[Footnote 1: Memoirs of Retz, i. 261.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Jan. 6, 22, 23. Parl. Hist. iii. 1277. Burnett's Own Times, i. 42.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan 19] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Jan 20]

formalities of reading the commission, and calling over the members, Bradshaw ordered the prisoner to be introduced.[1]

Charles was received at the door by the serjeant-at-arms, and conducted by him within the bar. His step was firm, his countenance erect and unmoved. He did not uncover; but first seated himself, then rose, and surveyed the court with an air of superiority, which abashed and irritated his enemies. While the clerk read the charge, he appeared to listen with indifference; but a smile of contempt was seen to quiver on his lips at the passage which described him as a "tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public and implacable enemy to the commonwealth of England." At the conclusion Bradshaw called on him to answer; but he demanded by what lawful authority he had been brought thither. He was king of England; he acknowledged no superior upon earth; and the crown, which he had received from his ancestors, he would transmit unimpaired by any act of his to his posterity. His case, moreover, was the case of all the people of England; for if force without law could alter the fundamental laws of the kingdom, there was no man who could be secure of his life or liberty for an hour. He was told that the court sat by the authority of the House of

[Footnote 1: The commissioners according to the act (for bills passed by the Commons alone were now denominated acts), were in number 133, chosen out of the lower house, the inns of court, the city, and the army. In one of their first meetings they chose Bradshaw for their president. He was a native of Cheshire, bred to the bar, had long practised in the Guildhall, and had lately before been made serjeant. In the first list of commissioners his name did not occur; but on the rejection of the ordinance by the upper house, the names of six lords were erased, and his name with those of five others was substituted. He obtained for the reward of his services the estate of Lord Cottington, the chancellorship of the duchy of Lancaster, and the office of president of the council.]

Commons. But where, he asked, were the Lords? Were the Commons the whole legislature? Were they free? Were they a court of judicature? Could they confer on others a jurisdiction which they did not possess themselves? He would never acknowledge an usurped authority. It was a duty imposed upon him by the Almighty to disown every lawless power, that invaded either the rights of the crown or the liberties of the subject. Such was the substance of his discourse, delivered on three different days, and amidst innumerable interruptions from the president, who would not suffer the jurisdiction of the court to be questioned, and at last ordered the "default and contempt of the prisoner" to be recorded.

The two following days the court sat in private, to receive evidence that the king had commanded in several engagements, and to deliberate on the form of judgment to be pronounced.[a] On the third Bradshaw took his seat, dressed in scarlet; and Charles immediately demanded to be heard. He did not mean, he said, on this occasion either to acknowledge or deny the authority of the court; his object was to ask a favour, which would spare them the commission of a great crime, and restore the blessing of tranquillity to his people. He asked permission to confer with a joint committee of the Lords and Commons. The president replied that the proposal was not altogether new, though it was now made for the first time by the king himself; that it pre-supposed the existence of an authority co-ordinate with that of the Commons, which could not be admitted; that its object could only be to delay the proceedings of the court, now that judgment was to be pronounced. Here he was interrupted by the earnest expostulation of Colonel Downes, one of the members. The king was immediately

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan. 27.]

removed; the commissioners adjourned into a neighbouring apartment, and almost an hour was spent in private and animated debate. Had the conference been granted, Charles would have proposed (so at least it was understood) to resign the crown in favour of the prince of Wales.

When the court resumed, Bradshaw announced to him the refusal of his request, and proceeded to animadvert in harsh and unfeeling language on the principal events of his reign. The meek spirit of the prisoner was roused; he made an attempt to speak, but was immediately silenced with the remark, that the time for his defence was past; that he had spurned the numerous opportunities offered to him by the indulgence of the court; and that nothing remained for his judges but to pronounce sentence; for they had learned from holy writ that "to acquit the guilty was of equal abomination as to condemn the innocent." The charge was again read, and was followed by the judgment, "that the court, being satisfied in conscience that he, the said Charles Stuart, was guilty of the crimes of which he had been accused, did adjudge him as a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public enemy to the good people of the nation, to be put to death by severing his head from his body." The king heard it in silence, sometimes smiling with contempt, sometimes raising his eyes to heaven, as if he appealed from the malice of men to the justice of the Almighty. At the conclusion the commissioners rose in a body to testify their assent, and Charles made a last and more earnest effort to speak; but Bradshaw ordered him to be removed, and the guards hurried him out of the hall.[1]

[Footnote 1: See the Trial of Charles Stuart, with additions by Nalson, folio, London, 1735.]

During this trial a strong military force had been kept under arms to suppress any demonstration of popular feeling in favour of the king. On the first day, when the name of Fairfax, as one of the commissioners, was called, a female voice cried from the gallery, "He has more wit than to be here." On another occasion, when Bradshaw attributed the charge against the king to the consentient voice of the people of England, the same female voice exclaimed, "No, not one-tenth of the people." A faint murmur of approbation followed, but was instantly suppressed by the military. The speaker was recognised to be Lady Fairfax, the wife of the commander-in-chief; and these affronts, probably on that account, were suffered to pass unnoticed.[1]

When Coke, the solicitor-general, opened the pleadings, the king gently tapped him on the shoulder with his cane, crying, "Hold, hold." At the same moment the silver head of the cane fell off, and rolled on the floor. It was an accident which might have happened at any time; but in this superstitions age it could not fail to be taken for an omen. Both his friends and enemies interpreted it as a presage of his approaching decapitation.[2]

On one day, as the king entered the court, he heard behind him the cry of "Justice, justice;" on another, as he passed between two lines of soldiers, the word "execution" was repeatedly sounded in his ears. He bore these affronts with patience, and on

[Footnote 1: Nalson's Trial. Clarendon, iii. 254. State Trials, 366, 367, 368, folio, 1730.]

[Footnote 2: Nalson. Herbert, 165. "He seemed unconcerned; yet told the bishop, it really made a great impression on him; and to this hour, says he, I know not possibly how it should come."—Warwick, 340.]

his return said to Herbert, "I am well assured that the soldiers bear me no malice. The cry was suggested by their officers, for whom they would do the like if there were occasion."[1]

On his return from the hall, men and women crowded behind the guards, and called aloud, "God preserve your majesty." But one of the soldiers venturing to say, "God bless you, Sir," received a stroke on the head from an officer with his cane. "Truly," observed the king, "I think the punishment exceeded the offence."[2]

By his conduct during these proceedings, Charles had exalted his character even in the estimation of his enemies: he had now to prepare himself for a still more trying scene, to nerve his mind against the terrors of a public and ignominious death. But he was no longer the man he had been before the civil war. Affliction had chastened his mind; he had learned from experience to submit to the visitations of Providence; and he sought and found strength and relief in the consolations of religion. The next day, the Sunday, was spent by him at St. James's, by the commissioners at Whitehall.[a] They observed a fast, preached on the judgments of God, and prayed for a blessing on the commonwealth. He devoted his time to devotional exercises in the company of Herbert and of Dr. Juxon, bishop of London, who at the request of Hugh Peters (and it should be recorded to the honour of that fanatical preacher) had been permitted to attended the monarch. His nephew the prince elector, the duke of Richmond, the marquess of Hertford, and several other noblemen, came to the door of his bedchamber, to pay their last respects to

[Footnote 1: Herbert, 163, 164.]

[Footnote 2: Ibid. 163, 165.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan. 28.]

their sovereign; but they were told in his name that he thanked them for their attachment, and desired their prayers; that the shortness of his time admonished him to think of another world; and that the only moments which he could spare must be given to his children. These were two, the Princess Elizabeth and the duke of Gloucester, the former wept for her father's fate; the latter, too young to understand the cause, joined his tears through sympathy. Charles placed them on his knees, gave them such advice as was adapted to their years, and seemed to derive pleasure from the pertinency of their answers. In conclusion, he divided a few jewels between them, kissed them, gave them his blessings and hastily retired to his devotions.[1]

On the last night of his life he slept soundly about four hours, and early in the morning[a] awakened Herbert, who lay on a pallet by his bed-side. "This," he said, "is my second marriage-day. I would be as trim as may be; for before night I hope to be espoused to my blessed Jesus." He then pointed out the clothes which he meant to wear, and ordered two shirts, on account of the severity of the weather; "For," he observed, "were I to shake through cold, my enemies would attribute it to fear, I would have no such imputation. I fear not death. Death is not terrible to me. I bless my God I am prepared."[2]

[Footnote 1: Herbert, 169-180. State Trials, 357-360.]

[Footnote 2: Herbert, 183-185, I may here insert an anecdote, which seems to prove that Charles attributed his misfortunes in a great measure to the counsels of Archbishop Laud. On the last night of his life, he had observed that Herbert was restless during his sleep, and in the morning insisted on knowing the cause. Herbert answered that he was dreaming. He saw Laud enter the room; the king took him aside, and spoke to him with a pensive countenance; the archbishop sighed, retired, and fell prostrate on the ground. Charles replied, "It is very remarkable; but he is dead. Yet had we conferred together during life, 'tis very likely (albeit I loved him well) I should have said something to him, might have occasioned his sigh."—Herbert's Letter to Dr. Samways, published at the end of his Memoirs, p. 220.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan. 30.]

The king spent an hour in privacy with the bishop; Herbert was afterwards admitted; and about ten o'clock Colonel Hacker announced that it was time to proceed to Whitehall. He obeyed, was conducted on foot, between two detachments of military, across the park, and received permission to repose himself in his former bedchamber. Dinner had been prepared for him; but he refused to eat, though afterwards, at the solicitation of the bishop, he took the half of a manchet and a glass of wine. Here he remained almost two hours, in constant expectation of the last summons, spending his time partly in prayer and partly in discourse with Dr. Juxon. There might have been nothing mysterious in the delay; if there was, it may perhaps be explained from the following circumstances.

Four days had now elapsed since the arrival of ambassadors from the Hague to intercede in his favour. It was only on the preceding evening that they had obtained audiences of the two houses, and hitherto no answer had been returned. In their company came Seymour, the bearer of two letters from the prince of Wales, one addressed to the king, the other to the Lord Fairfax. He had already delivered the letter, and with it a sheet of blank paper subscribed with the name and sealed with the arms of the prince. It was the price which he offered to the grandees of the army for the life of his father. Let them fill it up with the conditions: whatever they might be, they were already granted; his seal and signature were affixed.[1] It is not improbable that this offer may have induced the leaders to pause. That Fairfax laboured to postpone the execution, was always asserted by his friends; and we have evidence to prove that, though he was at Whitehall, he knew not, or at least pretend not to know, what was passing.[2]

In the mean while Charles enjoyed the consolation of learning that his son had not forgotten him in his distress. By the indulgence of Colonel Tomlinson, Seymour was admitted, delivered the letter, and received the royal instructions for the prince. He was hardly gone, when Hacker arrived with the fatal summons. About two o'clock the king proceeded through the long gallery, lined on each side with soldiers, who, far from insulting the fallen monarch, appeared by their sorrowful looks to sympathize with his fate. At the end an aperture had been made in the wall, through which he stepped at once upon the scaffold. It was hung with black; at the farther end were seen the two executioners, the block, and the axe; below

[Footnote 1: For the arrival of the ambassadors see the Journals of the House of Commons on the 26th. A fac-simile of the carte-blanche, with the signature of the prince, graces the title-page of the third volume of the Original Letters, published by Mr. Ellis.]

[Footnote 2: "Mean time they went into the long gallery, where, chancing to meet the general, he ask'd Mr. Herbert how the king did? Which he thought strange.... His question being answered, the general seem'd much surprised."—Herbert, 194. It is difficult to believe that Herbert could have mistaken or fabricated such a question, or that Fairfax would have asked it, had he known what had taken place. To his assertion that Fairfax was with the officers in Harrison's room, employed in "prayer or discourse," it has been objected that his name does not occur among the names of those who were proved to have been there at the trial of the regicides. But that is no contradiction. The witnesses speak of what happened before, Herbert of what happened during, the execution. See also Ellis, 2nd series, iii. 345.]

appeared in arms several regiments of horse and foot; and beyond, as far as the eye was permitted to reach, waved a dense and countless crowd of spectators. The king stood collected and undismayed amidst the apparatus of death. There was in his countenance that cheerful intrepidity, in his demeanour that dignified calmness, which had characterized, in the hall of Fotheringay, his royal grandmother, Mary Stuart. It was his wish to address the people; but they were kept beyond the reach of his voice by the swords of the military; and therefore confining his discourse to the few persons standing with him on the scaffold, he took, he said, that opportunity of denying in the presence of his God the crimes of which he had been accused. It was not to him, but to the houses of parliament, that the war and all its evils should be charged. The parliament had first invaded the rights of the crown by claiming the command of the army; and had provoked hostilities by issuing commissions for the levy of forces, before he had raised a single man. But he had forgiven all, even those, whoever they were (for he did not desire to know their names), who had brought him to his death. He did more than forgive them, he prayed that they might repent. But for that purpose they must do three things; they must render to God his due, by settling the church according to the Scripture; they must restore to the crown those rights which belonged to it by law; and they must teach the people the distinction between the sovereign and the subject; those persons could not be governors who were to be governed, they could not rule, whose duty it was to obey. Then, in allusion to the offers formerly made to him by the army, he concluded with, these words:—"Sirs, it was for the liberties of the people that I am come here. If I would have assented to an arbitrary sway, to have all things changed according to the power of the sword, I needed not to have come hither; and therefore, I tell you (and I pray God it be not laid to your charge), that I am the martyr of the people."

Having added, at the suggestion of Dr. Juxon, "I die a Christian according to the profession of the church of England, as I found it left me by my father," he said, addressing himself to the prelate, "I have on my side a good cause, and a gracious God."

BISHOP.—There is but one stage more; it is turbulent and troublesome, but a short one. It will carry you from earth to heaven, and there you will find joy and comfort.

KING.—I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible Crown.

BISHOP.—You exchange an earthly for an eternal crown—a good exchange.

Being ready, he bent his neck on the block, and after a short pause, stretched out his hand as a signal. At that instant the axe descended; the head rolled from the body; and a deep groan burst from the multitude of the spectators. But they had no leisure to testify their feelings; two troops of horse dispersed them in different directions.[1]

[Footnote 1: Herbert, 189-194. Warwick, 344. Nalson, Trial of Charles Stuart. The royal corpse, having been embalmed, was after some days delivered to the earl of Richmond for private interment at Windsor. That nobleman, accompanied by the marquess of Hertford, the earls of Southampton and Lindsey, Dr. Juxon, and a few of the king's attendants, deposited it in a vault in the choir of St. George's chapel, which already contained the remains of Henry VIII. and of his third queen, Jane Seymour.—Herbert, 203. Blencowe, Sydney Papers, 64. Notwithstanding such authority, the assertion of Clarendon that the place could not be discovered threw some doubt upon the subject. But in 1813 it chanced that the workmen made an aperture in a vault corresponding in situation, and occupied by three coffins; and the prince-regent ordered an investigation to ascertain the truth. One of the coffins, in conformity with the account of Herbert, was of lead, with a leaden scroll in which were cut the words "King Charles." In the upper lid of this an opening was made; and when the cerecloth and unctuous matter were removed, the features of the face, as far as they could be distinguished, bore a strong resemblance to the portraits of Charles I. To complete the proof, the head was found to have been separated from the trunk by some sharp instrument, which had cut through the fourth, vertebra of the neck.—See "An Account of what appeared on opening the coffin of King Charles I. by Sir Henry Halford, bart." 1813. It was observed at the same time, that "the lead coffin of Henry VIII. had been beaten in about the middle, and a considerable opening in that part exposed a mere skeleton of the king." This may, perhaps, be accounted for from a passage in Herbert, who tells us that while the workmen were employed about the inscription, the chapel was cleared, but a soldier contrived to conceal himself, descended into the vault, cut off some of the velvet pall, and "wimbled a hole into the largest coffin." He was caught, and "a bone was found about him, which, he said, he would haft a knife with."—Herbert 204. See note (C).]

Such was the end of the unfortunate Charles Stuart; an awful lesson to the possessors of royalty, to watch the growth of public opinion, and to moderate their pretensions in conformity with the reasonable desires of their subjects. Had he lived at a more early period, when the sense of wrong was quickly subdued by the habit of submission, his reign would probably have been marked with fewer violations of the national liberties. It was resistance that made him a tyrant. The spirit of the people refused to yield to the encroachments of authority; and one act of oppression placed him under the necessity of committing another, till he had revived and enforced all those odious prerogatives, which, though usually claimed, were but sparingly exercised, by his predecessors. For some years his efforts seemed successful; but the Scottish insurrection revealed the delusion; he had parted with the real authority of a king, when he forfeited the confidence and affection of his subjects.

But while we blame the illegal measures of Charles, we ought not to screen from censure the subsequent conduct of his principal opponents. From the moment that war seemed inevitable, they acted as if they thought themselves absolved from all obligations of honour and honesty. They never ceased to inflame the passions of the people by misrepresentation and calumny; they exercised a power far more arbitrary and formidable than had ever been claimed by the king; they punished summarily, on mere suspicion, and without attention to the forms of law; and by their committees they established in every county a knot of petty tyrants, who disposed at will of the liberty and property of the inhabitants. Such anomalies may, perhaps, be inseparable from the jealousies, the resentments, and the heart-burnings, which are engendered in civil commotions; but certain it is that right and justice had seldom been more wantonly outraged, than they were by those who professed to have drawn the sword in the defence of right and justice.

Neither should the death of Charles be attributed to the vengeance of the people. They, for the most part, declared themselves satisfied with their victory; they sought not the blood of the captive monarch; they were even, willing to replace him on the throne, under those limitations which they deemed necessary for the preservation of their rights. The men who hurried him to the scaffold were a small faction of bold and ambitious spirits, who had the address to guide the passions and fanaticism of their followers, and were enabled through them to control the real sentiments of the nation. Even of the commissioners appointed to sit in judgment on the king, scarcely one-half could be induced to attend at his trial; and many of those who concurred in his condemnation subscribed the sentence with feelings of shame and remorse. But so it always happens in revolutions: the most violent put themselves forward; their vigilance and activity seem to multiply their number; and the daring of the few wins the ascendancy over the indolence or the pusillanimity of the many.



CHAPTER IV.

THE COMMONWEALTH.

Establishment Of The Commonwealth—Punishment Of The Royalists—Mutiny And Suppression Of The Levellers—Charles Ii Proclaimed In Scotland—Ascendancy Of His Adherents In Ireland—Their Defeat At Rathmines—Success Of Cromwell In Ireland—Defeat Of Montrose, And Landing Of Charles In Scotland-Cromwell Is Sent Against Him—He Gains A Victory At Dunbar—The King Marches Into England—Loses The Battle Of Worcester—His Subsequent Adventures And Escape.

When the two houses first placed themselves in opposition to the sovereign, their demands were limited to the redress of existing grievances; now that the struggle was over, the triumphant party refused to be content with anything less than the abolition of the old, and the establishment of a new and more popular form of government. Some, indeed, still ventured to raise their voices in favour of monarchy, on the plea that it was an institution the most congenial to the habits and feelings of Englishmen. By these it was proposed that the two elder sons of Charles should be passed by, because their notions were already formed, and their resentments already kindled; that the young duke of Gloucester, or his sister Elizabeth, should be placed on the throne; and that, under the infant sovereign, the royal prerogative should be circumscribed by law, so as to secure from future encroachment the just liberties of the people. But the majority warmly contended for the establishment of a commonwealth. Why, they asked, should they spontaneously set up again the idol which it had cost them so much blood and treasure to pull down? Laws would prove but feeble restraints on the passions of a proud and powerful monarch. If they sought an insuperable barrier to the restoration of despotism, it could be found only in some of those institutions which lodge the supreme power with the representatives of the people. That they spoke their real sentiments is not improbable, though we are assured, by one who was present at their meetings, that personal interest had no small influence in their final determination. They had sinned too deeply against royalty to trust themselves to the mercy, or the moderation, of a king. A republic was their choice, because it promised to shelter them from the vengeance of their enemies, and offered to them the additional advantage of sharing among themselves all the power, the patronage, and the emoluments of office.[1]

In accordance with this decision, the moment the head of the royal victim fell[a] on the scaffold at Whitehall, a proclamation was read in Cheapside, declaring it treason to give to any person the title of king without the authority of parliament; and at the same time was published the vote of the 4th of January, that the supreme authority in the nation resided in the representatives of the people. The peers, though aware of their approaching fate, continued to sit; but, after a pause of a few days, the Commons resolved: first,[b] that the House of Lords, and, next,[c] that the office of king, ought to be abolished. These votes, though the acts

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 391.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan. 30.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 6.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. Feb. 7.]

to be ingrafted on them were postponed, proved sufficient; from that hour the kingship (the word by which the royal dignity was now designated), with the legislative and judicial authority of the peers, was considered extinct, and the lower house, under the name of the parliament of England, concentrated within itself all the powers of government.[1]

The next measure was the appointment, by the Commons, of a council of state, to consist of forty-one members, with powers limited in duration to twelve months. They were charged[a] with the preservation of domestic tranquillity, the care and disposal of the military and naval force, the superintendence of internal and external trade, and the negotiation of treaties with foreign powers. Of the persons selected[b] for this office, three-fourths possessed seats in the house; and they reckoned among them the heads of the law, the chief officers in the army, and five peers, the earls of Denbigh, Mulgrave, Pembroke, and Salisbury, with the Lord Grey of Werke, who condescended to accept the appointment, either through attachment to the cause, or as a compensation for the loss of their hereditary rights.[2] But at the very outset a schism appeared among the new counsellors. The oath required of them by the parliament contained an approval of the king's trial, of the vote against the Scots and their English associates, and of the abolition of monarchy and of the House of Lords. By Cromwell and

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1649, Jan. 30, Feb. 6, 7. Cromwell voted in favour of the House of Lords.—Ludlow, i. 246. Could he be sincere? I think not.]

[Footnote 2: The earl of Pembroke had the meanness to solicit and accept the place of representative for Berkshire; and his example was imitated by two other peers, the earl of Salisbury and Lord Howard of Escrick, who sat for Lynn and Carlisle.—Journals, April 16, May 5 Sept. 18. Leicester's Journal, 72.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 13.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 14.]

eighteen others, it was taken cheerfully, and without comment; by the remaining twenty-two, with Fairfax at their head, it was firmly but respectfully refused.[a] The peers alleged that it stood not with their honour to approve upon oath of that which had been done in opposition to their vote; the commoners, that it was not for them to pronounce an opinion on judicial proceedings of which they had no official information. But their doubts respecting transactions that were past formed no objection to the authority of the existing government. The House of Commons was in actual possession of the supreme power. From that house they derived protection, to it they owed obedience, and with it they were ready to live and die. Cromwell and his friends had the wisdom to yield; the retrospective clauses were expunged,[b] and in their place was substituted a general promise of adhesion to the parliament, both with respect to the existing form of public liberty, and the future government of the nation, "by way of a republic without king or house of peers."[1]

This important revolution drew with it several other alterations. A representation of the House of Commons superseded the royal effigy on the great seal, which was intrusted to three lords-commissioners, Lysle, Keble, and Whitelock; the writs no longer ran in the name of the king, but of "the keepers of the liberty of England by authority of parliament;" new commissions were issued to the judges, sheriffs, and magistrates; and in lieu of the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, was required an engagement to be true to the commonwealth of England. Of the

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 7, 13, 14, 15, 19, 22. Whitelock, 378, 382, 383. The amended oath is in Walker, part ii. 130.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 17.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 22.]

judges, six resigned; the other six consented to retain their situations, if parliament would issue a proclamation declaratory of its intention to maintain the fundamental laws of the kingdom. The condition was accepted and fulfilled;[1] the courts proceeded to hear and determine causes after the ancient manner; and the great body of the people scarcely felt the important change which had been made in the government of the country. For several years past the supreme authority had been administered in the name of the king by the two houses at Westminster, with the aid of the committee at Derby House; now the same authority was equally administered in the name of the people by one house only, and with the advice of a council of state.

The merit or demerit of thus erecting a commonwealth on the ruins of the monarchy chiefly belongs to Cromwell, Ireton, Bradshaw, and Marten, who by their superior influence guided and controlled the opinions and passions of their associates in the senate and the army. After the king's death they derived much valuable aid from the talents of Vane,[2] Whitelock, and St. John; and a feeble lustre was shed on their cause by the accession of the five peers

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 8. Yet neither this declaration nor the frequent remonstrances of the lawyers could prevent the house from usurping the office of the judges, or from inflicting illegal punishments. Thus, for example, on the report of a committee, detailing the discovery of a conspiracy to extort money by a false charge of delinquency, the house, without hearing the accused, or sending them before a court of justice, proceeded to inflict on some the penalties of the pillory, fine, and imprisonment, and adjudged Mrs. Samford, as the principal, to be whipped the next day from Newgate to the Old Exchange, and to be kept to hard labour for three months.—Journals, 1650, Feb. 2, Aug. 13.]

[Footnote 2: Immediately after Pride's purge, Vane, disgusted at the intolerance of his own party, left London, and retired to Raby Castle; he was now induced to rejoin them, and resumed his seat on Feb. 26.]

from the abolished House of Lords. But, after all, what right could this handful of men have to impose a new constitution on the kingdom? Ought they not, in consistency with their own principles, to have ascertained the sense of the nation by calling a new parliament? The question was raised, but the leaders, aware that their power was based on the sword of the military, shrunk from the experiment; and, to elude the demands of their opponents, appointed a committee to regulate the succession of parliaments and the election of members; a committee, which repeatedly met and deliberated, but never brought the question to any definitive conclusion. Still, when the new authorities looked around the house, and observed the empty benches, they were admonished of their own insignificance, and of the hollowness of their pretensions. They claimed the sovereign authority, as the representatives of the people; but the majority of those representatives had been excluded by successive acts of military violence; and the house had been reduced from more than five hundred members, to less than one-seventh of that number. For the credit and security of the government it was necessary both to supply the deficiency, and, at the same time, to oppose a bar to the introduction of men of opposite principles. With this view, they resolved[a] to continue the exclusion of those who had on the 5th of December assented to the vote, that the king's "concessions were a sufficient ground to proceed to a settlement;" but to open the house to all others who should previously enter on the journals their dissent from that resolution.[1] By this expedient, and by occasional writs for elections in those places where

[Footnote 1: Journ. Feb. 1. Walker, part ii. 115. Whitelock, 376.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 1.]

the influence of the party was irresistible, the number of members gradually rose to one hundred and fifty, though it was seldom that the attendance of one-half, or even of one-third, could be procured.

During the war, the dread of retaliation had taught the two parties to temper with moderation the license of victory. Little blood had been shed except in the field of battle. But now that check was removed. The fanatics, not satisfied with the death of the king, demanded, with the Bible in their hands, additional victims; and the politicians deemed it prudent by the display of punishment to restrain the machinations of their enemies. Among the royalists in custody were the duke of Hamilton (who was also earl of Cambridge in England), the earl of Holland, Goring, earl of Norwich, the Lord Capel, and Sir John Owen, all engaged in the last attempt for the restoration of Charles to the throne. By a resolution of the House of Commons in November, Hamilton had been adjudged to pay a fine of one hundred thousand pounds, and the other four to remain in perpetual imprisonment; but after the triumph of the Independents, this vote had been rescinded,[a] and a high court of justice was now established to try the same persons on a charge of high treason. It was in vain that Hamilton pleaded[b] the order of the Scottish parliament under which he had acted; that Capel demanded to be brought before his peers, or a jury of his countrymen, according to those fundamental laws which the parliament had promised to maintain; that all invoked the national faith in favour of that quarter which they had obtained at the time of their surrender. Bradshaw, the president, delivered the opinions of the court. To Hamilton, he replied,

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 1.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 10.]

that, as an English earl, he was amenable to the justice of the country; to Capel, that the court had been established by the parliament, the supreme authority to which all must submit; to each, that quarter given on the field of battle insured protection from the sword of the conqueror, but not from the vengeance of the law. All five were condemned[a] to lose their heads; but the rigour of the judgment was softened[b] by a reference to the mercy of parliament. The next day the wives of Holland and Capel, accompanied by a long train of females in mourning, appeared at the bar, to solicit the pardon of the condemned. Though their petitions were rejected, a respite for two days was granted. This favour awakened new hopes; recourse was had to flattery and entreaty; bribes were offered and accepted; and the following morning[c] new petitions were presented. The fate of Holland occupied a debate of considerable interest. Among the Independents he had many personal friends, and the Presbyterians exerted all their influence in his favour. But the saints expatiated on his repeated apostasy from the cause; and, after a sharp contest, Cromwell and Ireton obtained a majority of a single voice for his death. The case of Goring was next considered. No man during the war had treated his opponents with more bitter contumely, no one had inflicted on them deeper injuries; and yet, on an equal division, his life was saved by the casting voice of the speaker. The sentences of Hamilton and Capel were affirmed by the unanimous vote of the house; but, to the surprise of all men, Owen, a stranger, without friends or interest, had the good fortune to escape. His forlorn condition moved the pity of Colonel Hutchinson; the efforts of Hutchinson

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. March 6.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. March 7.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. March 8.]

were seconded by Ireton; and so powerful was their united influence, that they obtained a majority of five in his favour. Hamilton, Holland, and Capel died[a] on the scaffold, the first martyrs of loyalty after the establishment of the commonwealth.[1]

But, though the avowed enemies of the cause crouched before their conquerors, there was much in the internal state of the country to awaken apprehension in the breasts of Cromwell and his friends. There could be no doubt that the ancient royalists longed for the opportunity of avenging the blood of the king; or that the new royalists, the Presbyterians, who sought to re-establish the throne on the conditions stipulated by the treaty in the Isle of Wight, bore with impatience the superiority of their rivals. Throughout the kingdom the lower classes loudly complained of the burthen of taxation; in several parts they suffered under the pressure of penury and famine. In Lancashire and Westmoreland numbers perished through want; and it was certified by the magistrates of Cumberland that thirty thousand families in that county "had neither seed nor bread corn, nor the means of procuring either."[2] But that which chiefly created alarm was the progress made among the military by the "Levellers," men of consistent principles and uncompromising conduct under the guidance of Colonel John Lilburne, an officer distinguished by his talents, his eloquence, and

[Footnote 1: If the reader compares the detailed narrative of these proceedings by Clarendon (iii. 265-270), with the official account in the Journals (March 7, 8), he will be surprised at the numerous inaccuracies of the historian. See also the State Trials; England's Bloody Tribunal; Whitelock, 386; Burnet's Hamiltons, 385; Leicester's Journal, 70; Ludlow, i. 247; and Hutchinson, 310.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 398, 399.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Mar. 9.]

his courage.[1] Lilburne, with his friends, had long cherished a suspicion that Cromwell, Ireton, and Harrison sought only their private aggrandizement under the mantle of patriotism; and the recent changes had converted this suspicion into conviction. They observed that the same men ruled without control in the general council of officers, in the parliament, and in the council of state. They contended that every question was first debated and settled in the council of officers, and that, if their determination was afterwards adopted by the house, it was only that it might go forth to the public under the pretended sanction of the representatives of the nation; that the council of state had been vested with powers more absolute and oppressive than had ever been exercised by the late king; and that the High Court of Justice had been established by the party for the purpose of depriving their victims of those remedies which would be afforded by the ordinary courts of law. In some of their publications they went further. They maintained that the council of state was employed as an experiment on the patience of the nation; that it was intended to pass from the tyranny of a few to the tyranny of one; and that Oliver Cromwell was the man who aspired to that high but dangerous pre-eminence.[2]

A plan of the intended constitution, entitled "the

[Footnote 1: Lilburne in his youth had been a partisan of Bastwick, and had printed one of his tracts in Holland. Before the Star-chamber he refused to take the oath ex officio, or to answer interrogatories, and in consequence was condemned to stand in the pillory, was whipped from the Fleet-prison to Westminster, receiving five hundred lashes with knotted cords, and was imprisoned with double irons on his hands and legs. Three years later (1641), the House of Commons voted the punishment illegal, bloody, barbarous, and tyrannical.—Burton's Diary, iii. 503, note.]

[Footnote 2: See England's New Chains Discovered, and the Hunting of the Foxes, passim; the King's Pamphlets, No. 411, xxi.; 414, xii. xvi.]

agreement of the people," had been sanctioned by the council of officers, and presented[a] by Fairfax to the House of Commons, that it might be transmitted to the several counties, and there receive the approbation of the inhabitants. As a sop to shut the mouth of Cerberus, the sum of three thousand pounds, to be raised from the estates of delinquents in the county of Durham, had been voted[b] to Lilburne; but the moment he returned from the north, he appeared at the bar of the house, and petitioned against "the agreement," objecting in particular to one of the provisions by which the parliament was to sit but six months, every two years, and the government of the nation during the other eighteen months was to be intrusted to the council of state. His example was quickly followed; and the table was covered with a succession of petitions from officers and soldiers, and "the well-affected" in different counties, who demanded that a new parliament should be holden every year; that during the intervals the supreme power should be exercised by a committee of the house; that no member of the last should sit in the succeeding parliament; that the self-denying ordinance should be enforced; that no officer should retain his command in the army for more than a certain period; that the High Court of Justice should be abolished as contrary to law, and the council of state, as likely to become an engine of tyranny; that the proceedings in the courts should be in the English language, the number of lawyers diminished, and their fees reduced; that the excise and customs should be taken away, and the lands of delinquents sold for compensation to the well-affected; that religion should be "reformed according to the mind of God;" that no one should be molested or incapacitated

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan. 20.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 26.]

on account of conscience; that tithes should be abolished; and that the income of each minister should be fixed at one hundred pounds per annum, to be raised by a rate on his parishioners.[1]

Aware of the necessity of crushing the spirit of opposition in the military, general orders were issued[a] by Fairfax, prohibiting private meetings of officers or soldiers "to the disturbance of the army;" and on the receipt[b] of a letter of remonstrance from several regiments, four of the five troopers by whom it was signed were condemned[c] by a court-martial to ride the wooden horse with their faces to the tail, to have their swords broken over their heads, and to be afterwards cashiered. Lilburne, on the other hand, laboured to inflame the general discontent by a succession of pamphlets, entitled, "England's New Chains Discovered," "The Hunting of the Foxes from Newmarket and Triploe Heath to Whitehall by five small Beagles" (in allusion to the five troopers), and the second part of "England's New Chains." The last he read[d] to a numerous assembly at Winchester House; by the parliament it was voted[e] a seditious and traitorous libel, and the author, with his associates, Walwyn, Prince, and Overton; was committed,[f] by order of the council, to close custody in the Tower.[2]

It had been determined to send to Ireland a division of twelve thousand men; and the regiments to be employed were selected by ballot, apparently in the fairest manner. The men, however, avowed a resolution not to march. It was not, they said, that they

[Footnote 1: Walker, 133. Whitelock, 388, 393, 396, 398, 399. Carte, Letters, i. 229.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 385, 386, 392. Council Book in the State-paper Office, March 27, No. 17; March 29, No. 27. Carte, Letters, i. 273, 276.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. March 1.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. March 3.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. March 25.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1649. March 27.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1649. March 29.]

refused the service; but they believed the expedition to be a mere artifice to send the discontented out of the kingdom; and they asserted that by their engagement on Triploe Heath they could not conscientiously move a step till the liberties of the nation were settled on a permanent basis. The first act of mutiny occurred in Bishopsgate. A troop of horse refused to obey their colonel; and, instead of marching out of the city, took possession of the colours. Of these, five were condemned to be shot; but one only, by name Lockyer, suffered. At his burial a thousand men, in files, preceded the corpse, which was adorned with bunches of rosemary dipped in blood; on each side rode three trumpeters, and behind was led the trooper's horse, covered with mourning; some thousands of men and women followed with black and green ribbons on their heads and breasts, and were received at the grave by a numerous crowd of the inhabitants of London and Westminster. This extraordinary funeral convinced the leaders how widely the discontent was spread, and urged them to the immediate adoption of the most decisive measures.[1]

The regiments of Scrope, Ireton, Harrison, Ingoldsby, Skippon, Reynolds, and Horton, though quartered in different places, had already[a] elected their agents, and published their resolution to adhere to each other, when the house commissioned Fairfax to reduce the mutineers, ordered Skippon to secure the capital from surprise, and declared it treason for soldiers to conspire the death of the general or lieutenant-general, or for any person to endeavour to alter the government, or to affirm that the parliament or council of state was either tyrannical or unlawful.[2]

[Footnote 1: Walker, 161. Whitelock, 399.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, May 1, 14. Whitelock, 399.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. May 7.]

At Banbury, in Oxfordshire, a Captain Thompson, at the head of two hundred men, published a manifesto, entitled "England's Standard Advanced," in which he declared that, if Lilburne, or his fellow-prisoners, were ill-treated, their sufferings should he avenged seventy times seven-fold upon their persecutors. His object was to unite some of the discontented regiments; but Colonel Reynolds surprised him at Banbury, and prevailed on his followers to surrender without loss of blood.[1] Another party, consisting of ten troops of horse, and more than a thousand strong, proceeded from Salisbury to Burford, augmenting their numbers as they advanced. Fairfax and Cromwell, after a march of more than forty miles during the day, arrived soon afterwards,[a] and ordered their followers to take refreshment. White had been sent to the insurgents with an offer of pardon on their submission; whether he meant to deceive them or not, is uncertain; he represented the pause on the part of the general as time allowed them to consult and frame their demands; and at the hour of midnight, while they slept in security, Cromwell forced his way into the town, with two thousand men, at one entrance, while Colonel Reynolds, with a strong body, opposed their exit by the other. Four hundred of the mutineers were made prisoners, and the arms and horses of double that number were taken. One cornet and two corporals suffered death; the others, after a short imprisonment, were restored to their former regiments.[2]

This decisive advantage disconcerted all the plans of the mutineers. Some partial risings in the

[Footnote 1: Walker, ii. 168. Whitelock, 401.]

[Footnote 2: King's Pamphlets, No. 421, xxii.; 422, i. Whitelock, 402.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. May 14.]

counties of Hants, Devon, and Somerset were quickly suppressed; and Thompson, who had escaped[a] from Banbury and retired to Wellingborough, being deserted by his followers, refused quarter, and fell[b] fighting singly against a host of enemies.[1] To express the national gratitude for this signal deliverance, a day of thanksgiving was appointed; the parliament, the council of State, and the council of the army assembled[c] at Christ-church; and, after the religious service of the day, consisting of two long sermons and appropriate prayers, proceeded to Grocer's Hall, where they dined by invitation from the city. The speaker Lenthall, the organ of the supreme authority, like former kings, received the sword of state from the mayor, and delivered it to him again. At table, he was seated at the head, supported on his right hand by the lord general, and on the left by Bradshaw, the president of the council; thus exhibiting to the guests the representatives of the three bodies by which the nation was actually governed. At the conclusion of the dinner, the lord mayor presented one thousand pounds in gold to Fairfax in a basin and ewer of the same metal, and five hundred pounds, with a complete service of plate, to Cromwell.[2]

The suppression of the mutiny afforded leisure to the council to direct its attention to the proceedings in Scotland and Ireland. In the first of these kingdoms, after the departure of Cromwell, the supreme authority had been exercised by Argyle and his party, who were supported, and at the same time controlled, by the paramount influence of the kirk. The forfeiture

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 403.]

[Footnote 2: Leicester's Journal, 74. Whitelock (406) places the guests in a different order.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. May 20.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. May 31.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. June 7.]

and excommunication of the "Engagers" left to their opponents the undisputed superiority in the parliament and all the great offices of the state. From the part which Argyle had formerly taken in the surrender of the king, his recent connection with Cromwell, and his hostility to the engagement, it was generally believed that he had acted in concert with the English Independents. But he was wary, and subtle, and flexible. At the approach of danger he could dissemble; and, whenever it suited his views, could change his measures without changing his object. At the beginning of January the fate with which Charles was menaced revived the languid affection of the Scots. A cry of indignation burst from every part of the country: he was their native king—would they suffer him to be arraigned as a criminal before a foreign tribunal? By delivering him to his enemies, they had sullied the fair fame of the nation—would they confirm this disgrace by tamely acquiescing in his death? Argyle deemed it prudent to go with the current of national feeling;[1] he suffered a committee to be appointed in parliament, and the commissioners in London received instructions to protest against the trial and condemnation of the king. But these instructions disclose the timid fluctuating policy of the man by whom they were dictated. It is vain to look in them for those warm and generous sentiments which the case demanded. They are framed with hesitation and caution; they betray a

[Footnote 1: Wariston had proposed (and Argyle had seconded him) to postpone the motion for interference in the King's behalf till the Lord had been sought by a solemn fast, but "Argyle, after he saw that it was carried by wottes in his contrarey, changed his first opinione with a faire appologey, and willed them then presently to enter on the business."—Balfour, iii. 386.]

consciousness of weakness, a fear of provoking enmity, and an attention to private interest; and they show that the protestors, if they really sought to save the life of the monarch, were yet more anxious to avoid every act or word which might give offence to his adversaries.[1]

The commissioners delivered the paper, and the Scottish parliament, instead of an answer, received the news of the king's execution. The next day the chancellor, attended by the members, proceeded to the cross in Edinburgh, and proclaimed Charles, the son of the deceased prince, king of Scotland, England, France, and Ireland.[a] But to this proclamation was appended a provision, that the young prince, before he could enter on the exercise of the royal authority, should satisfy the parliament of his adhesion both to the national covenant of Scotland, and to the solemn league and covenant between the two kingdoms.[2]

At length, three weeks after the death of the king, whose life it was intended to save, the English parliament condescended to answer the protestation of the Scots, but in a tone of contemptuous indifference, both as to the justice of their claim and the consequences of their anger.[b] Scotland, it was replied, might perhaps have no right to bring her sovereign to a public trial, but that circumstance could not affect the right of England. As the English parliament did not intend to trench on the liberties of others, it would not permit others to trench upon its own. The recollection of the evils inflicted on the nation by the misconduct of the king, and the consciousness that they

[Footnote 1: See the instructions in Balfour, iii. 383; and Clarendon, iii. 280.]

[Footnote 2: Balfour, iii. 387. Clarendon, iii. 284.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 3.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 17.]

had deserved the anger of God by their neglect to punish his offences, had induced them to bring him to justice, a course which they doubted not God had already approved, and would subsequently reward by the establishment of their liberties. The Scots had now the option of being freemen or slaves; the aid of England was offered for the vindication of their rights; if it were refused, let them beware how they entailed on themselves and their posterity the miseries of continual war with their nearest neighbour, and of slavery under the issue of a tyrant.[1]

The Scottish commissioners, in reply,[a] hinted that the present was not a full parliament; objected to any alteration in the government by king, lords, and commons; desired that no impediment should be opposed to the lawful succession of Charles II.; and ended by protesting that, if such things were done, the Scots were free before God and man from the guilt, the blood, the calamities, which it might cost the two kingdoms. Having delivered this paper, they hastened to Gravesend. Their object was to proceed to the United Provinces, and offer the Scottish crown on certain conditions to the young king. But the English leaders resolved to interrupt their mission. The answer which they had given was voted[b] a scandalous libel, framed for the purpose of exciting sedition; the commissioners were apprehended[c] at Gravesend as national offenders, and Captain Dolphin received orders to conduct them under a guard to the frontiers of Scotland.[2]

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 17, 20. Clarendon, iii. 282.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Feb. 26, 28. Whitelock, 384. Balfour, iii. 388, 389. Carte, Letters, i. 233. Dolphin received a secret instruction not to dismiss Sir John Chiesley, but to keep him as a hostage, till he knew that Mr. Rowe, the English agent in Edinburgh, was not detained.—Council Book, March 2.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Feb. 24.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 26.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. March 2.]

This insult, which, though keenly felt, was tamely borne, might retard, it could not prevent, the purposes of the Scottish parliament. The earl of Cassilis, with four new commissioners, was appointed[a] to proceed to Holland, where Charles, under the protection of his brother-in-law, the prince of Orange, had resided since the death of his father.[1] His court consisted at first of the few individuals whom that monarch had placed around him, and whom he now swore of his privy council. It was soon augmented by the earl of Lanark, who, on the death of his brother, became duke of Hamilton, the earl of Lauderdale, and the earl of Callendar, the chiefs of the Scottish Engagers; these were followed by the ancient Scottish royalists, Montrose, Kinnoul, and Seaforth, and in a few days appeared Cassilis, with his colleagues, and three deputies from the church of Scotland, who brought with them news not likely to insure them a gracious reception, that the parliament, at the petition of the kirk, had sent to the scaffold[b] the old marquess of Huntley, forfaulted for his adhesion to the royal cause in the year 1645. All professed to have in view the same object—the restoration of the young king; but all were divided and alienated from each other by civil and religious bigotry. By the commissioners, the Engagers, and by both, Montrose and his friends, were shunned as traitors to their country, and sinners excommunicated by the kirk. Charles was perplexed by the conflicting opinions of these several advisers. Both the commissioners and Engagers, hostile as they were to each

[Footnote 1: Whatever may have been the policy of Argyle, he most certainly promoted this mission, and "overswayed the opposition to it by his reason, authority, and diligence,"—Baillie, ii. 353.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. March 17.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. March 26.]

other, represented his taking of the covenant as an essential condition; while Montrose and his English counsellors contended that it would exasperate the Independents, offend the friends of episcopacy, and cut off all hope of aid from the Catholics, who could not be expected to hazard their lives in support of a prince sworn to extirpate their religion.[1]

While the question was yet in debate, an event happened to hasten the departure of Charles from the Hague. Dr. Dorislaus, a native of Holland, but formerly a professor of Gresham College, and recently employed to draw the charge against the king, arrived as envoy from the parliament to the States.[a] That very evening, while he sat at supper in the inn, six gentlemen with drawn swords entered the room, dragged him from his chair, and murdered him on the floor.[2] Though the assassins were suffered to escape, it was soon known that they were Scotsmen, most of them followers of Montrose; and Charles, anticipating the demand of justice from the English parliament, gave his final answer to the commissioners, that he was, and always had been, ready to provide for the security of their religion, the union between the kingdoms, and the internal peace and prosperity of Scotland; but that their other demands were irreconcilable with his conscience, his liberty, and his honour.[b] They

[Footnote 1: Clar. iii. 287-292. Baillie, ii. 333. Carte, Letters, i. 238-263. In addition to the covenant, the commissioners required the banishment of Montrose, from which they were induced to recede, and the limitation of the king's followers to one hundred persons.—Carte, Letters, i. 264, 265, 266, 268, 271.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon, iii. 293. Whitelock, 401. Journals, May 10. The parliament settled two hundred pounds per annum on the son, and gave five hundred pounds to each of the daughters of Dorislaus.—Ib. May 16. Two hundred and fifty pounds was given towards his funeral.—Council Book, May 11.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. May 3.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. May 19.]

acknowledged that he was their king; it was, therefore, their duty to obey, maintain, and defend him; and the performance of this duty he should expect from the committee of estates, the assembly of the kirk, and the whole nation of Scotland. They departed with this unsatisfactory answer; and Charles, leaving the United Provinces, hastened to St. Germain in France, to visit the queen his mother, with the intention of repairing, after a short stay, to the army of the royalists in Ireland.[1]

That the reader may understand the state of Ireland, he must look back to the period when the despair or patriotism of Ormond surrendered to the parliament the capital of that kingdom.[a] The nuncio, Rinuccini, had then seated himself in the chair of the president of the supreme council at Kilkenny; but his administration was soon marked by disasters, which enabled his rivals to undermine and subvert his authority.[b] The Catholic army of Leinster, under Preston, was defeated on Dungan Hill by Jones, the governor of Dublin, and that of Munster, under the Viscount Taafe, at Clontarf, by the Lord Inchiquin.[2][c] To Rinuccini

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iii. 405; and the Proceedings of the Commissioners of the Church and Kingdoms of Scotland with his Majestie at the Hague. Edinburgh, printed by Evan Tyler, 1649.]

[Footnote 2: Rushworth, 833, 916. In the battle of Dungan Hill, at the first charge the Commander of the Irish cavalry was slain: his men immediately fled; the infantry repelled several charges, and retired into a bog, where they offered to capitulate. Colonel Flower said he had no authority to grant quarter, but at the same time ordered his men to stand to their arms, and preserved the lives of the earl of Westmeath, Lieutenant-General Bryne, and several officers and soldiers who repaired to his colours. "In the mean time the Scotch colonel Tichburn, and Colonel Moor, of Bankhall's regiments, without mercy put the rest to the sword." They amounted to between three and four thousand men.—Belling's History of the late Warre in Ireland, MS. ii. 95. I mention this instance to show that Cromwell did not introduce the practice of massacre. He followed his predecessors, whose avowed object it was to exterminate the natives.]]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. July.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. August 2.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. Nov. 13.]

himself these misfortunes appeared as benefits, for he distrusted Preston and Taafe on account of their attachment to Ormond; and their depression served to exalt his friend and protector, Owen Roe O'Neil, the leader of the men of Ulster. But from such beginnings the nation at large anticipated a succession of similar calamities; his adversaries obtained a majority in the general assembly; and the nuncio, after a declaration that he advanced no claim to temporal authority, prudently avoided a forced abdication, by offering to resign his office.[a] A new council, consisting, in equal number, of men chosen out of the two parties, was appointed; and the marquess of Antrim, the Lord Muskerry, and Geoffrey Brown, were despatched to the queen mother, and her son Charles, to solicit assistance in money and arms, and to request that the prince would either come and reside in Ireland, or appoint a Catholic lieutenant in his place.[b] Antrim hoped to obtain this high office for himself; but his colleagues were instructed to oppose his pretensions and to acquiesce in the re-appointment of the marquess of Ormond.[1]

During the absence of these envoys, the Lord Inchiquin unexpectedly declared, with his army, in favour of the king against the parliament, and instantly proposed an armistice to the confederate Catholics, as friends to the royal cause. By some the overture was indignantly rejected. Inchiquin, they said, had been their most bitter enemy; he had made it his delight to shed the blood of Irishmen, and to pollute and destroy their altars. Besides, what pledge could be

[Footnote 1: Philopater Irenaeus, 50-60. Castlehaven, Memoirs, 83.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1648. Jan. 4] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1648. Feb. 27]

given for the fidelity of a man who, by repeatedly changing sides, had already shown that he would always accommodate his conscience to his interest? It were better to march against him now that he was without allies; and, when he should be subdued, Jones with the parliamentary army would necessarily fall. To this reasoning it was replied, that the expedition would require time and money; that provision for the free exercise of religion might be made in the articles; and that, at a moment when the Catholics solicited a reconciliation with the king, they could not in honour destroy those who drew the sword in his favour. In defiance of the remonstrances made by Rinuccini and eight of the bishops, the treaty proceeded;[a] and the nuncio believing, or pretending to believe, that he was a prisoner in Kilkenny, escaped in the night over the wall of the city, and was received at Maryborough with open arms by his friend O'Neil.[b] The council of the Catholics agreed to the armistice, and sought by repeated messages to remove the objections of the nuncio.[c] But zeal or resentment urged him to exceed his powers.[d] He condemned the treaty, excommunicated its abettors, and placed under an interdict the towns in which it should be admitted. But his spiritual weapons were of little avail. The council, with fourteen bishops, appealed from his censures; the forces under Taafe, Clanricard, and Preston, sent back his messengers;[e] and, on the departure of O'Neil, he repaired to the town of Galway, where he was sure of the support of the people, though in opposition to the sense of the mayor and the merchants. As a last effort, he summoned a national synod at Galway;[f] but the council protested against it; Clanricard surrounded the town with his army; and

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1648. April 27.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1648. May 9.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1648. May 22.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1648. May 27.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1648. May 31.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1648. Sept. 1.]

the inhabitants, opening the gates, made their submission.[1]

War was now openly declared between the two parties. On the one hand, Jones in Dublin, and Monk in Ulster, concluded truces with O'Neil, that he might be in a better condition to oppose the common enemy; on the other, Inchiquin joined with Preston to support the authority of the council against O'Neil. Inroads were reciprocally made; towns were taken and retaken; and large armies were repeatedly brought in face of each other. The council, however, began to assume a bolder tone:[a] they proclaimed O'Neil a rebel and traitor; and, on the tardy arrival of Ormond with the commission of lord-lieutenant, sent to Rinuccini himself an order to quit the kingdom,[b] with the information that they had accused him to the pope of certain high crimes and misdemeanors.[2]

[Footnote 1: See Desiderata Cur. Hib. ii. 511; Carte, ii. 20, 31-36; Belling, in his MS. History of the late War in Ireland, part iv. 1-40. He has inserted most of the papers which passed between the parties in this work. See also Philopater Irenaeus, i. 60, 86; ii. 90, 94; Walsh, History and Vindication, App. 33-40; Ponce, 90.]

[Footnote 2: The charge may be seen in Philopater Iren. i. 150-160; Clarendon, viii. 68. Oxford, 1726. It is evident that the conduct of Rinuccini in breaking the first peace was not only reprehensible in itself, but productive of the most calamitous consequences both to the cause of royalty and the civil and religious interests of the Irish Catholics. The following is the ground on which he attempts to justify himself. Laying it down as an undeniable truth that the Irish people had as good a right to the establishment of their religion in their native country, as the Covenanters in Scotland, or the Presbyterians in England, he maintains that it was his duty to make this the great object of his proceedings. When the peace was concluded, Charles was a prisoner in the hands of the Scots, who had solemnly sworn to abolish the Catholic religion; and the English royalists had been subdued by the parliament, which by repeated votes and declarations had bound itself to extirpate the Irish race, and parcel out the island among foreign adventurers. Now there was no human probability that Charles would ever be restored to his throne, but on such conditions as the parliament and the Scots should prescribe; and that, on their demand, he would, after some struggle, sacrifice the Irish Catholics, was plain from what had passed in his different negotiations with the parliament, from his disavowal of Glamorgan's commission, and from the obstinacy with which his lieutenant, Ormond, had opposed the claims of the confederates. Hence he inferred that a peace, which left the establishment of religion to the subsequent determination of the king, afforded no security, but, on the contrary, was an abandonment of the cause for which the Catholics had associated; and that it therefore became him, holding the situation which he did, to oppose it by every means in his power.—MS. narrative of Rinuccini's proceedings, written to be delivered to the pope; and Ponce, 271.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1648. Sept. 3.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1648. Oct. 19.]

But he continued to issue his mandates in defiance of their orders and threats; nor was it till after the new pacification between Charles and the confederates had been published, and the execution of the king had fixed the public opinion on the pernicious result of his counsels,[a] that shame and apprehension drove him from Ireland to France,[b] whence, after a few months, he was recalled to Rome.

The negotiation between Ormond and the Catholics had continued for three months;[c] in January the danger which threatened the royal person induced the latter to recede from their claims, and trust to the future gratitude and honour of their sovereign. They engaged to maintain at their own expense an army of seventeen thousand five hundred men, to be employed against the common enemy; and the king, on his part, consented that the free exercise of the Catholic worship should be permitted; that twelve commissioners of trust appointed by the assembly should aid the lord-lieutenant in the internal administration; that the Court of Wards and several other grievances should be abolished; that a parliament should be called as soon as the majority of commissioners might deem it expedient, and in that parliament the persecuting laws on the subject of religion, with others injurious to the trade and commerce

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Jan. 17.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Jan. 30.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. Feb. 23.]

of Ireland, should be repealed, and the independence of the Irish on the English parliament should be established.[1]

The royal interest was now predominant in Ireland. The fleet under Prince Rupert rode triumphant off the coast; the parliamentary commanders, Jones in Dublin, Monk in Belfast, and Coote in Londonderry, were almost confined within the limits of their respective garrisons; and Inchiquin in Munster, the Scottish regiments in Ulster, and the great body of the Catholics adhering to the supreme council, had proclaimed the king, and acknowledged the authority of his lieutenant. It was during this favourable state of things that Charles received and accepted the invitation of Ormond;[a] but his voyage was necessarily delayed through want of money, and his ardour was repeatedly checked by the artful insinuation of some among his counsellors, who secretly feared that, if he were once at the head of a Catholic army, he would listen to the demands of the Catholics for the establishment of their religion.[2] On the contrary, to the leaders in London, the danger of losing Ireland became a source of the most perplexing solicitude. The office of lord lieutenant was offered to Cromwell.[b] He affected to hesitate; at his request two officers from each corps received orders to meet him at Whitehall, and seek the Lord in prayer;[c] and, after a delay of two weeks, he condescended to submit his shoulders to the burthen, because he had now learned that it was the will of Heaven.[3][d] Hi demands,

[Footnote 1: Phil. Iren. i. 166. Walsh, App. 43-64. Whitelock, 391. Charles approved and promised to observe this peace.—Carte's Letters, ii. 367.]

[Footnote 2: Carte, Letters, i. 258, 262.]

[Footnote 3: Journals, March 30. Whitelock, 389, 391, 392.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. March 29.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. March 15.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. March 23.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. March 29.]

however, were so numerous, the preparations to be made so extensive, that it was necessary to have recourse in the interval to other expedients for the preservation of the forces and places which still admitted the authority of the parliament. One of these was to allure to the cause of the Independents the Catholics of the two kingdoms; for which purpose, the sentiments of Sir Kenelm Digby and Sir John Winter were sounded,[a] and conferences were held, through the agency of the Spanish ambassador, with O'Reilly and Quin, two Irish ecclesiastics.[b] It was proposed that toleration should be granted for the exercise of the Catholic worship, without any penal disqualifications, and that the Catholics in return should disclaim the temporal pretensions of the pope, and maintain ten thousand men for the service of the commonwealth.

In aid of this project, Digby, Winter, and the Abbe Montague were suffered to come to England under the pretence of compounding for their estates; and the celebrated Thomas White, a secular clergyman, published a work entitled "The Grounds of Obedience and Government," to show that the people may be released from their obedience to the civil magistrate by his misconduct; and that, when he is once deposed (whether justly or unjustly makes no difference), it may be for the common interest to acquiesce in his removal, rather than attempt his restoration.

That this doctrine was satisfactory to the men in power, cannot be doubted; but they had so often reproached the late king with a coalition with the papists, that they dared not to make the experiment, and after some time, to blind perhaps the eyes of the people, severe votes were passed against

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. March.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. April.]

Digby, Montague, and Winter, and orders were given for the apprehension of priests and Jesuits.[1]

In Ireland an attempt was made to fortify the parliamentary party with the friendly aid of O'Neil.[a] That chieftain had received proposals from Ormond, but his jealousy of the commissioners of trusts, his former adversaries, provoked him to break off the treaty with the lord lieutenant,[b] and to send a messenger of his own with a tender of his services to Charles.[c] Immediately the earl of Castlehaven, by order of Ormond, attacked and reduced his garrisons of Maryborough and Athy;[d] and O'Neil, in revenge, listened to the suggestions of Monk, who had retired before the superior force of the Scottish royalists from Belfast to Dundalk.[e] A cessation of hostilities was concluded for three months;[f] and the proposals of the Irish chieftain, modified by Monk, were transmitted to England for the ratification of parliament. By the "grandees" it was thought imprudent to submit them to an examination, which would make them public; but the answer returned satisfied the contracting parties:[g] Monk supplied O'Neil with ammunition, and O'Neil undertook to intercept the communication between the Scottish regiments of the north and the grand army under Ormond in the heart of the kingdom.[2]

[Footnote 1: On this obscure subject may be consulted Walker, ii. 150; Carte's Collection of Letters, i. 216, 219, 221, 222, 224, 267, 272, 297; ii. 363, 364; and the Journals, Aug. 31.]

[Footnote 2: O'Neil demanded liberty of conscience for himself, his followers, and their posterity; the undisturbed possession of their lands, as long as they remained faithful to the parliament; and, in return for his services, the restoration of his ancestor's estate, or an equivalent. (See both his draft, and the corrected copy by Monk, in Philop. Iren. i. 191, and in Walker, ii. 233-238.) His agent, on his arrival in London, was asked by the grandees why he applied to them, and refused to treat with Ormond. He replied, because the late king had always made them fair promises; but, when they had done him service, and he could make better terms with their enemies, had always been ready to sacrifice them. Why then did not O'Neil apply to the parliament sooner? Because the men in power then had sworn to extirpate them; but those in power now professed toleration and liberty of conscience.—Ludlow, i. 255. The agreement made with him by Monk was rejected (Aug. 10), because, if we believe Ludlow, the Ulster men had been the chief actors in the murder of the English, and liberty of religion would prove dangerous to public peace. But this rejection happened much later. It is plain that Jones, Monk, Coote, and O'Neil understood that the agreement would be ratified, though it was delayed.—Walker, ii 198, 231, 245. See King's Pamphlets, 428, 435, 437.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. August 31.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Feb. 20.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. March 16.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. March 21.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1649. April 25.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1649. May 8.] [Sidenote g: A.D. 1649. May 22.]

Though the parliament had appointed Cromwell lord lieutenant of Ireland, and vested the supreme authority, both civil and military, in his person for three years, he was still unwilling to hazard his reputation, and his prospects in a dangerous expedition without the adequate means of success.[a] Out of the standing army of forty-five thousand men, with whose aid England was now governed, he demanded a force of twelve thousand veterans, with a plentiful supply of provisions and military stores, and the round sum of one hundred thousand pounds in ready money.[1] On the day of his departure, his friends assembled at Whitehall; three ministers solemnly invoked the blessing of God on the arms of his saints; and three officers, Goff, Harrison and the lord lieutenant himself, expounded the scriptures "excellently well, and pertinently to the occasion."[b] After these outpourings of the spirit, Cromwell mounted his carriage, drawn by six horses. He was accompanied by the great officers of state and of the army; his life-guard, eighty young men, all of quality, and several holding

[Footnote 1: Cromwell received three thousand pounds for his outfit, ten pounds per day as general while he remained in England, and two thousand pounds per quarter in Ireland, besides his salary as lord lieutenant.—Council Book, July 12, No, 10.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. June 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. July 10.]

commissions as majors and colonels, delighted the spectators with their splendid uniforms and gallant bearing; and the streets of the metropolis resounded, as he drove towards Windsor, with the acclamations of the populace and the clangour of military music.[1] It had been fixed that the expedition should sail from Milford Haven; but the impatience of the general was checked by the reluctance and desertion of his men. The recent transaction between Monk and O'Neil had diffused a spirit of distrust through the army. It was pronounced an apostasy from the principles on which they had fought. The exaggerated horrors of the massacre in 1641 were recalled to mind; the repeated resolutions of parliament to extirpate the native Irish, and the solemn engagement of the army to revenge the blood which had been shed, were warmly discussed; and the invectives of the leaders against the late king, when he concluded a peace with the confederate Catholics, were contrasted with their present backsliding, when they had taken the men of Ulster for their associates and for their brethren in arms. To appease the growing discontent, parliament annulled the agreement. Monk, who had returned to England, was publicly assured that, if he escaped the punishment of his indiscretion, it was on account of his past services and good intentions. Peters from the pulpit employed his eloquence to remove the blame from the grandees; and, if we may judge from the sequel, promises were made, not only that the good cause should be supported, but that the duty of revenge should be amply discharged.[2]

While the army was thus detained in the neighbourhood

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 413. Leicester's Journal, 76.]

[Footnote 2: Walker, ii. 230, 243. Whitelock, 416. Leicester's Journal, 82.]

of Milford Haven, Jones, in Dublin, reaped the laurels which Cromwell had destined for himself. The royal army advanced on both banks of the Liffy to the siege of that capital;[a] and Ormond, from his quarters at Finglass, ordered certain works to be thrown up at a place called Bogatrath. His object was to exclude the horse of the garrison from the only pasturage in their possession; but by some mishap, the working party did not reach the spot till an hour before sunrise; and Jones, sallying from the walls, overpowered the guard, and raised an alarm in the camp.[b] The confusion of the royalists encouraged him to follow up his success. Regiment after regiment was beaten: it was in vain that Ormond, aroused from his sleep, flew from post to post; the different corps acted without concert; a general panic ensued, and the whole army on the right bank fled in every direction. The artillery, tents, baggage, and ammunition fell into the hands of the conquerors, with two thousand prisoners, three hundred of whom were massacred in cold blood at the gate of the city. This was called the battle of Rathmines, a battle which destroyed the hopes of the Irish royalists, and taught men to doubt the abilities of Ormond. At court, his enemies ventured to hint suspicions of treason; but Charles, to silence their murmurs and assure him of the royal favour, sent him the order of the garter.[1][c]

The news of this important victory[d] hastened the

[Footnote 1: King's Pamphlets, No. 434, xxi. Whitelock, 410, 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9. Clarendon, viii. 92, 93. Carte, Letters, ii. 394, 402, 408. Baillie, ii. 346. Ludlow, i. 257, 258. Ormond, before his defeat, confidently predicted the fall of Dublin (Carte, letters, ii. 383, 389, 391); after it, he repeatedly asserts that Jones, to magnify his own services, makes the royalists amount to eighteen, whereas, in reality, they were only eight, thousand men.—Ibid. 402, 413.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. August 1.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. August 2.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. August 13.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. August 18.]

departure of Cromwell. He sailed from Milford with a single division; his son-in-law, Ireton, followed with the remainder of the army, and a fortnight was allowed to the soldiers to refresh themselves after their voyage. The campaign was opened with the siege of Drogheda.[a] Ormond had thrown into the town a garrison of two thousand five hundred chosen men, under the command of Sir Arthur Aston, an officer who had earned a brilliant reputation by his services to the royal cause in England during the civil war. On the eighth day a sufficient breach had been effected in the wall:[b] the assailants on the first attempt were driven back with immense loss. They returned a second, perhaps a third, time to the assault, and their perseverance was at last crowned with success. But strong works with ramparts and pallisades had been constructed within the breach, from which the royalists might have long maintained a sanguinary and perhaps doubtful conflict. These entrenchments, however, whether the men were disheartened by a sudden panic, or deceived by offers of quarter—for both causes have been assigned—the enemy was suffered to occupy without resistance. Cromwell (at what particular moment is uncertain) gave orders that no one belonging to the garrison should be spared; and Aston, his officers and men, having been previously disarmed, were put to the sword. From thence the conquerors, stimulated by revenge and fanaticism, directed their fury against the townsmen, and on the next morning one thousand unresisting victims were immolated together within the walls of the great church, whither they had fled for protection.[1][c]

[Footnote 1: See Carte's Ormond, ii. 84; Carte, Letters, iv. 412; Philop. Iren. i. 120; Whitelock, 428; Ludlow, i. 261; Lynch, Cambrensis Eversos, in fine; King's Pamph. 441, 447; Ormond in Carte's Letters, ii. 412; and Cromwell in Carlyle's Letters and Speeches, i. 457.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Sept. 3.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. Sept. 11.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. Sept. 12.]

From Drogheda the conqueror led his men, flushed with slaughter, to the seige of Wexford. The mayor and governor offered to capitulate; but whilst their commissioners were treating with Cromwell, an officer perfidiously opened the castle to the enemy; the adjacent wall was immediately scaled;[a] and, after a stubborn but unavailing resistance in the market-place, Wexford was abandoned to the mercy of the assailants. The tragedy, so recently acted at Drogheda, was renewed. No distinction was made between the defenceless inhabitant and the armed soldier; nor could the shrieks and prayers of three hundred females, who had gathered round the great cross, preserve them from the swords of these ruthless barbarians. By Cromwell himself, the number of the slain is reduced to two, by some writers it has been swelled to five, thousand.[1]

Ormond, unable to interrupt the bloody career of his adversary, waited with impatience for the determination of O'Neil. Hitherto that chieftain had faithfully performed his engagements with the parliamentary commanders. He had thrown impediments in the way of the royalists; he had compelled Montgomery to raise the siege of Londonderry, and had rescued Coote and his small army, the last hope of the parliament in Ulster, from the fate which seemed to await them. At first the leaders in London had hesitated, now after the victory of Rathmines they publicly refused, to ratify the treaties made with him by their officers.[2] Stung

[Footnote 1: See note (D).]

[Footnote 2: Council Book, Aug. 6, No. 67, 68, 69, 70. Journals, Aug. 10, 24. Walker, ii. 245-248. King's Pamphlets, No. 435, xi.; 437, xxxiii. The reader must not confound this Owen Roe O'Neil with another of the same name, one of the regicides, who claimed a debt of five thousand and sixty-five pounds seventeen shillings and sixpence of the parliament, and obtained an order for it to be paid out of the forfeited lands in Ireland.—Journ. 1653, Sept. 9.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Oct 12.]

with indignation, O'Neil accepted the offers of Ormond, and marched from Londonderry to join the royal army; but his progress was retarded by sickness, and he died at Clocknacter in Cavan. His officers, however, fulfilled his intentions; the arrival of the men of Ulster revived the courage of their associates; and the English general was successively foiled in his attempts upon Duncannon and Waterford. His forces already began to suffer from the inclemency of the season, when Lord Broghill, who had lately returned from England, debauched the fidelity of the regiments under Lord Inchiquin. The garrisons of Cork, Youghal, Bandon, and Kinsale declared for the parliament, and Cromwell seized the opportunity to close the campaign and place his followers in winter quarters.[1]

But inactivity suited not his policy or inclination. After seven weeks of repose he again summoned them into the field;[a] and at the head of twenty thousand men, well appointed and disciplined, confidently anticipated the entire conquest of Ireland. The royalists were destitute of money, arms, and ammunition; a pestilential disease, introduced with the cargo of a ship from Spain, ravaged their quarters; in the north, Charlemont alone acknowledged the royal authority; in Leinster and Munster, almost every place of importance had been wrested from them by force or perfidy; and even in Connaught, their last refuge, internal dissension prevented that union which alone could save them from utter destruction. Their misfortunes called into

[Footnote 1: Phil. Iren. i. 231. Carte's Ormond, ii. 102. Desid. Curios. Hib. ii. 521.]

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

action the factions which had lain dormant since the departure of the nuncio. The recent treachery of Inchiquin's forces had engendered feelings of jealousy and suspicion; and many contended that it was better to submit at once to the conqueror than to depend on the doubtful fidelity of the lord lieutenant. Cromwell met with little resistance: wherever he came, he held out the promise of life and liberty of conscience;[1] but the rejection of the offer, though it were afterwards accepted, was punished with the blood of the officers; and, if the place were taken by force, with indiscriminate slaughter.[2] Proceeding on this plan, one day granting quarter, another putting the leaders only to the sword, and on the next immolating the whole garrison, hundreds of human beings at a time, he quickly reduced most of the towns and castles in the three counties of Limerick, Tipperary, and Kilkenny. But this bloody policy at length recoiled upon its author. Men, with no alternative but victory or death, learned to fight with the energy of despair. At the siege of Kilkenny the assailants, though twice repulsed from the breach, were, by the timidity of some of the inhabitants,

[Footnote 1: Liberty of conscience he explained to mean liberty of internal belief, not of external worship.—See his letter in Phil. Iren. i. 270.]

[Footnote 2: The Irish commanders disdained to imitate the cruelty of their enemies. "I took," says Lord Castlehaven, "Athy by storm, with all the garrison (seven hundred men) prisoners. I made a present of them to Cromwell, desiring him by letter that he would do the like with me, as any of mine should fall in his power. But he little valued my civility. For, in a few days after, he besieged Gouvan; and the soldiers mutinying, and giving up the place with their officers, he caused the governor, Hammond, and some other officers, to be put to death."—Castlehaven, 107. Ormond also says, in one of his letters, "the next day Rathfarnham was taken by storm, and all that were in it made prisoners; and though five hundred soldiers entered the castle before any officer of note, yet not one creature was killed; which I tell you by the way, to observe the difference betwixt our and the rebels making use of a victory."—Carte, Letters, ii. 408.]

admitted within the walls; yet, so obstinate was the resistance of the garrison, that, to spare his own men, the general consented to grant them honourable terms. From Kilkenny he proceeded to the town of Clonmel,[a] where Hugh, the son of the deceased O'Neil, commanded with one thousand two hundred of the best troops of Ulster. The duration of the siege exhausted his patience; the breach was stormed a second time; and, after a conflict of four hours, the English were driven back with considerable loss.[b] The garrison, however, had expended their ammunition; they took advantage of the confusion of the enemy to depart during the darkness of the night; and the townsmen the next morning, keeping the secret, obtained from Cromwell a favourable capitulation.[1][c] This was his last exploit in Ireland. From Clonmel he was recalled to England to undertake a service of greater importance and difficulty, to which the reader must now direct his attention.

The young king, it will be remembered, had left the Hague on his circuitous route to Ireland, whither he had been called by the advice of Ormond and the wishes of the royalists.[d] He was detained three months at St. Germains by the charms of a mistress or the intrigues of his courtiers, nor did he reach the island of Jersey till long after the disastrous battle of Rathmines.[e] That event made his further progress a matter of serious discussion; and the difficulty was increased by the arrival of Wynram of Libertoun, with addresses from the parliament and the kirk of Scotland.[f] The first offered, on his acknowledgment of their authority as a parliament, to treat with him respecting the

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 449, 456. Castlehaven, 108. Ludlow, i. 265. Perfect Politician, 70.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. March 28.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. May 8.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. May 10.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. June.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1649. September.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1649. October.]

conditions proposed by their former commissioners; but the latter, in language unceremonious and insulting, laid before him the sins of his youth; his refusal to allow the Son of God to reign over him in the pure ordinances of church government and worship; his cleaving to counsellors who never had the glory of God or the good of his people before their eyes; his admission to his person of that "fugacious man and excommunicate rebel, James Graham" and, above all, "his giving the royal power and strength to the beast," by concluding a peace "with the Irish papists, the murderers of so many Protestants." They bade him remember the iniquities of his father's house, and be assured that, unless he laid aside the "service-book, so stuffed with Romish corruptions, for the reformation of doctrine and worship agreed upon by the divines at Westminster," and approved of the covenant in his three kingdoms, without which the people could have no security for their religion or liberty, he would find that the Lord's anger was not turned away, but that his hand was still stretched against the royal person and his family.[1]

This coarse and intemperate lecture was not calculated to make a convert of a young and spirited prince. Instead of giving an answer, he waited to ascertain the opinion of Ormond; and at last, though inclination prompted him to throw himself into the arms of his Irish adherents, he reluctantly submitted to the authority of that officer, who declared, that the only way to preserve Ireland was by provoking a war between England and Scotland[2]. Charles now condescended[a]

[Footnote 1: Clar. State Papers, iii. App. 89-92. Carte's Letters, i. 323. Whitelock, 439. The address of the kirk was composed by Mr. Wood, and disapproved by the more moderate.—Baillie, ii. 339, 345.]

[Footnote 2: Carte's Letters, i. 333, 340.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Jan. 11.]

to give to the convention the title of estates of parliament, appointed Breda, a small town, the private patrimony of the prince of Orange, for the place of treaty; and met[a] there the new commissioners, the earls of Cassilis and Lothian, with two barons, two burgesses, and three ministers. Their present scarcely differed from their former demands; nor were they less unpalatable to the king. To consent to them appeared to him an apostasy from the principles for which his father fought and died; an abandonment of the Scottish friends of his family to the mercy of his and their enemies. On the other hand, the prince of Orange importuned him to acquiesce; many of his counsellors suggested that, if he were once on the throne, he might soften or subdue the obstinacy of the Scottish parliament; and his mother, by her letters, exhorted him not to sacrifice to his feelings this his last resource, the only remaining expedient for the recovery of his three kingdoms. But the king had still another resource; he sought delays; his eyes were fixed on the efforts of his friends in the north of Scotland; and he continued to indulge a hope of being replaced without conditions on the ancient throne of his ancestors.[1]

Before the king left St. Germains[b] he had given to Montrose a commission to raise the royal standard in Scotland. The fame of that nobleman secured to him a gracious reception from the northern sovereigns; he visited each court in succession; and in all obtained permission to levy men, and received aid either in money or in military stores. In autumn he despatched the first expedition of twelve thousand men from