Chapter XXIV: Charles I. And The Civil War (2)

More and more occupied in the west, the general-in-chief of the Parliamentary armies had allowed himself to be allured by easy successes. As he approached Exeter, the queen sent to ask for a safe-conduct, in order to proceed to Bath to recover from her accouchment. "If your Majesty wishes to repair to London," he replied, "not only will I give you a safe-conduct, but I will accompany you myself. It is there that you will receive the best advice and the most efficacious cares for the restoration of your health. For any other place I cannot accede to your desires without consulting Parliament." Essex might be dispirited, and disgusted even with the cause he had embraced; he could not fail in fidelity. Stricken with terror, the queen fled to Falmouth, where she embarked for France.

Upon the advice of several of his officers, Essex entered Cornwall. The population were hostile to him, and the king was pressing him closely. He asked for reinforcements and counselled that Waller should effect a diversion upon the rear of the royal army. The committee of the two kingdoms was earnest, agitated, ordered public prayers, and commanded Waller and Middleton to march to the aid of the general. "Let money and men be sent to me," wrote Waller; "God is my witness that it is not my fault if I do not go more quickly; if the money does not come, I shall go without money." He did not depart. Middleton moved his army forward, but stopped at the first obstacle. Essex remained alone.

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Abandoned by Parliament, the general was ardently sought after by the Royalists, who were incapable of believing that a man of his rank could earnestly serve any other cause than theirs. The king wrote him on the 6th of August, at his headquarters at Lestwithiel, a letter full of esteem and promises, urging him to restore peace to his country. It was Lord Beauchamp, nephew of the earl, who brought the royal missive. "I have but one counsel to give to the king, that is to return to his Parliament." Charles did not persist, but many cavaliers around him desired peace, and were beginning to shake off the exclusive yoke of the royal will. They resolved to offer to the earl their personal guarantee for the promises of the king. A rough draft of a letter, signed by Lords Wilmot and Percy, commanders of the cavalry and infantry, circulated among the officers. The king concealed his ill-humor. His nephew. Prince Maurice, like the Earl of Brentford, commander-in-chief of the royal army, signed the proposals of negotiation addressed to the hostile general. The king had authorized the proceeding. "My Lords," replied Essex, "you have been careful to express, in the first lines of your letter, in virtue of what authorization it has been addressed to me. I have received from Parliament which I serve no authority to negotiate, and I could not lend myself to it without a breach of trust. I am, my Lords, your very humble servant, Essex."

It remained but to fight with the redoubled ardor which arises from vexation. The Parliamentary general was hemmed in on all sides by the royalist forces. Skirmishes took place every day, without great result. Provisions were becoming scarce in the army of Parliament. The Royalists had come so near that they could see all that went on in the camp. Essex resolved to endeavor to reach the port of Fowey. {125} The cavalry, under orders of Sir William Balfour, spent the night between the two divisions of the royal army; but the infantry became involved in narrow roads, where they advanced slowly; they were pursued by all the army of the king: they had lost their baggage; they spoke aloud of capitulating. Essex could not submit to so great a disgrace; he reached the coast with two officers, threw himself into a boat and made sail for Plymouth, leaving his army under the orders of Major-General Skippon. The soldiers were discouraged, the officers discontented: the king caused unexpected terms to be proposed to them; the capitulation was accepted. The artillery, provisions, and arms remained in the hands of the Royalists. The men were reconducted to the quarters of the Parliamentarians. They had saved their lives and liberty, but without arms and without a leader they traversed, under the escort of the cavaliers, the counties which they had but recently overrun as conquerors. Their general had fled from this humiliation; he did not endeavor to escape the justice of his country; he wrote to Parliament, on arriving at Plymouth, "It is the most severe blow which our cause has ever sustained. I desire nothing so much as to be put upon my trial; such disasters should not be suppressed."

The English Parliament was worthy to have descended from the old Roman Senators contending against Hannibal. Instead of placing Essex upon trial, the formation of a new army for his use was immediately set about. The imminence of the peril rallied to his party those men who were uncertain, and the leaders of the Independents, able and patient, were in no hurry to throw light upon the causes which had brought about the defeat of the earl. Manchester and Waller received orders to join the army of Essex. {126} When the king, confident from his successes in Cornwall, and glad to learn that at the instigation of Montrose, war had broken out in Scotland, commenced his movements towards London, he encountered by the way imposing forces. The army of Essex was there, but its general was wanting. The earl, disheartened and ill, had remained in London. The assurances of the confidence of Parliament had not sufficed to rouse him from his dejection: battle was given in his absence on the 29th of October, once more before Newbury.

The action was long and desperate. The soldiers of Essex performed on this occasion prodigies of valor to retake the cannon which they had lost in Cornwall; but they remained uncertain, and both sides claimed the victory. The king abandoned his designs upon London, and withdrew towards Oxford, where he counted upon taking up his winter quarters. Cromwell reproached the Earl of Manchester with having attacked without vigor, and with having but feebly followed up his advantages. The struggle became more resolute every day between the Presbyterians and the Independents--between the partisans of peace and those who desired war at any price. Of these latter, Cromwell was becoming the acknowledged leader.

Essex and his friends resolved to attempt a great effort. They urged the committee of the House which, for six months, had worked with the Scotch commissioners, to prepare the proposals for peace. In a few days these proposals were presented to the Houses, discussed and adopted. On the 20th of November, nine commissioners set out to present them to the king. {127} They found him at Oxford, and on the first day the insults of the cavaliers towards the Parliamentarians threatened to bring about personal encounters between the emissaries of the Parliament and the partisans of the king. "Have you power to negotiate?" asked Charles of Lord Denbigh. "No, Sire, our mission is limited to presenting to your Majesty the proposals, and to soliciting your answer in writing." "Well; I will remit it to you (he replied) as soon as I am able." The commissioners waited for three days. The proposals of Parliament were not conciliatory; they involved a veritable abdication of the royal power. When the commissioners from Parliament were at length summoned before the king, he consigned a sealed document to them, saying, "This is my answer; take it to those who have sent you." Lord Denbigh in vain endeavored to ascertain what the document contained; the king would not give to the Houses the name of Parliament. "Your duty is to take my answer, were it only the ballad of Robin Hood." "The matter which has brought us, Sire, is a trifle more serious than a ballad." "I know it; but you told me that you had no power to negotiate. My memory is as good as yours; you were only charged to remit the proposals to me. A post-boy would have done as much in the matter as you." The conversation became more and more bitter. The commissioners set out on their return, without obtaining from the king an admission that his message was addressed to Parliament. He only asked for a safe-conduct for the Duke of Richmond and the Earl of Southampton. They proceeded to London, and conferences were resolved upon; these were to take place at Uxbridge. Forty commissioners, twenty-three in the name of Parliament, and seventeen in the name of the king, were to discuss that peace which was every day becoming more the object of all the desires as well as the only hope of the Presbyterians.

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The Independents knew this well, but they also knew the passionate pride and the deceptions of the king, and the fanaticism and haughtiness of the Parliamentarians. While dreading the pacific conferences which might have caused the triumph of their rivals, they occupied themselves in preparing for war. Cromwell made a great speech condemning the division of power and the slowness of the military operations. "If the army be not put into another method, and the war more vigorously prosecuted, the people can bear the war no longer, and will enforce you to a dishonorable peace. Let us waive a strict inquiry into the causes of these things; let us apply ourselves to the remedy which is most necessary. And I hope we have such true English hearts and zealous affections towards the general weal of our mother-country, as no members of either House will scruple to deny themselves and their own private interest for the public good, nor account it to be a dishonor done to them whatever Parliament shall resolve upon." "There is but one way to end the matter," said Zouch Tate, an obscure fanatic, "each of us must freely sacrifice himself. I propose that no member of either House shall, during the war, enjoy or execute any office or command, civil or military, and that an ordinance be brought in accordingly."

After the first moment of astonishment, a violent discussion arose. It was in the Houses that lay all the strength of the Presbyterians, until then the real leaders of the revolution. The "self-denying" ordinance deprived them of the executive power and created an army of strangers to Parliament. {129} They did not deceive themselves as to the pretended disinterestedness which had inspired the proposals of Cromwell and his friends. "There is some talk here of self-denial," they said; "it will be the triumph of personal envy and interest." But this time public opinion was with the Independents. The Presbyterian party was worn-out and discredited. Notwithstanding their real strength in the House of Commons, the ordinance was voted and sent up to the House of Lords on the 21st of September.

In voting the proposal of Zouch Tate, the Upper House abandoned the remnant of power which it still retained, for nearly all its members were affected. While they deliberated, the political leaders of the party in the House of Commons increased the concessions to the religious prejudices, as well as to the malignant resentments of the multitude. Long-forgotten prosecutions were resumed. Archbishop Laud, imprisoned for four years, was condemned by a simple ordinance of the two Houses, illegal even according to the traditions of Parliamentary tyranny. He died with pious courage, filled with scorn for his adversaries and with uneasiness for the future of the king. Sir John Hotham and his son, accused of having plotted to deliver to the king the town of Hull; Lord Macguire, who had fomented the Irish insurrection, and Sir Alexander Carew, governor of the island of St. Nicholas, who had relaxed his zeal in favor of the royalist conspiracies, expiated their transgressions by capital punishment. At the same time, the litany of the Church of England, hitherto tacitly tolerated, was definitively abolished. A book entitled _Directions for Public Worship_ received instead the sanction of Parliament, which no longer refused anything to the fanatics whose support it claimed. The House of Lords did not deceive their hopes. On the 15th of January, 1645, it rejected the self-denying ordinance.

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A few days later, on the 29th of January, the negotiations at Uxbridge were at length opened. The king had consented to accord to the Houses at Westminster the name of Parliament. "If I had had in my council," he wrote to the queen, "two persons of my own opinion, I should never have yielded." The negotiators wished for peace, with the exception of Vane, St. John, and Prideaux, who formed other projects.

The will of men soon yields to the irresistible force of circumstances. Each of the Parliamentary factions had its private interest. The two parties endeavored to secure power in case peace should be concluded. Theological discussions inflamed the political negotiations. The conferences, begun with mutual good-will and courtesy, soon became bitter and difficult to manage. On each side, the ebullition of popular passions aggravated the difficulties. An obscure minister arriving from London, preached in the parish church of Uxbridge, in presence of a numerous gathering. "No good must be expected from those men," he said, speaking of the Royalists; "they have come from Oxford with their hearts full of blood. They only wish to divert the people until they may be able to cause them some great evil. There is as great a distance between this treaty and peace as between earth and heaven." The people were convinced that in his heart the king did not wish for peace.

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His councillors were as distrustful as the mob. The end of the negotiations was approaching. Some concession which might at length cause the scale to turn was insisted upon at the court of Charles. He gave way to entreaties, and promised to propose to Parliament a certain number of leaders of the army, among whom were Cromwell and Fairfax. The friends of peace were joyful. Lord Southampton, who had negotiated the whole affair, was preparing to depart for Uxbridge, in order to announce the favors accorded by his Majesty. When he presented himself at the king's quarters to receive his final instructions, Charles had altered his mind and withdrawn his promise. News of a victory achieved in Scotland by Montrose, over the army commanded by Argyle, had revived all his high hopes. The conferences at Uxbridge were broken up, on the 22nd of February, without having brought about any result. The Presbyterian leaders, sorrowful and dejected, returned to Westminster, to convince themselves personally that their adversaries had contrived to make profitable use of the time during their absence. The military reorganization was effected. A single army, mustering twenty-one thousand men, was henceforth to maintain the struggle. On the 15th of February, the command of this army had been entrusted to Fairfax, for whom Cromwell had answered in public to Parliament, in secret to the parties. The almost constant successes of the young general, besides, spoke for him. He had already received the official compliments of the speaker in the House of Commons, in the midst of which body he had been introduced.

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The Presbyterian leaders in vain attempted to recover from this defeat. Their friends even were becoming weary of the constant efforts necessary to support them. The Marquis of Argyle had arrived from Scotland; bitterly resolved to wipe out the remembrance of his defeat at Inverlochy, he made use of his influence to turn aside the Scottish commissioners from a longer opposition. "We must yield to necessity," he said; "this division places everything on sufferance." The vote which had consigned to Fairfax the effective power, had preserved Essex in his command, as well as Manchester and Waller. The earl resolved to give in his resignation. He rose, on the 1st of April, in the Upper House, with a written paper in his hand, for he could not make a speech. "My Lords," he said, "having received this great charge, in obedience to the commands of both Houses, and taken their sword into my hand, I can with confidence say that I have for this now almost three years faithfully served you, and I hope without loss of honor to myself, or prejudice to the public. I see by the now coming up of these ordinances that it is the desire of the House of Commons, that my commission may be vacated. I return my commission into those hands that gave it me, wishing it may prove as good an expedient to the present distempers as some will have it believed. My Lords, I know that jealousies cannot be avoided, yet wisdom and charity should put such restraints thereto as not to allow it to become destructive. I hope that this advice from me is not unseasonable, wishing myself and my friends may, among others, participate the benefit thereof. This proceeding from my affection to Parliament, the prosperity whereof I shall ever wish from my heart, what return soever it may bring me, I being no single example in that kind of that fortune I now undergo."

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Manchester and Waller followed the example of Essex. The Upper House, delivered from an obligation of fidelity which weighed upon it, hastened to adopt the scheme of remodelling the army, and on the morrow a fresh self-denying ordinance, slightly different from the first, though tending towards the same result, was voted by the two Houses. The power was now definitively displaced. It passed from the hands of Parliament into those of the army.

Fairfax encountered little difficulty on the part of the officers and soldiers called upon to serve under his orders. Essex loyally advised his friends, Cromwell hastened to proceed to preach submission to the battalions of the Ironsides. As he had fully resolved, he was not long separated from them. Towards the end of April, Fairfax was about to open the campaign, when Cromwell arrived at Windsor to kiss, he said, the hand of the general and to bring his resignation to him. "I have just," Fairfax said, "received from the Committee of the Two Kingdoms orders enjoining you to proceed immediately, with a few squadrons, to the road from Oxford to Worcester to intercept communications between Prince Rupert and the king." Cromwell immediately set out. Three brilliant skirmishes and the capture of the town of Blechingdon signalized his march. Parliament voted that Cromwell should retain his command for forty days longer. Three other members of the House of Commons, distinguished officers, received the same instructions, doubtless in order that Cromwell should not appear to be alone excepted from the operation of the law.

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Meanwhile the king, having issued forth from Oxford, had joined Prince Rupert, and was advancing rapidly towards the north. The siege of Chester was raised at his approach, and he directed his course towards the associated counties of the east. A few days later, he took possession of Leicester. Fairfax, who was besieging Oxford by the order of the Committee of the two kingdoms, had made no movement to hinder the course of his successes. The Presbyterians were already triumphant. "There then is the fruit of this reorganization which was so much vaunted," they said; "the king in one day takes our best towns, and your general remains motionless before Oxford, waiting, doubtless, for the women of the court to take alarm and open the gates to him." They did not speak of the inaction of the Scotch, who had fallen back upon their frontiers instead of marching to meet the king. Fairfax received orders to raise the siege of Oxford, to seek the king and give battle to him at all costs. In his turn, he wrote to the Houses to demand the prolongation of the service of Cromwell. Sixteen colonels signed the letter. On the 12th of June, in the environs of Northampton, some Parliamentary horsemen, sent to reconnoitre, suddenly came up with a detachment of the army of the king.

Charles was advancing, in fact, to relieve Oxford. The successes of Montrose in Scotland renewed his confidence. "Since the rebellion," he wrote to the queen, "my affairs have never been in so good a state." He made no haste, but enjoyed the amusement of hunting upon his way, allowing full liberty to his cavaliers, who were even more confident than their master. He was expecting troops which were to arrive from Wales and the western counties. When he obtained tidings of the approach of the Parliamentarians, he fell back towards Leicester. Meanwhile, the hostile squadrons caused uneasiness to his rear-guard. Cromwell had joined the army. The king resolved to give battle without awaiting his reinforcements.

[Image] "Will You Go Upon Your Death?"

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The encounter took place on the morrow, the 14th of June, upon the table-land of Naseby, north-west of Northampton. At daybreak, the army of the king, posted in an advantageous position, awaited the Parliamentarians. The latter did not attack. Prince Rupert, always impatient, advanced to the front with his cavalry. He soon encountered the advanced guard of the enemy. Fearing that they would withdraw, the prince continued his advance, giving orders for the army to support the movement. About ten o'clock the Royalists arrived, somewhat distressed by the rapidity of their movements. The action commenced at once, and was fierce and general. The two armies were of about equal strength. The cavaliers, intoxicated by anticipation with the joy of victory, had taken for their rallying-cry the words, "Queen Mary." The Parliamentarians cried aloud, "God is with us." Prince Rupert broke the squadrons of Ireton, who was afterwards to marry one of the daughters of Cromwell. He immediately pursued the fugitives; but Cromwell, master of himself and his men as at Marston Moor, had broken up the cavaliers commanded by Sir Marmaduke Langdale, and, entrusting two of his officers with the duty of preventing them from rallying, he returned, with a portion of his troops, to the field of battle. There the infantry of both sides were engaged: Skippon was seriously wounded, but he remained obstinately at the head of his soldiers. The helmet of Fairfax had been battered in by a blow from a sword, and he fought bare-headed. Meanwhile the cavaliers held their ground, and a corps of royal infantry remained immovable notwithstanding the reiterated attacks of Doyley, the colonel of the guards of Fairfax. {136} "Take them in front, I will take them in the rear," said the general; "we shall meet again in the midst of them." They did so, in effect, at the moment when Cromwell, with his victorious squadrons, arrived to support them. At the sight of this new and dangerous enemy, the king, in great distress, placed himself in person at the head of the regiment of guards. These were all that remained to him, and he was preparing to charge the Ironsides, when the Earl of Carnewarth, a Scotchman, who galloped beside him, abruptly seized the bridle of his horse, exclaiming, "Will you go upon your death?" and compelled him to turn to the right. The cavaliers followed the movement without understanding the reason for it. In an instant the regiment turned their backs upon the enemy. All disbanded, some to seek safety in flight, others to restrain the fugitives. The king, surrounded by a few officers, in vain cried, "Halt! halt!" Prince Rupert returned. A small corps was re-formed around the king, but the soldiers were weary and dismayed. Charles, sword in hand, with eager eyes and despair visible upon his countenance, threw himself twice in front, exclaiming with all his energy, "Gentlemen, another charge, and we shall win the day." None followed him. The infantry were routed or prisoners. The only safety lay in flight. The king precipitated himself towards Leicester with about two thousand cavalry. His artillery, his supplies, his baggage, his standards, and all the papers in his cabinet, together with five thousand prisoners, remained in the hands of the Parliamentarians.

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No loss could have been more damaging to the cause of the king than that of his secret correspondence. After Fairfax had modestly informed the House of this unexpected success, and Cromwell had joined to the news some pious reflections and some of his politic counsels, the papers of the king were opened, notwithstanding the scruples of Fairfax. Proof was therein found that he had never desired peace; that no concession was, in his eyes, definitive; no promise binding; that in his heart he always counted upon force, and still claimed absolute power. Finally, that, in spite of his reiterated denials, he had applied to the King of France, the Duke of Lorraine--to all the princes of the Continent, in fact--to introduce foreign troops into the kingdom. A protestation was even found, inscribed upon the registers of the council of Oxford, against that name of Parliament which he had consented to accord to the Houses for the purposes of the conferences at Uxbridge. Falsehood was in every part written by the very hand of the king. After the public assemblage at the Guildhall, where an immense crowd was present at the reading of the papers, Parliament caused them to be published. The king did not dispute their authenticity.

Exasperation was general, and the warlike ardor revived on all hands. In order to make peace it would have been necessary to put trust in the king; it was now known what his word was worth. Fairfax advanced towards the western counties, only recently devoted to the royal cause; but the great noblemen or the popular and disinterested gentlemen, the Marquis of Hertford, Sir Bevil Grenvil, Sir Ralph Hopton, were dead, or had been removed by court conspiracies, which were favored by the weakness of the king. {138} The young Prince of Wales, fifteen years of age, accompanied by Hyde, Colepepper, and Lord Capel, commanded in the capacity of generalissimo. The troops were entrusted to Lord Goring and Sir Richard Grenville, one the most dissolute, the other the most avaricious of the cavaliers. Disorder and extortions had alienated the people. Bodies of peasants were formed under the name of "Clubmen," to resist pillage. When Fairfax appeared in the west, the Royalists ceased devastating the country, and the Clubmen turned against Fairfax and his soldiers; but the Parliamentary general did not permit any license. He treated the peasants with gentleness, and entered into negotiations with them, while he was actively prosecuting the war. On the 10th of July Goring was surprised and defeated at Langport, in Somersetshire, and the troops which remained with him were dispersed. Sir Richard Grenville, being no longer able to plunder, sent back to the Prince of Wales his commission as Field-Marshal, complaining with effrontery of the burdens which the war had imposed upon him, and the cavaliers remaining faithful withdrew into the towns which Fairfax was preparing to besiege.

Meanwhile the king appeared to have forgotten for a moment his misfortunes and anxieties. Wandering about, after the disaster of Naseby, he had finally arrived in Wales, where he hoped to recruit some infantry, while Prince Rupert set out for Bristol. Charles accepted the splendid hospitality of the Marquis of Worcester, the leader of the Catholic party and the richest of the great noblemen of England. For a fortnight the fugitive king found once more in Ragland Castle all the homage and pleasures of a court, and he thought of nothing but enjoying that royalty of which he had so long tasted the bitterness and mortifications.

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The successes of his adversaries did not leave the king long in repose. To the news of the reverses in the west was added that of the success of the Scotch army which had taken Carlisle and was advancing towards the south to lay siege to Hereford. Charles desired to march to the aid of Goring; but he was arrested at every step by the bad condition of his troops. He fell back upon Cardiff, where the Duke of Richmond brought him a letter written by Prince Rupert, and intended to be shown him. The prince considered that all was lost, and counselled peace at all costs. This time the honor of the king was in question, and he regained all his energy. He immediately wrote to his nephew: "If I had any other quarrel but the defence of my religion, crown, and friends, you had full reason for your advice. Speaking rather as a mere soldier or statesman, I confess there is probability of my ruin. As a Christian, however, I must tell you that God will not suffer rebels to prosper, or His cause to be overthrown. Of this I warn my friends without evasion. Henceforth whoever remains with me must expect to die for a good cause; or, worse still, to live while sustaining it as miserable as insolent rebels can render him. In God's name let us not flatter ourselves with vain chimeras. The idea alone that you desire a treaty would hasten my ruin." A few days later, the king, quitting Wales, passed, without being perceived, beyond the quarters of the Scotch army, already encamped before Hereford, and arrived by forced marches in Yorkshire. He convoked, at Doncaster, his faithful cavaliers, to proceed with him to join Montrose, still faithful and still victorious.

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The cavaliers hastened at the summons. The king found himself in a few days at the head of a body of three thousand men. They were preparing to join Montrose, and only awaited their instructions, when it was learned that David Lesley, at the head of the Scotch cavalry, was approaching Doncaster. The Royalists took alarm. Many retired, and when the news of the recent and brilliant successes of Montrose reached the king, he had no longer sufficient forces to attempt the venture. He was urged not to expose his person. He re-entered Oxford, on the 29th of August, not knowing what to do with the few troops which he had left.

The victories of Montrose, however, revived the dejected monarch. Edinburgh and Glasgow were in the hands of the conqueror. He had set free all the Royalists whom the Scotch Parliament had kept in prison, and timid men hastened to place themselves under his standard. The Scotch had recalled David Lesley with his cavalry. They needed all their strength to protect their country.

The king wished to take advantage of the enfeeblement of the Scotch army. He advanced towards Hereford; but the besiegers did not await him, and fell back towards the north. He was urged to pursue them, but refused to do so, being already wearied by this effort so little in accord with his tastes and habits. Prince Rupert held Bristol, which town Fairfax was besieging. He promised to resist for four months. The king did not trouble himself about the matter and repaired to take rest at Ragland, at the residence of Lord Worcester, with whom he had constant conferences. {141} Scarcely had he arrived when he learnt that Bristol was occupied by Fairfax. Prince Rupert had surrendered the town at the first assault, almost without resistance, when as yet nothing had failed him--neither provisions nor soldiers. Charles was dismayed. It was his ruin in the west and the most bitter disappointment of the hopes he had placed in his nephew. His courtiers, especially Lord Digby, who detested Rupert, envenomed his anger. He wrote to the prince an offensive letter, which concluded with these words: "My conclusion is to desire you to seek your subsistence, until it shall please God to determine of my conditions, somewhere beyond seas; to which end I send you herewith a pass, and I pray God to make you sensible of your present position and give you means to recover what you have lost, for I shall have no greater joy in a victory than a just occasion without blushing to assure you of my being your loving uncle and most faithful friend,--C. R."

Prince Rupert had taken refuge in Oxford. He did not depart, despite the injunctions of the king. He asserted that he had been calumniated, and asked to make an explanation to his uncle; but Lord Digby had taken care to prevent the interview. Charles resumed the road to the north. He wished to relieve Chester, which was again besieged, and was now the only port in which the assistance expected from Ireland could arrive. He was in sight of the town with five thousand men, Welsh foot-soldiers or cavaliers of the north, when he was attacked in the rear by a Parliamentary corps, commanded by Major-General Poyntz. {142} A detachment coming from the little army which was investing Chester, attacked the advance guard at the same time. The king, pressed between two fires, after a desperate resistance, saw his best officers fall around him, and was compelled to return to Wales, abandon Chester to its fate and once more separated as though by an insurmountable barrier from that camp of Montrose which constituted his only hope.

The army of Montrose no longer existed. For ten days already, the marquis had, like the king, been seeking a shelter while endeavoring to collect his soldiers. On the 30th of September he had been beaten at Philip-Haugh by David Lesley. His forces had dissolved at the first blow. Brilliant and rash, in the base he excited envy, while in the timid he inspired no sense of security. A reverse sufficed to dissipate all his successes, and on the morrow of his defeat the conqueror of Scotland was only an audacious outlaw.

This last blow overwhelmed the king. He no longer knew where to rest his hopes. Urged by Lord Digby, he retired to Newark, while the courtier, determined to avoid an interview with Prince Rupert, who had set out to rejoin the king, placed himself at the head of fifteen hundred horse, which Charles still possessed. Under the pretext of taking succor to Montrose, he started for the north.

The explanations of Prince Rupert did not satisfy the king, notwithstanding the favorable declaration of the council of war. The insolence of the cavaliers who accompanied his nephew hurt his dignity. A quarrel began. "Begone, begone!" exclaimed Charles angrily, "and do not appear again before me." Agitated in their turn, Rupert, his brother Maurice, and their partisans quitted Newark in the middle of the night. {143} The king was no longer safe there. Lord Digby had been defeated at Sherborne, in his march towards the north. There were now on the king's side neither soldiers nor generals. Charles assembled together four or five hundred cavaliers, the remnants of several regiments, and, on the 3d of November, at eleven o'clock at night, he left the town, taking the road to Oxford. He re-entered the city after a forced march, thinking himself saved, for he had once more found his council and his court, and could indulge his habits and find some repose.

The relief was not of long duration. The royalist towns were falling one by one into the power of Fairfax and Cromwell. Fifteen had surrendered or had been taken by assault within five months. Scarcely had Charles returned to Oxford, when he wrote to the Prince of Wales to hold himself in readiness to proceed to the Continent. At the same time he made overtures of peace to Parliament, demanding a safe-conduct for four negotiators.

Never had Parliament been less inclined towards peace. The hundred and thirty new members, who had replaced in the House of Commons those who had followed the king, had increased the power and daring of the Independents, though all did not belong to their party. The severities towards the Royalists were redoubled. The war everywhere became harsher, sometimes cruel. Fairfax alone still preserved the fine humanity which distinguished nearly all the leaders at the opening of the war. Misunderstandings broke out even between the Scots and the Houses. The former complained that their army was not paid; the latter, that an army of allies plundered and devastated, like a hostile body, the counties which it occupied. {144} The strongest fermentation, the deepest hostility, the bitterest and most decisive measures on all hands, left little chance for peace to arrest or even suspend the rapid course of events.

The overtures of the king were rejected, and a safe-conduct was refused to the negotiators. Charles persisted, but without success, and as he proposed to repair to Westminster to negotiate in person with Parliament, his enemies solemnly declared that they at length possessed proof of the falsity of his words. The king had concluded a treaty of alliance with the Catholic Irishmen still in revolt. Ten thousand of these barbarians, under the orders of the Earl of Glamorgan, were soon to land at Chester. They had obtained, as the price of their assistance, the complete abolition of the penal laws against the Catholics, and the freedom of their worship. Ireland, in fact, was delivered up to the Papacy. For two months the Committee of the two kingdoms had known of the conspiracy and reserved the publication of it for an important occasion. The day had at length arrived.

The king was struck down by this discovery. For two years he had personally conducted this negotiation with the Earl of Glamorgan, the eldest son of the Marquis of Worcester. Brave, generous, thoughtless, passionately devoted to his master in danger, and to his oppressed religion, Glamorgan had plotted in every form, proceeding incessantly from England to Ireland, often entrusted with secret missions unknown to the Marquis of Ormond, lieutenant of the king in Ireland, and alone knowing to what point the concessions of the king might reach. The treaty had been concluded since the 20th of August preceding, and Parliament did not know all that Charles had promised in its name.

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When it was learned in Dublin that the plot was known in London, Ormond easily saw what a blow the affairs of the king had sustained even among his own party. He immediately caused Glamorgan to be arrested as having exceeded his powers. The earl kept his counsel, and did not produce the secret documents signed "Charles," which he held in his hands. He even said that the king was not bound to ratify what he had thought himself able to promise for him. On his part, Charles hastened to disown the affair in the proclamation which he addressed to the Houses, as well as in his official letters to the Council of Dublin. Glamorgan, he said, had no other mission than to recruit soldiers and to second the efforts of the Lord Lieutenant. Neither Parliament nor the people believed this. Glamorgan, being soon released, recommenced his attempts to assemble an Irish army to proceed to England. In reply, the command of Cromwell, already several times renewed, was again prolonged, and the king found himself compelled to resume hostilities as though he had been in a position to sustain them.

The last remnants of the royalist armies still fought, but without ardor and without hope. When the Prince of Wales found himself abandoned by his generals, Goring and Grenville, he implored Sir Ralph, now Lord Hopton, to resume command of the troops in the west. "Your Highness," replied the brave soldier, "I cannot obey you without resigning myself to the sacrifice of my honor, for with the troops which you have entrusted to me how can I preserve it? {146} Their friends alone fear them; their enemies despise them; they are only terrible on the day of pillage; and only determined when they are resolved to fly. However, since your Highness has judged it well to summon me, I am ready to follow you at the risk of losing my honor;" and he resumed the command of seven or eight thousand men who detested him, and to whom his discipline was odious. On the 16th of February he was defeated by Fairfax at Torrington, upon the borders of Cornwall. All the troops that had remained with him were dispersed. Fairfax pursued him, while the Prince of Wales, driven into a corner at the Land's End, in Cornwall, embarked for the Scilly Isles, being unwilling to leave English soil. Fairfax offered honorable conditions. Hopton, free from all anxiety as to the safety of the prince, desired to attempt once more to fight with the small corps which he had re-formed with great difficulty; but the soldiers called upon him to capitulate. "Bargain, then," said Hopton, "but not for me." He embarked with Lord Chapel to join the Prince of Wales. The king now possessed in the south-west only insignificant garrisons, scattered in a few towns.

Sir Jacob Astley was defeated at Stow, in Gloucestershire, as he was advancing with three thousand men to join the king, who had issued forth with fifteen hundred horse from Oxford to meet him. The rout was complete. The aged Astley resisted for a long while, then fell into the hands of the enemy. The soldiers, touched by his white hairs and his courage, brought him a drum. He sat down; then addressing the Parliamentary officers, he said, "Gentlemen, you may now sit down and play, for you have done all your work, if you fall not out among yourselves." {147} The king had no longer any hope save in the dissensions which he might foment among his enemies. He had for a long while been maintaining secret relations with the Independents, especially with Vane. He wrote himself to the latter after Astley's disaster, "Be assured that everything shall come to pass according to my promise. By all that is dearest to a man, I implore you to hasten your good offices, for otherwise it will be too late, and I shall perish before gathering the fruit. Trust to me. I will fully reward your services. I have said all. If in four days I should not have an answer I shall be compelled to find some other expedient. May God direct you! I have done my duty." He at the same time addressed a message to the Houses, offering to disband his troops, to open all his towns, and to take up his residence again at Whitehall.

Great was the emotion at Westminster; all knew that if the king were at Whitehall he would no longer be the object of the disturbances if the city should break out, and all were equally determined not to fall into his power. All the necessary precautions were adopted to prevent Charles from appearing unexpectedly in the capital. Violent measures were taken against those who should negotiate secretly or who should maintain any relations with him. Vane left the letter of the king unanswered.

Meanwhile Fairfax advanced, and Oxford was about to be invested. The king made an offer to Colonel Rainsborough, who had already arrived before the town, to surrender to him on condition that he should conduct him to Parliament at once. The colonel refused. Charles was about to fall as a prisoner of war into the hands of his enemies. {148} One resource only remained to him. For two months M. de Montreuil, the French ambassador, had been laboring to procure him an opportunity of taking refuge in the camp of the Scots. He thought himself secure of the personal safety of the king in the midst of an army which looked upon Charles as its legitimate sovereign. The queen, still in France, also kept up relations with the Scotch military leaders. She urged her husband to put trust in them. He still hesitated, but he issued forth from Oxford on the 27th of April, at midnight, followed only by his valet-de-chambre, Ashburnham, and a clergyman. Dr. Hudson, well versed in all the roads.

For a moment, when at Harrow-on-the-Hill, in sight of London, the king stopped. Should he take a bold step and suddenly appear in the midst of the city? It was too venturesome a stroke for his timid and sensitive dignity. He turned away, directing his course towards the north, still desiring to join Montrose. Hudson, who had gone forward to reconnoitre, came back to say that M. de Montreuil still answered for the Scots. The king at length made up his mind, though from weariness rather than from choice. On the morning of the 5th of May he arrived at Kelham, the headquarters of the Scotch commander.

The Earl of Leven and his officers at first affected surprise, but they received the king with great respect. They however hastened to apprise the Parliaments of Edinburgh and London, and, in the evening, when the king wished to give the watchword to the sentinels placed at his door, "Pardon me, Sire," Leven said, "I am the oldest soldier here; your Majesty will permit me to undertake that duty."

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It was soon known in London that the king had quitted Oxford, but nothing indicated the direction of his flight. On the 6th of May it was at length learned that he had confided his person to the Scotch, who had raised their camp and were marching in great haste towards the border. They only stopped at Newcastle. From there the king could negotiate with the Presbyterians of the two kingdoms.

This was what all the Independents dreaded. For a year past everything had prospered with them. They were masters of the army, and all daring spirits, the energetic and ambitious had placed themselves under their banner. Their influence continued to increase on all hands. They were ruined if at the moment of reaching the summit of power, the king should ally himself with the Presbyterians against them.

They adopted every means to ward off the blow, without scrupling to offend the Scotch, whom they desired to separate from the Presbyterian party in England. The Commons voted that the Scotch army was no longer necessary; that a hundred thousand pounds would be paid to it in advance on account of their claims, and that it should be induced to return to Scotland. Insults were lavished upon those allies, of whom it was now desired to be rid at all costs.

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The Scotch and their illustrious guest facilitated the task of their enemies. They were not angry, but they hesitated, they felt their way carefully, they were afraid to take sides. The king still endeavored to deceive his rebellious subjects. "I do not despair," he wrote to Lord Digby before his departure from Oxford, "of inducing the Presbyterians or the Independents to join with me to exterminate each other, and then I shall become once more king in reality." On their side, the Presbyterians, passionately attached to the Covenant, would not hear of any arrangement which did not secure the triumph of their Church. While promising the king to negotiate for peace, they gave further tokens of fidelity towards their brothers, the English, and caused the execution of the most illustrious companions of Montrose, who had been prisoners of war since the battle of Philip-Haugh. The Marquis of Ormond published a letter of the king, asserting that he only repaired to the camp of the Scotch upon their promise, in case of need, to support him and his just rights. The Scotch immediately caused this almost exact interpretation of their words to be belied. The cavaliers could no longer have access to their master, and the clergy were invited to instruct the monarch in the true doctrine of Christ.

Charles did not resist, but even bore with the theological discussions; though the learned preacher, Henderson, who had undertaken his conversion, was not able to congratulate himself upon having shaken the king's fidelity to the Anglican Church. Charles was expecting proposals from the House, to whom he caused to be surrendered all the towns which still held out for him. But he hoped for aid from Ireland, and he wrote to Glamorgan, who was still the sole depositary of his secret designs, "If you can procure a large sum of money for me, pledging my kingdoms as a guarantee, I shall be delighted, and as soon as I shall have recovered the possession, I will amply pay this debt. Tell the nuncio that if I find some means of placing myself in his hands and yours, I will certainly not neglect it, for all the others despise me as I fully see."

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At length the proposals of Parliament arrived: they were more humiliating and harsh than those which the king had hitherto rejected. He was asked to adopt the Covenant, to abolish the Church of England, to consign to the Houses for twenty years the command of the army, the militia, and the navy; to allow to be excluded from the armistice seventy-one of his most faithful friends, while all those who had taken arms for him were to be removed from all public functions at the good pleasure of Parliament. On all sides he was urged to accept this disgraceful peace. The queen sent messenger after messenger to him. M. de Bellièvre, the French ambassador, proceeded to Newcastle to advise him to accept it in the name of his court. Several towns in Scotland sent amicable petitions to him. The city of London wished to do likewise: a formal prohibition only prevented it. Threats were coupled with entreaties. The general assembly of the Scotch Church demanded, if the king should refuse the Covenant, that he should be forbidden to remain on Scottish soil, and the Chancellor of Scotland, Lord Lowsden, made him understand that, deprived of his hereditary kingdom, he might very probably find himself deposed in England.

All was powerless against the pride of the king, his religious scruples and also some secret hope which credulous or intriguing friends still kept alive. After having delayed his reply from day to day, he at length consigned to the commissioners on the 1st of August, a written message, in which, without absolutely rejecting the proposals, he again demanded that he should be received in London to negotiate in person with Parliament.

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The Independents were unable to restrain their joy. "What is to become of us," said a Presbyterian, "now that the king has refused our proposals?" "What would have become of us if he had accepted them?" replied an Independent. The Scotch proposed to withdraw from England; but they required first the settlement of the arrears, and their claims were enormous. It was necessary to decide who should dispose of the person of the king. The parties commenced the struggle upon this point.

An understanding was arrived at, however, after bitter words and reciprocal recriminations. The arrears were fixed at four hundred thousand pounds sterling, and the House of Commons finally brought the Lords to accept the vote in the terms it had given out for five months past, "that to Parliament alone belonged the right of disposing of the king's person." The Scots resisted feebly, saying that Charles was their king as well as the sovereign of the English. Charles continued to demand to negotiate in person with Parliament.

The wish was as useless the fifth time as the first. The Houses had just signed the treaty which arranged for the withdrawal of the Scotch army, and how the price should be paid. The name of the king was not mentioned in all the clauses of this negotiation, but, on the 3d of December, 1646, at the moment when the convoy of wagons bearing twenty thousand pounds sterling to the Scotch, entered York, the Houses voted that the king should be conducted to Holmby Castle, in Northamptonshire. {153} On the 12th of January, 1647, nine commissioners, three Lords, and six members of the Commons departed from London to take possession respectfully of their sovereign. The dignity of the king proudly resisted this terrible blow. "I am bought and sold," he said, when he learnt that the Parliament of Scotland officially consented to his being consigned into the hands of the English; but he quietly finished his game of chess, replying to the growing anxiety of his servants that he would make known his will to the commissioners when they should arrive. He awaited them without countenancing the confused projects of flight or insurrection which were being hatched around him. The people began to take pity on him. One Sunday, at Newcastle, the Scotch minister who preached before him having chosen his text from a version of the 52d Psalm, beginning,

Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself,
Thy wicked deeds to praise?

the king suddenly rose and began instead of this the 56th Psalm, commencing,

Have mercy on me, Lord, I pray,
For men would me devour!

The whole congregation joined with him. A last attempt of the Scotch in favor of the Covenant having miscarried, the Scotch army delivered both Newcastle and the king into the hands of the English. On the 9th of February, Charles left that town under the escort of a regiment of cavalry, everywhere followed by a numerous crowd which thronged on his way, not hostile, but respectful, and asking him to touch the sick persons afflicted with king's evil. The commissioners became uneasy at this gathering, but their prohibitions were ineffectual. When the king arrived at Holmby, where many gentlemen from the neighborhood had assembled, he congratulated himself upon the reception which he had received from his subjects.

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