his declared enemies, but now acted as auxiliaries to the English parliament. He left Oxford, however, and retired to their camp before Newark. The Scottish generals and commissioners affected great surprise at the appearance of Charles, though previously acquainted with his design; and while they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity, and appointed him a guard, under pretence of protecting him, they made him in reality a prisoner.(1)

The next step which the Scots took, in regard to the unfortunate monarch, was, to assure the English parliament that they had entered into no treaty with the king, and that his arrival among them was altogether unexpected. Sensible, however, of the value of their prisoner, and alarmed at some motions of the English army, they thought proper to retire northward, and fixed their camp at Newcastle. This movement was highly agreeable to Charles, who now began to entertain the most sanguine hopes of protection from the Scots. But he soon found cause to alter his opinion; and had, in the mean time, little reason to be pleased with his situation. All his friends were kept at a distance, and all correspondence with them was prohibited; and the covenanters, after insulting him from the pulpit, and engaging him, by deceitful or unavailing negotiations, to disarm his adherents in both kingdoms, agreed to deliver him up to the English parliament, on condition of being paid their arrears, which were compounded at four hundred thousand pounds sterling.(2) The king was accordingly put into the hands of the parliamentary commissioners, and conducted under a guard to Holmby, in the county of Northampton.

The civil war was now over. The Scots returned to their own country, and every one submitted to the authority of the ruling powers. But the dominion of the parliament was of short duration. No sooner was the king subdued, than the division between the presbyterians and independents became every day more evident; and as nothing remained to confine the wild projects of zeal and ambition, after the sacred boundaries of law had been violated, the independents, who, in consequence of the self-denying ordinance, had obtained the command of the army, solaced themselves with the prospect of a new revolution. Such a revolution as they desired was accomplished by the assistance of the military power, which tumbled the parliament from its slippery throne.

The manner in which this revolution was effected it must now be our business to examine, and to notice the most striking circumstances that accompanied it. The presbyterians still retained the superiority among the commons, and all the peers, except lord Say, were esteemed of that party; but the independents, to whom the inferior sectaries adhered, predominated in the army, and the troops on the new establishment were universally infected with that enthusiastic spirit. Aware of this, as well as that their antagonists trusted to the sword, in their projects for acquiring an ascendant, the presbyterian party in parliament, under pretence of easing the public burdens, obtained a vote for disbanding one part of the army, and for sending another part of it into Ireland, in order to subdue the rebels in that kingdom.(3)

The army had small inclination to the service of Ireland, a barbarous country laid waste by massacres, and still less to disband. Most of the offieers, having risen from the lowest conditions, were alarmed at the thought of returning to their original poverty, at a time when they hoped to enjoy, in ease and tranquillity, that pay which they had earned through so many dangers and fatigues. They entered into mutinous combinations; and the two houses of parliament, under apprehensions for their own safety, inconsiderately sent Cromwell, Ireton, and Fleetwood, the secret authors of all these discontents, to make offers to the army, and inquire into the cause of its distempers.

(1) Rushworth, vol. vii. Clarendon, vol. v.

(2) Rushworth, vol. vii. Parl. Hist. vol. xv. The infamy of this transaction had such an effect on the members of the Scottish parliament, that they voted the king should be protected, and his liberty insisted on. But the general assembly interposed, and declared, that as he had refused to take the Covenant, which was pressed on him, it became not the godly to concern themselves about his future welfare. And after this declaration, it behooved the parliament to retract its vote. (Parl. Hist. vol. xv. p. 244.) Such influence had the presbyterian clergy in those days! (3) Rushworth, vol. vil

This was the crisis for Cromwell to lay the foundation of his future greatness; and he did not fail to take advantage of it. By his suggestion, a measure was embraced, which at once brought matters to extremity, and rendered the mutiny incurable. In opposition to the parliament at Westminster, a kind of military parliament was formed; consisting, first, of a council of the principal officers, in imitation of the house of peers; and next, of a more free representation of the army, by the election of two private men or inferior officers, under the title of agitators, from each troop or company.(1) This terrible consistory declared, that they found no distempers in the army, but many grievances; and immediately voted the offers of the parliament unsatisfactory.(2)

The two houses of parliament made one more trial of their authority; they voted, that all the troops that did not engage to serve in Ireland should instantly be disbanded in their quarters. In answer to this vote, the council of the army, which was entirely governed by Cromwell, commanded a general rendezvous of all the regiments, in order to provide for their common interests. And at the same time that they thus prepared themselves for opposition to the parliament, they struck a blow, which at once decided the victory in their favour. They sent to Holmby, where the king was still confined, a party of horse, under cornet Joyce, a famous agitator; and this rough soldier, rudely entering the royal apartment, and pointing to his troopers when asked for his authority, conducted the astonished monarch to the rendezvous of the army at Triplo-heath, near Cambridge.(3)

The parliament, when informed of this event, were thrown into the utmost consternation. Nor was Fairfax, the general, who was totally ignorant of the enterprise of Joyce, a little surprised at the arrival of his sovereign. That bold measure had been solely concerted by Cromwell; who, by seizing the king's person, and thus depriving the parliament of any means of accommodation with him, hoped to be able to dictate to them, in the name of the army, what conditions he thought proper. He accordingly engaged Fairfax, over whom he had acquired the most absolute ascendant, to advance with the troops to St. Alban's, in order to overawe the deliberations of the two houses. This movement had the desired effect. The resolution, by which the military petitioners had been declared public enemies, was recalled ;(4) and the army, hoping by terror alone to effect their purposes, entered into a negotiation with their masters, without advancing any nearer to the capital.

In that negotiation, the advantages were greatly in favour of the army. They had not only the sword in their hand, but the parliament was now become the object of general hatred and aversion, as much as ever it had been the idol of superstitious veneration. The self-denying ordinance, introduced only to serve a temporary purpose, was soon laid aside, by tacit consent; and the members, sharing all offices of power and profit among them, proceeded with impunity in oppressing the helpless people. Though near one-half the lands, rents, and revenues of the kingdom had been sequestered, the taxes and impositions were far higher than in any former period of the English government. The excise, an odious task, formerly unknown to the nation, had been introduced; and it was now extended over provisions, and the common necessaries of life. But what excited the most universal complaint was the unlimited tyranny and despotic rule of the country committees ; which could sequester, fine, imprison, and corporally punish without law or remedy.(5) They interposed even in question of private property; and, under colour of malignancy, they exercised vengeance against their private enemies.(6) Thus, my dear Philip, instead of one Star Chamber, which had been abolished, a great number were anew erected, fortified with better pretences, and armed with more unlimited authority.

The parliamentary leaders, conscious of their decay in popularity, were

(1) Rushworth, vol. vii.

(3) Clarendon, vol. v. Rushworth, vol vil.

(2) Whitlocke, p. 250.
(4) Id. ibid.

(5) Clement Walker's Hist. of Independency. Rushworth, vol. vi. Parl. Hist. vol. xv. (6) Id. ibid.

reduced to despair on the approach of the army, and the army, no less sensible of it, were thereby encouraged in their usurpations on the parliament; in which they copied exactly the model set them by the parliament itself, in its late usurpations upon the crown. They rose every day in their demands: one claim was no sooner yielded, than another, still more enormous and exorbitant, was presented. At first, they pretended only to petition for what concerned themselves as soldiers; then, they must have a vindication of their character; anon, it was necessary that their enemies should be punished; and, at last, they claimed a right of new-moulding the government, and of settling the nation. (1) They even proceeded so far as to name eleven members, the very leaders of the presbyterian party, whom, in general terms, they charged with high-treason, as enemies to the army, and even counsellors to the parliament; and they insisted, that these members should be immediately sequestered from parliament and thrown into prison. (2) The commons replied, that they could not proceed so far upon a general charge. The army produced, as precedents, the cases of Strafford and Laud; and the obnoxious members themselves, not willing to be the occasion of discord, begged leave to retire from the house.(3)

The army seemed satisfied with this proof of submission; and in order to preserve appearances, they removed, at the desire of the parliament, to a greater distance from London, and fixed their head-quarters at Reading, still carrying the king along with them. Nor was Charles displeased at this jealous watchfulness over his person. He now began to find of what consequence he was to both parties; and fortune, amid all his calamities, seemed again to flatter him. The parliament, afraid of his forming some accommodation with the army, addressed him in a more respectful style than formerly; and even invited him to reside at Richmond, and contribute his assistance towards the settlement of the nation. The chief officers of the army treated him with regard, and talked upon all occasions of restoring him to his just powers and prerogatives. Nay, the settlement of his revenue and authority was insisted on, in the public declarations of the military body; so that the royalists, every where, entertained hopes of the re-establishment of monarchy.(4)

Though the king kept his ear open to all proposals, and hoped to hold the balance between the opposite parties, he entertained more hopes of an accommodation with the army than the parliament, whose rigour he had severely felt. To this opinion he was particularly inclined, by the proposal sent from the council of officers for the settlement of the nation; in which they neither insisted on the abolition of episcopacy nor on the punishment of the royalists-the very points he had the greatest reluctance to yield, and which had rendered every former negotiation abortive. He also hoped, that, by gratifying a few persons with titles and preferments, he might draw over the whole military power, and at once reinstate himself in his civil authority. To Cromwell he offered a garter, a peerage, and the command of the army; and to Ireton, the lieutenancy of Ireland. Nor did he think that private gentlemen, by birth, could entertain more ambitious views.(5)

Cromwell, willing to keep a door open for an accommodation with the king, if the course of events should render it necessary, pretended to listen to these secret negotiations; but he continued, at the same time, his scheme of reducing the parliament to subjection, and of depriving it of all means of resistance. For this purpose, it was required, that the militia of the city of London should be changed, the presbyterian commissioners displaced, and the command restored to those who during the course of the war had constantly exercised it. The parliament complied even with so imperious a demand; hoping to find a more favourable opportunity for recovering its

(1) Rushworth, vol. vii. and viii.

(2) The names of these members were sir Philip Stapleton, sir William Lewis, sir John Clotworthy sir William Waller, sir John Maynard, Hollis, Massay, Glyn, Long, Harley, Nichols. Rushworth,

vol. vii.

(4) Rushworth, ubi sup.

VOL. II.-I

(3) Id. ibid.

(5) Parl. Hist. vol. xvi. Clarendon, vol. v. Hume, vol. vii

authority and influence. But the impatience of the city deprived that assembly of all prospect of advantage from its cautious measures, and afforded the army a plausible pretext for their concerted violence. A petition against the alteration of the militia was carried to Westminster, accompanied by a seditious multitude, who besieged the house of commons, and obliged the members to reverse the vote they had so lately passed.(1)

No sooner was intelligence of this tumult conveyed to Reading, than the army was put in motion, and marched towards the capital; in order to vindicate, as they said, the invaded privileges of parliament against the seditious citizens, and restore that assembly to its just freedom of debate and counsel. They were met on Hounslow heath by the speakers of the two houses, accompanied with eight peers, and about sixty commoners; who, having secretly retired from the city, presented themselves before the army, with their maces, and all the ensigns of their dignity, complaining of the violence put upon them, and craving protection.(2) Thus encouraged, the army advanced to chastise the rebellious city, and reinstate the violated parliament.

Meanwhile, the remaining members prepared themselves with vigour for defence, and determined to resist the violence of the army. The two houses immediately chose new speakers, renewed their orders for enlisting troops, and commanded the train-bands to man the lines. But the terror of a universal pillage, and even of a massacre, having seized the timid inhabitants, the parliament was obliged to submit. The army marched in triumph through the city, but without committing any outrage. They conducted to Westminster the two speakers, who resumed their seats as if nothing had happened; and the eleven impeached members, being accused as the authors of the tumult, were expelled. Seven peers were impeached; the lord-mayor, one sheriff, and three aldermen, were sent to the tower; several citizens and officers of the militia were committed to prison; the lines round the city were levelled; the militia restored to the independents; several regiments were quartered in Whitehall and the Mews; and the parliament being reduced to absolute servitude, a day was appointed for a solemn thanksgiving to God for the restoration of its liberty.(3)

The independents, who had secretly concurred in all the encroachments of the military upon the civil power, exulted in their victory. They had now a near prospect of moulding the government into the form of that imaginary republic which had long been the object of their wishes; and they vainly expected, by the terror of the sword, to impose a more perfect system of liberty on the nation, without perceiving that they themselves, by such a conduct, must become slaves to some military despot. Yet were the leaders of this party, Vane, Fiennes, St. John, and others, the men in England most celebrated for sound thought and deep design: so certain it is, that an extravagant passion for sway will make the most prudent overlook the dangerous consequences of those measures which seem to tend to their own aggrandizement. Men under the influence of such a passion may be said to see objects only on one side; hence, the hero and the politician, as well as the lover, in the failure of their self-deceiving projects, have often occasion to lament their own blindness.

The king, however, derived some temporary advantages from this revolution. The leaders of the army, having now established their dominion over the city and parliament, ventured to bring their captive sovereign to his palace of Hampton-court; where he lived, for a time, with an appearance of dignity and freedom. He still entertained hopes that his negotiations with the generals would be crowned with success, and declined all advances from the parliament. Cromwell, it is asserted, really intended to have made a private bargain with the king, but found insuperable difficulties in attempting to reconcile the military fanatics to such a measure. This reason, it is at least certain, he assigned for more seldom admitting the visits of the (1) Rushworth, vol. vii. (3) Id. ibid. Hume, vol. vil

(2) Rushworth, vol. viii.

king's friends. The agitators, he said, had already rendered him odious to the army, by representing him as a traitor, who, for the sake of private interest, was ready to betray the cause of God to the great enemy of piety and religion.(1)

Cromwell, thus finding, or pretending to find, that he could not safely close with the king's proposals, affected to be much alarmed for his majesty's safety. Desperate projects, he asserted, were formed by the agitators against the life of the captive monarch; and he was apprehensive, he said, that the commanding officers might not be able to restrain those desperate enthusiasts from effecting their bloody purpose. (2) In order, however, that no precaution might seem to be neglected, the guards were doubled upon him, the promiscuous concourse of people was restrained, and a more jealous care was exerted in attending his person; all under colour of protecting him from danger, but really with a view of making his present situation uneasy to him.

These artifices soon produced the desired effect. Charles took a sudden resolution of withdrawing himself from Hampton-court. He accordingly made his escape, attended by three gentlemen, in whom he placed particular confidence, namely, sir John Berkeley, Ashburnham, and Legg, though seemingly without any rational plan for the future disposal of his person. He first went towards the seacoast, and expressed great anxiety, that a certain ship, in which it was supposed he intended to have transported himself beyond sea, had not arrived. After secreting himself for some time at Titchfield, he determined to put himself under the protection of Hammond, governor of the isle of Wight, nephew to Dr. Hammond, his favourite chaplain, but intimately connected with the republican party. For this purpose, Ashburnham and Berkeley were despatched to that island, but with orders not to discover to the governor the place where the king lay concealed, until they had obtained a promise from him, that he would not deliver up his majesty to the parliament or army. Such a promise would have been a slender security; yet Ashburnham imprudently, if not treacherously, brought Hammond to Titchfield, without exacting it: and the king was obliged to accompany him to Carisbrook castle in the isle of Wight, where, although received with expressiors of duty and respect, he found himself in reality a prisoner.(3)

It is impossible to say how far the firmest mind may, on some occasions, be influenced by the apprehensions of personal danger; but it is certain that Charles never took a weaker step, or one more agreeable to his enemies, than in abandoning his palace of Hampton-court. There, though a captive, he was of more consequence than he could possibly be any where else, unless at the head of an army. He was now indeed far enough removed from the fury of the agitators, but he was also totally separated from his adherents, and still at the disposal of the army. The generals could, no doubt, have sent him at any time, while in their custody, to such a place of con finement; but the attempt would have been apt to rouse the returning loyalty of the nation. It was therefore an incident as fortunate for his persecutors as it proved fatal to himself, that he should thus timidly rush into

the snare.

Cromwell, being now freed from all anxiety in regard to the custody of the king's person, and entirely master of the parliament, employed himself seriously to cure the disorders of the army. That arrogant spirit, which he himself had so artfully fostered among the inferior officers and private men, in order to prepare them for a rebellion against their masters, and which he had so successfully employed against both king and parliament, was become dangerous to their leaders. The camp, in many respects, carried more the appearance of civil liberty than of military subordination. The troops

(1) Clarendon, vol. v. Rushworth, vol. viii.

(2) Id. ibid.

(3) All the historians of that age, except Clarendon, whose authority is chiefly followed in this narration, represent the king's departure for the isle of Wight as altogether voluntary, He seems to have probability on his side, in ascribing that measure partly to necessity. Hist. vol. v.