Chapter XXIII.

Charles I. And His Government (1625-1642).

King James I. had wearied his people, who had learned to despise him. King Charles I. ascended the throne amidst the hopes of his people. He was already respected, and his subjects were disposed to have confidence in him. He immediately convoked a Parliament. When, on the 18th of June, 1625, the two Houses assembled at Westminster, Parliament, as well as the king, was as yet ignorant of the profound hostility which separated a sovereign imbued with all the notions of absolute power which had been developed half a century previously upon the Continent, and a people who, on their part, had made progress and who now claimed to take part in the affairs of the country and in their own government.

The struggle was not long in beginning. It was to the king that all the petitions and remonstrances of the House of Commons were addressed, but Parliament looked to everything and claimed to reform all abuses. The supplies necessary for sustaining the war against Spain were withheld during the examination of grievances. They had only been partially voted when the king, young and impatient, wearied by delays and complaints, pronounced the dissolution of Parliament, and had recourse to a loan to procure money.

{43}

The loan succeeded ill, and the enterprise against Cadiz, which had rendered it necessary, having miscarried, the king found himself compelled to convoke another Parliament, which it was hoped would be found more docile; but at the court of Charles, and in his closest intimacy, lived a man, the favorite of the son as well as of the father, to whom the English people attributed the dissensions which separated them from their sovereign. The Commons arrived in London, resolved to overthrow Buckingham. The king protected him and angrily rejected the accusations which were presented. Two of the commissioners entrusted with the impeachment--Sir John Eliot and Sir Dudley Digges--were placed in the Tower for insolent words. On the 15th of June, 1626, the second Parliament of the reign of Charles I. was dissolved like the first, and the monarch felt himself king.

He was resolved to govern alone, but he had no money. The war with Spain and Austria weighed heavily upon his finances. Buckingham, animated by personal spite against Cardinal Richelieu, involved his master in a struggle with France, in the interests of threatened Protestantism. It was thought that the heart of the English people would be regained, and its purse everywhere opened by announcing an expedition for the deliverance of La Rochelle, which was besieged. Buckingham himself was to command it.

Distrust was felt towards the favorite and his zeal for the Protestant cause. The new loan supplied little money; the tax called ship-money, imposed for the first time upon the ports and seaside districts, produced fewer vessels, armed and equipped, than had been hoped for, and the expedition sent to the assistance of La Rochelle failed miserably. Buckingham, who had effected a descent upon the island of Ré, was unable to take possession of it. {44} He lost many men, and returned to England after this sanguinary blow, more hated and despised than ever. "All the known or possible resources of tyranny were exhausted." The king and the favorite, haughty as they were, felt the necessity of becoming reconciled with the people. A fresh Parliament was convoked, on the advice of Buckingham, as was everywhere announced.

Parliament assembled on the 17th of March, 1628. It numbered in its midst nearly all the men who, in their counties, had resisted the royal tyranny or exactions. The language of the king, on opening the session, was haughty and threatening. He had wavered, but he desired to raise himself in his own eyes as well as those of the world by an especially regal attitude. The Houses did not trouble themselves about threats. They too were animated by a passionate and haughty resolve. Their purpose was to proclaim aloud their liberties and cause them to be recognized by the Government. The aged Coke, young Wentworth, destined shortly to serve the interests of absolute power under the name of Lord Strafford, Denzil Hollis, Pym, and many others, of different manners and sentiments, but united in the same patriotic desire, were at the head of the Parliamentary coalition. Less than two months after its assembling, on the 8th of May, 1628, the House of Commons had voted the famous political declaration known under the name of the _Petition of Right_. After some hesitation, the Upper House accepted it also. The petition was immediately presented to the king, who, after struggling in vain for several weeks, ultimately promised his assent.

[Image] Assassination Of Buckingham.

{45}

It was one of the misfortunes, perhaps the greatest misfortune of King Charles I., never to admit that a monarch owed his subjects, however refractory, truth and fidelity. He evaded replying to the Petition of Right, contenting himself with protesting his attachment to the Great Charter, and he forbade the House to meddle in future with state affairs.

The exasperation was great. Charles and Buckingham took alarm; they yielded. This Parliament which had but lately been thought of no use but to vote subsidies, was already treated with upon a footing of equality; the Petition of Right was again presented to the king, and he replied with the usual formula, always uttered in French: _Soit droit fait comme il est désiré_. But the abuses were not reformed; it was a question of applying the principles. The king collected the customs dues without the authority of Parliament. The conflict recommenced; the king wished to gain some respite without dissolving Parliament. He prorogued the Houses until the month of January, 1629. Before that period, on the 23rd of August, 1628, the Duke of Buckingham was assassinated by a disaffected officer, named Felton, and in the hat of the latter was found some writing which recalled to mind the recent remonstrance of the House. The king, indignant and disconsolate, returned noiselessly into the path of despotism which he had, for a moment, apparently forsaken. He lost a favorite odious to Parliament; he detached from the coalition of the Commons one of its boldest and most esteemed chiefs. Sir Thomas Wentworth, soon afterwards Lord Strafford, entered the council of the king, notwithstanding the entreaties of his friends. When the House again assembled, on the 20th of January, 1629, it learned that the evasive reply of the king to the Petition of Right had been affixed at the bottom of the petition. {46} The printer had received orders to modify the legal text in this manner. The commissioners of the Commons, entrusted to verify the matter, did not mention it, as though blushing to disclose such a breach of faith; but their silence did not promise oblivion.

All the attacks against the abuses still subsisting recommenced. The king, on his part, endeavored to obtain the concession of the customs dues, which he claimed in advance and for all the duration of his reign, like the majority of his predecessors. The Commons remained immovable; the voting of the supplies was the sole efficacious arm which remained to them wherewith to fight against absolute power. The king spoke of proroguing the Houses again. The Commons caused their doors to be closed in order to deliberate without restraint. As preparations were being made for breaking them open, the Council were apprised that the members had retired, after having voted that the collecting of the customs duties was illegal, and that those who should raise them, or who should merely consent to pay them, were traitors to the country. On the 16th of March, 1629, Parliament was dissolved. A few days afterwards the king published a declaration, which ended in these terms: "It is spread abroad, with evil design, that a Parliament will soon be assembled. His Majesty has well proved that he had no aversion to Parliaments, but their last excesses have determined him against his wish to change his conduct. He will in future account it presumption for any to prescribe a time for convoking a new Parliament."

The king was about to endeavor to govern alone, after having attempted in vain to govern with his Parliament.

{47}

The English people did not rise in revolt. They were exasperated and distrustful, preoccupied with the political trials which everywhere awaited the leaders of the parliamentary resistance; but nowhere did they disregard the laws. At the beginning of his exercise of absolute power, Charles I. met no obstacle on the part of his subjects. It was his friends who soon caused embarrassment to his government. The capricious frivolity of Queen Henrietta Maria, her attachment to her favorites, ambitious and frivolous like herself, the court intrigues, and the division which was becoming greater and greater between these persons absorbed in pleasures and the serious part of the nation, which was passionately devoted to the affairs of this world and those of eternal life; such were the first obstacles which King Charles encountered. He had to assist him, however, the two ministers to whom he had given his confidence, Lord Wentworth and Bishop Laud.

In forsaking the national party, to which he belonged, for hatred to Buckingham rather than from personal or fixed principles, Wentworth had embraced the royal cause with all his heart. "With an intellect too great to confine itself to domestic intrigues, and a pride too passionate to bow to the proprieties of the palace, he gave himself up enthusiastically to business, braving all rivalries as he shattered all resistance, ardent in extending and strengthening the royal authority, which had become his own, but assiduous at the same time in re-establishing order, in repressing abuses, in subjugating private interests which he deemed illegitimate, in serving the general interests which he did not fear." A friend of Wentworth, Laud, who was soon nominated Archbishop of Canterbury, had, with less worldly passions and with sincere piety, carried to the Council the same dispositions and the same designs. {48} He had less understanding than his colleague, and "pursued incessantly with an activity, indefatigable but narrow, violent, and harsh, whatever fixed idea dominated him, with all the transport of passion and the authority of duty."

Such counsels would necessarily enter before long into contention with the court. Strafford (we give him the title under which he is known in history, although he did not yet bear it) went to Ireland, where he re-established order in the country and in the finances, so that kingdom, but lately a source of great expenditure, furnished revenues to the king. Laud was commissioner of the treasury, and endeavored to apply the same rules to the resources of the royal treasury in England; but the prodigality of the queen, the somewhat disdainful generosity of the king, who easily granted pensions, and the sumptuous life of the court, exhausted the resources of the arbitrary but regular government of the two ministers. The central power was weak and impotent, foreign politics were ill-directed, and the king was little regarded upon the Continent. Barbary Corsairs ventured into the British Channel, and as far as St. George's Channel, landing, pillaging the houses, and making prisoners. The merchant navy in vain asked for protection; the royal fleet was unarmed and ill equipped. Everywhere money was wanted; recourse was had to ever-increasing exactions. Strafford convoked the Irish Parliament, and contrived to chain it to his feet like a docile slave. The king forbade him to assemble it again, for both he and the queen dreaded the mere name of Parliament. {49} There, as elsewhere, the able, skillful, and foreseeing minister suffered under the yoke of feeble incompetence. Monopolies reappeared, affecting trade in all commodities: justice was sold, and everything furnished matter for litigation, out of which there was no escape but by payment of money. Absolute government continued without power, while its mean tyranny and administrative abuses weighed upon all classes of the nation. The country gentlemen especially were incessantly a mark for the rigors of authority, and saw grow up beside them, in every village, a new power. Laud enrolled the Anglican Church in the service of his king. He thus brought him a faithful and numerous militia. Charles, sincerely pious and Protestant, notwithstanding the weaknesses charged against him with regard to the Catholics, ardently confided himself to this army which came to his assistance. The alliance between the king and the Church soon became close and irrevocable.

It was the Puritans, as the dissenting sects were then called, who bore the burden of this alliance. Laud insisted upon establishing everywhere an absolute conformity in the rites and ceremonies which he modified without scruple in the Roman Catholic spirit. Everywhere where the conscience of the Anglican ministers was opposed to these innovations, they were dismissed from their livings. The churches which they went forth to found in France, Holland, and Germany, did not even secure to them the liberty of their faith. Laud claimed to extend his jurisdiction upon the Continent, and pursued them with his tyranny upon the foreign soil on which they sought to establish themselves.

{50}

The numerous refugees who were driven from their country by religious persecution, and who had obtained charters for the free exercise of their national worship in England, found these charters abolished. Absolute conformity with the Anglican rite was required by the Archbishop, supported by the royal power. Imprisonment and exile overtook the delinquents on all hands.

The anger and terror of the English people were becoming great. The Reformation had been, in England, of a double nature. Interested and worldly on the part of the king and the great noblemen, it had been earnest, sincere, profound, among the nation properly so called, and it had always leaned to the side of the Puritans. The novelties introduced by Laud into the worship agitated minds and consciences alike. The Catholics rejoiced, and the Pope thought himself in a position to cause a Cardinal's hat to be offered to the Archbishop; but the latter only wished to secure the supremacy of the Anglican Church and of the bishops in the Anglican Church. When he caused the office of high treasurer to be given to Juxon, Bishop of London, Laud exclaimed in excess of his joy, "Now that the Church subsists and supports itself unassisted, all is consummated; I can no more."

He had done enough, for he had brought the Anglican Church to the brink of the abyss, and had prepared for it grievous trials.

For some time disaffection had been increased among all classes of society. The weakness and incapacity of the government in general, notwithstanding the efforts of Strafford and Laud, the pecuniary exactions and religious tyranny attacked and exasperated all citizens; numerous emigrations had begun; men passionately attached to their faith went to seek upon the Continent, and even in America, the liberty of worship which was refused to them in their own country. {51} Obscure and unknown sectaries had been the first to adopt the refuge of exile; by degrees men of greater consideration followed their example. When an order of the royal council forbade emigration, a ship anchored in the Thames already bore the future heroes of the revolution of England, ready to expatriate themselves in order to escape an odious government. It was the hand of the king himself which retained in England Pym, Haslerig, Hampden, and Oliver Cromwell.

The wrath of the people did not yet burst forth, but it began to be heard in suppressed tones; the assemblages of nonconformists increased everywhere under different names. The Independents or Brownists were the most numerous of those who separated themselves openly from the Anglican Church, and all the vigilance of Laud did not suffice to disperse the faithful, nor his severity to punish them. Numerous pamphlets circulated among the people of an insolent and vigorous kind. They were bought eagerly, and the rigors of the star chamber did not succeed in arresting the smugglers who brought them from Holland, and the pedlars who spread them throughout the country. It was resolved to make a great example; a lawyer, a theologian, and a physician, Prynne, Burton, and Bastwick, were arrested at the same time, and, after an iniquitous trial, were condemned to the pillory, to lose their ears, and to pay an enormous fine. Their imprisonment was to be for life.

{52}

The populace of London thronged around the pillory, when the three condemned men, pale and bleeding, were fixed there. Their courage did not falter for a moment, and their sufferings served their cause better than all their writings. A libeller by profession, John Lilburne, condemned to a punishment of the same kind, received at the hands of the nation the same impassioned, albeit still silent sympathy. The whole country was moved, but it awaited a chief who should give the signal of legal resistance--a name around which the scattered forces might range themselves. It was for John Hampden that this honor was reserved.

Grave and irreproachable in conduct, Hampden was also a man of substance. He lived peacefully in Buckinghamshire, esteemed and honored by all. He was known to be adverse to the government, but not violently so, and when, in 1636, the king was desirous of collecting ship-money, which was illegal without the authorization of Parliament, Hampden was rated at twenty shillings only. He refused to pay, being determined to carry the question personally before the courts. The trial was conducted with moderation on the part of the accused as well as on that of the counsel and judges. No insult to the government, no violence towards Hampden, but justice was deaf to legal argument, and Hampden was condemned. The court congratulated itself upon the judgment which gave a sanction to arbitrary power. It did not foresee that the name of Hampden was about to serve as a rallying-point to all malcontents and all conspiracies. The party of resistance now began its existence.

{53}

The outburst came sooner and with more violence in Scotland. King James had succeeded in founding the episcopate there against the wish and notwithstanding the traditional habits of the people, passionately attached to the Presbyterian system; but the new bishops had been prudent and had attempted nothing, either against the clergy whom the people loved, or against the worship to which they were accustomed. Charles I. and Laud were more bold. By degrees the bishops had raised their heads; secure of being acknowledged and supported, they had become imbued with the doctrine of the divine right of the episcopate, and had taken a place in political councils. The Archbishop of St. Andrew's was chancellor of Scotland, the Bishop of Ross was about to become treasurer, nine bishops sat in the privy council. On the 23d of July, 1637, the Anglican litany was suddenly put in force in the cathedral at Edinburgh.

When the astonished people heard these accents, which were strange to their ears and which they regarded as savoring of Popery, a profound emotion took possession spontaneously of the whole assembly. An old woman threw her footstool at the head of the officiating clergyman; sedition sprang up in the streets. Repression did not calm the agitation. From Edinburgh it spread into all the counties of Scotland. Every day the privy council and the municipal council were besieged by a numerous, earnest, and ardent mob; by gentlemen, farmers, townsmen, artisans, peasants, who complained of the innovations introduced into their worship. Upon being ordered to retire, they gave way without violence, but the petitioners came back in greater numbers on the morrow. Everywhere resistance was being organized, and when a royal order was at length promulgated, prohibiting any assemblage under pain of treason, the Lords Hume and Lindsay, both peers of the Realm, following in the steps of the herald who read the royal proclamation, caused to be affixed to the walls a protest which they had signed in the name of their fellow-citizens. {54} The same care was taken in all places in which the king's proclamation was made public. Six weeks after the imprudent and arbitrary act of Charles, the whole of Scotland was confederated under a solemn pledge called the "Covenant," a profession of religious faith, and a national protest against the new liturgy which the Government wished to impose upon the public. The king and Laud had roused the Scottish nation to rebellion against them.

Charles was both astonished and indignant. Imbued with all the principles which flourished on the Continent respecting the royal dignity and authority, he looked upon resistance as a crime of the lower classes, and marvelled to see noblemen and gentlemen united in the same feeling and serving the same cause. He immediately resolved to have recourse to force in order to chastise the rebels, but he required time to raise an army. The Marquis of Hamilton, despatched into Scotland to negotiate with the Covenanters, promised all that was desired, and authorized the assembling of a general synod, wherein all the controverted questions might be discussed. The assembly met at Glasgow; but the Scots, distrusting with good cause so much condescension, soon perceived that Hamilton was merely endeavoring to delay matters. At the moment when the synod was preparing to accuse the bishops, the marquis suddenly declared its dissolution. At the same time it learned that war was imminent, and that a body of troops raised in Ireland by Strafford was about to land in Scotland. The king was preparing to chastise his rebellious subjects, and Hamilton returned precipitately to London, while the synod, without troubling itself about its dissolution, continued its deliberations and abolished the episcopate.

{55}

The Scottish Covenanters did not confine themselves to mere words or even to serious and impassioned utterances. They raised troops. The Scots who were serving upon the Continent and one of their best officers, Alexander Lesley, formerly in the service of Gustavus Adolphus, were induced to come over and defend their country. The Scottish people addressed to the English, their brothers, a declaration intended to expound their grievances. Before the common beliefs and opinions which now united the two peoples the old national hatred disappeared. When the king arrived at York with all his court, and his general, the Earl of Essex, entered Scotland, the two armies communicated with each other fraternally. The soldiers were more disposed to embrace than to fight. The royal troops did not begin the struggle. Lord Holland, who commanded the first corps, fell back without a struggle. Negotiations were soon resorted to, and peace was concluded at Berwick on the 18th of June, 1639, without a musket having been fired. The disbanding of the two armies was resolved upon, as well as the convocation of a synod and a Scottish Parliament; but the treaty did not affect the root of the difficulties, and the situation remained the same. It was a suspension of arms, not a peace.

Both parties felt this. The Scots disbanded their troops, but maintained the staff officers. Charles summoned Lord Strafford from Ireland to his assistance; this was announcing a predetermination to abandon a conciliatory policy. "It is necessary," said the earl, "to bring back all these people to their senses with the lash." {56} The conditions of peace with the Scots, ill-defined and scarcely reduced to writing, gave occasion to interminable discussions. Parliament and the synod assembled at Edinburgh, raised every day fresh pretensions. War was resolved upon in the royal council, but a pretext was necessary. A letter, addressed by the Scottish chiefs to Louis XIII., with the simple title, _To the King_, fell into the hands of Strafford. The support of the foreign monarch was being invoked. Charles I., indignant himself, thought that his indignation would be shared by all his people. He needed money wherewith to fight the Scots; his coffers were empty, and he had exhausted every means, legal and otherwise, of obtaining resources. He determined upon his course, and convoked a Parliament.

Great was the astonishment in England. Time had calmed public excitement. The king, in his own person, had governed ill, but people remembered the impediments which the last Parliament had placed in the way of the royal administration; they desired more prudence and moderation in the newly-elected members. The former leaders of the liberal party re-entered the House; but they found themselves surrounded by a sensible and moderate knot of men, resolved to abolish abuses without violence and without insult. They desired neither to alienate the king nor to trouble the repose of the country. Charles himself was animated by the same spirit towards Parliament.

{57}

The power of circumstances easily triumphs over good intentions. Upon the reading of the letter of the Scots to the King of France the House remained cold; and thus the arm upon which the king had reckoned failed him when within his grasp. Charles had decided for war, and demanded supplies, but the House was resolved to cause the redress of grievances to be passed before voting the taxes. Parleyings were again of no avail; the king began to grow angry; Parliament was still calm, hurrying on its discussion, but without departing from its pacific resolutions. At length the king caused the House to be informed that if they would vote twelve subsidies, payable in three years, he would abandon the system of demanding ship-money without the approbation of Parliament. The sum was enormous, they became alarmed and angry, but the House would not sever their connection with the king. They were about to proceed to the voting of some subsidies without fixing the amounts, when Sir Henry Vane, a favorite of Queen Henrietta Maria, who had been raised against the wish of Strafford to the post of secretary of state, rose from his seat, and announced that, without adopting the entire message, the vote was useless; for the king would not accept a reduction of his demands. The anger and amazement of the Commons were at their height, when, on the morrow, at the moment of opening the sitting, the king caused them to be summoned to the Upper House, and announced the dissolution of Parliament; it was on the 5th of May, 1640; the Houses had assembled on the 13th of April.

Strafford had succeeded better than his master; he had obtained from the Irish Parliament all that he had demanded, and the voluntary subscriptions which he instigated, brought to the royal treasury nearly three hundred thousand pounds sterling. Vexations of all kinds resumed their course; the policy was to get money at all costs. {58} Strafford impelled the king towards despotism; it was necessary either to conquer or die. Twice the earl fell seriously ill; but he raised himself from his bed when scarcely recovered, and set out with the king for the army of Scotland, which he was to command.

The Scots did not wait for his arrival. They entered England, and defeated at Newburne the first English army which they encountered. It was an easy matter; the war was still less popular among the English people than it was with Parliament, and the secret negotiations between the Scottish generals and the chiefs of the malcontents in England were re-echoed among the soldiers. When Strafford assumed the command of the army, he found it undisciplined and disaffected. The two camps confronting each other were really animated by the same feelings as well as the same beliefs. An action took place upon the banks of the Tyne, insignificant in itself, but the Scots crossed the river, and Strafford was compelled to fall back upon York, leaving the enemy masters of the north of England. The anger of the king was powerless in presence of the popular passion. All the authority and ardor of the general could not make the soldiers fight against those whom they called their brothers, and Charles felt a dread of the energy of Strafford's policy. The negotiations between the two armies continued without regard to the king and notwithstanding the protestations of loyalty of the Scots. The cry of _peace_ began to be associated with the word _Parliament_.

{59}

The king dreaded Parliaments. He endeavored to escape from the dilemma by convoking at York the great council of the peers of the realm, a feudal assembly, fallen into disuse for four centuries past. The peers had not yet assembled when two petitions, one from the City of London and the other signed by twelve of the most powerful noblemen, formally demanded the convocation of a real Parliament. The king no longer resisted. The great council of the peers nominated a commission entrusted to negotiate with the Scots. As a preliminary, it was decided that the two armies should remain on foot, both to be paid by the king. It was found necessary to provide for this expense by a loan, and the signatures of the sixteen commissioners were added to that of the king to guarantee the objects for which it was to be raised. Charles departed for London, weary and sad. The whole of England was ardently engaged in the elections, of which the importance was felt. Everywhere the candidates of the court were rejected. The assembling of the new Parliament was fixed for the 3d of November, a fatal date, it was said, for Laud. The Parliament assembled upon the same day under Henry VIII. had begun by overthrowing Wolsey, and had ended with the destruction of the abbeys. Laud refused to alter the date of the convocation. He was, like his master, weary of the struggle, and he abandoned himself, without further resistance, to the chances of a future as yet veiled in obscurity.

Parliament was opened, and scarcely had the king quitted Westminster when his friends--small in number among the Commons--were enabled to assure themselves that the public wrath was greater still than had been foreseen. The dissolution of the last Parliament had caused the cup to overflow. Charles, imbued with haughty ideas of absolute power, had desired to govern alone. In principle Parliament did not claim sovereignty, but it felt its strength, and was resolved to exert it. The monarch was foredoomed to defeat.

{60}

The session began with a long and complete enumeration of grievances. The abuses of tyranny were numerous, and all were brought to light. Monopolies, ship-money, arbitrary arrests, venality of justice, exactions of the bishops, the proceedings of the courts of exception--nothing was spared. Before considering the redress of wrongs, it was voted that the complaints were legitimate; they rained down from all quarters, and more than forty committees spent many days in receiving the petitions which came from the counties. Everywhere lists were drawn up of "delinquents," a name which was given to the agents of the crown who had taken part in the execution of the measures complained of. Before any resolution was made against these numerous guilty persons, they found themselves suddenly in danger of being summoned before the House, and condemned to a fine, imprisonment, or confiscation. All the servants of the king were thus placed at the mercy of their enemies. Once inscribed upon the list of "delinquents," no man could enjoy an instant's repose.

The explosion of the new power was sudden and terrible. Strafford had foreseen it. He begged the king to absolve him from appearing before Parliament. "I cannot," Charles answered him, "do without your counsels here. As truly as I am king of England, you incur no danger; they shall not touch a hair of your head." Strafford was not reassured. He set out, however, still bold and resolved to strike the first blow. He was not allowed time to do so: on the 9th of November he arrived in London ill; on the 11th, upon the motion of Pym, the House of Commons charged him with high treason. {61} "The least delay may ruin all," the latter said. "If the earl has communication but once with the king, Parliament will be dissolved; besides, the House only impeaches, and will not judge." Strafford arrived at this moment in the House of Lords, but his impeachment had preceded him there. The door was closed; the earl caused it to be opened, and he was entering the House when his colleagues called out to him to withdraw. He stopped, looked around him, and obeyed after a few seconds' hesitation. Being recalled an hour afterwards, he was enjoined to kneel at the bar. There he learned that the House had admitted the impeachment of the Commons. On the same evening he was conducted to the Tower, whither Laud was conveyed not many days afterwards.

Some other important personages were accused with Strafford; but it was upon the latter that there was concentrated the vengeance of the triumphant party. Scotland and Ireland united themselves with England to overwhelm him with the proofs of his arbitrary rule. For nothing less than this league of three nations against the imprisoned minister could satisfy the feeling of hatred and apprehension among the people.

The House of Commons was henceforth master of the Government; commissioners taken from its midst alone had the right of administering the supplies which it voted, and the loans which it decreed in its own name. Political reforms, important and radical, succeeded each other almost without discussion, upon a simple exposition of grievances. The courts of exception were all abolished, and triennial Parliaments were voted. If the king failed in this duty, twelve peers of the kingdom assembled at Westminster were empowered to summon the Houses without his concurrence. {62} Parliament could not be dissolved or adjourned without the approbation of the two Houses, at least for fifty years after its assembling. The king accepted the bill with ill-humor; but he attempted no resistance. He hoped, and he had some reason for hoping, for divisions among his enemies.

There was agreement upon political questions. Hampden, Pym, Hollis, Stapleton, moderate leaders of the Commons, were followed by Cromwell and Henry Martin, more violent, but as yet obscure. The divergences of feeling were made manifest when religious ground was touched. The question of the episcopacy, passionately attacked by the numerous Presbyterians in the House, was not yet resolved upon, and among the nation opinions were as various and conflicting as in the House. The friends of the king advised him to attach himself to the more moderate of the political chiefs, and to take advantage of the religious discussions which occupied the party. Secret negotiations were opened up; but, at the same time, through the intercession of the queen, Charles received proposals from a number of officers of the army, dissatisfied with the favor which Parliament manifested towards the Scots. Various advices, all menacing for the House, were discussed without any great effect and without any efficacious remedy. The king listened to all and often accorded his approbation. He even consented to affix the initial of his name to the petition which the army was to deposit upon the table of the Houses. The petition was not presented; but the chiefs of the popular party were apprised of it. Silently and without breaking off their negotiations with the king, they resolutely adopted a determination to unite themselves with the fanatical Presbyterians, and to ruin Strafford. The trial of the earl began.

{63}

The Commons of England were the prosecutors, supported by the commissioners of Scotland and Ireland. Eighty peers were present as judges. The bishops, yielding to the desire of the Commons, excused themselves against their wish. The king and queen were there, "in a closed gallery, eager to see all, but concealing, the one his anguish, the other her curiosity." The crowd of spectators was immense.

The accused arrived without suffering any insult from the multitude. "As he passed, his frame prematurely bent slightly by sickness, but with the proud and brilliant look that had distinguished his youth, all raised their hats, and he bowed courteously, looking upon this attitude of the people as of good augury." He was full of hope and did not doubt the happy issue of his trial. He was soon undeceived.

For seventeen days he sustained his cause without aid against thirteen accusers. The most odious impediments embarrassed his defense; but the earl manifested neither bitterness nor anger. He simply claimed his right, thanking his judges if they consented to recognize it, forbearing from complaining of their refusal, and replying to his enemies that they were provoked to anger by the delay arising from his skillful resistance. "It is as much my business, I think, to defend my life, as for any other to attack it." The Commons trembled with rage, for Strafford was gaining the ascendancy. The examination into the facts cleared the earl of the charge of high treason. The text of the law, and the steadfast ability of the accused had triumphed over all the obstacles opposed to the defense. {64} Sir Arthur Haslerig proposed to declare Strafford guilty by an act of Parliament, and to condemn him by a bill of attainder. This proceeding was more violent and arbitrary than the greater number of the acts with which Strafford was so loudly reproached; but passion easily blinds even the most sincere. The bill, resting upon certain notes of Strafford delivered by the son of Sir Henry Vane, at once obtained a first reading. This time, Strafford was accused of having advised the king to make use of the army of Ireland to subjugate England. "Some thought they sacrificed law to justice, others, justice to necessity."

The regular trial meanwhile continued. Before his counsel began to speak to the question of right, Strafford summed up his defense himself with admirable eloquence. "My Lords," he said in conclusion, "your ancestors have carefully bound with the chains of our statute law, these terrible accusations of high treason; do not be ambitious of being more learned in the art of killing than our fore-fathers. Let us not awaken those sleeping lions to our destruction, by raking up a few musty records that have lain by the walls so many ages forgotten or neglected. I have troubled you, my Lords, longer than I should have done; were it not for the interest of those pledges that a saint in heaven left me ... (at these words he stopped, burst into tears, and immediately raising his head, continued) I would not give myself so much trouble to defend this body already falling into decay, and burdened with so many infirmities, that of a truth I have little pleasure in bearing the burden of it any longer ... (he stopped, as if in search of an idea): My Lords (he resumed), you will pardon my infirmity of weeping, I should have added, but am not able, therefore let it pass. And so, my Lords, even so, with all tranquillity of mind, I freely submit myself to your judgment, and whether that judgment be of life or death, _Te Deum laudamus_."

{65}

Compassion and admiration moved the most implacable enemies of the earl. Pym, in agitation, sought in vain for the paper upon which he had written his reply. None gave ear to him, and the accuser hastened to conclude his speech, vexed and confused by his involuntary emotion.

It was necessary at all cost to come to an end with an enemy so able and powerful, even when a prisoner--such was the force of his courage and eloquence. The second reading of the bill of attainder was hastened on; the most able and distinguished lawyers contended against it; the infuriated Commons desired to prevent the Lords from listening to the advocates of Strafford. The Lords resisted, and heard the pleadings, but the Lower House did not present itself, but four days subsequently, on the 21st of April, 1641, the bill was definitively passed. Fifty-nine members alone voted against it.

The king was disconsolate and profoundly anxious. He had himself exposed Strafford to this danger. "Be assured," he wrote to him, "upon my word as a king, that you shall suffer nothing, either in your life, or your fortune, or your honor." Negotiations and conspiracies were tried alternately, or at one and the same time. Attempts were on foot to pacify the chiefs of the Commons, or to obtain in the House of Lords a majority in favor of the earl. Enormous offers were made to the Governor of the Tower, Sir William Balfour, to allow the prisoner's escape. All collapsed in the face of official fidelity and popular passion. {66} The king at length caused the two Houses to be summoned, and admitting the faults of the earl, promised that he would never employ him, even in the humblest office. He declared, however, that never would any reason, or any threat, make him consent to his death.

Charles presumed too much upon his courage. He did not yet know how completely the hatred of the Commons against Strafford was under the control of courage and ability. Popular violence was added to Parliamentary prosecutions. The Upper House, to which the bill of attainder had been carried, was besieged every day by a furious multitude, crying, "Justice! justice!" The Lords were insulted and summoned to declare themselves. Pym had for a long while held in reserve what he knew of the manœuvres of the court and the officers, to excite the army against Parliament; he published an account of this matter. Some of the accused persons fled, and terror spread in the House as well as among the people. It was decreed that all the ports should be closed, and that all letters coming from abroad should be opened. In remembrance of the conspiracy of Guy Fawkes, a rumor was circulated that the House was undermined, and the people hastened to Parliament to ascertain or to share its dangers. Meanwhile the two Houses united themselves by a vow for the defence of the Protestant religion and the public liberties. It was even attempted to impose the same pledge upon all citizens. In vain the Lords struggled against the rising tide; they endeavored to modify the bill of attainder. This the Commons refused; they were determined to obtain their complete vengeance. The Upper House yielded. Thirty-four of the Lords who had been present at the trial absented themselves; twenty-six voted for the bill, fourteen against; nothing was now wanting but the acquiescence of the king.

{67}

Charles still resisted. His affection and his honor were equally shocked. Hollis, brother-in-law of Strafford, advised the king to go himself and present to the Houses the petition of the earl, demanding a respite. He promised to induce his friends in the House to content themselves with banishment; but the queen beset him with her apprehensions. She did not like Strafford; she was terrified by the riots; she wished to fly, to embark, and return to France. The king listened, troubled and undecided. He convoked the privy council, then the bishops. Juxon alone advised him to follow his conscience; all the others persisted that Charles should sacrifice an individual to a throne; his conscience as a man to his conscience as a king. The Earl of Essex had said shortly before, "The king is obliged to conform both in regard to his person and his conscience to the advice and conscience of Parliament." His servants were repeating to him under another form this harsh truth, when Charles received a letter from Strafford himself. "Sire," wrote the Earl, "after a long and hard struggle, I have taken the only resolution which becomes me. Every private interest should give way to the prosperity of your sacred person and of the commonwealth. In passing this bill I beseech you to remove the obstacle to a blessed agreement between you and your subjects. Sir, my consent shall more acquit you herein to God than all the world can do besides. To a willing man there is no injury done, and as by God's grace I forgive all the world with a calmness and meekness of infinite contentment to my dislodging soul, that in your goodness you would vouchsafe to cast your gracious regard upon my poor son and his three sisters less or more, and no otherwise than as their (in present) unfortunate father may hereafter appear more or less guilty of this death."

{68}

On the morrow Strafford learnt in his prison that the king had given his assent to the fatal bill. He did not reply, but raising his hands toward heaven muttered this passage of the Psalm: "Put not your trust in princes nor in the sons of men, for in them there is no salvation."

It was on the 10th of May. On the morrow, the 11th, the Prince of Wales presented himself before Parliament with a letter from the king ending with these words: "If he must die it were charity to reprieve him till Saturday." Without taking heed of this last and miserable effort of Charles in favor of his great servant, the House appointed the morrow for the execution.

Strafford issued forth on foot from his prison, outstripping the guards as though he were marching at the head of his army: He declined the coach which the Governor of the Tower offered him, being afraid of the violence of the people. "No, Master Lieutenant," he said, "I dare look death in the face, and I hope the people too. I care not how I die, whether by the hand of the executioner or by the madness and fury of the people. If that may give them better content it is all one to me." Having arrived before the window of Laud's prison, he stopped. The old archbishop, informed on the previous evening of what was about to happen, stretched out his arms to bless the condemned man; but, agitated and enfeebled, he swooned and fell. "Farewell, my lord," said Strafford, as he went away, "God protect your innocence." {69} He knelt upon the scaffold; then, raising himself, he addressed the immense crowd which surrounded him. "I wish," he said, "to this kingdom all the prosperity on earth; alive, I have always done so; dying, it is my only wish. But I implore each of those who listen to me to consider earnestly, with his hand upon his heart, whether the beginning of the reformation of a kingdom should be written in characters of blood. Think of it in returning to your homes. God forbid that the least drop of my blood fall upon any of you! But I fear that you are in a bad way." He knelt again, then shook hands with the friends who accompanied him. "I have nigh done," he said, "one stroke will make my wife husbandless, my dear children fatherless, and my poor servants masterless. But let God be to them all in all." He prepared himself to receive the fatal blow. "I thank God," he continued, "I am no more afraid of death, nor daunted with any discouragement arising from any fears, but do as cheerfully put off my doublet at this time as ever I did when I went to bed." He called to the executioner and gave the signal. "God save the king," exclaimed the executioner, showing the head to the people. Shouts of triumph answered him; but some were silent, and many people returned to their houses sad, uneasy, and almost doubting the justice of the act which they had so ardently desired.

The feeble policy of the king had missed its mark, as a policy of that kind always does. The death of Strafford had not removed the obstacle in the way of a reconciliation between the king and his subjects. In accepting the bill which struck down the most illustrious of his servants, Charles had at the same time, and almost without taking heed of the step he was taking, sanctioned a bill which prohibited any dissolution of Parliament without the approbation of the two Houses. {70} But a mutual understanding, far from being re-established, became every day less possible between the king and the people. The power which the Commons had wrested piece by piece from the sovereign appeared to impel them more and more towards tyranny. Political reform was accomplished, but religious reform remained to be effected. Notwithstanding the moral enfeeblement of the Anglican Church, it retained its position. It was henceforth against this object that the confused and often antagonistic efforts of a great number of the chiefs of the Commons and the people were directed; but on the religious question their union was not so complete as when they stood on purely political ground, and the bold innovators were uneasy in the very midst of their success.

Charles suddenly announced an intention of setting out for Scotland, where his presence had, he said, become necessary for the execution of the treaty of peace. At the same time the queen prepared to make a journey to the Continent. The House took alarm; they dreaded the passing of the king through the army, which was being disbanded and was known to be disaffected; they feared the secret manœuvres of the queen among the absolute sovereigns. They asked Charles to delay his departure; they implored the queen to remain in England: both consented. The disbanding of the army was in vain hurried on by promising the soldiers the arrears of their pay. Money was borrowed, plate was melted down to meet this enormous expenditure. {71} The operation was not completed when the king at length departed on the 10th of August. The House adjourned on the 27th. A committee, at the head of which was Hampden, was sent to Scotland to remain with the king, in order to watch over the interests of Parliament.

This measure was prudent and effective. Charles passed through the English and Scottish armies without daring to stay long; but his attempts to influence the officers meanwhile engaged the attention of Lord Holland, who was entrusted with the disbandment. He wrote on this matter with uneasiness to the Earl of Essex in London. On arriving in Edinburgh the king accorded to the Parliament and Church of Scotland all the religious and political concessions which they demanded. He attended the Presbyterian worship with a pious gravity which touched the Scots. He appeared to have regained in favor and confidence that ancient kingdom of his fathers, which had formerly risen in its entirety against the tyranny which attempted to interfere with its faith. The chiefs of the Covenanters themselves were received with eager good grace. Distrustful people in Scotland, anxious lookers-on in England, in vain endeavored to penetrate the mystery of this conduct.

Suddenly it became known that the two most influential of the great lords in the Scottish Parliament, Hamilton and Argyll, had left Edinburgh with their friends, and retired into the country to escape the danger of arrest. The king loudly complained of the conjectures which were in circulation; Parliament ordered an inquiry. The proceedings were in secret; the committee declared, without any particulars, that there was no claim on the side of the king for any reparation nor ground for any alarm on the part of the fugitives. The latter resumed their seats in Parliament, and the public knew nothing of what had happened.

{72}

Nothing was known, but the object of the journey of Charles to Scotland had failed. He had thought of collecting upon the spot such proofs of the correspondence of the English malcontents with the Covenanter chiefs of Scotland that the judges could not help declaring guilty of high treason those leaders of the Commons who had caused, by their intrigues, the invasion of their country. He intended to hurl against them the accusation which Strafford had not had time to prepare. The hopes of the king were sustained by his correspondence with a young and impetuous nobleman, the Earl of Montrose, formerly attached to the Covenant, but who had now given himself up body and soul to the royal cause. In Scotland the king had found Montrose in prison, suspected by Argyll; but the prison bolts were drawn now and then. Montrose had come by night to see Charles; he had inspired him with some uneasiness concerning Hamilton and Argyll, asserting that their papers would furnish the proofs which the king sought. The arrest of the two noblemen was agreed upon, when the latter frustrated the scheme by publicly quitting Parliament and the city. Far from ridding himself of them, Charles was compelled to load his enemies with favors: Hamilton was made a duke, Argyll a marquis, Lesley, the general of the Scottish troops, became Earl of Leven. But these indications did not deceive Hampden; he knew all, and informed his London friends of the fact. The period of adjournment of the Houses was drawing to an end.

{73}

Great was the terror among the Parliamentary leaders when the proof was forthcoming of the vindictive rancor of the king. They consulted with uneasiness upon the conduct to be observed. The Scottish Parliament had wisely suppressed the affair. The English Parliament could not make use of it to agitate the people. Ireland undertook this task.

On the 1st of November, 1641, it was suddenly learned that an immense insurrection had broken out in Ireland, threatening the most imminent danger to the Protestant religion and the Protestants of the country. The Catholics had everywhere risen, chiefs and people, claiming the liberty of their faith, vaunting the name of the queen and even of the king, setting up a commission signed, it was said, by the latter, and announcing the design of delivering Ireland and the throne from the tyranny of the English Puritans. On the very eve of the day on which the conspiracy was to break out it was accidentally discovered and quelled in Dublin. Throughout the country it had met with no obstacle. Murders, fires, horrible and nameless crimes, it is said, were rife throughout Ireland. Everywhere Protestants were massacred without resistance. The Government, disarmed by Strafford and the crown, was powerless before a half-savage people eager to avenge in one day centuries of outrage and misfortune. The Earl of Leicester, nominated viceroy in place of Strafford, had not yet arrived. To oppose so terrible a storm the English Government had in Ireland only two judges of no ability, of no credit, whose Presbyterian zeal alone had caused them to be invested with that difficult employment.

{74}

England uttered a prolonged cry of terror and rage; every Protestant considered himself attacked in common with his brothers of Ireland. The king, who was a stranger to the insurrection, hastened to communicate to Parliament the news which had reached him in Scotland, placing the affair in the hands of the Commons and entrusting them with the repression, partly to rid himself of all complicity, partly to avoid in the eyes of his Catholic subjects, whom he had not encouraged, but whom he was in no hurry to restrain, the responsibility for the severities to which they might be compelled to submit.

The leaders of the Commons were not much more eager than the king to stamp out the Irish insurrection. It furnished them with the popular agitation and general uneasiness of which they stood in need in order to continue their work. They eagerly took possession of the power which the king offered them; but their efforts against the Irish insurgents were more ostentatious than sincere, and more noisy than efficacious. The Protestants of Ireland were left in the hands of their enemies. All speeches and acts were directed towards England; the moment for striking the great blow had come.

Shortly after the opening of Parliament, in the month of November, 1640, a committee was chosen to prepare, with an exposition of grievances, a solemn remonstrance to the king; but political reforms had been so rapid, and the king had so completely given way before the growing power of Parliament, that the majority of the grievances had in reality disappeared, when, on the morrow of the insurrection of Ireland, amidst the popular excitement, the committee received orders to resume and complete its work without delay. {75} The remonstrance but lately intended for the king became a sombre exposition addressed to the people, retracing all the past evils, and all those which yet subsisted, the wrong-doings of the king, the virtues of Parliament, and the dangers which faith and liberty incurred as long as the nation should not be unreservedly devoted to the House of Commons, which was alone capable of saving them from Popery, the bishops, and the king.

So much violence, without fresh pretexts, or any direct or apparent aim, raised numerous murmurs. The ever-growing pretensions of Parliament began to create, even in its midst, a party of resistance, favorable, in a certain measure, to the threatened royal power. The popular chiefs endeavored to quiet the distrust and exasperation, asserting that they only wished to intimidate the court and to thwart its intrigues, and that the remonstrance being once adopted it would not be promulgated. They asked for the vote towards the end of a sitting, at the moment when the House, being fatigued, was thinking of separating. Lord Falkland, Hyde, Colepepper--the friends of the king, as they were called--demanded that there should be a postponement until the morrow. "Why," said Cromwell to Falkland, "do you so greatly desire this delay?" "Because it is too late to-day, and because there will certainly be a debate." "A light debate," replied Cromwell impassively. The discussion began on the morrow; sides were taken. For the first time two national parties were at contention. It was no longer the court and the country; the good citizens were divided; both sides found support in public interests and opinions. There were discussions; there was vehement speaking. Hour after hour passed by; the sitting had opened at three o'clock; it was midnight. {76} The delicate or ailing members, and the old men had all retired. "This," said Sir Benjamin Rudyard, "will be the verdict of a famished jury." When the vote was taken, a hundred and fifty-nine members adopted the remonstrance, against a hundred and forty-eight who voted against it.

The result had scarcely been announced when Hampden rose and demanded that the remonstrance should be printed. "We said so," it was exclaimed on the other side, "you wish to take from the Lords their legitimate share of authority; you desire to walk alone and arouse the people to insurrection." "I protest, I protest," exclaimed Mr. Palmer, and his friends followed his example. Protests were usual in the House of Lords; they were not in the Commons. Indignation was felt at this new proceeding, and the disturbance increased; several members had already placed their hands upon their swords. Hampden addressed the House, deploring the sad disorder, and proposing to adjourn the discussion to the morrow. This was agreed to. "Well," said Lord Falkland to Cromwell, on leaving, "has it been debated?" "I will take your word another time," replied Cromwell, and he added in a lower tone: "If the remonstrance had been rejected, I would have sold all I have the next morning, and never would have seen England more, and I know there are many honest men of the same resolution." The printing of the remonstrance was voted on the morrow without any disturbance, almost without discussion, by a majority of twenty-three. The return of the king, to whom it was first to be presented, was the only event waited for in order to publish it.

{77}

He arrived, and was magnificently received by the city of London, the new lord mayor, Richard Gourney, being devoted to him. Already confident in the movement which manifested itself in his favor, he allowed his new hopes to be revealed at the first moment, by withdrawing from the Commons the guard which the Earl of Essex had given to them for their safety in his absence.

The remonstrance was immediately presented to Charles; he listened patiently to the reading of it. "Does the House intend to publish this declaration?" he asked. "We are not authorized to answer the questions of your Majesty." "Well, I suppose you do not either expect my reply at once; I will send it to you as soon as the importance of the affair will allow." The leaders of the Commons did not wait for the royal reply before proposing to the Houses what were no longer reforms, but innovations. A bill relating to the pressing of soldiers, another to the militia, a third excluding the clergy, of whatever grade they might be, from all civil offices, were presented and adopted in a few days by the Lower House. The remonstrance was published on the 14th of December. Popular ardor, from day to day more impassioned, corresponded with the new attitude of the leaders of the opposition. The aspect of affairs was undergoing a change; to the unanimous movement of the nation succeeded the strife of parties; to reform, revolution. Parliament asked to have its guard back again; but the multitude which thronged around Westminster, the committees formed in all places for the defence of liberty and the faith, represented a militia more formidable than all the soldiers, all busy in proclaiming with loud voice the common danger.

{78}

The king did not stand alone before this bold and persevering effort of the popular reformers. Among the most esteemed members of the House of Commons who had fought against tyranny, a certain number, and these of the best, were brought back to the crown by the dread of innovations and excesses. Charles resolved to secure the attachment of the chiefs of this growing royalist party--Mr. Hyde, Sir John Colepepper, and Lord Falkland. The latter did not please him; he had little esteem for the king, and a great effort of his friends was necessary in order to induce him to enter publicly into his service. He allowed himself to be overcome by the solicitations of Charles himself, constrained by necessity; but when he accepted the office of secretary of state, it was with a profound sense of discouragement and as a victim to a devotion without affection and without hope. These three friends undertook the difficult task of directing the affairs of the king in the House, and the former promised to attempt nothing without their advice.

Charles could no more keep his word with his friends than with his enemies. He drew courage from the adhesion of the gentlemen attached by tradition to the throne, who arrived with clamor from their counties to offer to the king their service. Every day struggles took place in the streets, and particularly around Westminster, between the partisans of the king--the "cavaliers" as they were called, and the "roundheads," a name which the cavaliers themselves gave to the citizens, on account of the contrast which the short hair of the Puritans presented to the long ringlets of the gentlemen. The bill for the exclusion of the bishops, still in suspension in the Upper House, was the special cause of outbreaks. {79} The bishops every day ran the risk of their lives in going and taking their seats, and they were obliged in order to leave Westminster, to hide themselves in the carriages of some popular noblemen. The House of Commons did not reply to the complaints of the Lords against the disturbance excited at its doors: "We need all our friends," said the leaders; "God forbid that we should prevent the people obtaining thereby that which they are right in desiring." At the same time the Commons decreed that as the king persisted in refusing their guard, each of the members was entitled to bring an armed servant and to keep him at the door. Blood was shed incessantly around Westminster Palace.

The bishops adopted their course, a strange and frivolous one in so grave a situation; they resolved to absent themselves, while protesting by anticipation against all bills which might be adopted during their retirement, as not being invested with the necessary assent of all the members of Parliament. This declaration, signed by twelve bishops, being communicated to the king, was approved by him; he seized it as a pretext which might one day permit him to annul the acts of the indomitable Parliament against which he was struggling without success. He did not speak of the matter to his new councillors; but, on the same day, the keeper of the great seal carried, by his orders, the protest of the bishops to the Upper House, who sent it immediately to the Commons.

{80}

The surprise of the Lords and the anger of the Commons were great, and the popular leaders immediately contrived to find therein a new weapon. The impeachment of the bishops was suddenly proposed and resolved upon; they had designed to determine the fate of Parliament itself, and to destroy it by separating themselves from its debates; they were conducted to the Tower, upon the vote of the Upper House, which received the indictment of the Commons. The point was urged further. The king had taken the government of the Tower from Sir William Balfour, to entrust it to a cavalier. Sir Thomas Lunsford, a man little esteemed and very violent. The nomination of a new governor was demanded. Lord Digby, formerly animated with a patriotic zeal but now become the most intimate confidant of the king, was denounced for having said that Parliament was not free. The Commons again claimed their right to have a guard.

Charles did not lose his temper at so many proofs of growing distrust; he nominated as governor of the Tower, Sir John Byron, a man esteemed by all, and he replied to the inquiries of the House: "We do engage to you solemnly on the word of a king, that the security of all and every one of you from violence is and ever shall be with as much our care as the preservation of ourselves and our children," but he refused the guard. The House caused the militia of London to be mustered, and bodies of troops were placed in different parts of the city.

The instinct of the popular leaders had not deceived them concerning the apparent moderation of the king. On the same day, the 3rd of January, 1642, Sir Edward Herbert, the attorney-general of the crown, appeared in the House of Lords, and there, in the name of the king, charged with high treason, Lord Kimbolton and Messrs. Hampden, Pym, Hollis, Strode, and Haslerig, all five members of the House of Commons, for having attempted to destroy the fundamental laws of the kingdom, to deprive the king of his legal power, and to provoke war against him. Such was the substance of the accusations unfolded at length. Sir Edward Herbert demanded at the same time that the House should secure the accused.

{81}

Lord Kimbolton rose. "I am ready," he said, "to obey all the orders of the House; but, since my accusation is public, I demand that my justification may be public also." Silence reigned in the Hall, nobody spoke. Lord Digby leaned towards Lord Kimbolton. "How deplorably," he said, "the king is advised. I shall be very unfortunate if I do not learn whence this comes." He left as if to hasten after news. The advice had emanated from him.

A message from the Lords immediately warned the Commons. The servants of the five accused members hastened at the same time to give notice that the king's men were affixing seals to the locks at their residences. While the Lower House was asking for conference with the Lords, a herald at arms entered the Hall. "In the name of the king, my master," he said, "I come to request the speaker to consign into my hands the five gentlemen, members of the House, whom his Majesty has commanded me to arrest for high treason." None stirred, the accused members remained in their places. The speaker enjoined the herald to withdraw, and a committee nominated without opposition repaired to the palace of the king to say that to so grave a message the House could only reply after mature examination. Two ministers. Lord Falkland and Sir John Colepepper, formed part of the deputation. They had known nothing of the projects of the king. The Lords joined with the Commons in demanding a guard for Parliament. "I will reply to-morrow," the king said in his turn.

{82}

On the morrow, the House opened its sitting at one o'clock. The five members arrived among the first; they preserved silence, being fully informed of what was being prepared; they were surrounded; they were questioned. The agitation was at its height when there was a rush to announce that the king, accompanied by a retinue of four hundred cavaliers, all armed, had arrived at the House, and that he was coming in person to arrest the accused. The House at once urged the five members to withdraw. Pym, Hollis, Hampden, Haslerig went out immediately; it was found necessary to thrust Mr. Strode outside by the shoulders. The House was seated and silent. The king approached, accompanied only by his nephew, the Prince Palatine; he entered the hall; all the members rose, bareheaded. The king cast a rapid glance around him; the seats of the five members were empty. "Mr. Speaker," he said, "with your permission, I will borrow your chair for a moment. Gentlemen, I am sorry for this occasion of coming to you. ... I expected from you obedience and not a message. ... I come to see whether any of the accused are here; as long as they shall sit in this house, I cannot hope that it will return into the good path which I sincerely desire it to be in. ... Mr. Speaker, where are they?" The speaker fell upon his knees. "Under the good pleasure of your Majesty, I have not here either eyes to see or tongue to speak except so much as the House, of which I am the servant, chooses to command me; I humbly implore your Majesty to forgive me." "Well, since I see that the birds have flown," said the king, "I expect that you will send them to me as soon as they return. But I assure you, on the word of a king, I never did intend any force, but shall proceed against them in a fair and legal way. {83} I do not wish to disturb you any longer. I repeat to you, I expect you to send them to me as soon as they shall re-enter the Hall, otherwise I will take means to find them." He left. The House had remained motionless. Cries of "Privilege! privilege!" emanated from some corners of the Hall; then an adjournment until the morrow took place. All the members were eager to know what was being done and said without.

The people were as much agitated as the House, and the cavaliers as energetic as their master. The projected political manœuvre had been the object of their most ardent and haughty wishes; the check they experienced was bitter. The king persisted in his design, but without knowing how to accomplish it. The five members had retired to the city, where the citizens had spontaneously taken to arms. Charles resolved to proceed on the morrow to claim the accused men at the hands of the common council.

The mob thronged upon his passage with grave, sombre looks. Some voices resounded with the threatening cry of "Privilege! privilege!" The whole nation adopted as their own grievance the violated privileges of the Commons. The language of the king towards the common council was mild and conciliatory. He promised to act in all things according to the law, but he claimed the five members, and he did not obtain them. The aldermen of the city looked as grave as the multitude which encumbered the streets. The king returned to his palace foiled and angry.

{84}

The House adjourned for six days, declaring that after the attack upon its privileges, it could not sit in safety without a guard. But a committee had been established in the city, close to the house inhabited by the five accused members. The latter were consulted upon all the resolutions, and they even came several times and sat with the committee, which was open to all the members of the House. Popular anger increased from hour to hour, and its alliance with the House became closer. The adjournment of Parliament was about to expire. The king learnt that the five members were to be brought back in triumph to Westminster by the trainbands and the people. He could not endure to see his enemies pass in front of his palace. The queen had for a long time implored him to go away. The nobility of the counties promised aid and security. Away from this city of London, delivered from the roundheads, far from Parliament, the king would be free, and what could Parliament do without the king? It was resolved to go at first to Hampton Court; but orders were given to secure a more remote refuge in case of need. The Earl of Newcastle, faithfully attached to the king, set out for the north, where his influence was predominant, on the 10th of January. On the eve of the reassembling of the Commons, Charles, accompanied only by his wife, his children, and a few servants, quitted London and that palace of Whitehall which he was never to see again, except on his way to the scaffold.

It was time for the king to fly from London if he wished to avoid the triumph of Parliament. On the 11th of January, the Thames was covered with boats armed for war, bringing back to Westminster the five members. A fleet of vessels, adorned with flags, followed them. Along the shore marched the soldiery of London, bearing at the end of their pikes the last declaration of Parliament.

[Image] Queen Henrietta Maria.

{85}

The Commons were sitting at Westminster, awaiting their colleagues, and as soon as the five members had entered the Hall, the sheriffs were introduced, the House wishing to address its thanks to the City. The gates of Westminster were besieged by an enthusiastic and triumphant crowd; in its midst were a retinue of four thousand gentlemen or freeholders of Buckinghamshire, all on horseback, bringing a petition to Parliament against the Papist lords and bad advisers of the crown. They bore inscribed upon their hats a vow to live and die with Parliament. The breeze of popular favor favored every sail. The leaders of the Commons contrived to take advantage of it. It was voted, in a few hours, that no member could be arrested without the authorization of the House, that Parliament should be free to sojourn wherever it should think proper. Skippon, the commander of the soldiery of London, was entrusted to watch the approaches to the Tower, still governed by Sir John Byron, whose dismissal was demanded by the House. The governor of Portsmouth was forbidden to receive into his town troops or supplies without the order of Parliament. Sir John Hotham was sent to Hull, an important town and the real key to England in the north. It was declared that the kingdom was threatened and that it should be placed in a state of defence. The Lords refused to consent to this vote, but the Commons had attained their object; the people had been apprised of the danger.

{86}

The king was warned as well as the people, and he knew that his project of waging war would not take his enemies unawares. Away from London, where at every moment he had suffered humiliations and defeats, he no longer came into contact with any but his servants, faithful, and often confident of success. With the influence which they enjoyed in their counties his cavaliers found once more their joyful arrogance and valiant ardor. On all sides Charles was urged to declare war, and small isolated enterprises formed a prelude to hostilities. Two hundred cavaliers, commanded by Lunsford, had already repaired to Kingston, near London, the depot of the warehouses of the county; but Parliament adopted its measures, and Lunsford, with his cavaliers, proceeded towards Windsor, whither the king had transported himself. He did not reckon upon staying there long; the queen was secretly preparing to depart, carrying off the crown jewels, in order to make purchases of arms and supplies in Holland. Under the pretext of conducting to the Prince of Orange, the little Princess Henrietta Maria, whom he had married six months before, she was also to negotiate with the sovereigns of the Continent, from whom assistance might be hoped for. It was at York that the king reckoned upon establishing his quarters while awaiting succor. In order to veil his designs, he invited the Houses to make a summary of their grievances, promising to set them right immediately and thus put an end to their discussions.

The Upper House received the message with joy. Even among the popular lords, many were afraid of the struggle which was only at its beginning, and which they wished to see ended. They immediately proposed for the assent of the Commons some hasty thanks to the king; but the Lower House had no confidence in royal promises; it demanded that the king should first consent to consign the command of the Tower, the strongholds, and the soldiery to men enjoying the confidence of Parliament. {87} The Lords rejected this amendment, but thirty-two votes among them had supported it, and the Commons presented their petition alone. As regards the Tower and the fortresses, the king absolutely refused; as regarded the soldiery, his reply was evasive and vague; he wished to gain time.

The Commons, however, knew that they had no time to lose, and the leaders excited among the people a new and keen emotion. They were easily aroused to insurrection; from all counties, from all classes, merchants, artisans, and even women, came numberless petitions, demanding reform of the Church, the punishment of Papists, the repression of malevolents. The multitude stopped at the gate of Westminster. "The Upper House impedes everything," it was said. "We have never doubted the House of Commons," cried the workmen; "but let them give us the names of those who prevent harmony between the good Lords and Commons, and we will see to it." Fear began to overcome the timid; the popular Lords more and more took up the cause of the Lower House. "Whoever refuses to join the Commons in the matter of the soldiery is an enemy of the state," said the Earl of Northumberland. Some few Lords withdrew, others altered their minds, and the bill regarding the soldiery, as well as that for the exclusion of the bishops, was at length voted by the two Houses. Once more the Commons triumphed.

{88}

Charles now announced to Parliament the approaching departure of the queen, and, to soften the irritation which he dreaded, he officially abandoned the prosecution of the five members, and nominated as governor of the Tower Sir John Conyers, who had been designated by the Commons; but when the bill for the exclusion of the bishops was presented to him, he was agitated and perplexed. His conscience opposed the acceptance. His best advisers, with the exception of Hyde, urged him to consent to it. The ordinance respecting the soldiery, which the leaders held in reserve, was more important in their eyes, for it completely disarmed the king. He could not refuse everything; the bishops were vanquished and in prison. ... The king continued to hesitate; the queen intervened; she did not trouble herself in any way concerning the bishops, and feared that the House might oppose her departure. She supplicated, wept, flew into a passion, and, as usual, the king yielded, sorrowfully, regretfully, but he authorized commissioners to sign in his name, and set out to accompany his wife as far as Dover, where she was to embark.

The Commons were of the same opinion as Colepepper, and made a stand at the question of the soldiery even more than at that of the bishops. They followed the king with their messages as far as Dover, and on his return, having insisted upon a prompt sanction of the ordinance which they sent him, the king replied vaguely, but ill-humoredly, being exasperated by the persistent distrust of the Commons, as though his concessions had been sincere. On arriving at Greenwich, he there found his son, the Prince of Wales, whom the Marquis of Hertford, his tutor, had brought, notwithstanding the prohibition of the House. Being reassured as to the fate of his wife and children, he at length replied to Parliament, consenting to entrust the soldiery to the commanders who were designated, except in large towns, but preserving the right of dismissing them. He thereupon set out for York.

{89}

The Houses received the reply of the king as a formal refusal. At Theobalds, and at Newark, fresh messages reached him, haughty at first, then marked by a certain emotion, betraying itself in spite of the firmness of the language. The king was implored to return to London, and to come to an understanding with his people. Upon the brink of an unknown future, dark and troublous, all hesitated and reciprocally endeavored each to influence the other. The negotiations came to no issue, and they were carried on without hope of arriving at any result. Negotiations, however, continued. It was on behalf of the public, of the whole nation, rather than of an immediate and present adversary that the opposition contended. It was in the name of the liberties of old England, of the traditional rights of the people, invaded by royal tyranny, that the resistance of Parliament had begun; it was now in the name of the traditional rights of the crown, attacked by the innovations of Parliament, that the royalist party, every day stronger and more ardent, defended their cause. The ardor of men's minds was immense; the movement universal, strange, irregular. In London, in York, in all the great towns of the kingdom, pamphlets, periodicals, irregular journals increased in numbers, and were circulated in all directions. Amidst this outburst of views of all parties, and in the face of an appeal of so novel a kind, to the opinion of the people--even while the principle of national sovereignty in opposition to the divine right of kings had taken possession of all minds and was the foundation of all proceedings--the statutes, traditions, customs, were incessantly invoked as the only legitimate tests of the discussion. Revolution was everywhere in progress, though no one dared to say so, or even avow it to himself.

{90}

The situation became day by day more violent and more strained. A great number of members of Parliament had left London, many had joined the king at York. The Houses in their turn entered upon the path of tyranny. Lord Herbert and Sir Ralph Hopton, having raised their voices in favor of the king, one was placed in the Tower, the other censured and threatened; the royalist petitions were suppressed. Cromwell, as yet not very conspicuous in the House, but more involved than any other in the plots of the revolution, brought special ability to bear upon tracing out and denouncing the royalist conspiracies.

An unexpected incident widened irreparably the abyss which was opening up between the two parties: the king, on the 23d of April, asked Sir John Hotham, governor of Hull, to resign the town to him. Already the Duke of York and the Prince Palatine had entered it under the pretext of spending a day there. Already the mayor and some citizens were marching towards the gates, to open them to his Majesty, who was arriving at the foot of the ramparts. Hotham ordered them to return to their homes, and he appeared upon the wall, surrounded by his officers. The king summoned him to open the gates. Sir John fell upon his knees, apologizing for his resistance. He had, he said, taken an oath to Parliament. "Kill him! kill the traitor!" exclaimed the cavaliers who surrounded the king; "cast him down!" But the officers of Sir John were more resolute than he. The king was compelled to withdraw, and on the same day he addressed a message to Parliament, asking justice for such an offense.

{91}

Parliament approved of the act of its governor in all respects, saying that the strongholds and arsenals had been formerly confided to the king for the safety of the kingdom, and that the same reason might now command the Houses to seize them. This was a declaration of war. Thirty-two Lords and sixty-five members of the Commons, Mr. Hyde among others, set out for York. The Chancellor caused the great seal to be given over to the king, and made his escape on the morrow. Each party was about to make the last effort for sustaining the struggle. None foresaw how far it was to go, nor what misfortunes and crimes were to signalize the civil war which was now about to commence.

{92}