

the governor.[1]

In a short time his attention was withdrawn to a more important

controversy, which ultimately spread the flames of religious discord

throughout the nation. There had all along existed a number of Scots who

approved of the execution of the late king, and condemned even the nominal

authority given to his son. Of these men, formidable by their talents,

still more formidable by their fanaticism, the leaders were Wariston, the

clerk register in the parliament, and Gillespie and Guthrie, two ministers

in the kirk. In parliament the party, though too weak to control, was

sufficiently strong to embarrass, and occasionally to influence, the

proceedings; in the kirk it formed indeed the minority, but a minority too

bold and too numerous to be rashly irritated or incautiously despised.[2]

After the defeat at Dunbar, permission was cheerfully granted by the

committee of estates for a levy of troops in the associated counties of

Renfrew, Air, Galloway, Wigton, and Dumfries, that part of Scotland where

fanaticism had long fermented, and the most rigid notions prevailed. The

crusade was preached by Gillespie; his efforts were successfully seconded

by the other ministers, and in a short time four regiments of horse,

amounting almost to five thousand men, were raised under Strachan, Kerr,

and two other colonels. The real design now began to unfold itself. First,

the officers refused to serve under Leslie; and the parliament consented to

exempt them from his authority. Next, they hinted doubts of the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 158-163.]

[Footnote 2: Baillie, ii. 353.]

lawfulness of the war in which they were engaged; and Cromwell, in whose

army Strachan had fought at Preston, immediately[a] opened a correspondence

with him.[1] Then came the accident of "the start," which embittered and

emboldened the zeal of the fanatics; and in a long remonstrance, subscribed

by ministers and elders, by officers and soldiers, and presented[b] in

their name to Charles and the committee of estates, they pronounced[c] the

treaty with the king unlawful and sinful, disowned his interest in the

quarrel with the enemy, and charged the leading men in the nation with the

guilt of the war, which they had provoked by their intention of invading

England. The intemperate tone and disloyal tendency of this paper, whilst

it provoked irritation and alarm at Perth, induced Cromwell to advance with

his army from Edinburgh to Glasgow, and Hamilton. But the western forces

(so they were called) withdrew to Dumfries, where a meeting was held with

Wariston, and a new draught of the remonstrance, in language still more

energetic and vituperative, was adopted. On the return[d] of Cromwell to

the capital, his negotiation with the officers was resumed, while Argyle

and his friends laboured on the opposite side to mollify the obstinacy of

the fanatics. But reasoning was found useless; the parliament condemned[e]

the remonstrance as a scandalous and seditious libel; and, since Strachan

had resigned[f] his commission, ordered Montgomery with three new regiments

to take the command of the whole force. Kerr, however, before his arrival,

had led[g] the western levy to attack Lambert in his

[Footnote 1: Baillie, ii. 350-352. Strachan was willing to give assurance

not to molest England in the king's quarrel. Cromwell insisted that Charles

should be banished by act of parliament, or imprisoned for life.--Ib. 352.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Oct. 4.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Oct. 17.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. Oct. 22.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. Oct. 30.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. Nov. 25.]

[Sidenote f: A.D. 1650. Nov. 28.]

[Sidenote g: A.D. 1650. Dec. 1.]

quarters at Hamilton; he was taken prisoner, designedly if we may believe

report, and his whole army was dispersed. Soon afterwards Strachan, with

sixty troopers, passed over to Lambert, and the associated counties, left

without defence, submitted to the enemy. Still the framers and advocates of

the remonstrance, though they knew that it had been condemned by the state

and the kirk, though they had no longer an army to draw the sword in

its support, adhered pertinaciously to its principles; the unity of the

Scottish church was rent in twain, and the separation was afterwards

widened by a resolution of the assembly,[a] that in such a crisis all

Scotsmen might be employed in the service of the country.[1] Even their

common misfortunes failed to reconcile these exasperated spirits; and after

the subjugation of their country, and under the yoke of civil servitude,

the two parties still continued to persecute each other with all the

obstinacy and bitterness of religious warfare. The royalists obtained

the name of public resolutioners; their opponents, of protestors or

remonstrants.[2]

Though it cost the young prince many an internal struggle, yet experience

had taught him that he must soothe the religious prejudices of the kirk, if

he hoped ever to acquire the preponderance in the state. On the first day

of the new year,[b] he rode in procession to the church of Scone, where his

ancestors had been accustomed to receive the Scottish crown: there on his

knees, with his arm upraised, he swore by the Eternal

[Footnote 1: With the exception of persons "excommunicated, notoriously

profane, or flagitious, and professed enemies and opposers of the covenant

and cause of God."--Wodrow, Introd. iii.]

[Footnote 2: Baillie, ii. 348, 354-364. Balfour, iv. 136, 141-160, 173-178,

187, 189. Whitelock, 475, 476, 477, 484. Sydney Papers, ii. 679. Burnet's

Hamiltons, 425.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Dec. 14.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Jan. 1.]

and Almighty God to observe the two covenants; to establish the

presbyterial government in Scotland and in his family; to give his assent

to acts for establishing it in his other dominions; to rule according to

the law of God and the lovable laws of the land; to abolish and withstand

all false religions; and to root out all heretics and enemies of the true

worship of God, convicted by the true church of God. Argyle then placed the

crown upon his head, and seated him on the throne, and both nobility and

people swore allegiance to him "according to the national covenant, and the

solemn league and covenant." At the commencement, during the ceremony, and

after the conclusion, Douglas, the minister, addressed the king, reminding

him that he was king by compact with his people; that his authority was

limited by the law of God, the laws of the people, and the association of

the estates with him in the government; that, though every breach did

not dissolve the compact, yet every abuse of power to the subversion of

religion, law, or liberty, justified opposition in the people; that it was

for him, by his observance of the covenant, to silence those who doubted

his sincerity; that the evils which had afflicted his family arose out of

the apostasy of his father and grandfather; and that, if he imitated them,

he would find that the controversy between him and God was not ended, but

would be productive of additional calamities. The reader may imagine what

were the feelings of Charles while he listened to the admonitions of the

preacher, and when he swore to perform conditions which his soul abhorred,

and which he knew that on the first opportunity he should break or

elude.[1] But he passed with credit through the

[Footnote 1: See "The forme and order of the Coronation of Charles II., as

it was acted and done at Scoune, the first day of January, 1651." Aberdene,

1651.]

ceremony; the coronation exalted him in the eyes of the people; and each

day brought to him fresh accessions of influence and authority. The

kirk delivered Strachan as a traitor and apostate to the devil; and the

parliament forefaulted his associates, of whom several hastened to make

their peace by a solemn recantation. Deprived of their support, the

Campbells gradually yielded to the superior influence of the Hamiltons.

Vexation, indeed, urged them to reproach the king with inconstancy and

ingratitude; but Charles, while he employed every art to lull the jealousy

of Argyle, steadily pursued his purpose; his friends, by submitting to the

humbling ceremony of public penance, satisfied the severity of the kirk;

and by the repeal[a] of the act of classes, they were released from all

previous forfeitures and disqualifications. In April the king, with Leslie

and Middleton as his lieutenants, took the command of the army, which had

been raised by new levies to twenty thousand men, and, having fortified

the passages of the Forth, awaited on the left bank the motions of the

enemy.[1]

In the mean while Cromwell had obtained[b] possession of the castle of

Edinburgh through the perfidy or the timidity of the governor. Tantallon

had been taken by storm, and Dumbarton had been attempted, but its defences

were too strong to be carried by force,

[Footnote 1: Carte, Letters, ii. 26, 27. Balfour, iv. 240, 268, 281,

301. It appears from this writer that a great number of the colonels of

regiments were royalists or engagers (p. 210, 213). The six brigades

of horse seem to have been divided equally between old Covenanters and

royalists. The seventh was not given to any general, but would be commanded

by Hamilton, as the eldest colonel.--Ib. 299-301. It is therefore plain

that with the king for commander-in-chief the royalists had the complete

ascendancy.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. May 21.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Dec. 19.]

and its garrison too honest to be corrupted with money.[1] In February the

lord general was afflicted[a] with an ague, so ruinous to his health, and

so obstinate in its duration, that in May he obtained permission to return

to England, with the power of disposing, according to his judgment, of the

chief command.[2] A rapid and unexpected improvement[b] induced him to

remain; and in July he marched with his army towards Stirling. The Scots

faced him in their intrenched camp at Torwood; he turned aside to Glasgow;

they took[c] a position at Kilsyth; he marched[d] back to Falkirk; and they

resumed their position at Torwood. While by these movements the English

general occupied the attention of his opponents, a fleet of boats had been

silently prepared and brought to the Queensferry; a body of men crossed the

frith, and fortified a hill near Inverkeithing; and Lambert immediately

followed[e] with a more numerous division. The Scots despatched Holburn

with orders to drive the enemy into the sea; he was himself charged[f]

by Lambert with a superior force, and the flight of his men gave to the

English possession of the fertile and populous county of Fife. Cromwell

hastened to transport his army to the left bank of the river, and advance

on the rear of the Scots. They retired: Perth, the seat of government, was

besieged; and in a few days[g] the colours of the commonwealth floated on

its walls.[3]

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 229, 249, 296. Baillie, ii. 368.]

[Footnote 2: The council had sent two physicians to attend him. His answer

to Bradshaw of March 24th runs in his usual style. "Indeed, my lord, your

service needs not me. I am a poor creature, and have been a dry bone, and

am still an unprofitable servant to my master and to you."--New Parl. Hist.

iii. 1363.]

[Footnote 3: Balfour, 313. Journals, May 27. Leicester's Journal, 109.

Whitelock, 490, 494, 497, 498, 499. Heath, 392, 393. According to Balfour,

the loss on each side was "almost alyke," about eight hundred men killed;

according to Lambert, the Scots lost two thousand killed, and fourteen

hundred taken prisoners; the English had only eight men slain; "so easy did

the Lord grant them that mercy."--Whitelock, 501. I observe that in all

the despatches of the commanders for the commonwealth their loss is

miraculously trifling.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Feb. 21.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. May 27.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. July 3.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. July 13.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1651. July 17.]

[Sidenote f: A.D. 1651. July 21.]

[Sidenote g: A.D. 1651. August.]

In the Scottish leaders the progress of the English excited the most

fearful anticipations; to Charles it suggested the execution of what had

long been his favourite object. The country to the south was clear of the

enemy; and a proclamation[a] to the army announced his resolve of marching

into England, accompanied by such of his Scottish subjects as were willing

to share the fortunes and the perils of their sovereign. The boldness of

the attempt dazzled the judgment of some; and the confidence of the young

king dispelled the apprehensions of others. Their knowledge that, in case

of failure, he must expect to meet with the same fate as his father,

justified a persuasion that he possessed secret assurances of a powerful

co-operation from the royalists and the Presbyterians of England. Argyle

(nor was it surprising after the decline of his influence at court)

solicited and obtained permission to retire to his own home; a few other

chieftains followed his example; the rest expressed their readiness to

stake their lives on the issue of the attempt, and the next morning eleven,

some say fourteen, thousand men began[b] their march from Stirling, in the

direction of Carlisle.[1]

Cromwell was surprised and embarrassed. The Scots had gained three days'

march in advance, and his army was unprepared to follow them at a moment's

notice. He wrote[c] to the parliament to rely on his industry and despatch;

he sent[d] Lambert from Fifeshire with three thousand cavalry to hang on

the rear, and ordered[e]

[Footnote 1: Leicester's Journal, 110. Whitelock, 501. Clarendon, iii.

397.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. July 30.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. July 31.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. August 4.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. August 5.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1651. August 7.]

Harrison with an equal number from Newcastle, to press on the flank of

the enemy; and on the seventh day led his army of ten thousand men by the

eastern coast, in the direction of York. The reduction of Scotland, a more

easy task after the departure of the royal forces, was left to the activity

of Monk, who had five thousand infantry and cavalry under his command.

So rapid was the advance of Charles, that he traversed the Lowlands of

Scotland, and the northern counties in England, without meeting a single

foe. Lambert had joined Harrison near Warrington; their united forces

amounted to nine thousand men; and their object was to prevent the passage

of the Mersey. But they arrived[a] too late to break down the bridge; and,

after a few charges, formed in battle array on Knutsford Heath. The king,

leaving them on the left, pushed forward till he reached[b] Worcester,

where he was solemnly proclaimed by the mayor, amidst the loud acclamations

of the gentlemen of the county, who, under a suspicion of their loyalty,

had been confined in that city by order of the council.[2]

At the first news of the royal march, the leaders at Westminster abandoned

themselves to despair. They believed that Cromwell had come to a private

understanding with the king; that the Scots would meet with no opposition

in their progress; and that the Cavaliers would rise simultaneously in

every part of the kingdom.[3] From these terrors they were relieved by

the arrival of despatches from the general, and by the indecision of the

royalists, who, unprepared for the event, had hitherto made no movement;

and with the

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

[Footnote 1: Leicester's Journal, iii. 117.

Balfour, iv. 314.]

[Footnote 2: Leicester's Journal, 113, 114. Whitelock, 502, 503. Clarendon,

iii. 402.]

[Footnote 3: Hutchinson, 336.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. August 16.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. August 22.]

revival of their hopes the council assumed a tone of defiance, which was

supported by measures the most active and energetic. The declaration of

Charles,[a] containing a general pardon to all his subjects, with the

exception of Cromwell, Bradshaw, and Cook, was burnt in London by the hands

of the hangman; and a counter proclamation was published,[b] pronouncing

Charles Stuart, his aiders and abettors, guilty of high treason. All

correspondence with him was forbidden under the penalty of death; it was

ordered that all persons known or suspected of attachment to his cause

should be placed in custody, or confined to their own houses; and the

militia of several counties, "tried and godly people," were called forth,

and marched towards the expected scene of action.[1] But Charles had to

contend not only with the activity of his enemies, but with the fanaticism

of his followers. The Presbyterians of Lancashire had promised to rise,

and Massey, a distinguished officer of that persuasion, was sent before to

organize the levy; but the committee of the kirk forbade him to employ any

man who had not taken the covenant; and, though Charles annulled their

order, the English ministers insisted that it should be obeyed. Massey

remained after the army had passed, and was joined by the earl of Derby,

with sixty horse and two hundred and sixty foot, from the Isle of Man. A

conference was held at Wigan; but reasoning and entreaty were employed in

vain; the ministers insisted that all the Catholics who had been enrolled

should be dismissed; and that the salvation of the kingdom should be

entrusted to the elect of God, who had taken the covenant. In the mean

while Cromwell had despatched Colonel Lilburne, with his

[Footnote 1: Journals, Aug. 12.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. August 11.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. August 25.]

regiment of horse, into the county, and ordered reinforcements to join him

from Yorkshire and Cheshire. Derby, with the concurrence of the royalists

in Manchester, undertook to surprise Lilburne in his quarters near that

town, but was himself surprised by Lilburne, who marched on the same day[a]

to observe the earl's motions. They met unexpectedly in the lane leading

from Chorley to Wigan. The heads of the opposite columns repeatedly charged

each other; but the desperate courage of the Cavaliers was foiled by the

steadiness and discipline of their opponents; the Lord Widrington, Sir

Thomas Tildesly, Colonel Throckmorton, Boynton, Trollop, and about sixty

of their followers were slain, and above three hundred privates made

prisoners. The earl himself, who had received several slight wounds on the

arms and shoulders, fled to Wigan with the enemy at his heels. Observing a

house open, he flung himself from his horse, and sprung into the passage.

A female barred the door behind him; the pursuers were checked for an

instant; and when they began to search the house, he had already escaped

through the garden. Weak with fatigue and the loss of blood, he wandered in

a southerly direction, concealing himself by day, and travelling by night,

till he found[b] a secure asylum, in a retired mansion, called Boscobel

House, situate between Brewood and Tong Castle, and the property of Mrs.

Cotton, a Catholic recusant and royalist. There he was received and

secreted by William Penderell and his wife, the servants entrusted with the

care of the mansion; and having recovered his strength, was conducted by

the former to the royal army at Worcester.[1]

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 503, 504. Clarendon, iii. 399, 403. Memoirs of the

Stanleys, 112-114. Journals, Aug. 29. Leicester's Journal, 116. Boscobel,

6-8. Boscobel afterwards belonged to Bas. Fitzherbert, Mrs. Cotton's

son-in-law.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. August 25.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. August 29.]

The occurrences of each day added to the disappointment of Charles and the

confidence of his enemies. He had summoned[a] by proclamation all his male

subjects between the age of sixteen and sixty to join his standard at the

general muster[b] of his forces, on the 26th of August, in the Pitchcroft,

the meadows between the city and the river. A few of the neighbouring

gentlemen with their tenants, not two hundred in number, obeyed the

call;[1] and it was found that the whole amount of his force did not

exceed twelve (or according to Cromwell, sixteen)[2] thousand men, of whom

one-sixth part only was composed of Englishmen. But while a few straggling

royalists thus stole into his quarters, as if it were to display by their

paucity the hopelessness of his cause, the daily arrival of hostile

reinforcements swelled the army in the neighbourhood to more than thirty

thousand men. At length Cromwell arrived,[c] and was received with

enthusiasm. The royalists had broken down an arch of the bridge over the

Severn at Upton; but a few soldiers passed on a beam in the night; the

breach was repaired, and Lambert crossed with ten thousand men to the right

bank. A succession of partial but obstinate actions alternately raised and

depressed the hopes of the two parties; the grand attempt was reserved by

the lord general for his

[Footnote 1: They were lord Talbot, son to the earl of Shrewsbury, "with

about sixty horse; Mr. Mervin Touchet, Sir John Packington, Sir Walter

Blount, Sir Ralph Clare, Mr. Ralph Sheldon, of Beoly, Mr. John Washbourn,

of Wichinford, with forty horse; Mr. Thomas Hornyhold, of Blackmore-park,

with forty horse; Mr. Thomas Acton, Mr. Robert Blount, of Kenswick, Mr.

Robert Wigmore, of Lucton, Mr. F. Knotsford, Mr. Peter Blount, and divers

others."--Boscobel, 10.]

[Footnote 2: Cary's Memorials, ii. 361.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. August 23.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. August 26.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. August 28.]

auspicious day, the 3rd of September, on which twelve months before he had

defeated the Scots at Dunbar. On that morning Fleetwood, who had advanced

from Upton to Powick,[a] was ordered to force the passage of the Team,

while Cromwell, to preserve the communication, should throw a bridge of

boats across the Severn at Bunshill, near the confluence of the two rivers.

About one in the afternoon, while Charles with his staff observed from the

tower of the cathedral the positions of the enemy, his attention was drawn

by a discharge of musketry near Powick. He descended immediately, rode to

the scene of action, and ordered Montgomery with a brigade of horse and

foot to defend the line of the Team and oppose the formation of the bridge.

After a long and sanguinary struggle, Fleetwood effected a passage just at

the moment when Cromwell, having completed the work, moved four regiments

to his assistance. The Scots, though urged by superior numbers, maintained

the most obstinate resistance; they disputed every field and hedge,

repeatedly charged with the pike to check the advance of the enemy, and,

animated by the shouts of the combatants on the opposite bank, sought to

protract the contest with the vain hope that, by occupying the forces of

Fleetwood, they might insure the victory to their friends, who were engaged

with Cromwell.

That commander, as soon as he had secured the communication across the

river, ordered a battery of heavy guns to play upon Fort Royal, a work

lately raised to cover the Sidbury gate of the city, and led his troops

in two divisions to Perrywood and Red-hill. To Charles this seemed a

favourable opportunity of defeating one half of the hostile force, while

the other

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 3.]

half was separated from it by the Severn. Leading out the whole of his

disposable infantry, with the duke of Hamilton's troop of horse, and the

English volunteers, he marched to attack the enemy in their position, and

fought at the head of the Highlanders with a spirit worthy of a prince who

staked his life for the acquisition of a crown. Fortune favoured his first

efforts. The militia regiments shrunk from the shock, and the guns of the

enemy became the prize of the assailants. But Cromwell had placed some

veteran battalions in reserve. They restored the battle; and the royalists,

in their turn, began to retreat. Still they remained unbroken, availing

themselves of every advantage of the ground to check the enemy, and

anxiously expecting the aid of their cavalry, which, under the command of

Leslie, had remained in the city. From what cause it happened is unknown;

but that officer did not appear on the field till the battle was lost, and

the infantry, unable to resist the superior pressure of the enemy, was

fleeing in confusion to the gate under the shelter of the fort. The

fugitives rallied in Friar-street, and Charles, riding among them,

endeavoured by his words and gestures to re-animate their courage. Instead

of a reply, they hung down their heads, or threw away their arms. "Then

shoot me dead," exclaimed the distressed prince, "rather than let me live

to see the sad consequences of this day." But his despair was as unavailing

as had been his entreaties; and his friends admonished him to provide for

his safety, for the enemy had already penetrated within the walls.

We left Fleetwood on the right bank pushing the Scots slowly before him. At

length they resigned the hope of resistance; their flight opened to him the

way to St. John's, and its timid commander yielded at the first summons. On

the other bank, Cromwell stormed the Fort Royal, put its defenders, fifteen

hundred men, to the sword, and turned the guns upon the city. Within the

walls irremediable confusion prevailed, and the enemy began to pour in by

the quay, the castle hill, and the Sidbury gate. Charles had not a moment

to spare. Placing himself in the midst of the Scottish cavalry, he took the

northern road by the gate of St. Martin's, while a few devoted spirits,

with such troopers as dared to followed them, charged down Sidbury-street

in the contrary direction.[1] They accomplished their purpose. The royal

party cleared the walls, while _they_ arrested the advance, and distracted

the attention of the enemy. It was past the hour of sunset; and before dark

all resistance ceased. Colonel Drummond surrendered the castle hill on

conditions; the infantry in the street were killed or led prisoners to the

cathedral; and the city was abandoned during the obscurity of the night to

the licentious passions of the victors.[2]

In this disastrous battle the slain on the part of the royalists amounted

to three thousand men, the taken to a still greater number. The cavalry

escaped in separate bodies; but so depressed was their courage, so

bewildered were their counsels, that they successively surrendered to

smaller parties of their pursuers. Many officers of distinction attempted,

single and disguised,

[Footnote 1: These were the earl of Cleveland, Sir James Hamilton, Colonel

Careless, and captains Hornyhold, Giffard, and Kemble.--Boscobel, 20.]

[Footnote 2: See Blount, Boscobel, 14-22; Whitelock, 507, 508; Bates, part

ii. 221; Parl. Hist. xx. 40, 44-55; Ludlow, i. 314. Nothing can be more

incorrect than Clarendon's account of this battle, iii. 409. Even Cromwell

owns that "it was as stiff a contest for four or five hours as ever he had

seen."--Cary's Memorials, ii. 356.]

to steal their way through the country; but of these the Scots were

universally betrayed by their accent, whilst the English, for the most

part, effected their escape.[1] The duke of Hamilton had been mortally

wounded on the field of battle; the earls of Derby, Rothes, Cleveland,

Kelly, and Lauderdale; the lords Sinclair, Kenmure, and Grandison; and the

generals Leslie, Massey, Middleton, and Montgomery, were made prisoners, at

different times and in separate places. But the most interesting inquiry

regarded the fortune of the young king. Though the parliament offered[a] a

reward of one thousand pounds for his person, and denounced the penalties

of treason against those who should afford him shelter; though parties of

horse and foot scoured the adjacent counties in search of so valuable a

prize; though the magistrates received orders to arrest every unknown

person, and to keep a strict watch on the sea-ports in their neighbourhood,

yet no trace of his flight, no clue to his retreat, could be discovered.

Week after week passed

[Footnote 1: Thus the duke of Buckingham was conducted by one Mathews, a

carpenter, to Bilstrop, and thence to Brooksby, the seat of Lady Villiers,

in Leicestershire; Lord Talbot reached his father's house at Longford in

time to conceal himself in a close place in one of the out-houses. His

pursuers found his horse yet saddled, and searched for him during four or

five days in vain. May was hidden twenty-one days in a hay-mow, belonging

to Bold, a husbandman, at Chessardine, during all which time a party of

soldiers was quartered in the house.--Boscobel, 35-37. Of the prisoners,

eight suffered death, by judgment of a court-martial sitting at Chester.

One of these was the gallant earl of Derby, who pleaded that quarter had

been granted to him by Captain Edge, and quarter ought to be respected by

a court-martial. It was answered that quarter could be granted to enemies

only, not to traitors. He offered to surrender his Isle of Man in exchange

for his life, and petitioned for "his grace the lord general's, and the

parliament's mercy." But his petition was not delivered by Lenthall before

it was too late. It was read in the house on the eve of his execution,

which took place at Bolton, in Lancashire, Oct. 15, 1651.--State Trials, v.

294. Heath 302. Leicester's Journal, 121. Journals, Oct. 14.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 10.]

away; of almost every other individual of note the fate was ascertained;

that of Charles Stuart remained an impenetrable mystery. At last, when a

belief prevailed, both among his friends and foes, that he had met

with death from the peasantry, ignorant of his person and quality, the

intelligence arrived, that on the 17th of October, forty-four days after

the battle, he had landed in safety at Fécamp, on the coast of Normandy.

The narrative of his adventures during this period of suspense and distress

exhibits striking instances of hair-breadth escapes on the part of the

king, and of unshaken fidelity on that of his adherents. During the night

after the battle he found himself in the midst of the Scottish cavalry, a

body of men too numerous to elude pursuit, and too dispirited to repel an

enemy. Under cover of the darkness, he separated from them with about sixty

horse; the earl of Derby recommended to him, from his own experience, the

house of Boscobel as a secure retreat; and Charles Giffard undertook, with

the aid of his servant Yates, to conduct him to Whiteladies, another house

belonging to Mrs. Cotton, and not far distant from Boscobel. At an early

hour in the morning, after a ride of five-and-twenty miles, they reached

Whiteladies;[a] and while the others enjoyed a short repose from their

fatigue, the king withdrew to an inner apartment, to prepare himself for

the character which he had been advised to assume. His hair was cut

close to the head, his hands and face were discoloured, his clothes were

exchanged for the coarse and threadbare garments of a labourer, and a heavy

wood-bill in his hand announced his pretended employment. At sunrise the

few admitted to the secret took their leave of

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept.]

him with tears, and, summoning their companions to horseback, rode away,

they scarcely knew whither but with the cheering hope that they should draw

the attention of the enemy from the retreat of the king to the pursuit of

themselves. In less than an hour a troop of horse from Cotsal, under the

command of Colonel Ashenhurst, arrived at Whiteladies; but the king was

already gone; a fruitless search only provoked their impatience, and they

hastily followed the track of the other fugitives.

Charles was now in the hands, and entirely at the mercy, of four brothers

(John, the fifth, had taken charge of the Lord Wilmot), labouring men, of

the name of Penderell, and of Yates, his former guide, who had married a

sister of the Penderells. He could not conceal from himself that their

poverty might make them more accessible to temptation; but Derby and

Giffard had conjured him to dismiss such thoughts; they were men of tried

fidelity, who, born in the domain, and bred in the principles of a loyal

and Catholic family, had long been successfully employed in screening

priests and Cavaliers from the searches of the civil magistrates and

military officers.[1] By one of them, surnamed the trusty Richard, he was

led into

[Footnote 1: The Penderells, whom this event has introduced to the notice

of the reader, were originally six brothers, born at Hobbal Grange, in the

parish of Tong. John, George, and Thomas served in the armies of Charles

I. Thomas was killed at Stowe; the other two survived the war, and were

employed as woodwards at Boscobel. Of the remaining three, William took

care of the house; Humphrey worked at the mill, and Richard rented part of

Hobbal Grange. After the Restoration, the five brothers waited on the king

at Whitehall on the 13th of June, 1660, and were graciously received, and

dismissed with a princely reward. A pension was also granted to them and

their posterity. In virtue of which grant two of their descendants, Calvin

Beaumont Winstanley, and John Lloyd, were placed on the pension list on the

6th of July, 1846, for the sum of twenty-five pounds to each.]

the thickest part of the adjoining wood, while the others posted themselves

at convenient stations, to descry and announce the approach of the enemy.

The day was wet and stormy; and Richard, attentive to the accommodation of

his charge, who appeared sinking under the fatigue, caused by his efforts

in the battle and the anxiety of his flight, spread a blanket for him under

one of the largest trees, and ordered the wife of Yates to bring him the

best refreshment which her house could afford. Charles was alarmed at the

sight of this unexpected visitant. Recovering himself, he said, "Good

woman, can you be faithful to a distressed Cavalier?"--"Yes, sir," she

replied, "and I will die sooner than betray you." He was afterwards visited

by Jane, the mother of the Penderells. The old woman kissed his hands, fell

on her knees, and blessed God that he had chosen _her_ sons to preserve, as

she was confident they would, the life of their sovereign.

It had been agreed between the king and Wilmot, that each should make

the best of his way to London, and inquire for the other by the name of

Ashburnham, at the Three Cranes in the Vintry. By conversation with his

guardian, Charles was induced to adopt a different plan, and to seek an

asylum among the Cavaliers in Wales, till a ship could be procured for his

transportation to France. About nine in the evening they left the wood

together for the house of Mr. Wolf, a Catholic recusant at Madeley, not far

from the Severn; but an accidental alarm lengthened their road, and added

to the fatigue of the royal wanderer.[1]

[Footnote 1: The mill at Evelyn was filled with fugitives from the battle:

the miller, espying Charles and his guide, and afraid of a discovery,

called out "rogues;" and they, supposing him an enemy, turned up a miry

lane, running at their utmost speed,--Boscobel, 47. Account from the Pepys

MS. p. 16.]

They reached Madeley at midnight; Wolf was roused from his bed, and the

strangers obtained admission. But their host felt no small alarm for their

safety. Troops were frequently quartered upon him; two companies of militia

actually kept watch in the village and the places of concealment in his

house had been recently discovered. As the approach of daylight[a] made it

equally dangerous to proceed or turn back he secreted them behind the hay

in an adjoining barn, and despatched messengers to examine the passages

of the river. Their report that all the bridges were guarded, and all the

boats secured, compelled the unfortunate prince to abandon his design. On

the return of darkness he placed himself again under the care of his trusty

guide, and with a heavy and misboding heart, retraced his steps towards his

original destination, the house at Boscobel.

At Boscobel he found Colonel Careless, one of those devoted adherents who,

to aid his escape from Worcester, had charged the enemy at the opposite

gate. Careless had often provoked, and as often eluded, the resentment of

the Roundheads; and experience had made him acquainted with every loyal

man, and every place of concealment, in the country. By his persuasion

Charles consented to pass the day[b] with him amidst the branches of an old

and lofty oak.[1] This

[Footnote 1: This day Humphrey Penderell, the miller, went to Skefnal to

pay taxes, but in reality to learn news. He was taken before a military

officer, who knew that Charles had been at Whiteladies, and tempted, with

threats and promises, to discover where the king was; but nothing could be

extracted from him, and he was allowed to return.--Boscobel, 55. This, I

suspect, to be the true story; but Charles himself, when he mentions the

proposal made to Humphrey attributes it to a man, at whose house he had

changed his clothes.--Account from the Pepys MS. p. 9.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 5.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Sept. 6.]

celebrated tree, which was afterwards destroyed to satisfy the veneration

of the Cavaliers, grew near to the common path in a meadow-field, which lay

in the centre of the wood. It had been partially lopped a few years before,

and the new shoots had thrown round it a thick and luxuriant foliage.

Within this cover the king and his companion passed the day. Invisible

themselves, they occasionally caught a glimpse of the red-coats (so the

soldiers were called) passing among the trees, and sometimes saw them

looking into the meadow. Their friends, William Penderell and his wife,

whom Charles called my dame Joan, stationed themselves near, to give

warning of danger; he pretending to be employed in his duty as woodward,

and she in the labour of gathering sticks for fuel. But there arose no

cause of immediate alarm; the darkness of the night relieved them from

their tedious and irksome confinement; and Charles, having on his return to

the house examined the hiding-place, resolved to trust to it for his future

security.[1]

The next day, Sunday,[a] he spent within doors or in the garden. But his

thoughts brooded over his forlorn and desperate condition; and the gloom

on his countenance betrayed the uneasiness of his mind. Fortunately in the

afternoon he received by John Penderell a welcome message from Lord Wilmot,

to meet him that night at the house of Mr. Whitgrave, a recusant, at

Moseley. The king's feet were so swollen and blistered by his recent walk

to and from Madeley,

[Footnote 1: Careless found means to reach London, and cross the sea to

Holland, where he carried the first news of the king's escape to the

princess of Orange. Charles gave him for his coat of arms, by the name of

Carlos, an oak in a field, or, with a fesse, gules, charged with three

royal crowns, and for his crest a crown of oak leaves, with a sword and

sceptre, crossed saltierwise.--Boscobel, 85.]

[Sidenote: A.D. 1651. Sept. 7.]

that he gladly accepted the offer of Humphrey's horse from the mill; nor

did the appearance of the monarch disgrace that of the steed. He wore a

coat and breeches of coarse green cloth, both so threadbare that in many

places they appeared white, and the latter "so long that they came down to

the garter;" his doublet was of leather, old and soiled; his shoes were

heavy and slashed for the ease of his feet; his stockings of green yarn had

been much worn, were darned at the knees, and without feet; and an old grey

steeple-crowned hat, without band or lining, with a crooked thorn stick,

completed the royal habiliments. The six brothers attended him with arms;

two kept in advance, two followed behind, and one walked on each side. He

had not gone far before he complained to Humphrey of the heavy jolting pace

of the horse. "My liege," replied the miller, "you do not recollect that he

carries the weight of three kingdoms on his back."

At Moseley, cheered by the company of Wilmot, and the attention of

Whitgrave and his chaplain, Mr. Hudlestone,[1] he recovered his spirits,

fought the battle of Worcester over again, and declared that, if he could

find a few thousand men who had the courage to stand by him, he would not

hesitate to meet his enemies a second time in the field. A new plan of

escape was now submitted to his approbation. The daughter of Colonel Lane,

of Bentley, had obtained from the governor of Stafford a pass to visit Mrs.

[Footnote 1: Mr. Whitgrave had served as lieutenant, Hudlestone as

gentleman volunteer in the armies of Charles I. The latter was of the

family at Hutton John, in Cumberland. Leaving the service, he took orders,

and was at this time a secular priest, living with Mr. Whitgrave. He

afterwards became a Benedictine monk, and was appointed one of the queen's

chaplains.]

Norton, a relation near Bristol. Charles consented to assume the character

of her servant, and Wilmot departed on the following night to make

arrangements for his reception. In the mean time, to guard against a

surprise, Hudlestone constantly attended the king; Whitgrave occasionally

left the house to observe what passed in the street; and Sir John Preston,

and two other boys, the pupils of Hudlestone, were stationed as sentinels

at the garret windows.[1] But the danger of discovery increased every hour.

The confession of a cornet, who had accompanied him, and was afterwards

made prisoner, divulged the fact that Charles had been left at Whiteladies;

and the hope of reward stimulated the parliamentary officers to new and

more active exertions. The house of Boscobel, on the day after the king's

departure,[a] was successively visited by two parties of the enemy; the

next morning a second and more rigorous search was made at Whiteladies; and

in the afternoon the arrival of a troop of horse alarmed the inhabitants of

Moseley. As Charles, Whitgrave, and Hudlestone were standing near a window,

they observed a neighbour run hastily into the house, and in an instant

heard the shout of "Soldiers, soldiers!" from the foot of the staircase.

The king was immediately shut up in the secret place; all the other doors

were thrown open; and Whitgrave descending, met the troopers in front of

his house. They seized him as a fugitive Cavalier from Worcester; but he

convinced them by the testimony of his neighbours, that for several weeks

he had not quitted Moseley, and with much difficulty prevailed on them to

depart without searching the house.

[Footnote 1: Though ignorant of the quality of the stranger, the boys

amused the king by calling themselves his life-guard.--Boscobel, 78.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 9.]

That night[a] Charles proceeded to Bentley. It took but little time to

transform the woodcutter into a domestic servant, and to exchange his

dress of green jump for a more decent suit of grey cloth. He departed on

horseback with his supposed mistress behind him, accompanied by her cousin,

Mr. Lassells; and, after a journey of three days, reached[b] Abbotsleigh,

Mr. Norton's house, without interruption or danger. Wilmot stopped at

Sir John Winter's, a place in the neighbourhood. On the road, he had

occasionally joined the royal party, as it were by accident; more generally

he preceded or followed them at a short distance. He rode with a hawk

on his fist, and dogs by his side; and the boldness of his manner as

effectually screened him from discovery as the most skilful disguise.

The king, on his arrival,[c] was indulged with a separate chamber, under

pretense of indisposition; but the next morning he found himself in the

company of two persons, of whom one had been a private in his regiment of

guards at Worcester, the other a servant in the palace at Richmond, when

Charles lived there several years before. The first did not recognise him,

though he pretended to give a description of his person; the other, the

moment the king uncovered, recollected the features of the prince, and

communicated his suspicions to Lassells. Charles, with great judgment, sent

for him, discovered himself to him as an old acquaintance, and required his

assistance. The man (he was butler to the family) felt himself honoured

by the royal confidence, and endeavoured to repay it by his services. He

removed to a distance from the king two individuals in the house of known

republican principles; he inquired, though without success, for a

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 11.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Sept. 14.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Sept. 15.]

ship at Bristol to carry him to France or Spain; and he introduced Lord

Wilmot to his chamber at the hour of midnight. There they sat in council,

and resolved[a] that the king should remove the next day to the house of

Colonel Windham, a Cavalier whom he knew, at Trent, near Sherburn; that a

messenger should be despatched to prepare the family for his arrival; and

that to account for the sudden departure of Miss Lane, a counterfeit letter

should be delivered to her, stating that her father was lying at the point

of death. The plan succeeded; she was suffered[b] to depart, and in two

days the prince reached[c] his destination. The following morning[d] Miss

Lane took her leave, and hastened back with Lassells to Bentley.[1]

In his retirement at Trent, Charles began to indulge the hope of a speedy

liberation from danger. A ship was hired at Lyme to convey a nobleman and

his servant (Wilmot and the king) to the coast of France; the hour and

the place of embarkation were fixed; and a widow, who kept a small inn

at Charmouth, consented to furnish a temporary asylum to a gentleman in

disguise, and a young female who had just escaped from the custody of a

harsh and unfeeling guardian. The next evening[e] Charles appeared in a

servant's dress, with Juliana Coningsby riding behind him, and accompanied

by Wilmot and Windham. The hostess received the supposed lovers with a

hearty welcome; but their patience was soon put to the severest trial; the

night[f] passed away, no boat entered the creek, no ship could be descried

in the offing; and the disappointment gave birth to a thousand jealousies

[Footnote 1: This lady received a reward of one thousand pounds for her

services, by order of the two houses.--C. Journals, 1660, December 19, 21.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 17.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Sept. 18.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Sept. 19.]

[Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. Sept. 20.]

[Sidenote e: A.D. 1651. Sept. 23.]

[Sidenote f: A.D. 1651. Sept. 24.]

and apprehensions. At dawn of day the whole party separated; Wilmot, with a

servant, going to Lyme to inquire after the master of the vessel; Charles,

with his companions, proceeding to Bridport to wait the return of Wilmot.

In Bridport he found fifteen hundred soldiers preparing to embark on an

expedition against Jersey; but, unwilling to create a real, by seeking to

eschew an imaginary, danger, he boldly pushed forward to the inn, and led

the horses through the crowd with a rudeness which provoked complaint. But

a new danger awaited him at the stable. The hostler challenged him as

an old acquaintance, pretending to have known him in the service of Mr.

Potter, at Exeter. The fact was that, during the civil war, Charles had

lodged at that gentleman's house. He turned aside to conceal his alarm; but

had sufficient presence of mind to avail himself of the partial mistake of

the hostler, and to reply, "True, I once lived a servant with Mr. Potter;

but as I have no leisure now, we will renew our acquaintance on my return

to London over a pot of beer."

After dinner, the royal party joined Wilmot out of the town. The master of

the ship had been detained at home by the fears and remonstrances of his

wife, and no promises could induce him to renew his engagement. Confounded

and dispirited, Charles retraced his steps to Trent; new plans were

followed by new disappointments; a second ship, provided by Colonel Philips

at Southampton, was seized[a] for the transportation of troops to Jersey;

and mysterious rumours in the neighbourhood rendered[b] unsafe the king's

continuance at Colonel Windham's.[1] At Heale, the residence

[Footnote 1: A reward of one thousand pounds was afterwards given to

Windham.--C. Journals, Dec. 17, 1660.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 25.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 8.]

of the widow Hyde, near Salisbury, he found a more secure retreat in a

hiding-place for five days, during which Colonel Gunter, through the agency

of Mansel, a loyal merchant, engaged[a] a collier, lying at New Shoreham.

Charles hastened[b] through Hambleton to Brighton, where he sat down to

supper with Philips, Gunter, Mansel, and Tattershall the master of the

vessel. At table, Tattershall kept his eyes fixed on the king; after

supper, he called Mansel aside and complained of fraud. The person in grey

was the king; he knew him well, having been detained by him in the river,

when, as prince of Wales, he commanded the royal fleet in 1648. This

information was speedily communicated to Charles, who took no notice of it

to Tattershall; but, to make sure of his man, contrived to keep the party

drinking and smoking round the table during the rest of the night.

Before his departure, while he was standing alone in a room, the landlord

entered, and, going behind him, kissed his hand, which rested on the back

of a chair, saying at the same time, "I have no doubt that, if I live, I

shall be a lord, and my wife a lady." Charles laughed, to show that he

understood his meaning, and joined the company in the other apartment. At

four in the morning they all proceeded[c] to Shoreham; on the beach his

other attendants took their leave, Wilmot accompanied him into the bark.

There Tattershall, falling on his knee, solemnly assured him, that whatever

might be the consequence, he would put him safely on the coast of France.

The ship floated with the tide, and stood with easy sail towards the Isle

of Wight, as if she were on her way to Deal, to which port she was bound.

But at five in the afternoon, Charles, as he had previously concerted with

Tattershall,

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 14.]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Oct. 15.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Oct. 16.]

addressed the crew. He told them that he and his companion were merchants

in distress, flying from their creditors; desired them to join him in

requesting the master to run for the French coast; and, as a further

argument, gave them twenty shillings to drink. Tattershall made many

objections; but, at last, with apparent reluctance, took the helm, and

steered across the Channel. At daybreak[a] they saw before them the small

town of Fécamp, at the distance of two miles; but the tide ebbing, they

cast anchor, and soon afterwards descried to leeward a suspicious sail,

which, by her manner of working, the king feared, and the master believed,

to be a privateer from Ostend. She afterwards proved to be a French hoy;

but Charles waited not to ascertain the fact; the boat was instantly

lowered, and the two adventurers were rowed safely into the harbour.[1]

The king's deliverance was a subject of joy to the nations of Europe, among

whom the horror excited by the death of the father had given popularity to

the exertions of the son. In his expedition into England they had followed

him with wishes for his success;

[Footnote 1: For the history of the king's escape, see Blount's Boscobel,

with Claustrum Regale reseratum; the Whitgrave manuscript, printed in

the Retrospective Review, xiv. 26. Father Hudleston's Relation; the True

Narrative and Relation in the Harleian Miscellany, iv. 441, an account of

his majesty's escape from Worcester, dictated to Mr. Pepys by the king

himself, and the narrative given by Bates in the second part of his

Elenchus. In addition to these, we have a narrative by Clarendon, who

professes to have derived his information from Charles and the other actors

in the transaction, and asserts that "it is exactly true; that there is

nothing in it, the verity whereof can justly be suspected" (Car. Hist. iii.

427, 428); yet, whoever will compare it with the other accounts will see

that much of great interest has been omitted, and much so disfigured as

to bear little resemblance to the truth. It must be that the historian,

writing in banishment, and at a great distance of time, trusted to his

imagination to supply the defect of his memory.--See note (E). See also

Gunter's narrative in Cary, ii. 430.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 17.]

after his defeat at Worcester they were agitated with apprehensions for his

safety. He had now eluded the hunters of his life; he appeared before them

with fresh claims on their sympathy, from the spirit which he had displayed

in the field, and the address with which he had extricated himself from

danger. His adventures were listened to with interest; and his conduct was

made the theme of general praise. That he should be the heir to the British

crowns, was the mere accident of birth; that he was worthy to wear them,

he owed to the resources and energies of his own mind. In a few months,

however, the delusion vanished. Charles had borne the blossoms of

promise; they were blasted under the withering influence of pleasure and

dissipation.

But from the fugitive prince we must now turn back to the victorious

general who proceeded from the field of battle in triumph to London. The

parliament seemed at a loss to express its gratitude to the man to whose

splendid services the commonwealth owed its preservation. At Ailesbury

Cromwell was met by a deputation of the two commissioners of the great

seal, the lord chief justice, and Sir Gilbert Pickering; to each of whom,

in token of his satisfaction, he made a present of a horse and of two

Scotsmen selected from his prisoners. At Acton he was received by the

speaker and the lord president, attended by members of parliament and of

the council, and by the lord mayor with the aldermen and sheriffs; and

heard from the recorder, in an address of congratulation, that he was

destined "to bind kings in chains, and their nobles in fetters of iron."

He entered[a] the capital in the state carriage, was greeted with the

acclamations of the people as the procession passed through the city, and

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 12.]

repaired to the palace of Hampton Court, where apartments had been fitted

up for him and his family at the public expense. In parliament it was

proposed that the 3rd of September should be kept a holiday for ever in

memory of his victory; a day was appointed for a general thanksgiving; and

in addition to a former grant of lands to the amount of two thousand five

hundred pounds per annum, other lands of the value of four thousand pounds

were settled on him in proof of the national gratitude. Cromwell received

these honours with an air of profound humility. He was aware of the

necessity of covering the workings of ambition within his breast with the

veil of exterior self-abasement; and therefore professed to take no merit

to himself, and to see nothing in what he had done, but the hand of the

Almighty, fighting in behalf of his faithful servants.[1]

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 509. Ludlow, i. 372. Heath, 301. Journals, Sept.

6, 9, 11, 19. "Next day, 13th, the common prisoners were brought through

Westminster to Tuthill fields--a sadder spectacle was never seen except the

miserable place of their defeat--and there _sold_ to several merchants, and

sent to the Barbadoes."--Heath, 301. Fifteen hundred were granted as

slaves to the Guinea merchants, and transported to the Gold Coast in

Africa.--Parl. Hist. iii. 1374.]