Chapter II (1)

Treaty At Uxbridge--Victories Of Montrose In Scotland--Defeat Of The King At Naseby--Surrender Of Bristol--Charles Shut Up Within Oxford--Mission Of Glamorgan To Ireland--He Is Disavowed By Charles, But Concludes A Peace With The Irish--The King Intrigues With The Parliament, The Scots, And The Independents--He Escapes To The Scottish Army--Refuses The Concessions Required--Is Delivered Up By The Scots.

Whenever men spontaneously risk their lives and fortunes in the support of a particular cause, they are wont to set a high value on their services, and generally assume the right of expressing their opinions, and of interfering with their advice. Hence it happened that the dissensions and animosities in the court and army of the unfortunate monarch were scarcely less violent or less dangerous than those which divided the parliamentary leaders. All thought themselves entitled to offices and honours from the gratitude of the sovereign; no appointment could be made which did not deceive the expectations, and excite the murmurs, of numerous competitors; and complaints were everywhere heard, cabals were formed, and the wisest plans were frequently controlled and defeated, by men who thought themselves neglected or aggrieved. When Charles, as one obvious remedy, removed the lord Wilmot from the command of the cavalry, and the lord Percy from that of the ordnance, he found that he had only aggravated the evil; and the dissatisfaction of the army was further increased by the substitution of his nephew Prince Rupert, whose severe and imperious temper had earned him the general hatred, in the place of Ruthen, who, on account of his infirmities, had been advised to retire.[1]

Another source of most acrimonious controversy was furnished by the important question of peace or war, which formed a daily subject of debate in every company, and divided the royalists into contending parties. Some there were (few, indeed, in number, and chiefly those whom the two houses by their votes had excluded from all hopes of pardon) who contended that the king ought never to lay down his arms till victory should enable him to give the law to his enemies; but the rest, wearied out with the fatigues and dangers of war, and alarmed by the present sequestration of their estates, and the ruin which menaced their families, most anxiously longed for the restoration of peace. These, however, split into two parties; one which left the conditions to the wisdom of the monarch; the other which not only advised, but occasionally talked of compelling a reconciliation, on almost any terms, pretending that, if once the king were reseated on his throne, he must quickly recover every prerogative which he might have lost. As for Charles himself, he had already suffered too much by the war, and saw too gloomy a prospect before him, to be indifferent to the subject; but, though he was now prepared to make sacrifices, from which but two years before he would have recoiled with horror, he had still resolved never to subscribe to conditions irreconcilable with his honour and conscience; and in this temper of

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

mind he was confirmed by the frequent letters of Henrietta from Paris, who reminded him of the infamy which he would entail on himself, were he, as he was daily advised, to betray to the vengeance of the parliament the Protestant bishops and Catholic royalists, who, trusting to his word, had ventured their all for his interest.[1] He had now assembled _his_ parliament for the second time; but the attendance of the members was scarce, and the inconvenience greater than the benefit. Motions were made ungrateful to the feelings, and opposed to the real views of the king, who, to free himself from the more obtrusive and importunate of these advisers, sent them

[Footnote 1: This is the inference which I have drawn from a careful perusal of the correspondence between Charles and the queen in his Works, p. 142-150. Some writers have come to a different conclusion: that he was insincere, and under the pretence of seeking peace, was in reality determined to continue the war. That he prepared for the resumption of hostilities is indeed true, but the reason which he gives to the queen is satisfactory, "the improbability that this present treaty should produce a peace, considering the great strange difference (if not contrariety) of grounds that are betwixt the rebels' propositions and mine, and that I cannot alter mine, nor will they ever theirs, until they be out of the hope to prevail by force" (p. 146). Nor do I see any proof that Charles was governed, as is pretended, by the queen. He certainly took his resolutions without consulting her, and, if she sometimes expressed her opinion respecting them, it was no more than any other woman in a similar situation would have done. "I have nothing to say, but that you have a care of your honour; and that, if you have a peace, it may be such as may hold; and if it fall out otherwise, that you do not abandon those who have served you, for fear they do forsake you in your need. Also I do not see how you can be in safety without a regiment of guard; for myself, I think I cannot be, seeing the malice which they have against me and my religion, of which I hope you will have a care of both. But in my opinion, religion should be the last thing upon which you should treat; for if you do agree upon strictness against the Catholics, it would discourage them to serve you; and if afterwards there should be no peace, you could never expect succours either from Ireland, or any other Catholic prince, for they would believe you would abandon them after you have served yourself" (p. 142, 143).]

into honourable exile, by appointing them[a] to give their attendance on his queen during her residence in France.[1]

In the last summer the first use which he had made of each successive advantage, was to renew[b] the offer of opening a negotiation for peace. It convinced the army of the pacific disposition of their sovereign, and it threw on the parliament, even among their own adherents, the blame of continuing the war. At length,[c] after the third message, the houses gave a tardy and reluctant consent; but it was not before they had received from Scotland the propositions formerly voted as the only basis of a lasting reconciliation, had approved of the amendments suggested by their allies, and had filled up the blanks with the specification of the acts of parliament to be passed, and with the names of the royalists to be excepted from the amnesty. It was plain to every intelligent man in either army that to lay such a foundation of peace was in reality to proclaim perpetual hostilities.[2] But the king, by the advice of his council, consented to make it the subject of a treaty, for two ends; to discover whether it was the resolution of the houses to adhere without any modification to these high pretensions; and to make the experiment, whether it were not possible to gain one of the two factions, the Presbyterians or the Independents, or at least to widen

[Footnote 1: See the letters in Charles's Works, 142-148. "I may fairly expect to be chidden by thee for having suffered thee to be vexed by them (Wilmot being already there, Percy on his way, and Sussex within a few days of taking his journey), but that I know thou carest not for a little trouble to free me from great inconvenience."--Ibid. 150.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, vii. 53. The very authors of the propositions did not expect that the king would ever submit to them.--Baillie, ii. 8, 43, 73.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. July 4.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. Sept. 5.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1644. Nov. 23.] the breach between them by furnishing new causes of dissension.[1]

At Uxbridge, within the parliamentary quarters, the commissioners from the two parties met each other.[a] Those from the parliament had been commanded to admit of no deviation from the substance of the propositions already voted; to confine themselves to the task of showing that their demands were conformable to reason, and therefore not to be refused; and to insist that the questions of religion, the militia, and Ireland, should each be successively debated during the term of three days, and continued in rotation till twenty days had expired, when, if no agreement were made, the treaty should terminate. They demanded that episcopacy should be abolished, and the Directory be substituted in place of the Book of Common Prayer; that the command of the army and navy should be vested in the two houses, and intrusted by them to certain commissioners of their own appointment; and that the cessation in Ireland should be broken, and hostilities should be immediately renewed. The king's commissioners replied, that his conscience would not allow him to consent to the proposed change of religious worship, but that he was willing to consent to a law restricting the jurisdiction of the bishops within the narrowest bounds, granting every reasonable indulgence to tender consciences, and raising on the church property the sum of one hundred thousand

[Footnote 1: Charles was now persuaded even to address the two houses by the style of "the Lords and Commons assembled in the parliament of England at Westminster," instead of "the Lords and Commons of parliament assembled at Westminster," which he had formerly used.--Journals, vii. 91. He says he would not have done it, if he could have found two in the council to support him.--Works, 144, Evelyn's Mem. ii. App. 90. This has been alleged, but I see not with what reason, as a proof of his insincerity in the treaty.]

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

pounds, towards the liquidation of the public debt; that on the subject of the army and navy he was prepared to make considerable concessions, provided the power of the sword were, after a certain period, to revert unimpaired to him and his successors; and that he could not, consistently with his honour, break the Irish treaty, which he had, after mature deliberation, subscribed and ratified. Much of the time was spent in debates respecting the comparative merits of the episcopal and presbyterian forms of church government, and in charges and recriminations as to the real authors of the distress and necessity which had led to the cessation in Ireland. On the twentieth day nothing had been concluded. A proposal to prolong the negotiation was rejected by the two houses, and the commissioners returned to London and Oxford.[a] The royalists had, however, discovered that Vane, St. John, and Prideaux had come to Uxbridge not so much to treat, as to act the part of spies on the conduct of their colleagues; and that there existed an irreconcilable difference of opinion between the two parties, the Presbyterians seeking the restoration of royalty, provided it could be accomplished with perfect safety to themselves, and with the legal establishment of their religious worship, while the Independents sought nothing less than the total downfall of the throne, and the extinction of the privileges of the nobility.[1]

Both parties again appealed to the sword, but with very different prospects before them; on the side of the royalists all was lowering and gloomy, on that of the parliament bright and cheering. The king had

[Footnote 1: See Journals, vii. 163, 166, 169, 174, 181, 195, 211, 231, 239, 242-254; Clarendon, ii. 578-600.]

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

derived but little of that benefit which he expected from the cessation in Ireland. He dared not withdraw the bulk of his army before he had concluded a peace with the insurgents; and they, aware of his difficulties, combined their demands, which he knew not how to grant, with an offer of aid which he was unwilling to refuse. They demanded freedom of religion, the repeal of Poyning's law, a parliamentary settlement of their estates, and a general amnesty, with this exception, that an inquiry should be instituted into all acts of violence and bloodshed not consistent with the acknowledged usages of war, and that the perpetrators should be punished according to their deserts, without distinction of party or religion. It was the first article which presented the chief difficulty. The Irish urged the precedent of Scotland; they asked no more than had been conceded to the Covenanters; they had certainly as just a claim to the free exercise of that worship, which had been the national worship for ages, as the Scots could have, to the exclusive establishment of a form of religion which had not existed during an entire century. But Charles, in addition to his own scruples, feared to irritate the prejudices of his Protestant subjects. He knew that many of his own adherents would deem such a concession an act of apostasy; and he conjured the Irish deputies not to solicit that which must prove prejudicial to him, and therefore to themselves: let them previously enable him to master their common enemies; let them place him in a condition "to make them happy," and he assured them on the word of a king, that he would not "disappoint their just expectations."[1] They were not, however, to be satisfied

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

with vague promises, which might afterwards be interpreted as it suited the royal convenience; and Charles, to throw the odium of the measure from himself on his Irish counsellors, transferred the negotiation to Dublin, to be continued by the new lord lieutenant, the marquess of Ormond. That nobleman was at first left to his own discretion. He was then authorized to promise the non-execution of the penal laws for the present, and their repeal on the restoration of tranquillity; and, lastly, to stipulate for their immediate repeal, if he could not otherwise subdue the obstinacy, or remove the jealousy of the insurgents. The treaty at Uxbridge had disclosed to the eyes of the monarch the abyss which yawned before him; he saw "that the aim of his adversaries was a total subversion of religion and regal power;" and he commanded Ormond to conclude the peace whatever it might cost, provided it should secure the persons and properties of the Irish Protestants, and the full exercise of the royal authority in the island.[1]

[Footnote 1: Carte's Ormond, ii. App. xii. xiv. xv. xviii. iii. cccxxxi. He thus states his reasons to the lord lieutenant:--"It being now manifest that the English rebels have, as far as in them lies, given the command of Ireland to the Scots" (they had made Leslie, earl of Leven, commander-in-chief of all the English as well as Scottish forces in Ireland), "that their aim is the total subversion of religion and regal power, and that nothing less will content them, or purchase peace here; I think myself bound in conscience not to let slip the means of settling that kingdom (if it may be) fully under my obedience, nor lose that assistance which I may hope from my Irish subjects, for such scruples as in a less pressing condition might reasonably be stuck at by me.... If the suspension of Poining's act for such bills as shall be agreed upon between you there, and the present taking away of the penal laws against papists by a law, will do it, I shall not think it a hard bargain, so that freely and vigorously they engage themselves in my assistance against my rebels of England and Scotland, for which no conditions can be too hard, not being against conscience or honour."--Charles's Works, 149, 150.]

In Scotland an unexpected but transient diversion had been made in favour of the royal cause. The earls, afterwards marquesses, of Antrim and Montrose had met in the court at Oxford. In abilities Montrose was inferior to few, in ambition to none. The reader is aware that he had originally fought in the ranks of the Covenanters, but afterwards transferred his services to Charles, and narrowly escaped the vengeance of his enemies. Now, that he was again at liberty, he aspired to the glory of restoring the ascendancy of the royal cause in Scotland. At first all his plans were defeated by the jealousy or wisdom of Hamilton; but Hamilton gradually sunk, whilst his rival rose in the esteem of the sovereign.[1] Antrim, his associate, was weak and capricious, but proud of his imaginary consequence, and eager to engage in undertakings to which neither his means nor his talents were equal. He had failed in his original attempt to surprise the castle of Dublin; and had twice fallen into the hands of the Scots in Ulster, and twice made his escape; still his loyalty or presumption was unsubdued, and he had come to Oxford to make a third tender of his services.

[Footnote 1: When Hamilton arrived at Oxford, Dec. 16, 1643, several charges were brought against him by the Scottish royalists, which with his answers may be seen in Burnet, Memoirs, 250-269. Charles pronounced no opinion; but his suspicions were greatly excited by the deception practised by Hamilton on the lords of the royal party at the convention, and his concealment from them of the king's real intentions. On this account Hamilton was arrested, and conveyed to Pendennis Castle, in Cornwall, where he remained a prisoner till the place was taken by the parliamentary forces. Hamilton's brother Lanark was also forbidden to appear at court; and, having received advice that he would be sent to the castle of Ludlow, made his escape from Oxford to his countrymen in London, and thence returned to Edinburgh. His offence was, that he, as secretary, had affixed the royal signet to the proclamation of August 24, calling on all Scotsmen to arm in support of the new league and covenant.--See p. 36.]

Both Antrim and Montrose professed themselves the personal enemies of the earl of Argyle, appointed by the Scottish estates lieutenant of the kingdom; and they speedily arranged a plan, which possessed the double merit of combining the interest of the king with the gratification of private revenge. Having obtained the royal commission,[1] Antrim proceeded to Ulster, raised eleven or fifteen hundred men among his dependants, and despatched them to the opposite coast of Scotland under the command of his kinsman Alaster Macdonald, surnamed Colkitto.[2] They landed at Knoydart: the destruction of their ships in Loch Eishord, by a hostile fleet, deprived them of the means of returning to Ireland; and Argyle with a superior force cautiously watched their motions.[a] From the Scottish royalists they received no aid; yet Macdonald marched as far as Badenoch, inflicting severe injuries on the Covenanters, but exposed to destruction from the increasing multitude of his foes. In the mean time, Montrose, with the rank of lieutenant-general, had unfurled the royal standard at Dumfries;[b] but with so little success, that he hastily retraced his steps to Carlisle, where by several daring actions he rendered such services to the royal cause, that he received the title of marquess from the gratitude of the king. But the fatal battle of Marston Moor induced him to turn his thoughts once more towards Scotland;[c] and having ordered his followers to proceed to Oxford, on

[Footnote 1: He was authorized to treat with the confederate Catholics for ten thousand men; if their demands were too high, to raise as many men as he could and send them to the king; to procure the loan of two thousand men to be landed in Scotland; and to offer Monroe, the Scottish commander, the rank of earl and a pension of two thousand pounds per annum, if with his army he would join the royalists. Jan. 20, 1644.--Clarendon Papers, ii. 165.]

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

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. July 8.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. April 13.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1644. May 6.]

the third day he silently withdrew with only two companions, and soon afterwards reached in the disguise of a groom the foot of the Grampian Hills. There he received intelligence of the proceedings of Macdonald, and appointed to join him in Athole.[a] At the castle of Blair, which had surrendered to the strangers, the two chieftains met: Montrose assumed the command, published the royal commission, and called on the neighbouring clans to join the standard of their sovereign. The Scots, who had scorned to serve under a foreigner, cheerfully obeyed, and to the astonishment of the Covenanters an army appeared to rise out of the earth in a quarter the most remote from danger; but it was an army better adapted to the purpose of predatory invasion than of permanent warfare. Occasionally it swelled to the amount of several thousands: as often it dwindled to the original band of Irishmen under Macdonald. These, having no other resource than their courage, faithfully clung to their gallant commander in all the vicissitudes of his fortune; the Highlanders, that they might secure their plunder, frequently left him to flee before the superior multitude of his foes.

The first who dared to meet the royalists in the field, was the lord Elcho, whose defeat at Tippermuir gave to the victors the town of Perth, with a plentiful supply of military stores and provisions.[b] From Perth they marched towards Aberdeen; the Lord Burley with his army fled at the first charge; and the pursuers entered the gates with the fugitives.[c] The sack of the town lasted three days: by the fourth many of the Highlanders had disappeared with the spoil; and Argyle approached with a superior force.[d] Montrose, to avoid the enemy, led his followers into Banff, proceeded

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. August 1.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. Sept. 1.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1644. Sept. 12.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1644. Sept. 19.]

along the right bank of the Spey, crossed the mountains of Badenoch, passed through Athole into Angus, and after a circuitous march of some hundred miles, reached and took the castle of Fyvie. There he was overtaken by the Covenanters, whom he had so long baffled by the rapidity and perplexity of his movements.[a] But every attempt to force his position on the summit of a hill was repelled; and on the retirement of the enemy, he announced to his followers his intention of seeking a safer asylum in the Highlands. Winter had already set in with severity; and his Lowland associates shrunk from the dreary prospect before them; but Montrose himself, accompanied by his more faithful adherents, gained without opposition the braes of Athole.

To Argyle the disappearance of the royalists was a subject of joy. Disbanding the army, he repaired, after a short visit to Edinburgh, to his castle of Inverary, where he reposed in security, aware, indeed, of the hostile projects of Montrose, but trusting to the wide barrier of snows and mountains which separated him from his enemy. But the royal leader penetrated through this Alpine wilderness,[b] compelled Argyle to save himself in an open boat on Loch Tyne, and during six weeks wreaked his revenge on the domains and the clansmen of the fugitive. At the approach of Argyle with eleven hundred regular troops, he retired; but suddenly turning to the left, crossed the mountains, and issuing from Glennevis, surprised his pursuers at Inverlochy in Lochabar.[c] From his galley in the Frith Argyle beheld the assault of the enemy, the shock of the combatants, and the slaughter of at least one half of his whole force.[d] This victory placed the north of Scotland at the mercy of the conquerors.

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. Oct. 28.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1644. Dec. 13.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. Jan. 28.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. Feb. 2.]

From Inverlochy they marched to Elgin, and from Elgin to Aberdeen, ravaging, as they passed, the lands, and burning the houses of the Covenanters. But at Brechin, Baillie opposed their progress with a[a] numerous and regular force. Montrose turned in the direction of Dunkeld; Baillie marched to Perth. The former surprised the opulent town of Dundee; the latter arrived in time to expel the plunderers. But[b] he pursued in vain. They regained the Grampian hills, where in security they once more bade defiance to the whole power of the enemy. Such was the short and eventful campaign of Montrose. His victories, exaggerated by report, and embellished by the fancy of the hearers, cast a faint and deceitful lustre over the declining cause of royalty. But they rendered no other service. His passage was that of a meteor, scorching every thing in its course. Wherever he appeared, he inflicted the severest injuries; but he made no permanent conquest; he taught the Covenanters to tremble at his name, but he did nothing to arrest that ruin which menaced the throne and its adherents.[1]

England, however, was the real arena on which the conflict was to be decided, and in England the king soon found himself unable to cope with his enemies. He still possessed about one-third of the kingdom. From Oxford he extended his sway almost without interruption to the extremity of Cornwall: North and South Wales, with the exception of the castles of Pembroke and Montgomery, acknowledged his authority; and the royal standard was still unfurled in several

[Footnote 1: See Rushworth, v. 928-932; vi. 228; Guthrie, 162-183; Baillie, ii. 64, 65, 92-95; Clarendon, ii. 606, 618; Wishart, 67, 110; Journals, vii. 566; Spalding, ii. 237.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. March 25.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. April 4.]

towns in the midland comities.[1] But his army, under the nominal command of the prince of Wales, and the real command of Prince Rupert, was frittered away in a multitude of petty garrisons, and languished in a state of the most alarming insubordination. The generals, divided into factions, presumed to disobey the royal orders, and refused to serve under an adversary or a rival; the officers indulged in every kind of debauchery; the privates lived at free quarters; and the royal forces made themselves more terrible to their friends by their licentiousness than to their enemies by their valour.[2] Their excesses provoked new associations in the counties of Wilts, Dorset, Devon, Somerset, and Worcester, known by the denomination of Clubmen, whose primary object was the protection of private property, and the infliction of summary vengeance on the depredators belonging to either army. These associations were encouraged and organized by the neighbouring gentlemen; arms of every description were collected for their use; and they were known to assemble in numbers of four, six, and even ten thousand men. Confidence in their own strength, and the suggestions of their leaders, taught them to extend their views; they invited the adjoining counties to follow their example, and talked of putting an end by force to the unnatural war which depopulated the country. But though they professed to observe the strictest neutrality between the contending parties, their meetings excited a well-founded jealousy

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

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, ii. 604, 633, 636, 642, 661, 668. "Good men are so scandalized at the horrid impiety of our armies, that they will not believe that God can bless any cause in such hands."--Lord Culpeper to Lord Digby. Clarendon Papers, ii. 189. Carte's Ormond, iii. 396, 399.]

on the part of the parliamentary leaders; who, the moment it could be done without danger, pronounced such associations illegal, and ordered them to be suppressed by military force.[1]

On the other side, the army of the parliament had been reformed according to the ordinance. The members of both houses had resigned their commissions, with the exception of a single individual, the very man with whom the measure had originated,--Lieutenant-General Cromwell. This by some writers has been alleged as a proof of the consummate art of that adventurer, who sought to remove out of his way the men that stood between him and the object of his ambition; but the truth is, that his continuation in the command was effected by a succession of events which he could not possibly have foreseen. He had been sent with Waller to oppose the progress of the royalists in the west; on his return he was ordered to prevent the junction of the royal cavalry with the forces under the king; and he then received a commission to protect the associated counties from insult.

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 665. Whitelock, March, 4, 11, 15. Rushw. vi. 52, 53, 61, 62. But the best account of the Clubmen is to be found in a letter from Fairfax to the committee of both kingdoms, preserved in the Journals of the Lords, vii. 184. They wore white ribbons for a distinction, prevented, as much as they were able, all hostilities between the soldiers of the opposite parties, and drew up two petitions in the same words, one to be presented to the king, the other to the parliament, praying them to conclude a peace, and in the meantime to withdraw their respective garrisons out of the country, and pledging themselves to keep possession of the several forts and castles, and not to surrender them without a joint commission from both king and parliament. Fairfax observes, that "their heads had either been in actual service in the king's army, or were known favourers of the party. In these two counties, Wilts and Dorset, they are abundantly more affected to the enemy than to the parliament. I know not what they may attempt."--Ibid. At length the two houses declared all persons associating in arms without authority, traitors to the commonwealth.--Journals, vii. 549.]

While he was employed in this service, the term appointed by the ordinance approached; but Fairfax expressed his unwillingness to part with so experienced an officer at such a crisis, and the two houses consented that he should remain forty days longer with the army. Before they expired, the great battle of Naseby had been fought: in consequence of the victory the ordinance was suspended three months in his favour; and afterwards the same indulgence was reiterated as often as it became necessary.[1]

It was evident that the army had lost nothing by the exclusion of members of parliament and the change in its organization. The commanders were selected from those who had already distinguished themselves by the splendour of their services and their devotion to the cause; the new regiments were formed of privates, who had served under Essex, Manchester, and Waller, and care was taken that the majority of both should consist of that class of religionists denominated Independents. These men were animated with an enthusiasm of which at the present day we cannot form an adequate conception. They divided their time between military duties and prayer; they sang psalms as they advanced to the charge; they called on the name of the Lord, while they were slaying their enemies. The result showed that fanaticism furnished a more powerful stimulus than loyalty; the soldiers of God proved more than a match for the soldiers of the monarch.[2]

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 27, May 10, June 16, Aug. 8. Lords' Journ. vii. 420, 535.]

[Footnote 2: Essex, Manchester, and Denbigh reluctantly tendered their resignations the day before the ordinance passed. The first died in the course of the next year (Sept. 14); and the houses, to express their respect for his memory, attended the funeral, and defrayed the expense out of the public purse.--Lords' Journals, viii. 508, 533.]

Charles was the first to take the field. He marched from Oxford at the head of ten thousand men, of whom more than one-half were cavalry; the siege of Chester[a] was raised at the sole report of his approach; and Leicester, an important post in possession of the parliament,[b] was taken by storm on the first assault. Fairfax[c] had appeared with his army before Oxford, where he expected to be admitted by a party within the walls; but the intrigue failed, and he received orders to proceed[d] in search of the king.[1] On the evening of the[e] seventh day his van overtook the rear of the royalists between Daventry and Harborough. Fairfax and his officers hailed with joy the prospect of a battle. They longed to refute the bitter taunts and sinister predictions of their opponents in the two houses; to prove that want of experience might be supplied by the union of zeal and talent; and to establish, by a victory over the king, the superiority of the Independent over the Presbyterian party. Charles, on the contrary, had sufficient reason to decline an engagement.[2] His numbers had been diminished by the necessity of leaving a strong garrison in Leicester, and several reinforcements were still on their march to join the royal standard. But in the presence of the Roundheads the Cavaliers never listened to the suggestions of prudence. Early[f] in the morning the royal army formed in line about a mile south of Harborough. Till eight they awaited with patience the expected charge of the enemy; but

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

[Footnote 2: So little did Charles anticipate the approach of the enemy, that On the 12th he amused himself with hunting, and on the 13th at supper time wrote to secretary Nicholas that he should march the next morning, and proceed through Landabay and Melton to Belvoir, but no further. Before midnight he had resolved to fight.--See his letter in Evelyn's Memoirs, ii. App. 97.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. May 7.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. May 15.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. May 31.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. June 6.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1645. June 13.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1645. June 14.]

Fairfax refused to move from his strong position near Naseby, and the king, yielding to the importunity of his officers, gave the word to advance. Prince Rupert commanded on the right. The enemy fled before him; six pieces of cannon were taken, and Ireton, the general of the parliamentary horse, was wounded, and for some time a prisoner in the hands of the victors.[1] But the lessons of experience had been thrown away upon Rupert. He urged the pursuit with his characteristic impetuosity, and, as at Marston Moor, by wandering from the field suffered the victory to be won by the masterly conduct of Oliver Cromwell.

That commander found himself opposed to a weak body of cavalry under Sir Marmaduke Langdale. By both the fight was maintained with obstinate valour; but superiority of numbers enabled the former to press on the flanks of the royalists, who began to waver, and at last turned their backs and fled. Cromwell prudently checked the pursuit, and leaving three squadrons to watch the fugitives, directed the remainder of his force against the rear of the royal infantry. That body of men, only three thousand five hundred in number, had hitherto fought with the most heroic valour, and had driven the enemy's line, with the exception of one regiment, back on the reserve; but this unexpected charge broke their spirit; they threw down their arms and asked for quarter. Charles, who had witnessed their efforts and their danger, made every exertion to support them; he collected several

[Footnote 1: Ireton was of an ancient family in Nottinghamshire, and bred to the law. He raised a troop of horse for the parliament at the beginning of the war, and accepted a captain's commission in the new-modelled army. At the request of the officers, Cromwell had been lately appointed general of the horse, and, at Cromwell's request, Ireton was made commissary-general under him.--Journals, vii. 421. Rushworth, vi. 42.]

bodies of horse; he put himself at their head; he called on them to follow him; he assured them that one more effort would secure the victory. But the appeal was made in vain. Instead of attending to his prayers and commands, they fled, and forced him to accompany them. The pursuit was continued with great slaughter almost to the walls of Leicester; and one hundred females, some of them ladies of distinguished rank, were put to the sword under the pretence that they were Irish Catholics. In this fatal battle, fought near the village of Naseby, the king lost more than three thousand men, nine thousand stand of arms, his park of artillery, the baggage of the army, and with it his own cabinet, containing private papers of the first importance. Out of these the parliament made a collection, which was published, with remarks, to prove to the nation the falsehoods of Charles, and the justice of the war.[1]

[Footnote 1: For this battle see Clarendon, ii. 655; Rushworth, vi. 42; and the Journals, vii. 433-436. May asserts that not more than three hundred men were killed on the part of the king, and only one hundred on that of the parliament. The prisoners amounted to five thousand.--May, 77. The publication of the king's papers has been severely censured by his friends, and as warmly defended by the advocates of the parliament. If their contents were of a nature to justify the conduct of the latter, I see not on what ground it could be expected that they should be suppressed. The only complaint which can reasonably be made, and which seems founded in fact, is that the selection of the papers for the press was made unfairly. The contents of the cabinet were several days in possession of the officers, and then submitted to the examination of a committee of the lower house; by whose advice certain papers were selected and sent to the Lords, with a suggestion that they should be communicated to the citizens in a common hall. But the Lords required to see the remainder; twenty-two additional papers were accordingly produced; but it was at the same time acknowledged that others were still kept back, because they had not yet been deciphered. By an order of the Commons the papers were afterwards printed with a preface contrasting certain passages in them with the king's former protestations.--Journals, June 23, 26, 30, July 3, 7; Lords', vii. 467, 469. Charles himself acknowledges that the publication, as far as it went, was genuine (Evelyn's Memoirs, App. 101); but he also maintains that other papers, which would have served to explain doubtful passages, had been purposely suppressed.--Clarendon Papers, ii. 187. See Baillie, ii. 136.]

After this disastrous battle, the campaign presented little more than the last and feeble struggles of an expiring party. Among the royalists hardly a man could be found who did not pronounce the cause to be desperate; and, if any made a show of resistance, it was more through the hope of procuring conditions for themselves, than of benefiting the interests of their sovereign. Charles himself bore his misfortunes with an air of magnanimity, which was characterized as obstinacy by the desponding minds of his followers. As a statesman he acknowledged the hopelessness of his cause; as a Christian he professed to believe that God would never allow rebellion to prosper; but, let whatever happen, he at least would act as honour and conscience called on him to act; his name should not descend to posterity as the name of a king who had abandoned the cause of God, injured the rights of his successors, and sacrificed the interests of his faithful and devoted adherents. From Leicester he retreated[a] to Hereford; from Hereford to Ragland Castle, the seat of the loyal marquess of Worcester; and thence to Cardiff, that he might more readily communicate with Prince Rupert at Bristol. Each day brought him a repetition of the most melancholy intelligence. Leicester had surrendered almost at the[b] first summons; the forces under Goring, the only body of royalists deserving the name of an army, were defeated by Fairfax at Lamport; Bridgewater, hitherto[c] deemed an impregnable fortress, capitulated after a[d]

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

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

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645 July 3.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645 June 17.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645 July 10.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1645 July 23.]

short siege; a chain of posts extending from that town to Lime, on the southern coast, cut off Devonshire and Cornwall, his principal resources, from all communication with the rest of the kingdom; and, what was still worse, the dissensions which raged among his officers and partisans in those counties could not be appeased either by the necessity of providing for the common safety, or by the presence and authority of the prince of Wales.[1] To add to his embarrassments, his three[a] fortresses in the north, Carlisle, Pontefract, and Scarborough,[b] which for eighteen months had defied all the efforts of the enemy, had now fallen, the first into the[c] hands of the Scots, the other two into those of the parliament. Under this accumulation of misfortunes many of his friends, and among them Rupert himself, hitherto the declared advocate of war, importuned him to yield to necessity, and to accept the conditions offered by the parliament. He replied that they viewed[d] the question with the eyes of mere soldiers and statesmen; but he was a king, and had duties to perform, from which no change of circumstances, no human power could absolve him,--to preserve the church, protect his friends, and transmit to his successors the lawful rights of the crown. God was bound to support his own cause: he might for a time permit rebels and traitors to prosper, but he would ultimately humble them before the throne of their sovereign.[2] Under

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 663, et seq. Rushw. vi. 50, 55, 57. Carte's Ormond, iii. 423.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, ii. 679. Lords' Journals, vii. 667. Only three days before his arrival at Oxford, he wrote (August 25) a letter to secretary Nicholas, with an order to publish its contents, that it was his fixed determination, by the grace of God, never, in any possible circumstances, to yield up the government of the church to papists, Presbyterians, or Independents, nor to injure his successors by lessening the ecclesiastical or military power bequeathed to him by his predecessors, nor to forsake the defence of his friends, who had risked their lives and fortunes in his quarrel.--Evelyn's Memoirs, ii. App. 104.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. June 28.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. July 21.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. July 25.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. July 31.]

this persuasion, he pictured to himself the wonderful things to be achieved by the gallantry of Montrose in Scotland, and looked forward with daily impatience to the arrival of an imaginary army of twenty thousand men from Ireland. But from such dreams he was soon awakened by the rapid increase of disaffection in the population around him, and by the rumoured advance of the Scots to besiege the city of Hereford. From Cardiff he hastily crossed the kingdom to Newark. Learning that the Scottish cavalry were in pursuit, he[a] left Newark, burst into the associated counties, ravaged the lands of his enemies, took the town of Huntingdon,[b] and at last reached in safety his court at Oxford.[c] It was not that in this expedition he had in view any particular object. His utmost ambition was, by wandering from place to place, to preserve himself from falling into the hands of his enemies before the winter. In that season the severity of the weather would afford him sufficient protection, and he doubted not, that against the spring the victories of Montrose, the pacification of Ireland, and the compassion of his foreign allies, would enable him to resume hostilities with a powerful army, and with more flattering prospects of success.[1]

At Oxford Charles heard of the victory gained at Kilsyth, in the neighbourhood of Stirling, by Montrose, who, if he had been compelled to retreat from Dundee, was still able to maintain the superiority in the Highlands. The first who ventured to measure[d] swords with the Scottish hero was the veteran general

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 677. Rushw. vi. 131. Carte's Ormond, iii. 415, 416, 418, 420, 423, 427. Baillie, ii, 152.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. August 21.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. August 24.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. August 28.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1645. May 5.]

Hurry: but the assailant fled from the conflict at Auldearn, and saved himself, with the small remnant of his force, within the walls of Inverness. To Hurry[a] succeeded with similar fortune Baillie, the commander-in-chief. The battle was fought at Alford, in the shire of Aberdeen; and few, besides the principal officers and the cavalry, escaped from the slaughter. A new army of ten thousand men was collected: four days were spent in fasting and prayer; and the host of God marched to trample under foot the host of the king. But the experience of their leader was controlled by the presumption of the committee of estates; and he, in submission to their orders, marshalled his men in a position near Kilsyth: his cavalry was broken by the[b] royalists at the first charge; the infantry fled without a blow, and about five thousand of the fugitives are said to have perished in the pursuit, which was continued for fourteen or twenty miles.[1] This victory placed the Lowlands at the mercy of the conqueror. Glasgow and the neighbouring shires solicited his clemency; the citizens of Edinburgh sent to him the prisoners who had been condemned for their adherence to the royal cause; and many of the nobility, hastening to his standard, accepted commissions to raise forces in the name of the sovereign. At this news the[c] Scottish cavalry, which, in accordance with the treaty of "brotherly assistance," had already advanced to Nottingham, marched back to the Tweed to protect their own country; and the king on the third day left Oxford with five thousand men, to drive the infantry

[Footnote 1: It was probably on account of the heat of the season that Montrose ordered his men to throw aside their plaids--vestes molestiores--and fight in their shirts; an order which has given occasion to several fanciful conjectures and exaggerations;--See Carte, iv. 538.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. July 2.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. August 15.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. August 26.]

from the siege of Hereford. They did not wait his arrival, and he entered the city amidst the joyful acclamations of the inhabitants.[1]

But Charles was not long suffered to enjoy his[a] triumph. Full of confidence, he had marched from Hereford to the relief of Bristol; but at Ragland Castle learned that it was already in possession of the enemy. This unexpected stroke quite unnerved him. That a prince of his family, an officer whose reputation for courage and fidelity was unblemished, should surrender in the third week of the siege an important city, which he had promised to maintain for four months, appeared to him incredible. His mind was agitated with suspicion and jealousy. He knew not whether to attribute the conduct of his nephew to cowardice, or despondency, or disaffection; but he foresaw and lamented its baneful influence on the small remnant of his followers. In the anguish of his mind[b] he revoked the commission of the prince, and commanded him to quit the kingdom; he instructed the council to watch his conduct, and on the first sign of disobedience to take him into custody; and he ordered the arrest of his friend Colonel Legge, and appointed Sir Thomas Glenham to succeed Legge, as governor of Oxford. "Tell my sone," he says in a letter to Nicholas, "that I shall lesse grieeve to hear that he is knoked in the head, than that he should doe so meane an act as is the rendering of Bristoll castell and fort upon the termes it was."[2]

[Footnote 1: Rushworth, vi. 230. May. Guthrie, 194. Baillie, ii. 156, 157, 273. This defeat perplexed the theology of that learned man. I confess I am amazed, and cannot see to my mind's satisfaction, the reasons of the Lord's dealing with that land.... What means the Lord, so far against the expectation of the most clear-sighted, to humble us so low, and by his own immediate hand, I confess I know not."--Ibid.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, ii. 693. Rushworth, vi. 66-82. Journals, vi. 584. Ellis, iii. 311. Evelyn's Memoirs, ii. App, 108. The suspicion of Legge's fidelity was infused into the royal mind by Digby. Charles wished him to be secured, but refused to believe him guilty without better proof.--Ibid, 111.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Sept. 10.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 14.]

Whilst the king thus mourned over the loss of Bristol, he received still more disastrous intelligence from Scotland. The victory of Kilsyth had dissolved the royal army. The Gordons with their followers had returned to their homes; Colkitto. had led back the Highlanders to their mountains; and with the remnants not more than six hundred repaired to the borders to await the arrival of an English force which had been promised, but not provided, by Charles. In the mean while David Leslie had been detached with four thousand cavalry from the Scottish army in England. He crossed the Tweed,[a] proceeded northward, as if he meant to interpose himself between the enemy and the Highlands; and then returned suddenly to surprise them in their encampment at Philiphaugh. Montrose spent the night at Selkirk in preparing despatches for the king; Leslie, who was concealed at no great distance, crossing the Etrick at dawn, under cover of a dense fog, charged[b] unexpectedly into the camp of the royalists, who lay in heedless security on the Haugh. Their leader, with his guard of horse, flew to their succour; but, after a chivalrous but fruitless effort was compelled to retire and abandon them to their fate. The greater part had formed themselves into a compact body, and kept the enemy at bay till their offer of surrender upon terms had been accepted. But then the ministers loudly demanded their lives; they pronounced the capitulation sinful, and therefore void; and had the satisfaction to behold the whole body of captives massacred in

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Sept. 6.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 13.]

cold blood, not the men only, but also every woman and child found upon the Haugh. Nor was this sacrifice sufficient. Forty females, who had made their escape, and had been secured by the country people, were a few days later delivered up to the victors, who, in obedience to the decision of the kirk, put them to death by throwing them from the bridge near Linlithgow into the river Avon. Afterwards the Scottish parliament approved of their barbarities, on the pretence that the victims were papists from Ireland; and passed an ordinance that the "Irische prisoners taken at and after Philiphaughe, in all the prisons in the kingdom, should be _execut_ without any assaye or processes conform to the treatey betwixt both kingdoms."[1] Of the noblemen and gentlemen who fled with Montrose, many were also taken; and of these few escaped the hands of the executioner: Montrose himself threaded back his way to the Highlands, where he once more raised the royal standard, and, with a small force and diminished reputation, continued to bid defiance to his enemies. At length, in obedience to repeated messages from the king, he dismissed his followers, and reluctantly withdrew to the continent.[2] With the defeat of Montrose at Philiphaugh vanished those brilliant hopes with which the king had consoled himself for his former losses; but the activity of his enemies allowed him no leisure to indulge his grief; they had already formed a lodgment within the

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iii. 341. Thurloe, i. 72. The next year the garrison of Dunavertie, three hundred men, surrendered to David Leslie "at the kingdom's mercie." "They put to the sword," says Turner, "everie mother's sonne except one young man, Machoul, whose life I begged."--Turner's Memoirs, 46, also 48.]

[Footnote 2: Rush. vi. 237. Guthrie, 301. Journals, vi. 584. Wishart, 203. Baillie, ii. 164.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Dec. 23.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 3.]

suburbs of Chester, and threatened to deprive him of that, the only port by which he could maintain a communication with Ireland. He hastened to its relief, and was followed at the distance of a day's journey by Pointz, a parliamentary officer. It was the king's intention[a] that two attacks, one from the city, the other from the country, should be simultaneously made on the camp of the besiegers; and with this view he left the greater part of the royal cavalry at Boutenheath, under Sir Marmaduke Langdale, while he entered Chester himself with the remainder in the dusk of the evening. It chanced that Pointz meditated a similar attempt with the aid of the besiegers, on the force under Langdale; and the singular position of the armies marked the following day with the most singular vicissitudes of fortune. Early in the morning[b] the royalists repelled the troops under Pointz; but a detachment from the camp restored the battle, and forced them to retire under the walls of the city. Here, with the help of the king's guards, they recovered the ascendancy, but suffered themselves in the pursuit to be entangled among lanes and hedges lined with infantry, by whom they were thrown into irremediable disorder. Six hundred troopers fell in the action, more than a thousand obtained quarter, and the rest were scattered in every direction. The next night Charles repaired to Denbigh, collected the fugitives around him, and, skilfully avoiding Pointz, hastened[c] to Bridgenorth, where he was met by his nephew Maurice from the garrison of Worcester.[1]

The only confidential counsellor who attended the king in this expedition was Lord Digby. That nobleman,

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 712. Thurloe, i. 3. Rush. vi. 117. Journals, vi. 608.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1645. Sept. 23.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 23.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1645. Sept. 30.]