The new modelling of the army was a necessary measure, and produced a
very great moral improvement. Even Hampden had spoken of the insolence
of the soldiers, and, after the fall of Reading, complaints of their
conduct reached the Earl of Essex. It was declared that they had grown
"outrageous," and that they were "common plunderers." According to
report, they had ransacked five or six gentlemen's houses in a single
morning. In fact, the Roundheads, in some instances, had grown to be
as odious as the Cavaliers; and, without better discipline, they were
threatening to prove a ruin, rather than "a remedy to this distracted
kingdom." Having claimed an independence incompatible with military
subjection, these volunteers needed a thorough re-organization, such
as was accomplished by the new model. Fairfax, in his first march
after the reform had commenced, resolved on "the punishment of former
disorders, and the prevention of future misdemeanours." Offenders were
tried and justice was summarily executed. A "renegado" was hanged _in
terrorem_ upon a tree at Wallop, in Hampshire, as certain troops were
marching through that parish; and the next day a proclamation was
issued, threatening with death any one who should dare to commit any
act of plunder. There is no reason to doubt the testimony of Joshua
Sprigg, Fairfax's chaplain, that a moral reformation ensued upon the
adoption of the new military constitution, and that the men became
"generally constant, and conscientious in duties; and by such soberness
and strictness conquered much upon the vanity and looseness of the
enemy."
[Sidenote: 1646.]
But the state of religion chiefly concerns us. If the church at Oxford
had been turned into a Royalist camp, the camp of Fairfax and Cromwell
might now be said to be turned into a Republican Church. Not that there
existed any organized ecclesiastical government, or any uniformity of
worship; but, according to the authority just quoted, "the officers,
many of them, with their soldiery, were much in prayer and reading
Scripture," an exercise which before they had "used but little." "Men
conquer better," adds the chaplain, "as they are saints than soldiers;
and in the countries where they came they left something of God as well
as of Cæsar behind them--something of piety as well as pay."[567]
[Sidenote: _Religion in the Camp._]
[Sidenote: 1646.]
Richard Baxter spent some time with the army, and has largely recorded
his opinion of its condition. He found that an "abundance of the
common troopers," and that many of the officers were honest, sober,
and orthodox; but he complains of a few proud, hot-headed sectaries,
amongst Cromwell's chief favourites, who by their "heat and activity
bore down the rest, or carried them along with them." Baxter, with
all his large-hearted charity, was not free from prejudice with
regard to this subject, and his accounts of the "sectaries" must
therefore be received with caution. He tells us they were hard upon
the Presbyterian ministers, putting some gall into their wit, calling
them "priest-byters, dry-vines, and the dissembly men." Honest
soldiers of weak judgments, and little theological knowledge, were
seduced into a disputing vein, sometimes for state democracy, and
sometimes for church democracy, sometimes against forms of prayer,
and sometimes against infant baptism,--sometimes against set times
of prayer and the binding themselves to any duty before the Spirit
moved them, and sometimes about free grace and free will, "and all the
points of Antinomianism and Arminianism." We are by this reminded of
the description of the Eastern Church by Gregory, of Nyssa. He tells
us that knots of people at the street corners of Constantinople were
discussing incomprehensibilities; in the market-place money-changers
and shopkeepers were similarly employed. When a man was asked how
many _oboli_ a thing cost, he started a discussion upon generated and
ungenerated existence. Enquiries of a baker about bread were answered
by the assertion--that the Father is greater than the Son. When
anybody wanted a bath, the reply was, the Son of God was created from
nothing.[568] With some allowance for the extravagance of the satire,
and with a change of terms to suit the Commonwealth controversies, the
description of his countrymen by the Greek preacher may be applied
to many of the soldiers of the new-modelled army. Here a field
opened for controversy, adapted to Baxter's subtle and debate-loving
nature. Honest as the day, with a passionate desire to reform the
army, he went from tent to tent, with the Bible under his arm, whilst
his eyes flashed with fire burning in the very depths of his soul.
Everybody who knows the man will believe him when he says: "I was
almost always, when I had opportunity, disputing with one or other
of them, sometimes for our civil government, and sometimes for church
order and government, sometimes for infant baptism, and oft against
Antinomianism and the contrary extreme." Well armed with theological
weapons, he was as much in his element with "the sword of the Spirit,"
cutting down regiments of ghostly errors, as any pikeman or trooper
could be as he was stabbing an enemy or firing a pistol at his breast.
Baxter particularly records an encounter he had at Amersham. Bethel's
troopers, with other sectarian soldiers, accompanied by some of the
inhabitants of Chesham, had a pitched battle with the Presbyterian
Divine. He occupied the reading pew, and his antagonists, "Pitchford's
cornet and troopers," took their place in the gallery: the church being
filled "with poor, well-meaning people, that came in the simplicity of
their hearts to be deceived." The debate went on till nightfall; Baxter
stopping to the very last, lest his retirement should be construed into
a confession of defeat.
[Sidenote: _Religion in the Camp._]
It is remarkable that this champion of orthodoxy assures us that he
found nearly one half of the religious party either sound in their
belief, or only slightly tinged with error; and that the other half
consisted of honest men, who, with kindly and patient help, seemed
likely to be recovered from their theological mistakes. There were, in
his judgment, only a few fiery spirits, and they made all the noise
and bustle. One of the heaviest charges which he brings against the
sectaries will, in the present day, redound to their honour; for he
observes: "Their most frequent and vehement disputes were for liberty
of conscience, as they called it, that is, that the civil magistrate
had nothing to do to determine anything in matters of religion, by
constraint or restraint, but every man might not only hold, but
preach and do, in matters of religion, what he pleased--that the civil
magistrate hath nothing to do but with civil things, to keep the peace,
and protect the Churches, liberties."[569] In short, it appears that
the Roundhead army really contained a set of men who anticipated John
Locke's doctrine of toleration, and something more.
[Sidenote: 1646.]
The chaplain of Fairfax was Joshua Sprigg, an Independent minister,
already mentioned. Breathing the spirit then prevalent in the camp,
he advocated the toleration of extreme opinions; but does not appear
himself to have been a man of extravagant views. His history of the
army is creditable to his intelligence and judgment; and, though
tinctured with the peculiar rhetoric of the day, it is singularly free
from all fanaticism. Another Independent Divine holding a chaplaincy
under General Fairfax was the celebrated John Owen. The General had
his head quarters for a time at Coggeshall, where Owen officiated as
vicar, and in 1648 he preached before his Excellency and the Committee
two sermons, which are published.[570] They commemorate the surrender
of Colchester, and the deliverance at Rumford; and with an oratorical
flourish, which has been severely criticised,--but which really means
nothing more than that Providence had given success to the arms of
the Parliament--the preacher speaks of the God of Marston Moor. The
accommodation of the passage in Habakkuk--"God came from Naseby,
and the Holy One from the West; His glory covered the heavens, and
the earth was full of His praise," is less defensible--though the
excitement of the moment, the flush of victory, and the aspect of a
military audience, may be allowed to mitigate our censure of Owen's
want of taste on the occasion;--and taste is hardly to be looked for in
a military preacher, amidst the throes of a revolution full of fire and
blood. The martial zeal appearing in some parts of these discourses is
only a specimen of what blazed up much more fiercely in the addresses
of other ministers who fulfilled their vocation in garrisons and tented
fields. What must some of the sermons have been, where there was not
Owen's learning, judgment, and devoutness to check the orator! And
let us not here omit to remark, that Owen was true to the principle
which was the guiding star of the new army, and insisted strongly in
these sermons upon the iniquity of persecuting men for religion. In
this respect there were few, if any, of the religious teachers popular
amongst Cromwell's troops, who did not sympathize with the Coggeshall
Divine.
[Sidenote: _Religion in the Camp._]
It is useless to pick out the names of chaplains now unknown. Many of
them, no doubt, if we were fully acquainted with their history, would
be found more respectable and worthy men than were others whom we see
thrown conspicuously on the surface, to attain by no means an enviable
notoriety. Hugh Peters is chief of this class. He certainly must have
been a man of considerable ability to have gained the influence which
he possessed; and in earlier life he could have been no worse than
a coarse but energetic preacher, followed by crowds of the common
people. Escaping to Rotterdam to avoid persecution, he became colleague
with the learned Dr. William Ames in the pastorate of an Independent
Church.[571] The man bore a good reputation then, and, it is said,
procured £30,000 for the relief of the Irish poor. He also visited New
England, and for a long time after his return did not give up the idea
of going back to America. In Sprigg's "History of the Army," Peters,
who early became a military chaplain, is introduced repeatedly as a
messenger to Parliament with tidings of victory, for which he received
handsome rewards. A chaplain might have been better employed than in
conveying messages of this nature, yet such an occupation was not so
unsuitable to his sacred character as some other employments in which
he was engaged; for it is related of him that he acted as a recruiting
officer in market towns, entered into treaty with Royalist commanders
for the surrender of garrisons, and even acted as a general of brigade
against the Irish rebels.[572]
[Sidenote: 1646.]
Another individual, less known to posterity, who combined the offices
of chaplain and captain, was Thomas Palmer, of Nottingham, the account
of whom by Lucy Hutchinson gives us an insight into a kind of character
then very common. He had a bold, ready, earnest way of preaching, and
lived holily and regularly as to outward conversation, whereby he
obtained a great reputation, which swelled his vainglorious, covetous,
contentious, and ambitious spirit. He had insinuated himself so far as
to make these godly men desire him for their captain, which he had more
vehement longing after than they, yet would have it believed that the
honour was rather forced upon him. Being at that time in the castle
with his family, he came to the governor and his wife, telling them
that these honest people pressed him very much to be their captain, and
desiring advice on the subject. They freely told him, that, as he held
a charge of another kind, they thought it not fit for him to engage in
this new one, and that he might equally advance the public service and
satisfy the men who made the request by marching with them simply in
the character of chaplain. He went away, she said, confused, observing
that he would endeavour to persuade them to be content; but afterwards
he informed her that they would not be otherwise satisfied, and so he
was forced to accept the commission.[573]
Allowing for the lady's prejudices, her story of Palmer may be admitted
in the main; and we may add that, in another part of her narrative,
she mentions four hundred people, whereof "more than half were high
malignants, who enlisted under one Mr. Coates, a minister and a godly
man."
[Sidenote: _Religion in the Camp._]
John Saltmarsh, another of the army chaplains, was a somewhat different
character. He must have been a man of irreproachable spirit, for,
according to a report preserved by Anthony Wood, "he always preached
the bonds of love and peace, praying that that might be the cord
to unite Christians in unity." "He meddled not in the pulpit with
Presbytery and Independency," but only "laboured to draw the soul
from sin to Christ."[574] Yet strange stories are told of him. He had
visions just before his death. He visited Windsor Castle, where he
refused to take off his hat to Fairfax and Cromwell, because, he said,
the Lord was angry with them for committing the saints to prison. After
administering reproof which was equally distinguished by faithfulness
and fanaticism, he took his leave, remarking that he had finished
his errand and must depart never to see the army any more. Returning
home, cheerful and in health, to his wife at Ilford, he told her he
had finished his course and must go to his Father; and then lying down
immediately afterwards upon his bed, he died quietly the next day.
These facts taken together indicate a disturbed condition of the brain
just as the soul was about to shake off its mortal coil. But on turning
to Saltmarsh's "Sparkles of Glory, or Some Beams of the Morning Star,"
the only book which we have read of his, we notice in it some of the
clearest expositions of religious liberty which can be found in the
literature of those times. The spirit of the treatise is singularly
beautiful, and the teaching of such a man must have been of a healing
tendency. It is very true he undervalued the baptism of water, and
depreciated all outward ceremonies--in fact, entertained many opinions
in common with Quakers; but he had an intense craving after spiritual
unity, believing that he found God in lower as well as in higher
things, in purer as well as in more corrupt administrations, and
expressing "his tenderness and respect towards Episcopalians at home
and abroad, though he did not approve of their forms." A mystical
element pervades his books, strongly reminding us of John Tauler; and
that person is to be pitied who can read the writings of such men
without deriving interest and edification. Each exhibits an imaginative
mind, striving eagerly to catch glimpses of the infinite and eternal,
united to a tremulously sensitive heart, which reacts on the intellect
and electrically touches it, so as to make every idea quiver with
emotion. There was an abundance of mysticism in the Parliamentary camp;
it might and did run into phantasies; but beneath much of what some
keen men of the world would ridicule as jargon and absurdity, there may
be felt the pulsations of the old patriarch's desire, "O that I knew
where I might find HIM!"
[Sidenote: 1646.]
[Sidenote: _Religion in the Camp._]
The religion of the camp, in which Fairfax and Cromwell had the rule,
will not be fully understood unless we notice the ministrations of
those officers who became theological teachers, although they claimed
no clerical character. By them indeed the distinction between clergy
and laity was quite broken down. Cromwell, Harrison, Berry, and others,
preached and prayed in a manner esteemed by many of the soldiers more
edifying than that of some Presbyterian, or even some Independent
clergymen. It would be idle to judge of them by rules applicable to
the arrangements of a standing army of the present day; although few
now would object to religious efforts for the welfare of soldiers
such as were employed by the late lamented General Havelock. But,
nobody can deny that fondness for preaching became a monomania in the
Parliamentary army. It led to inflammatory harangues, and also to dry
and distressing diatribes. Ninety-seven divisions might be numbered
in discourses by these sermonizing majors.[575] A preference for the
style of preaching peculiar to such persons, or a prejudice in favour
of doublet and cuirass over Genevan cloak and bands, or a belief in
current scandals touching the parochial clergy, made the Roundhead
soldiers at times disgracefully impatient under the preaching of
regular ministers:--as, for example, when Captain Pretty, at Taunton,
"with much admirable incivility," commanded the Presbyterian, Master
Shepherd, to come down from the pulpit, publicly charging him with a
"disorderlie walk."
[Sidenote: 1646.]
Thank God, by the side of this fanatical folly, and even mixed up with
it, there may be discovered also much of honest devotion and Christian
morality. In many a military assembly during the civil wars, gathered
in town or country church--or under some canvas roof in the midst of
a camp--or in the open air by the hill-side--or in the depth of a
valley--or upon a village green--or under the shadow of a secluded
grove--where some unlettered soldier preached the gospel and prayed
with his comrades--though there might be not a little to shock a
cultivated taste, there would be very much more which was acceptable to
Him who is a Spirit, and who overlooks much which is annoying to us, if
men do but worship Him in spirit and in truth. Favourably would these
simple and irregular forms compare with more orderly and imposing modes
of religious service in cathedrals and churches and chapels,
"Where men display to congregations wide,
Devotion's every grace except the heart."
Those who fought at Marston Moor and Naseby could not have cultivated
so much communion with the Invisible as they did, without thereby
gaining strength for carrying the daily burdens and fighting the common
battles of human life. There is hardly more of poetry than of truth in
the picture of a Puritan trooper with his helmet on the ground, and his
sword-belt unfastened, sitting by his tent door in the heat of the day,
to talk with the angels of God, whom faith in the well-worn book on his
knee had enabled him to behold:--or, of another veteran of the same
class, the night before a great battle, with clasped hands, looking up
to the bright stars, seeking by prayer the help which he needed from
the God above them. And all this kind of experience must have made such
people not only better soldiers, but better men. It might not correct
those obliquities of vision with which they regarded the character of
their own cause, and the conduct of its enemies; but, where the great
questions of the day did not interfere with their judgment and their
will, prayer and the Bible helped to make them what it was their duty
to be in the common relationships of human life, in their neighbourly
charities, and in their habitual behaviour as fathers and husbands,
as brothers and sons, as friends and citizens. We are convinced that
multitudes of those who fought for the liberties of their country in
the civil wars, were not the contemptible fanatics which they are
frequently represented as being, but noble-hearted men, of whom the
world was not worthy, and England may well be proud.
[Sidenote: _Religion in the Camp._]
[Sidenote: 1646.]
Some years afterwards, Whitelocke, the Commonwealth Ambassador to
Christina of Sweden, had a curious conversation with her Majesty,
respecting the religion of the army. "I have been told," said the
Queen, "that many officers of your army will themselves pray and
preach to the soldiers; is that true?" Whitelocke replied, "Yes, madam,
it is very true. When their enemies are swearing, or debauching, or
pillaging, the officers and soldiers of the Parliament's army used
to be encouraging and exhorting one another out of the Word of God,
and praying together to the Lord of Hosts for His blessing to be with
them; who hath shewed His approbation of this military preaching by
the successes He hath given them." "That's well. Do you use to do so,
too?" asked the Queen. "Yes," said the Ambassador, "upon some occasions
in my own family, and think it is as proper for me, being the master
of it, to admonish and speak to my people, when there is cause, as to
be beholden to another to do it for me, which sometimes brings the
chaplain into more credit than his lord." "Doth your General and other
great officers do so?" she proceeded to enquire. "Yes, madam," returned
Whitelocke, "very often, and very well. Nevertheless, they maintain
chaplains and ministers in their houses and regiments; and such as are
godly and worthy ministers have as much respect and as good provision
in England as in any place of Christendom. Yet 'tis the opinion of
many good men with us, that a long cassock, with a silk girdle, and
a great beard, do not make a learned or good preacher, without gifts
of the Spirit of God, and labouring in His vineyard; and whosoever
studies the Holy Scriptures, and is enabled to do good to the souls of
others, and endeavours the same, is nowhere forbidden by that Word, nor
is it blameable. The officers and soldiers of the Parliament held it
not unlawful, when they carried their lives in their hands, and were
going to adventure them in the high places of the field, to encourage
one another out of His Word, who commands over all; and this had more
weight and impression with it than any other word could have, and was
never denied to be made use of but by the popish prelates, who by no
means would admit lay people (as they call them) to gather from thence
that instruction and comfort which can nowhere else be found." The
Queen complimented the theological envoy. "Methinks you preach very
well, and have now made a good sermon. I assure you I like it very
well." The politeness of a courtier was not wanting in return. "Madam,
I shall account it a great happiness if any of my words please you."
Her Majesty continued to say, "Indeed, Sir, these words of yours do
very much please me; and I shall be glad to hear you oftener on that
strain. But I pray, tell me, where did your General, and you, his
officers, learn this way of praying and preaching yourselves?" "We
learnt it from a near friend of your Majesty," he added, with truth and
adroitness, "whose memory all the Protestant interest hath cause to
honour." "My friend," replied the Queen, "who was that?" "It was your
father," rejoined Whitelocke, "the great King Gustavus Adolphus, who
upon his first landing in Germany (as many then present have testified)
did himself in person upon the shore, on his knees, give thanks to
God for His blessing upon that undertaking; and he would frequently
exhort his people out of God's Word; and God testified His great liking
thereof, by the wonderful successes He was pleased to vouchsafe to
that gallant King."[576] But we must leave the religious exercises of
Cromwell's army, as our history now requires us to follow King Charles
to the Scotch camp.
From May to July the Divine right of Presbyterianism formed a salient
topic of conversation and debate amongst citizens and statesmen.[577]
From May to July the same question was agitated at Newcastle between
King Charles and Alexander Henderson.
[Sidenote: _Charles I. and Henderson._]
The backbone of the King's strength having been broken at Naseby,
and his midland capital being environed with a Parliamentary army,
the monarch, defeated on all sides, resolved to flee. Though every
reasonable hope had vanished, still he kept up his spirits--trusting to
his own talent for intrigue, to some wonderful interposition of Divine
Providence, and, above all, to that divinity which "doth hedge a king."
In a state of entire indecision as to whither he should bend his
steps, the royal fugitive rode out of Oxford, and pursued the road to
London. A thoughtful journey it must have been; and, at last, as he
approached the metropolis, at Hillingdon, his heart sunk within him,
when, pulling his bridle to the left, he galloped off through a cross
country to the Scotch camp at Newark.[578] Arrived there, his treatment
by those into whose arms he threw his fortunes without his confidence,
was sufficient to cast him into absolute despair but for that strange
hopefulness to which we have just referred. Removing with the army from
Newark to Newcastle, the annoyances of his position considerably
increased.[579] In his letters to Queen Henrietta Maria--his dear
heart, as he fondly called her--he complained of being barbarously
baited and threatened, of new vexations which happened to him every
day; declaring to her that there never was a man so lonely as he, and
then with a beautiful touch of tenderness he assured the woman--really
the star of his evil fortunes--that she was his last comfort, and that
her letters in cypher were around him all day, and under his pillow all
night.[580]
[Sidenote: 1646, July.]
[Sidenote: _Charles I. and Henderson._]
Alexander Henderson sought to effect the King's conversion. Sheets and
sheets of closely-written paper passed between them throughout those
wearisome months. Each did his best. Day after day, night after night,
these controversialists read and reflected, wrote and revised, and
it must be allowed, to the credit of the King, that the intelligence
and acuteness which he brought to this undertaking appear exceedingly
respectable, even in comparison with all the accomplishments of his
clerical antagonist.[581] Charles contended for the _jus Divinum_ of
Episcopacy, and the apostolical succession of bishops; Henderson for
the _jus Divinum_ of presbyteries and the human origin of prelacy.
The monarch upheld the authority of the Fathers as interpreters
of the Bible; the minister the interpretation of Scripture by
Scripture--declaring patristic writings and traditions to be unworthy
of trust. The royal disputant contended that inferior magistrates and
the people had no power to reform religion; the clerical respondent
that such persons did possess it, and that it became them to exercise
it when even kings failed to perform their duty. The Prince urged that
he was bound by his coronation oath to preserve the Church of England,
and that he could be released only by the voice of the Church itself;
the Presbyter that Parliament had sufficient authority to remove this
obligation. His Majesty asked what warrant there was in the Word of
God for subjects to force the royal conscience, and to make a ruler
alter laws against his will? The reverend gentleman replied that when
a man's conscience is misled, he necessarily does that which is amiss,
and that his duty is to have his conscience better informed, and not
to move till he has struck a light, and made further discoveries. This
question involved another, as to the right of the subject to take
up arms, which, of course, Charles held to be absolutely unlawful;
whilst Henderson asserted the right of defensive war against unjust
authority. It is enough to give this summary. Inconclusive arguments
were advanced on both sides, and each was more powerful in attack than
he was in defence. Under the circumstances, no good could come out of
the controversy, for neither of the disputants would concede one jot;
and what is still more important to be borne in mind is this, that the
arbitrament of the question between them now rested in other hands.
[Sidenote: 1646, July.]
The Parliament in July again held out propositions for peace. Papers
duly signed by the clerks of both Houses were formally entrusted to
the Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, to the Earl of Suffolk, and to
other commissioners, attended by Stephen Marshall, who acted as their
chaplain. They travelled to Newcastle on the 24th of July. Thither they
and the Scotch commissioners went in their coaches, at two o'clock in
the afternoon, to wait upon his Majesty. He resided in a fine old
house, with ornamented gables, goodly bays, mullioned windows, and a
door-way guarded by columns--a mansion now totally demolished, but
once the pride of Anderson's-place, in that famous town on the banks
of the Tyne. When the visitors had entered this temporary palace, the
King came forth into a large chamber which was made use of for the
chamber of presence, and there stood at the end of a table until each
had kissed his hand. He intimated his pleasure that they should follow
him into another room, where the Earl of Pembroke stated that they had
brought the Parliament's propositions for his Majesty to consider.
"Have you power to treat?" asked the monarch, anxiously looking at the
commissioners. "No," they replied; upon which he uttered one of those
blunt, petulant speeches which did him almost as much damage as his
proverbial insincerity. "Then, saving the honour of the business, an
honest trumpeter might have done as much." As the propositions were
read, the King listened attentively, and at last observed: "Gentlemen,
I hope you do not expect a very speedy answer, because the business is
of high concernment." They said their stay was limited to ten days,
whereupon he promised despatch, and so terminated the interview.
Mr. Marshall preached the next Sunday before the King, and took as
the subject of his discourse, Isaiah xxxii. 17, "And the work of
righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of righteousness quietness
and assurance forever."[582]
[Sidenote: _Newcastle Treaty._]
The propositions stipulated, that his Majesty should call in his
declarations against the Parliament; place the control of the militia
in its hands for twenty years; make void all peerages which had been
conferred since May the 20th, 1642; punish such delinquents as had
been proscribed; and disannul the Irish treaty. With these political
demands others were coupled in relation to the Church. First, his
Majesty must take the Covenant, and enjoin the same on his subjects;
next, the ecclesiastical reformation must be completed, and Popery
for ever crushed. Moreover, the bill, which had been transformed into
an ordinance for constituting the Westminster Assembly, must receive
the royal assent; and besides these, other measures, five in number,
which he had not sanctioned, and which he was desired to confirm,
were repeatedly mentioned in the negotiations: (1) The abolition of
the hierarchy; (2) the due observance of the Lord's Day; (3) the
suppression of innovations; (4) the advancement of preaching; and (5)
the prevention of non-residence. Such were the objects to which the old
bills referred, and a new one is mentioned as about to be framed for
regulating the Universities and Schools of England.[583]
[Sidenote: 1646.]
Charles did not at once break with the Presbyterians when these
proposals were made to him; on the contrary, he professed a
conciliatory spirit, and kept alive their hopes of his at last making
some considerable concessions;[584] yet all the while he felt a most
intense antipathy to their whole system. As a staunch Episcopalian,
he hated Presbyterianism in itself, and he hated it also, and perhaps
still more, because it touched his royal prerogatives, and because,
if established, it would leave him only the name of a King; since,
under pretence of a thorough reformation of religion, it would in
reality take away all ecclesiastical power from the crown. All this he
had said in letters which he wrote to the Queen; and, in one written
from Newcastle (September the 7th), six weeks after the Parliamentary
Commissioners had read their paper to him in the Council-room, he
thus expresses himself to his "dear heart:"--"I assure thee that
(by the grace of God) nothing can be said or done to me which shall
make me quit my grounds; as, for instance, neither to grant the
London propositions as they are (without great amendment), or sign or
authorize the Covenant, without which, I must again tell thee, I am
more and more assured that nothing can be expected from the Scots."
Allusions in his private correspondence to the Covenant for awhile
betray no excitement: they are calmly expressed; but at last, doubtless
harassed by solicitations on that point, enough to try any man's
temper, he bursts into a violent passion, and writes to his wife in the
following language: "This damned Covenant is the child of rebellion,
and breathes nothing but treason, so that, _if Episcopacy were to be
introduced by the Covenant, I would not do it_."[585] It was impossible
for him to have said anything stronger than this; and with such
feelings on the part of the King, the Newcastle Treaty came to an end.
[Sidenote: _Newcastle Treaty._]
If a good deal of manœuvering appear in the negotiations with the
Presbyterians carried on by Charles at Newcastle, there is as much
downright intrigue with other parties to be discovered in his conduct
at the same time. He inherited some portion of his father's love of
kingcraft, and he employed to the utmost whatever ability of that
description he possessed. To repair his broken fortunes, he sedulously
endeavoured to make tools of the Independents, watching with great
satisfaction the animosity existing between them and the Presbyterians,
and hoping, as he says, that one of the factions would so address him
that he might without difficulty attain his ends.[586]
And with the one great object of this part of his life in view, he
was prepared to make terms with the Papists. In a letter from Oxford,
March the 12th, 1646, addressed to his wife, he speaks of a former
communication in which he had said: "I will take away all the penal
laws against the Roman Catholics in England as soon as God shall enable
me to do it, so as by their means I may have so powerful assistance as
may deserve so great a favour and enable me to do it; and furthermore
I now add, that I desire some particular offers by or in the favour
of the English Roman Catholics, which, if I shall like, I will then
presently engage myself for the performance of the above-mentioned
conditions. Moreover, if the Pope and they will visibly and heartily
engage themselves for the re-establishment of the Church of England and
my crown (which was understood in my former offer) against all opposers
whatsoever, I will promise them on the word of a King to give them here
a free toleration of their consciences."[587]
[Sidenote: 1646.]
Of course, all this intriguing involved much duplicity. The collection
of letters which were written by Charles in 1646, and which are
now published, will be found to exhibit this prominent feature of
the King's character. Whenever he formally conceded any point, some
quibbling about words, some dishonest reserve, some loophole out
of which he might wriggle, is sure to appear in connection with a
Jesuitical conscientiousness which was ever weaving casuistic theories,
and starting ethical questions, in order to cover with a veil of
seemliness the most dishonest and fraudulent acts. Charles was not
rashly false; he did not heedlessly tell lies; he had undoubtedly
certain notions of rectitude, which served occasionally to disquiet his
spirit; and he wished to appear to himself honest and true, even at the
moment of his wishing to deceive others. His mind, however, in these
respects, is but a specimen of a large class of persons in this world
of many-coloured falsehoods and delusions.
[Illustration]