Cassell's Illustrated History of England/Volume 3/Chapter 3

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Within a quarter of an hour after the decease of James, Charles was proclaimed by the knight-marshal, Sir Edward Zouch, at the court-gate at Theobalds. He was in his twenty-fifth year, and so far as the admission of his title, the substantial prosperity of the kingdom, and the relations to foreign states, was an earnest, few monarchs have mounted the throne with more favourable auspices. True, the territories of his brother-in-law, the palsgrave, were in the enemy's hands, his sister was a queen without a realm, an electress without an electorate; but even the condition ​of these affairs were not such as defied the efforts of a wise king, who had the protestant states of Germany and Holland in his favour, and was on the point of an intimate alliance with France. It was equally true that Charles had made an enemy of Spain, but the rupture there was not of a kind which defied the application of a wise and conciliatory policy. We shall be called upon, however, to observe how quickly and how irremediably the froward and headstrong spirit of Charles and his supercilious favourite, Buckingham, excited almost universal hostility towards him.

At home, though there was the most entire submission to his right to reign, and the state of parties was such that there demanded no immediate change of executive, yet there were at work feelings and principles which required the nicest wisdom to estimate their nature and their force, and the most able policy to deal with them. The battle betwixt prerogative and popular rights had to be fought out, and all depended on the capacity of the monarch to perceive what was capable of modulation, and what was immovable, whether the result should be success or ruin. Charles was equally prepared by his father's maxims, his father's practice, and his habit of favouritism, to convert one of the grandest opportunities in history into one of the most terrible of its catastrophes.

The first thing which augured ill for him was his continuing in the post of chief favourite and chief counsellor, the vain, incapable, and licentious Buckingham. It is very rarely that the favourite of a monarch continues that of his successor; but Buckingham had been made to feel that the old king's faith in him was shaken, and he had assiduously cultivated the good graces of the heir-apparent. His recommendation of the personal journey to Spain, was precisely the thing to captivate a chivalrous but not very profoundly percipient young man. In this journey Buckingham, with all his folly, sensuality, and audacity, had managed to seize a firm hold on the affectionate and tenacious nature of the prince; and his blind regard for him outlasted counsels of folly, and deeds of wickedness and weakness, which would have ruined him a score of tunes with a more sagacious patron.

The first matter to which Charles turned his attention was his marriage with the princess Henrietta Maria, sister of Louis XIII. of France, the contract for which was already signed. The third day after his accession, he ratified this treaty as king, which he had signed as prince. The pope Urban, as we have stated, seeing that he could not prevail on the royal family of France to give up the marriage with the heretic prince of England, at length had, through his nuncio, delivered the breve of dispensation.

Louis of France, the queen-mother, the bride, Gaston, duke of Orleans, and the duke of Chevreuse, Charles's proxy, signed the document with the English ambassadors, on the 8th of May, 1625, and the marriage took place on a platform in front of the ancient cathedral of Notre Dame on the 11th. That stately old fabric was hung with rich tapestry and tissues of gold and silver for the occasion. From the palace of the archbishop of Paris to the church, a gallery was erected on raised pillars draped with violet satin, and figured with golden fleurs-de-lis. A great procession marched from the Louvre to the archbishop's palace, and thence through this gallery to the church. First went Chevreuse, as representative of the king of England, arrayed in black velvet, and over it thrown a scarf glittering with roses composed of diamonds. The English ambassadors followed next, and after them walked the bride, wearing a splendid crown of England; her brother the king conducting her on the right hand, and her younger brother Gaston, the duke of Orleans, on the left. Her mother, Maria de Medici, followed her, and next to her Anne of Austria, the queen-consort, in a robe bordered with gold and precious stones, and her long train borne by princesses of the house of Conde and Conti. Marie Montpnsier, the great heiress afterwards married to Gaston, duke of Orleans, led the remaining ladies of the royal family.

At the church door, the king of France and his brother Gaston delivered the bride into the hand of Chevreuse, Charles's proxy, and the cardinal de la Rochefocault performed the ceremony. From the platform the bride and her attendants advanced into the cathedral, and witnessed mass at the high altar; but Chevreuse, acting exactly as a protestant for the protestant king, whom he represented, retired with the English ambassadors during these ceremonies to a withdrawing apartment prepared for the purpose. On the return of the royal procession to the Louvre, Henrietta, as queen of England, was placed at the banquet on the right hand of king Louis, and was served at dinner by the marshal Bassompierre. as her carver, and by marshal Vitry, the assassin of marshal d'Ancre, the grand panetier.

The duke of Buckingham arrived to conduct the young queen to England, attended by a numerous and splendid retinue of English nobility. The showy and extravagant upstart appeared at the French court in a style which threw even the monarch into the shade. He wore "a rich white satin uncut velvet suit, set all over, suit and cloak, with diamonds, the value whereof," say the Hardwicke Papers, "is thought to be worth fourscore thousand pounds; besides a feather made with great diamonds, with sword, girdle, hatband, and spurs with diamonds, and he had twenty-seven other suits, all rich as invention could frame or art fashion." His conduct was as devoid of all modesty as his address, and threw discredit on the king, his master, who intrusted his honour and his counsels to such a man.

The king, queen, and queen-mother, accompanied by the whole court, set out to conduct the young fiancée to the port where she should embark for England. The procession was made as gorgeous and imposing as possible, and at each halting place the court was amused by a variety of pageants and entertainments drawn from a past age. One alone of these deserves remark, being afterwards deemed ominous—a representation of all the French princesses who had become queens of England. They presented a group distinguished by their misfortunes, and the only one wanting to complete the number being herself yet a spectator, the girlish Henrietta, little more than fifteen years of age, who was destined to exceed them all in calamity.

The king was, however, seized with an illness, which compelled him to discontinue the journey, and at Compeigne the queen-mother was also taken so ill as to detain the procession a fortnight at Amiens. There the queen and queen-mother took leave of Henrietta, the mother putting ​into the young queen of England's hand at parting a remarkably eloquent and affectionate letter; which, however, was ill-advised, inasmuch as it clearly exhorted the young princess, who was going to live amongst a protestant people, to a bigoted adherence to all the mischievous notions of the truth only of popery, and of the dangerous heresy of her future subjects. But no doubt this was the spirit which had been carefully instilled into her mind from the first prospect of this alliance, and was not long in producing its bitter fruits. The plague being rife in Calais, the royal procession, now under the guidance of Buckingham, took its way to Boulogne.

Charles, during this delay at Amiens, had been awaiting his wife at Canterbury, and he was destined to a fresh one through the licentious madness of Buckingham. No sooner did that most impudent of libertines reach the French court than he had the audacity to fall in love with the queen of France, the beautiful Anne of Austria, sister of the king of Spain. He lost no opportunity of pressing his suit on the way in the absence of the king, and had the presumption to imagine his daring passion returned. No sooner did he reach Boulogne, than pretending that he had received some despatches of importance, he hurried back to Amiens, where the French procession yet remained, and rushing into the bed-chamber of the queen, threw himself on his knees before her, and, regardless of the presence of two maids of honour, poured out the infamous protestations of his polluted passion. The queen repulsed him with an air of deep anger, and bade him begone in a tone of cutting severity, the reality of which, however, was doubted by Madame de Motteville, who recorded the occurrence.

The sensation excited by this unparalleled circumstance in the French court was intense. The king ordered the arrest of an number of the queen's attendants, and dismissed several of them. Yet Buckingham, on reaching England, does not appear to have received any serious censure from his infatuated master, for this breach of all ambassadorial decency and etiquette; and spite of the resentment of the French king and court, continued to maintain all the character of a devoted lover of the French queen.

On the 23rd of June the report of ordnance wafted over from Boulogne, announced the embarkation; and on Sunday evening she landed at Dover, after a very stormy passage. Mr. Tyrrwhit, a gentleman of the household, rode post haste to Canterbury to inform Charles, who was at Dover Castle by ten o'clock the next morning to greet his bride. Henrietta Maria was at breakfast when the king was announced, and instantly rose, and hastened down stairs to meet him. On seeing him, she attempted to kneel and kiss his hand, but he prevented her, by folding her in his arms and kissing her. She had studied a little set speech to address him with, but could only get out so much of it as, "Sire, je suis venue en ce pays de voire majesté, pour étre commandée de vous"—"Sire, I am come into your majesty's country to be at your command"—but at that point she burst into tears.

It would have been well for her had she always retained the sentiment of those words, but at present she was all amiability. The king, who had not seen her since his stolen view on his way to Spain, was surprised to find her so tall as to reach his shoulder, and looked down at her feet to ascertain whether there was no artificial elevation; on which she gaily put out her foot, saying, in French, "Sire, I stand upon my own feet. I have no help from art. Thus high am I, neither higher nor lower." She then presented to his majesty the duke and duchess of Chevreuse, the prince Charles's relative and proxy, the latter the most celebrated beauty and coquette of the French court; Madame St. George, the queen's governess and favourite, and the rest of her followers, who amounted only to about four hundred! Amongst these were no less than twenty-nine priests of one kind or another, and a rather juvenile bishop, being not thirty years of age.

Charles was delighted with the beauty and vivacity of the young queen. They set out for Canterbury, and on their way thither were met on Barham Downs by the English nobility; pavilions being pitched there for the purpose of the refreshment of the royal pair, and the introduction of the queen to her court. After the wedding, at which the celebrated English composer, Orlando Gibbons, performed on the organ, the royal cavalcade took its way to Gravesend, and thence ascended the Thames, so as to avoid the city, in which the plague was then raging. Thousands of boats of all kinds floated around the royal barge, and the fleet of fifty vessels lying ready for the Spanish expedition, discharged their ordnance as well as the Tower its guns. And thus, in the midst of a smart shower, they reached London Bridge, and made straight for Somerset House, which was the queen's dower palace. The assembled crowds all the way gave shouts of acclamation, and, spite of the queen's popery, every so was in a mood to be pleased with her. She shook her hand out of the barge window in return for the public greeting, and many anecdotes were circulated in her favour; as that on the vigil of St. John the Baptist, she had eaten both pheasant and venison at Canterbury, though her confessor had stood by her and reminded her that it was a fast; and that, when one of the English suite had asked her if her majesty could endure a Huguenot, she had answered, "Why not? was not my father one?"

But it was not long before she let her new subjects as well as the king see that she was of a wilful and haughty temper. The first time that she kept court at Whitehall, a Mr. Mordaunt, who was present, wrote the following: "The queen, however little in stature, is of a most charming countenance when pleased, but full of spirit, and seems to be of more than ordinary resolution. With one frown—divers of us being at Whitehall to see her—she drove us all out of the chamber, the room being somewhat over-heated with fire and company. I suppose none but a queen could have cast such a scowl."

But we must interrupt the domestic life of the king to notice the commencement of his public career. On the 18th of June, the day after the arrival of the queen, Charles met his first parliament. The king had not yet been crowned, but he appeared on the throne with his crown on his head. He ordered one of the bishops to read prayers before proceeding to business, and this was done so adroitly, that the catholic members were compelled to remain during the heretical service. They betrayed great uneasiness, some kneeling, some standing upright, and one unhappy individual continuing to cross himself the whole time.

​Charles was not an eloquent speaker, and he, moreover, was afflicted with stammering; but he plunged boldly into a statement which it was very easy for the two houses to understand. He informed them that his father had left debts to the amount of seven hundred thousand pounds; that the money voted for the war against Spain and Austria was expended, and he therefore called upon them for liberal supplies. He declared his resolution to prosecute the wars which they had so loudly called for with vigour, but it was for them to furnish the means.

As he was beginning his reign, and had not plunged himself into very heavy debt, or preached up, like his father, the claims of the prerogative, he had a right to expect a more generous treatment than James. But, notwithstanding the éclat of a new reign, and the usual desire on such occasions to stand well with the throne, the commons displayed no enthusiasm in voting their money. There were many causes, even under a new king, to produce this coolness. Charles had won their popularity by abandoning the Spanish match, but he had now neutralised that merit by taking a catholic queen from France. To please the commons and the public generally, he should have selected a wife from one of the protestant houses of Germany or the Netherlands; but for this he had displayed no desire. In the second place, he had retained the hated Buckingham in all his former eminence, both as a minister of the crown, and as his own associate. The recent conduct of this profligate man in France had outgone his folly and vice in Spain, and had outraged all the most serious feelings and sacred sentiments of the nation. Besides, they had no faith in his abilities, either as a commander or a statesman, and beheld with disgust his reckless extravagance and unconcealed infamy of life at home. No talent whatever had been shown in the war in Germany for the restoration of the Palatinate; and, therefore, the commons, instead of voting money to defray the late king's debts, and to carry on the war efficiently, restricted their advances to two subsidies, amounting to about one hundred and forty thousand pounds, and to the grant of tonnage and poundage, not for life as afore-time, but merely for the year.

But still more apprehensive were they on the subject of religion. The breach with Spain had naturally removed any delicacy on the part of the Spaniards to conceal the treacherous concessions, in perfect contradiction to the public professions of both the late and the present king, which had been made on that head. It was now freely whispered that the like had been made to France, and the sight of the crowd of priests and papistical courtiers who had flocked over with the queen, and the performance of the mass in the king's own house, led the zealous reformers to believe that there was a tacit intention on the part of the king to restore the catholic religion.

What rendered the commons more sensitive on this head were the writings of Dr. Montague, one of the king's chaplains, and editor of his father's works. In a controversy with a catholic missionary, he had disowned the Calvinistic doctrines of the puritans with which his church was charged, and declared for the Arminian tenets of which Laud was the great champion. This gave great offence; he was accused of being a concealed papist, and two puritan ministers. Yates and Ward, prepared a charge against him, and laid it before parliament. Montague denied that he was amenable to parliament, and "appealed unto Cæsar." Charles informed the commons that the cognisance of his chaplains belonged to him, and not to them. But they asserted their right to deal with all such cases, and summoned him to appear at the bar of the house, where they bound him in a bond of two thousand pounds to appear when called for.

Charles endeavoured to recall their attention to the state of the finances, showing them the inadequacy of their votes; the fitting out of the navy amounting alone to three hundred thousand pounds. He was beyond all indignant at the grant of tonnage and poundage for only one year, seeing that his predecessors from the time of Henry VI., had enjoyed it for life; and the lords threw out that part of the vote for this reason, so that he had no parliamentary right to collect that at all. To make matters worse, instead of listening to the pleading of lord Conway, the chief secretary, for further grants, they presented to the king, after listening to four sermons one day, and taking the sacrament the next, a "pious petition," praying him, as he valued the maintenance of true religion, and would discourage superstition and idolatry, to put in force all the penal statutes against catholics.

To this demand Charles could only return an evasive answer. He had recently bound himself by the most solemn oaths to do nothing of the kind; and under the sanction of the marriage treaty with France, the mass was every day celebrated under his own roof, and his palace and its immediate vicinity swarmed with catholics and their priests. Nay, he had, just before summoning parliament, been called on by France to send a fleet in virtue of this treaty to assist in putting down the Huguenots. Soubise, the general of the Huguenots, still retained possession of Rochelle and the island of Rhé, and their fleet scoured the coasts in such force, that the French fleet dared not attempt to cope with it. Richeileu, therefore, called on Charles to give Louis assistance. Accordingly, though the affairs of the English fleet had been most woefully conducted ever since Buckingham had been lord admiral, he mustered seven merchant vessels, and sent them with the Vanguard, the only ship of the line that was fit for sea, under the command of admiral Pennington, to Rochelle. The destination of the fleet was declared to be Genoa, but on reaching Dieppe, the officers and crew were astonished to receive orders to take on board French soldiers and sailors, and proceed to Rochelle to fight against the protestants. They refused to a man, and notwithstanding the imperative commands of the duke of Montmorency, the lord admiral of France, they compelled their own admiral to put back to the Downs.

On this ignominious return, Pennington requested to be permitted to decline this service, and his desire was much favoured by the remonstrances of the Huguenots, who sent over an envoy, entreating the king not to give such a triumph to popery as to fight against the protestants. Charles, with that fatal duplicity which he had learned so early under his father, sent fair words to Soubise, the duke of Rohan, and the other leaders of the Huguenots; but Buckingham, by speaking out more plainly, exposed the hollowness of his master. He assured the navy that they ​were bound by treaty, and fight they must for the king of France. Both officers and owners of the ships declared that as they were chartered for the service of the king of England, they should not be handed over to the French without an order from the king himself. Thereupon Buckingham hastened down to Rochester, accompanied by the French ambassador, who offered to charter the vessels for his government. Men, owners, and officers, refused positively any such service.

Disappointed by this display of true English spirit, Charles ordered secretary Conway to write to vice-admiral Pennington in his name, commanding him that he should proceed to Dieppe and take on board as many men as the French government desired, for which this letter was his warrant. At the same time Pennington received an autographic letter from Charles, commanding him to make over the Vanguard to the French admiral at Dieppe, and to order the commanders of the seven merchant ships to do the same, and in ease of refusal to compel them by force. All this appears to have been imposed on Pennington as a matter of strict secrecy; and that officer had not the virtue to refuse so degrading a service. The fleet again sailed to Dieppe: the men must have more than suspected the object; and when Pennington made over the Vanguard, and delivered the royal order to the captains of the several merchant vessels, to a man they refused to obey, and weighed anchor to return home. On this Pennington, who proved himself the fitting tool of such a king, fired into them, and overawed all of them except Sir Ferdinand Gore, in the Neptune, who kept on his way, disdaining to disgrace himself by such a deed.

The French were taken on board and conveyed to Rochelle. But that was all that was accomplished; for the English seamen instantly deserted on reaching land, and many of them hastened to join the ranks of the Huguenots, the rest returning home overflowing with indignation, and spreading everywhere the disgrace of the royal conduct.

In the whole of this transaction the headstrong fatality of ​

​Charles was conspicuous, and foreboded the miseries that were to follow. In the midst of the public excitement from this pause, the parliament met at Oxford on the 1st of August. The result was as might have been expected. On the king demanding the restoration of the vote of tonnage and poundage, negatived by the lords, or that other subsidies should be granted in lieu of this, the commons refused both. In reply to the king's inquiry how the war was to be carried on, they replied that they must first be satisfied against whom the war was ready to be directed. They complained that the penal statutes against the papists were not enforced as promised, and proceeded to their favourite avocation of attacking the public grievances. On this topic Coke came forward with an eloquence and a boldness which astonished the court. With unsparing vigour worthy of his earlier years—but in a much better cause than that in which his abilities were then often exercised—he denounced the new offices created, the monopolies granted, and the lavish waste of the public money, all for the benefit of Buckingham and his relations. He insisted that the useless pensions which had been recently granted should be stopped till the late king's debts were paid, and that a system of strict economy should be substituted for the now extravagant expenditure of the royal household. Others followed in the same strain, denouncing the odious practice of selling offices, in which Buckingham and his mother were the great vendors.

A third party showed that they were armed with dangerous matter by the still disgraced and restrained earl of Bristol. They charged Buckingham with his maladministration of affairs, with his incompetency as lord high admiral, and with having involved this country in an unnecessary war with Spain, merely in revenge of a private quarrel with the Spanish minister, Olivarez. They demanded an inquiry into that affair. One of the members of the house venturing to defend the government, and condemning the licence of speech against the crown, was speedily brought upon his knees, and compelled to implore pardon at the bar. Sir Robert Cotton, the founder of the Cottonian Library, applauded the wisdom and spirit of the house in thus summarily dealing with this unworthy member; and after giving a description of the conduct of the late favourite, Somerset, and of the follies and crimes of favourites of former reigns, as the Spencers, the Gavestons, the Poles, and others, pronounced Buckingham as far more insolent, mischievous, and incompetent than any of them.

The favourite, thus rudely handled, was quietly enjoying himself at Woodstock; but the king sent and made him aware of the necessity of defending himself. He hastened to town, and delivered in his place in the peers, a statement of the accounts of the navy, and a stout denial of any personal motives in the quarrel with Spain. He clearly showed that he felt whence the danger came, and alluding to the earl of Bristol, said, "I am minded to leave that business asleep, but if it should awake, it will prove a lion to devour him who co-operated with Olivarez."

To cut short these awkward debates, the king sent word to the commons that as the plague was already in Oxford, it was necessary to make quick work, and that they should furnish the grant of supplies. He offered to accept for the present forty thousand pounds; but the house refused even this, saying that if that was all that was necessary, it might readily be raised by a loan to the crown. This put the king beyond his patience, and he menaced them with a speedy dissolution; adding if they were not afraid of their health, he would take care of it for them, by releasing them from the plague-invaded city, and find some means of helping himself The commons were not in a temper to be intimidated; on the contrary, they went into a most warm and spirited debate on the king's message, and appointed a committee to prepare a reply. In this they thanked him for his care of their health, and of the religion of the nation, and promised supplies when the abuses of the government were redressed; and they called upon him not to suffer himself to be prejudiced against the greatest safeguard that a king could have—the faithful and dutiful commons—by interested persons. Before they had time, however, to present this address, Charles dissolved the parliament, which had only sat in this Oxford session twelve days.

Thus deprived of all the necessary funds for a war, none but so infatuated a monarch as Charles would have persisted in plunging into it. War had not yet been proclaimed against Spain; it was neither necessary nor expedient; on the contrary, every motive of political wisdom warned him to keep peace in that quarter, if he really wished to be at liberty to prosecute the interests of the palsgrave and the protestant cause. But led by the splenetic imbecility of Buckingham, so far was he from seeing the folly of a war with Spain, that he was soon pushed into one with France. In fact, he took every step which would have been avoided by a wise prince, and speedily involved himself in a labyrinth of difficulties inextricable. Spain quieted and even soothed; France cultivated, with the object of obtaining its influence and aid in the recovery of the Palatinate; and the protestants of Germany sympathised with, if not aided substantially in their severe struggle against Austrian bigotry, Charles might have eventually restored his sister and her husband to their old estate, and have won a place in the European world superior to any king of his time. Instead of this, he took the surest means to exasperate his own people, and his most powerful neighbour, that his worst enemies could have suggested.

To raise money for the prosecution of the war against Spain, he ordered the duties of tonnage and poundage to be levied, notwithstanding they were not voted by the peers. He issued writs of privy seal to the nobility, gentry, and clergy, for loans of money, and menaced vengeance if they were not complied with. All salaries and fees were suspended, and to such a strait was he reduced by his efforts to man and supply the fleet, that he was obliged to borrow three thousand pounds from the corporations of Southampton and Salisbury to enable him to meet the expenses of his own table.

At length the fleet was ready to sail with a force of ten thousand men; the English fleet consisting of eighty sail, and the Dutch sent an addition of sixteen sail. In weight and armament of ships such a force had scarcely ever before left an English port. But formidable as was this naval power, it was rendered perfectly inert by the same utter want of judgment and genius which marked all the ​measures of Buckingham. Its destination was to have been kept secret, so that it might take the Spaniards by surprise; but it was well known, not only to that nation, but to the whole Continent. In spite of this, such a force in the hands of a Drake or a Nottingham, might have struck a ruinous blow to the Spanish navy and seaports; but Buckingham, for his own selfish purposes, appointed to the command Sir Edward Cecil, now created viscount Wimbledon, a man who had, indeed, grown grey in the service of the states of Holland, but only to make himself known as most incompetent to such an enterprise. He was, moreover, a land officer, whilst the admiral to whom the command regularly fell, in case the lord high admiral himself did not take it. Sir Robert Mansell, vice-admiral of England, had a high reputation, and the confidence of the men as an experienced officer.

On the 3rd of October this noble but ill-used fleet sailed from Plymouth, and took its way across the Bay of Biscay, where it encountered one of its storms, and received considerable damage, one vessel foundering with a hundred and seventy men. The admiral had instructions to intercept the treasure ships from America, to scour the coasts of Spain, and destroy the shipping in its harbours. But instead of doing that first which must be done then if at all—attack the ships in the ports—he called a council, and was completely bewildered by the conflicting opinions given. The conclusion was to make for Cadiz, and seize its ships, but the Spaniards were already aware of and prepared for them. Instead of keeping, moreover, a sharp watch for the Plata ships, he, Wimbledon, let several of them escape into port, which of themselves were thought, says Howell, rich enough to have paid all the expenses of the expedition. There was still nothing to prevent a brave admiral attacking the vessels in harbour; but more accustomed to land service, the commander landed his forces, and took the fort of Puntal. Making next a rapid march towards the bridge of Suazzo, in order to cut off the communication between the Isle de Leon and the continent, his soldiers discovered some wine cellars by the way, and became intoxicated and incapable of preserving order. Alarmed at this circumstance, their incapable leader conducted them back to the ships. Not daring to attack the port, he determined to look out for the treasure ships. But whilst cruising for this purpose, a fever broke out on board the vessel of lord Delaware; and as if it were his intention to diffuse the contagion through the whole fleet, the admiral had the sick men distributed amongst the healthy ships. A dreadful mortality accordingly raged through the whole fleet. No Plata ships could be seen, for they appear to have been aware of their enemies, and held away towards the Barbary coast; and after waiting fruitlessly for eighteen days, Wimbledon made sail again for England. No sooner did this imbecile quit the coast than fifty richly laden vessels entered the port of Lisbon. On landing at Plymouth, with the loss of a thousand men, in this most ignominious voyage, the people received the admiral with hisses and execrations. Under Henry VII. or Elizabeth, the commander would have paid for his misconduct with his head; Charles did not even order a court-martial to investigate the causes of the disgraceful failure, but submitted it to inquiry before the privy council. There Wimbledon laid the blame on the ignorance and insubordination of the officers under him, and the earl of Essex and the rest accused him of utter incapacity. The wretched Wimbledon threw himself on the support of the favourite, who had selected him, and Buckingham, who seemed ready to dare any amount of odium, protected him; the matter being left to sink into silence as the resentment of the public subsided, or fresh causes of anger superseded it.

The failure of the enterprise, however, was extremely embarrassing in another respect. The magnificent promises of wealth from the capture of the rich argosies of the Spaniards hail all vanished into thin air, and money must be raised by some means. The favourite, therefore, set off into Holland with the crown jewels and the royal plate, which he pawned for three hundred thousand pounds. He then entered into a treaty with the king of Denmark, who engaged, on the payment of a monthly subsidy from England and another from the United Provinces, to furnish an army of thirty-six thousand men. Thence Buckingham contemplated a journey to Paris; but his conduct there on occasion of his last visit was not likely to be forgotten, and he received a message from Richelieu forbidding his reception. The principal courtiers even vowed that if he ever ventured there they would take his life.

This rebuff had the effect upon his vain and vindictive mind, which all such wounds to his pride had. He at once sought to avenge himself, and in his resentment he would ruin kingdoms if possible. Lord Holland, who was thoroughly in his interest, and Sir Dudley Carleton, were despatched there in his stead; but they did not go to strengthen the alliance, a matter of so much importance, but to insult and irritate the French court. They were instructed, not, as the true policy would have been, to unite their influence with that of England, for the restoration of the palsgrave, but to demand the restoration of the ships which had been lent to France, and to open a communication with Louis's revolted subjects, the Huguenots. If Louis proposed measures to draw closer the alliance, which of all things was desirable, they were to refer the matter home, but they were not to fail in cultivating a friendship with the insurgent protestants, and to assure them of assistance on any emergency. The whole was the policy of a mean and suicidal spite. Richelieu, however, manifested a much deeper statesmanship than Charles or Buckingham was capable of. He at once promised the restoration of the ships, defeated the designs of England by making peace with the Huguenots, and then, with an air of friendliness, volunteered to send an army into Germany if Charles would do the same. That subtle statesman seemed as if he would show them the paltry and egregious folly of their conduct.

Defeated in this quarter, Buckingham sought revenge in another. The queen's French attendants had caused the king much annoyance, and there can be little doubt that Buckingham seized the present occasion to get them sent without ceremony from the country. Charles was passionately attached to his young queen, who was handsome, lively, and, when in good humour, extremely fascinating; but she soon showed that she had a strong self-will and a petulant temper. In whatever did not please her, the horde of French men and women who surrounded her, found ​occasion to encourage her discontent, and stimulate her to opposition. Her favourite, Madame St. George, seems to have been especially active in this mischievous style; and Charles became excessively incensed against them. Particularly on the subject of the queen's chapel and the open display of her religion, the priests stirred up the queen to importune the king. These foolish bigots could not see that Charles was placed in a most awkward situation by the toleration of that religion at all. He had set apart one of the most retired chambers in Whitehall for her chapel, and had forbidden any English people, men or women, to attend the service there. But this did not satisfy the priests: they tugged the queen perpetually to demand from the king the chapel at St. James's, and to have it fitted up with all the embellishments and apparatus of a royal open chapel. Charles angrily replied that if the queen's closet was not large enough, they could have the great chamber; if that would not hold them, they might go into the garden; and if the garden were too contracted, then the park was the fittest place. One change he made, which was done with his usual want of tact. The name of Henriette, as the French called it, and its French pronunciation, was so unaccustomed to English ears, that she was prayed for in the royal chapel by the name of "queen Henry," and he, therefore, ordered her second name, Maria, to be anglicised into Mary, in the public service. This was most ominous and hateful to the ears of his subjects, who were thereby reminded that they had again a queen Mary, and papist queen too.

Charles found her confessor. Father Sancy, a most troublesome, impertinent fellow, who exercised the worst influence over the queen; and he insisted on his being at once sent home, but did not succeed without much trouble. Then Madame St. George took unease offence at the king's not following her to ride in the same coach with himself and the Queen, as though she had the right to do that irrespective of the king's will, because she had thus accompanied the princess in France as her governess. Spite of the king's command, she persisted in thrusting herself in, and he was obliged to prevent her forcibly. In her anger at this, she worked the queen into a most offensive humour. "From that hour" wrote Charles to Henrietta's mother, "no man can say that my wife has behaved two days together with the respect that I have deserved of her." To settle these matters, Charles sent to the queen by the count de Tilliers, one of the heads of her establishment, the regulations which had been kept in the court of the queen, his own mother, and desired the count to see that they were kept. To this Henrietta sent back the reply, "I hope I shall be allowed to order my own house as I think best."

Charles complained grievously, and most justly, to Mary de Medici, of this; observing that if she had spoken to him privately about it, he would have done all he could to please her, but he could not have imagined her offending him in that public manner. "After this answer," he continued, "I took my time, when I thought we had leisure to dispute it out by ourselves, to tell her both her fault in the publicity of such answers, and her mistakes in the business itself. She, instead of acknowledging her mistakes, gave me so in an answer that I omit to repeat it. When I have anything to say to her, I must manage her servants first, else I am sure to be denied. Likewise I have to complain of her neglect of the English tongue, and of the nation in general."

It was clear that the crew of insolent foreigners must be packed off before there could be any domestic peace; but this might have been long delayed had Buckingham been permitted to visit Paris. He wrote to the favourite whilst in the Netherlands his complaints on this head, telling him that he was tempted to send away the monsers (monsieurs), because it was told him that they were actually intending to steal away his wife, and were plotting amongst his own subjects. He says that he cannot find positive proof of their scheme for carrying off the queen to France on the plea of ill-usage; but as to the plotting, he has good grounds to believe it. In another letter to Buckingham, he says, "As for news, my wife begins to mend her manners. I know not how long it will continue: they say she does so by advice." Probably her mother, Mary de Medici, had given her that sensible advice; at all events, the catastrophe of the French exodus was delayed till Buckingham came home, fuming against the whole French court.

Meantime Charles, who was in straits with his parliament and subjects, which needed not the humour of a froward wife to aggravate them, was compelled to try again the more than dubious resort to parliament for money. All that Buckingham had raised on the plate and jewels, was but as a mite in the great gulf of his necessities. To prepare the way for any success with the commons, he was obliged to do that which must certainly embroil him with his French allies, and add fresh fuel to the fire of domestic discord which consumed him. Certainly never had any man a more difficult part to play, except such a man as had acted with such absolute want of prudence in his measures; for nothing is easier than for men, by their folly or absurd resentments, to knit themselves up into a web of difficulties. He now resolved to break his marriage oath to France, and persecute the catholics to conciliate the protestants.

Orders were accordingly issued to all magistrates to put the penal laws in force; and a commission was appointed to levy the fines on the recusants. All catholic priests and missionaries were warned to quit the kingdom immediately, and all parents and guardians to recall their children from catholic schools, and young men from catholic colleges on the Continent. But worse than all, because personally insulting and irritating to the higher classes, who constituted the house of peers, and who hitherto had exhibited much forbearance, he conceded to the advice of his council, that the catholic aristocracy should be disarmed. The effect of this order may be imagined, from a scene which took place at a seat of lord Vaux, in Northamptonshire. The deputy-lieutenant, accompanied by two knights, and a Mr. Knightly, a magistrate, proceeded to make a search. They found there lord Vaux, his mother, and a younger brother of lord Vaux. In conducting the search Mr. Vaux, the younger brother, became excited by the indignity of the process, and observed that he thought the inspectors had now done everything they could except cutting the throats of the recusants, and swearing that he wished it would come to that. Knightly told the young man that he was mistaken: there were various clauses of the statutes which they had not put in ​force; as for instance the tine of twenty pounds per month for non-attendance at church, as well as a fine of twelve pence for every oath, and forthwith demanded that penalty from him. Young Vaux refused with hot words and fresh oaths; Knightly then demanded that lord Vaux or his mother should pay it for him; and on their refusal ordered the constables to distrain to the amount of three shillings on the goods. This put the finish to the patience of lord Vaux himself, who told Knightly that he would call him to account for his conduct in another place; on which Knightly replied that his lordship knew where he lived. Lord Vaux, in his anger, thrust Knightly out of the house, saying that he had done, and should now go about his business; but this infuriating Knightly, he turned back again, declaring that he had not done, he would make a farther search. The parties thereupon came to blows: lord Vaux broke the head of Knightly's man with a cudgel, and the deputy-lieutenant and his followers thought it time to get away. Lord Vaux was soon after arrested by the privy council on the complaint of Knightly, and dealt with in the star-chamber.

Certainly no proceedings could indispose the house of peers to the king more than such as these; but meantime Charles was active in endeavouring by other measures to win a party there. The earl of Pembroke had for some time made himself head of the opposition, and on great occasions brought with him on a vote no less than ten proxies, Buckingham himself being only able to command thirteen. He prevailed on Pembroke to be reconciled to the favourite; and at the same time, to punish the lord-keeper Willams, who had quarrelled with Buckingham, and told him that he should go over to Pembroke, and labour for the redress of the grievances of the people, he dismissed him, and gave the great seal to Sir Thomas Coventry, the attorney-general.

To manage the commons, and to prevent the threatened impeachment of Buckingham, when the judges presented to him the lists of sheriffs, he struck out seven names, and wrote in their places seven of the most able and active of the leaders of opposition in the commons, the most determined enemies of the favourite, namely:—Sir Edward Coke, Sir Thomas Wentworth, Sir Francis Seymour, Sir Robert Philips, Sir Grey Palmer, Sir William Fleetwood, and Edward Alford. As this office disqualified them from sitting in parliament, the king thus got rid of them for that year; but Coke contended that though a sheriff could not sit for his own county, he could for another, and got himself elected for the county of Norfolk, but did not venture to take his seat.

All these measures, it will be seen, were dictated not by a desire to conciliate, but to override the parliament, and therefore could not promise much good to a mind of any depth of penetration. Parliament was summoned for the 6th of February, 1626, and the 2nd was appointed for the coronation. In this ceremony the king was destined to suffer a deep mortification. All previous queens had been most anxious to share in the coronation of their husband, and that grace had by several monarchs been refused, especially by Henry VII. But the unwise French papists about Henrietta persuaded her to decline a ceremony which must be performed by a heretic prelate; a fatal advice, for it gave rise in after years to the assertion of her enemies, that as she had never been crowned, she never was lawful queen-consort.

Charles did all in his power to conquer her prejudices and prevail on her to be crowned—no British queen having ever refused such an honour before; but neither conjugal affection, nor a desire to stand well with the great nation with which her lot was cost, nor those natural feelings in a young and handsome woman to shine as the first of her sex in the most magnificent ceremony of the realm, could shake her resolve. She would not even consent to be present in a latticed box at her husband's coronation, her absence having the effect of preventing the French ambassador being there; for though he declared he would have strained his conscience a little to have taken his proper place in the assembly, etiquette made that impossible, when the sister of his master, the queen of the nation, was not there even as a spectator.

The popularity of Henrietta received a death-blow from this perverse conduct: the people never forgave the slight upon their crown and country by this ill-advised and obstinate girl, and this feeling was heightened by attendant circumstances. The day was Candlemas Day, a high festival in the catholic church, which was celebrated with all its formalities by Henrietta, whilst her protestant husband was being crowned in Westminster Abbey. The people saw her standing at a window of Whitehall gate-house, King Street, watching the procession as it went and returned, and her French ladies dancing and capering about her in the room.

The ceremony of the coronation itself was destitute of any national joy. Charles had alarmed the religious feelings of the nation, and had already infected his subjects with want of faith in him. Laud, who was ill high favour with both Charles and Buckingham, was a conspicuous object on the occasion, and had made several alterations in the service, and composed a new prayer; all his changes tending to that exaltation of church and state for which he lived, and for which he lost his head. Buckingham was lord constable for the day, another circumstance calculated to find no favour with the people. In ascending the stops of the throne, instead of giving his right hand to the king, he gave him his left, which Charles put by with his right hand, and assisted the duke, saying, "I have as much need to help you as you to help me." Nor was this the only strange thing observed on the occasion. Archbishop Abbot, who performed the ceremony of anointing, was regarded by many as still not canonical, on account of his accidentally killing the king's keeper whilst hunting, although he had received absolution. He performed the act of anointing behind a screen raised for the purpose, so much was the puritans' disapprobation of this ceremony dreaded; and when the archbishop presented the king to the people as their rightful king, and called upon them to testify their consent by their general acclamation, there was a dead silence. Lord Arundel, the earl marshal, hastened to bid them shout, and cry "God save the king," but the response was but very faint and partial.

With the knowledge of a discontented people, Charles went to meet his parliament, and this consciousness would, in a monarch capable of taking a solemn warning, have ​operated to produce conciliation, at least of tone; but Charles was one of that class of men who suggested the striking words to the Latin fatalist that, He whom God intends to destroy he first drives mad. Accordingly, he opened the sitting with a curt speech, referring them to that of the new lord keeper Coventry, which was in the worst possible taste. He said, "If we consider aright, and think of the incomparable distance between the supreme height and majesty of a mighty monarch, and the submissive awe and lowliness of loyal subjects, we cannot but receive exceeding comfort and contentment in the frame and constitution of this highest court, wherein not only prelates, nobles, and grandees, but the commons of all degrees have their part; and wherein that high majesty doth descend to admit, or rather to invite, the humblest of his subjects to conference and council with him."

Of all language this was, in the temper of the commons, the most adapted to incense them. Such talk of the condescension of the crown, at the moment when they were entering on a desperate conflict with it for curbing the prerogative, only the more stimulated their resolution to their task. They immediately formed themselves into three committees; one of religion, a second of grievances, and a third of evils. They again, by the committee of religion, canvassed the subject of popery; resolving to enact still severer laws against it, as the origin of many of the worst evils that afflicted the nation. They summoned schoolmasters from various and remote parts of the kingdom, and put searching questions to them, as to the doctrines which they held and taught to their scholars; and every member of the house was called upon in turn to denounce all persons in authority or office, known to them as holding the tenets of the ancient faith. In fact, in their vehement zeal for religious liberty, the zealots of the house were on the highway to extinguish every spark of toleration, and to convert the house of commons into an inquisition, instead of the bulwark of popular right.

They again summoned Dr. Montague to redeem his bail, and receive punishment on account of his book, in which they charged him with having admitted that the church of Rome was the true church, and that the articles on which the two churches did not agree were of minor importance. Laud advocated the cause of Montague at court, for he was of precisely the same opinions, and urged the king and Buckingham to protect him. But both Charles and the favourite saw too many difficulties in their own way to care to interfere in defence of the chaplain. They left him to his fate, and he would have been, no doubt, severely dealt with, had not higher matters seized the attention of the house, and caused the offending churchman to become overlooked.

This was the impeachment of Buckingham. The committee of grievances had drawn up, after a tedious investigation, a list of sixteen grievances; consisting of such as had so often been warmly debated in the last reign; the most prominent of which they regarded the practice of purveyance, by which the officers of the household still collected provisions at a fixed price for sixty miles round the court; and the illegal conduct of the lord treasurer, who went on collecting tonnage and poundage, though unsanctioned by parliament. They charged the maintenance of these evil to the advice and influence of a "great delinquent" at court; who had, moreover, occasioned all the disgraces to the national flag, both by land and sea, which had for some years occurred, and who ought to be punished accordingly.

The time was now actually arriving of which James had warned his son and Buckingham, when they urged the impeachment of the earl of Middlesex, but choosing to forget all that, Charles sent down word to the house that he did not allow any of his servants to be called in question by them, especially such as were of eminence and near unto his person. He remarked that of old the desire of subjects had been to know what they should do with him whom the king delighted to honour, but their desire now appeared to be to do what they could against him whom the king honoured. That they aimed at the duke of Buckingham, he said, he saw clearly, and he wondered much what had produced such a change since the former parliament; assuring them that the duke had taken no step but by his order and consent; and he concluded by desiring them to hasten the question of supply, "or it would be worse for them."

On the 29th of March he repeated the menace; but the commons went on preparing their charges against Buckingham, declaring that it was the undoubted right of parliament to inquire into the proceedings of persons of any estate whatever, who had been found dangerous to the commonwealth, and had abused the confidence reposed in them by the crown.

Seeing them bent on proceeding, Charles sent down to the house the lord keeper, to acquaint them with his majesty's express command that they should cease this inquiry, or that he would dissolve them; and Sir Dudley Carleton, who had been much employed as ambassador to foreign states, and had recently returned from France, warned them not to make the king out of love with parliaments, and then drew a most deplorable picture of the state of those countries where such had come to be the case. In all Christian countries, he said, there were formerly parliaments; but the monarchs, weary of their turbulence, had broken them up, except in this kingdom; and now he represented the miserable subjects as resembling spectres rather than men, miserably clad, meagre of body, and wearing wooden shoes.

This caricature of foreigners, had it been true, was the very thing to make the commons cling to their freedom, and keep their affairs in their own hands; and as such arguments had no effect, Charles summoned the house to the bar of the lords, and there addressed to them a most royal reproof, letting them know that it depended entirely on him whether he would call and when he would dismiss parliament, and, therefore, as they conducted themselves so should he act. Their very existence depended, he assured them, on his will.

This was language which might have done in the mouth of Henry VIII., who by the possession of the vast plunder of the church had made himself independent of parliaments, and trod on them at his pleasure; but the times and circumstances were entirely changed. The commons had learned their power and the king's weakness, and would no longer tolerate the insolence of despotism. They returned to their own house, and, to show that they were about to discuss the ​

​king's speech in a spirit which admitted of no interruption or interference, they locked the door, and put the key in the hands of Sir John Finch, their speaker. This ominous proceeding struck terror into the king, and a conference with the upper house was proposed and accepted. There Buckingham endeavoured to smooth down the royal speeches and messages into something like a bearable and constitutional shape, and to defend his own conduct. But by this time the committee of evils, causes and remedies, had come to the conclusion that the only mode of preventing the recurrence of such maladministration as Buckingham had been guilty of, was to impeach and punish him. The house accordingly passed a resolution to that effect on the 8th of May.

As if Charles were actually inspired by madness, at this moment, when he needed all the assistance of the peers to screen his favourite from the impeachment of the commons, he made a direct attack on their privileges. Lord Arundel, the earl marshal, had given some offence to Buckingham, and was well known to be decidedly hostile to him. As he possessed six proxies, it was thought a grand stroke of policy to get him out of the house at the approaching impeachment; and a plea was not long wanting. Arundel's son, lord Maltravers, had married a daughter of the duke of Lennox without consent of the king, and as Lennox was of blood-royal, this was deemed offence enough to involve Arundel himself. He was charged with not having prevented it, but he replied, that the match had been made unknown to him; that it had been secretly planned betwixt the mothers of the young people. This was not admitted, and Arundel was arrested by a royal warrant, and lodged in the Tower. The real offender, if real offence there were, was Maltravers, but it was Arundel's absence which was wanted. The lords, however, took up the matter as an infringement of their privileges; they passed a resolution that "no lord of parliament, the parliament sitting, or within the usual times of privilege of parliament, is to be imprisoned or restrained, without sentence or order of the house, unless it be for treason or felony, or for refusing to give surety for the peace."

They sent an address to Charles demanding Arundel's immediate liberation; he returned an evasive answer: they sent a second address; Charles then ordered the attorney-general to plead the royal prerogative, and to declare the earl marshal as personally offensive to the king, and as dangerous to the state. The peers would not admit the plea, but passed a resolution to suspend all business till their colleague was set at large; and after a contest of three months the king was forced to yield, and the earl marshal resumed his seat in the house amid cheers and acclamations.

But this most imprudent conflict with the peers had another and still more damaging result. The earl of Bristol, who had been so unjustly and ungraciously received, or rather, not received, on his return from his Spanish embassy, to enable Buckingham and Charles to maintain their charge against Spain, had remained an exile from court and parliament, but not without keeping a watchful eye on the progress of events. He was not a man to sit down quietly under misrepresentation and injury; and now, seeing that the peers had roused themselves from their subserviency, and were prepared to take vengeance on the common enemy, he complained to the house of peers that, as one of their order, and possessed of all their privileges, his writ of summons to parliament had been wrongfully withheld. To have withstood this demand at this moment, might have led to a dangerous excitement. The writ was therefore immediately issued, but Bristol at the same time received a private letter, charging him on pain of the king's high displeasure not to attempt to take his place. The earl at once forwarded the letter to the peers, requesting their advice upon it, on the ground that it affected their rights, being a case which might reach any other of them, and demanding that he might be permitted to take his seat in order to accuse the man who, to screen his own high crimes and misdemeanours, had for years deprived of his liberty and right a peer of the realm.

This alarming claim of the earl's struck both the king and Buckingham with terror; and to prevent, if possible, the menaced charge, the attorney-general was instantly despatched to the lords to prefer a plea of high treason against Bristol. But the peers were not thus to be circumvented. They replied that Bristol's accusation was first laid, and must be first heard; and that without the counter-charge being held to prejudice his testimony. Bristol, thus at liberty to speak out, proceeded to town and to the house of peers in triumph, his coach drawn by eight horses, caparisoned in cloth of gold or tissue; and Buckingham, as if to present a contrast of modesty, a quality wholly alien to his nature, drove thither in an old carriage with only three footmen and no retinue.

Bristol charged him with having concerted with Gondomar to inveigle the prince of Wales into Spain, in order to procure his conversion to popery prior to his marriage with the Infanta; with having complied with popish ceremonies himself; with having, whilst at Madrid, disgraced the king, his country, and himself, by his contempt of all decency, and the vileness of his profligacy. He stated that, "As for the scandal given by his behaviour, as also his employing his power with the king of Spain for the procuring of favours and offices, which he conferred on base and unworthy persons, for the recompense and hire of his lust—these things, as neither fit for the earl of Bristol to speak, nor, indeed, for the house to hear, he leaveth to your lordships' wisdoms how far it will please you to have them examined." He went on to charge him with breaking off the treaty of marriage solely through resentment, because the Spanish ministers, disgusted with his conduct, refused any negotiation with so infamous a person, and that, on his return, he had deceived both king and parliament by a most false statement. All this the earl pledged himself to prove by written documents and other most undeniable evidence.

Instead of Buckingham attempting to clear himself as an innocent man so blackened by terrible charges would, it was sought to deprive the testimony of Bristol of all value by making him a criminal and a traitor to the king whilst his representative in Spain. Charles went so far as to send the lord keeper Coventry, a most pliant courtier, to inform the lords that he would of his own knowledge clear the duke, the duke himself reserving his defence till after the impeachment by the commons. Charles not only guaranteed to vindicate Buckingham, but accused Bristol of making a ​direct charge against himself, inasmuch as he himself had been with Buckingham all the time in Spain, and had verified his narrative on his return. The peers passed this royal charge courageously by; and Charles then ordered the cause betwixt Bristol and Buckingham to be removed from the peers to the court of King's Bench; but the lords would not permit such an infringement of their privileges. They put these questions themselves to the judges—"Whether the king could be a witness in a case of treason? And whether, in Bristol's case, he could be a witness at all, admitting the treason done with his privity?" The king sent the judges an order not to answer these questions, and in the midst of these proceedings the charges against Bristol were heard, and answered by him with a spirit and clearness which appeared perfectly satisfactory to the house. The charges against him amounted to this:—That he had falsely assumed James of the sincerity of the Spanish cabinet; had concurred in a plan for inducing the prince to change his religion; that he had endeavoured to force the marriage on Charles by delivering the procuration; and had given the lie to his present sovereign by declaring false what he had vouched in Buckingham's statement to be true. These were so palpably untenable positions that the house ordered Bristol's answer to be entered on the journals, and there left the matter.

But now the impeachment of Buckingham by the commons was brought up to the lords. It consisted of thirteen articles; the principal of which were that he had not only enriched himself with several of the highest offices of the state which had never before been held by one and the same person, but had purchased for money those of high admiral and warden of the Cinque Ports; had in those offices culpably neglected the trade and the security of the coasts of the country; had perverted to his own use the revenues of the crown; had filled the court and dignities of the land with a host of his indigent relations; had put a squadron of English ships into the hands of the French, and on the other hand, by detaining for his own use a vessel belonging to the king of France, had provoked him to make reprisals on British merchants; had extorted ten thousand pounds from the East India Company; and even charged him with being accessory to the late king's death, by administering medicine contrary to the advice of the royal physicians.

Eight managers were appointed by the commons to conduct the impeachment—Sir Dudley Digges, Sir John Elliot, Serjeant Glanville, Selden, Whitelock, Pym, Herbert, and Wandsford. Digges opened the case, and was followed by Glanville, Selden, and Pym. Whilst these gentlemen were speaking and detailing the ground charges against him, Buckingham, confident in the power and will of the king to protect him, displayed the most impudent recklessness, laughing and jesting at the orators and their arguments. Serjeant Glanville, on one occasion, turned brusquely on him, and exclaimed, My lord, do you jeer at me? Are these things to be jeered at? My lord, I can show you when a man of a greater blood than your lordship, as high in place and power, and as deep in the favour of the king as you, hath been hanged for as small a crime as the least of these articles contain."

Sir John Elliot wound up the charge, and compared Buckingham to Sejanus; as proud, insolent, rapacious, an accuser of others, a base adulator, and tyrant by turns, and one who conferred commands and offices on his dependents. "Ask England, Scotland, and Ireland," exclaimed Sir John, "and they will tell you whether this man doth not the like. Sejanus's pride was so excessive, as Tacitus saith, that he neglected all counsel, mixed his business and service with the prince, and was often styled imperatoris laborum socius. My lords," he said, "I have done. You see the man; by him came all the evils; in him we find the cause; on him we expect the remedies."

The direct inference that if Buckingham was a Sejanus the king was a Tiberius, and a rumour that Elliot and Digges had hinted that in the death of the late king there was a greater than Buckingham behind, transported Charles with rage, and urged him on one more of those acts of aggression which ultimately brought him to actual battle with his parliament. He had the two offending members called out of the house as if the king required their presence, when they were seized and sent to the Tower. This outrage on the persons of their fellow members and delegated prosecutors, came like a thunder-clap on the house. There was instantly a vehement cry of "Rise! rise! rise!" The house was in a state of the highest ferment.

Charles hurried to the house of lords to denounce the imputations cast upon him, and to defend Buckingham; and Buckingham stood by his side whilst he spoke. He declared that he had punished some insolent speeches, and that it was high time, for that he had been too lenient. He would give his evidence to clear Buckingham, he said, in every one of the articles, and he would suffer no one with impunity to charge himself with having any concern in the death of his father. But all this bravado was wasted on the commons: again with closed doors they discussed the violation of their privileges, and resolved to proceed with no further business till their members should be discharged. In a few days this was done, and the house passed a resolution that the two members had only discharged their bounden duty.

At this crisis the earl of Suffolk died, leaving vacant the chancellorship of the University of Cambridge; and Charles, with that perversity which proved his ruin, seized on the opportunity to mark his friendship for Buckingham, and thus to stamp his opinion of the proceedings of the commons, to confer the honour on him. The news of Suffolk's death reached the palace early on Sunday morning, and the next day, about noon, Dr. Wilson, chaplain to Montague, lord bishop of London, arrived in Cambridge, bringing a verbal message from the bishop that the king desired the heads of houses to appoint the duke. These facile gentlemen were very ready to comply, but the fellows and younger members declared that the heads had no more to do with it than they had, and forthwith nominated Howard, earl of Berkshire, without waiting for his consent. On Tuesday morning, however, the bishop of London, with Mason, the duke's secretary, and a Mr. Cozens, arrived with the king's mandate for choosing Buckingham. Then there was a violent strife, the heads of houses and the bishop persuading and intimidating the fellows, and to such effect that at length the election of the favourite was carried by a mere majority of three. ​There was but one doctor who dared to rote against the duke; and many of the fellows who were utterly opposed to him, hired horses, and rode off out of the way to avoid importunity. Great was the triumph of the royal party when the event was announced. Buckingham presented the messenger who brought him the news with a fine gold chain, and sent by him a letter of thanks from himself, and another from the king, in which he told the heads of houses and the fellows who had voted for the duke that they should be rewarded for it, and that he would ever testify Buckingham worthy of their election. On the other hand, the house of commons passed a resolution that the election of a man under impeachment by them, was an insult to the house, and ordered this resolution to be communicated to the heads of houses, and that they should be called up to answer for their conduct. The king sent them word not to stir in this business, which, he said, belonged not to them but to him; but this resolve was only delayed by the proceedings against Buckingham.

On the 8th of June, a week after his election as chancellor of the University of Cambridge, he opened his defence in the house of lords. In this he had been assisted by Sir Nicholas Hyde. He divided the charges against him into three classes: such as were utterly unfounded in fact; such as might be true but did not affect him; and lastly, such as he had merely been the servant of the king or the executive in. In all the circumstances which could be proved, he merely acted in obedience to the late or the present king, with one exception, the purchase of the office of warden of the Cinque Ports, which he admitted that he had purchased, but which he thought might be excused on the ground of public utility. As to the grave charge of the delivery of the king's ships to the French admiral, he did not mean to go into it, not but that he could prove his own innocence in the affair, but that he was bound not to reveal the secrets of the state; and he pleaded a pardon which had been granted by the king on the 10th of February, that is, four days after the opening of the present parliament.

Thus Charles had kept his word: he had allowed the duke to throw the total responsibility of his deeds on himself, and he had granted him a pardon by anticipation, to forestall the conclusions of parliament. This defence by no means satisfied the commons, and they proceeded to reply; but in this they were stopped short by the king, who the very next day sent a message to the speaker, desiring the house to hasten and come at once to the subject of supply, or that he would "take other resolutions." The commons set themselves, without loss of time, to prepare a remonstrance in strong terms, praying for the dismissal of the favourite; but whilst employed upon it, they were suddenly summoned to the upper house, where they found commissioners appointed to pronounce the dissolution of parliament. Anticipating this movement, the speaker had carried the resolutions of remonstrance in his hand, and before the commissioners could declare parliament dissolved, the speaker held up the paper and declared its contents. The lords, on this, apprehending unpleasant consequences, sent to implore Charles to a short delay, but received the kings energetic answer—"No, not for one minute!"

Thus terminated this remarkable parliament, the second of this reign: such a session as had never before been witnessed in this country. From first to last the actions of Charles were like those of a man driven from his right reason by passion; and the conduct of the commons as the result of a settled determination to maintain its rights; which boded far more than any eye or mind could foresee, but which we, who live after the conflict, perceive clearly to be the commencement of that unexampled warfare which will for evermore display its great lesson to the nations. Charles was the blind maniac of prerogative,—blind to all signs in heaven and in earth; blind to the lurid lights of the lowering sky; deaf to the mutterings of the tempest rising hourly around him. The commons were the steadfast rock rooted in the soul of the people, and impassable to the shocks of regal rage.

Charles was left by his own wild agency to try how his fancied right divine would furnish him funds to discharge his debts at home and his obligations abroad. That he was not insensible to his danger, or to the price which he had paid for the support of his favourite, is made plain to us by Meade, the careful chronicler of the time. "The duke," he says, "being in the bed-chamber private with the king, his majesty was overheard, as they say, to use these words:— 'What can I do more? I have engaged mine honour to mine uncle of Denmark and other princes. I have, in a manner, lost the love of my subjects, and what wouldst thou have me do?' Whence some think the duke meant the king to dissolve the parliament."

But however he might feel this, he was in he disposition to take warning; the spirit and the inculcations of his father worked in him victorious over any better instincts. It was hard for the descendant of a hundred kings, who from age to age had trampled carelessly on popular rights, to give up that comfortable ascendancy to the people. Thousands of men had been arraigned and punished for high treason to kings, but for a king to be arraigned and punished for high treason against the people, could not enter into a kingly head, till such a head had fallen from the block. And towards this great lesson Charles was now driving as urged by a fate. Like the horse which pushes against the knife held to its breast, or the bull-dog which plucked the kettle from the fire because it spurted a boiling drop upon him, and died in a deadly scalding struggle with it, the courage of Charles rose doggedly, unchangeably, against all opposition and auguries, and would have been admirable had it not been exerted to annihilate the liberties of the nation for ever, to triumph over Magna Charta.

No sooner had he dismissed parliament, than he seized the earl of Bristol, and Arundel the earl marshal, and thrust Bristol into the Tower. This bit of petty spite enacted, he set about boldly to do everything that the commons had been striving against. The commons had published their remonstrance; he published a counter declaration, and commanded all persons having that of the commons to burn it, or expect his resentment. He then issued a warrant, levying duties on all exports and imports; ordered the fines from the catholics to be rigorously enforced, but offering to compound with rich recusants for an annual sum, so as to procure a fixed income from that source. A commission was issued to inquire into the proceeds of the crown lands, and to ​grant leases, remit feudal services. and convert copyholds into freeholds, on certain charges. Privy seals were again issued to noblemen, gentlemen, and merchants, for the advance of loans, and London was called on to furnish one hundred and twenty thousand pounds; and as if the king already feared that his arbitrary acts might produce disturbance, under the plea of protecting the coasts, he ordered the different sea-ports to provide and maintain during three months, a certain number of armed vessels, and the lord lieutenants of counties to muster the people, and train troops to arms to prevent internal riot or foreign invasion.

At the moment that the king was thus daringly setting both parliament and the country at defiance, came the news that a terrible battle had been fought at Luttern betwixt the Austrians under Tilly, and the protestant allies under Charles's uncle the king of Denmark; that the allies were defeated and driven across the Elbe; all their baggage and ammunition lost, and the whole circle of Lower Saxony left exposed to the soldiers of Ferdinand. This was the death-blow to the cause of the elector palatine. But Charles seized on the occasion to raise money by a fresh forced loan on a large scale, on pretence of the necessity of aiding protestantism, and as if to make the lawless demand the more intolerable, the commissioners were armed with the most arbitrary powers. Whoever refused to comply with this illegal demand, they were authorised to interrogate on oath, as to their reasons, and who were their advisers, and they were bound by oath never to divulge what passed betwixt them and the commissioners.

Charles issued a proclamation, excusing his conduct by alleging that the necessities of the state did not admit of waiting for the reassembling of parliament, and assuming his loving subjects that whatever was now paid would be remitted in the collection of the next subsidy. He also addressed a letter to the clergy, calling on them to exhort their parishioners from the pulpit to obedience and liberality. But such were the relative positions of king and parliament, that people were not very confident of any speedy grant from that body, and the good faith of both Charles and his favourite had become so dubious, that many refused to pay. The names of these were transmitted to the council, and the vengeance of the court was let loose upon them. The rich were fined and imprisoned, the poor were forcibly enrolled in the army or navy, that "they might serve with their bodies, since they refused to serve with their purses."

In vain were appeals made to the king against this intolerable tyranny, he would listen to no one. Amongst the names of those who suffered on this occasion, stand those of Sir John Elliot and John Hampden, as well as of Wentworth, soon, as Strafford, to become a proselyte of absolutism.

In towns the people did not conceal their indignation at these proceedings. "Six poor tradesmen at Chelmsford stood out stiffly, not-withstanding the many threats and promises made them;" and the Londoner loudly shouted, "A parliament! a parliament! No parliament no money!" Still Charles went on in his mad course; no voice, mortal or immortal, could even for a moment break the spell of his delusion. Such of the judges and magistrates as appeared averse to enforce the detestable orders, were summarily dismissed. Sir Randolph Carew, the chief justice of the King's Bench, must give way to the more pliant Sir Nicholas Hyde, the adviser of Buckingham. But the lawyers in general were ready enough to break the laws by order of the court, and the clergy were still more so. Laud was now advanced, for his absolute and popish predilection, to the see of Bath and Wells, and sent forth a circular to the clergy enjoining them to preach up zealously the advance of money to the crown, as a work meriting salvation. He openly advocated a strict league and confederacy betwixt the church and state, by which they might trample over all schism, heresy, and disloyalty. There was no lack of time-servers to second his efforts. Roger Mainwaring, one of the king's chaplains, a true high-priest to the golden calf, with the most shameless prostitution of the pulpit, declared before the king and court at Whitehall, that the power of the king was above all courts and parliaments; that parliament, indeed, was but an inferior kind of council, entirely at the king's will; the king's order was sufficient authority for the raising of money, and that all who refused it were guilty of unutterable sin, and liable to damnation. He insulted the Scriptures by dragging them in to prove all this; and would have sold, not his own soul only, but the souls of the whole nation to obtain a bishopric. He had his desire; and the success of such religious toadyism inflamed the clergy in the country with a like abjectness. One Robert Sibthorpe, vicar of Brockley, in an assize sermon preached at Northampton, declared that even if the king commanded people to resist the law of God, they were to obey him, to show no resistance, no railing, no reviling,—to be all passive obedience. To demonstrate the scriptural soundness of his doctrine, he quoted this verse of the book of Ecclesiastes: "Where the word of the king is, there is power; and who may say unto him what dost thou?"

Abbot, the archbishop, was applied to, to license the printing of this sermon; but the old man, who had always had a puritan leaning, which his high post only prevented him more fully demonstrating, declined to do it. In vain the king insisted; the archbishop was suspended, and sent to his country house; and Laud, who was hankering earnestly after the primacy, licensed the sermon. Sibthorpe did not fail of his reward; he was appointed chaplain in ordinary—it might have been better termed extraordinary—and received a prebend in Peterborough, and the goodly living of Burton Latimer. Andrew Marvell designated these model churchmen as "exceedingly pragmatical, intolerably ambitious, and so desperately proud that scarcely any gentleman might come near the tails of their mules." Such insolence is the eternal concomitant of the reptiles which crawl most obscenely at the foot of a good loaf and fish throne. The subserviency of the clergy was not one of the least evils which a tyrannic court fostered. The people saw more clearly than ever, that the church under such circumstances would become the stanch ally of despotism; and many even of its own honourable members, in the higher walks of life, shrunk away from it, and joined the ranks of the puritans, for no other reason than that they were resolute for the liberty of the subject.

Whilst the unhappy king was thus busily sowing the dragon's teeth which were to devour him, his domestic peace was utterly punished by the perverse temper of his ​wife, urged on by her infatuated French attendants. There was never wanting some subject of altercation. The queen was persuaded by her French advisers to give all the profitable posts connected with her dowry lands, to her country-men. This Charles would not permit, and there were high scenes betwixt them on that account. Charles himself relates one of these, and says, "Thus she plainly bade me take my lands to myself, for if she had no power to put in whom she would into those places, she would have neither lands nor houses of me. I bade her remember to whom she spoke, and then she fell into a passionate discourse, how she was miserable in having no power to place servants, and that business succeeded worse for her recommendation. When I offered to answer, she would not so much as hear me, but went on lamenting, saying, 'that she was not of such base quality as to be used so.' But," says Charles, "I both made her hear me, and end that discourse."

The king appointed the earl of Holland, formerly lord Kennington, steward of her dowry lands; but the young bishop of Mantes showed his own commission from the queen, and would not resign the office. At length Charles felt compelled to finish this state of domestic warfare by driving away the French. We have the whole proceeding in the letter of John Pory, who was at the court, to Meade, whose letters we have already quoted. "On Monday last," says Pory, writing in June, 1626, "about three in the afternoon, the king passing into the queen's side (her side of the palace at Whitehall), and finding some Frenchmen, ​her servants, irreverently curvetting and dancing in her presence took her by the hand and led her into his lodgings, locking the door after him, and shutting out all save the queen. Presently, lord Conway signified to her majesty's French servants, that, young and old, they must all depart thence to Somerset House, and remain there till they knew his majesty's pleasure. The women howled and lamented as if they were going to execution, but all in vain; for the guard, according to lord Conway's orders, thrust them all out of the queen's apartments, and locked the doors after them.

"It is said also the queen, when she understood the design, grew very impatient, and broke the glass windows with her fists; but since, I hear, her rage is appeased, and the king and she, since they went together to Nonsuch, have been very jocund together. The same day, the French being all at Somerset House, the king, as I have heard some to affirm, went thither, and made a speech to them to this purpose:—That he hoped the good king, his brother of France, would not take amiss what he had done; for the French, he said (particular persons he would not tax), had occasioned many jars and discontents between the queen and him; such, indeed, as longer were insufferable. He prayed them, therefore, to pardon him, if he sought his own ease and safety; and said, moreover, that he had given orders to his treasurer to reward every one of them for the ​year's service. So the next morning, being Tuesday, there was distributed among them eleven thousand pounds in money, and twenty thousand pounds worth of jewels."

The fact was, however, that the French retinue having the jewels in their hands, would not give them up, but carried off both them and all the queen's clothes, as perquisites, leaving her actually without a change of linen, and not without much difficulty being persuaded to give an old satin gown for her immediate use. Besides this, they had incurred many debts in her name, which she afterwards told Charles were not on her account at all.

A more absolute set of harpies certainly never alighted on a palace, and they had all the filth of harpies too. Spite of the king's orders, they still continued, on one excuse or other, to remain, till Charles's patience was exhausted, and he wrote from Oaking on the 7th of August, to Buckingham, to "force them away, driving them away like so many wild beasts, until he had shipped them. And so," said the king, "the devil go with them." But they were not so readily got rid of. The next day a great array of carriages, carts, and barges surrounded Somerset Horse, to take them off; but they refused to go, saying they had not been dismissed with the proper punctilios. The king thereupon sent trumpeters and heralds, backed by a troop of yeomanry, with orders that if they would not go out of themselves, to pack them neck and shoulders. The trumpeters proclaimed his majesty's pleasure at the gates, and the yeomen were ready to force them out; but they then thought better of it and went, but with many old outcries and grimaces. Madame St. George, gesticulating violently, and pouring forth a torrent of abuse on the barbarous English, tearing her from her mistress, a stone was flung by one of the mob, which knocked off her cap. The nobleman who was conducting her to a barge, drew his sword, and ran the man through, to the great indignation of the people, and to the additional dislike of the French.

Thus was the king relieved of sixty nuisances and perpetual firebrands in his house. The only French attendants left were the queen's nurse, her dresser, and Madame de la Tremouille, who afterwards became lady Strange, and eventually the countess of Derby, so celebrated for her defence of Latham House. For Madame de la Tremouille, the king ordered apartments in St. James's palace to be prepared; but the housekeeper sent word that "her majesty's French retinue had so defiled that palace, that it would be long before it could be purified."

This unceremonious ejection made a strange sensation in the French court, whither the crowd of fugitives betook themselves, with loud representations and misrepresentations of their injuries, and of the king's barbarous treatment of the queen. Louis threatened war, and his two formal and foolish ambassadors, Tillers and Blainville, only kept up the feeling of animosity. Sir Dudley Carleton, whom Charles despatched to Paris to explain the whole affair, was at first refused admittance to the king's presence, and the queen's mother and Richelieu gave him a very cold reception. But at length it was resolved to send marshal de Bassompierre to London, as ambassador, to hear from Henrietta herself the statement of her injuries. Bassompierre was a witty, accomplished, and gay courtier, having the reputation of considerable profligacy, but clear-sighted, and as his conduct showed in the whole affair, a very capable and straightforward man. To make the embassy as offensive as possible, father Sancy, whom Charles had expelled, was sent back in the character of Bassompierre's chaplain. The ambassador complained of the arrangement, and of the mischief it was likely to do. Accordingly, no sooner did Bassompierre arrive, in September, than the king sent to him his master of the ceremonies, Sir Lewis Lewknor, to insist that Sancy should be immediately ordered back again. Bassompierre, though himself unwillingly having him in his train, stood upon his right, as ambassador, to name his own chaplain.

Buckingham then waited on Bassompierre from the king, and desired that none of the matters in question should be entered upon at his public reception, for otherwise he would not receive him. He informed the ambassador that the king felt he could not go into the questions in dispute without losing his temper, which before the chief persons of the realm would not be beseeming, and that the queen might on their mention, commit some extravagance which would make things worse. Bassompierre was, therefore, received by the king and queen with much honour at Hampton Court; and the king informed him that as the queen was anxious to inquire all about her family, he had arranged that she should go to London, where she could converse at her pleasure with him. The feelings of the queen were so difficult to restrain, that saying a few words to the ambassador, tears rushed into her eyes, and she retired with Madame de la Tremouille to hide her emotion.

Bassompierre, in fact, found the queen in the highest state of exasperation both against the king and Buckingham; but he was not long in perceiving that Henrietta had been mis-advised, and led wrong by those who had been about her; and he set about earnestly and honestly to smooth her excitement and reconcile her with both parties. Buckingham had sided with the king, and in one of Henrietta's perverse moments, had told her to beware how she behaved, for in England queens had had their heads cut off before now. This was deeply resented by Henrietta, and the parties appeared irreconcilable. Yet Bassompierre determined to make peace, though for some time it appeared a doubtful attempt. Charles at their first private interview became extremely excited, and asked Bassompierre whether he was come to declare war against him. "I am not a herald, to declare war," calmly replied the ambassador, "but a marshal of France to make it when declared."

Charles then laid before Bassompierre a statement of his causes of complaint against the French attendants whom he had sent away. These were, that they had used their influence to create in the queen a repugnance to all that the king proposed or desired, and to foment a constant state of discord betwixt their majesties. That the priests had got to know everything that passed, and told it to others, and had done their best to strengthen the hands of the opposition in parliament against the king. That they had endeavoured to inspire the queen with a contempt of England, of its language and habits, and had used her very apartments for a rendezvous of the Jesuits and fugitives, and a place of refuge for the persons and effects of individuals who had violated the laws. That the bishop and his faction ​had carried their machinations far, and had taken houses in the suburbs in their own names to shelter such disaffected and outlawed personages. And finally, they had abused their power over the queen by making her go publicly to a place (Tyburn) where many catholics had suffered in past times, whereby they sought her to regard those executed malefactors as martyrs, and his ancestors as tyrants and persecutors.

This last charge we find thus stated by Pory in his letter to Meade on the 5th of July, 1626—"And no longer ago than upon St. James's Day last, these hypocritical dogs made the poor queen to walk a-foot, some add barefoot, from her house in St. James's to the gallows at Tyburn, thereby to honour the saint of the day in visiting that holy place, where so many martyrs, forsooth, had shed their blood in defence of the catholic cause. Had they not also made her to dabble in the dirt on a foul morning from Somerset House to St. James's, her Luciferian confessor riding along by her in his coach! Yes, they have made her go barefoot, to spin, to eat her meat out of tryne (woollen) dishes, to wait at the table, and serve her servants; with many other ridiculous and absurd fooleries."

Charles thoroughly believed in the walk to Tyburn, but the queen stoutly denied it, representing it to have originated in an accidental walk on a summer's afternoon in the parks of St. James's and Hyde Park; and Bassompierre, in an eloquent speech before the privy council, maintained that view of it. After much exertion Bassompierre succeeded, but not before the latter end of November, in settling all difficulties and reconciling all parties. He first produced a reconciliation betwixt the queen and Buckingham, which delighted Charles so much, that it facilitated greatly an amicable arrangement for the queen's future household. It was conceded that the queen should have a bishop and ten priests, a confessor and his coadjutor, and ten musicians for her chapel. The chapel of St. James's was to be finished, and another built for her at Somerset House. She was to have in attendance on her person two ladies of the bed-chamber, three bed-chamber women, one lingère, and a clear-starcher, all French. Two physicians, an apothecary, and a surgeon. A grand chamberlain, a squire, a secretary, a gentleman-usher of the privy-chamber, one of the chamber of presence, a valet of the privy chamber, and a baker. All her officers of the mouth and the goblet were to be French.

Ample as these concessions appear, Bassompierre found the queen still unsatisfied, and plainly told her that he would the next day take his leave, return to France, and declare to the king her brother, and her mother, that she alone was in fault. This appeared to have full effect, and Bassompierre had the merit of a most perfect success in this arduous case; for ever after the king and queen lived in great unity and affection, and however the world went with them, showed a genuine and deep attachment to each other; an ample proof of the mischief having originated with her mischievous attendants.

From the question of domestic difference, Bassompierre and the king in council proceeded to topics of national difference. Each party had something to complain of. Bassompierre complained that the marriage treaty had been violated at every point; that Charles had bound himself both to permit the tree exercise of the queen's religion, and toleration of the catholics at large; but that his treatment of the queen and her retinue, and his persecution of the catholics were, notwithstanding, patent breaches of this contract. The council denied the persecution, endeavouring to get rid of the charge by alleging that Charles himself had made no new laws against the catholics, but had only administered those which had descended to him. This was no answer, for it was a suppression of those laws of his father's that the French had bargained for; and when this point was pressed, the council admitted that Charles had agreed to certain clauses in the marriage treaty, and had confirmed them since coming to the throne; but they declined that his majesty had regarded these clauses as merely pro formâ, and only intended to satisfy the catholic party in France, and the pope, without whom the marriage could not be effected. This was a doctrine so profligate, and so destructive of all faith in those that used it, that none but the believers in the treacherous principle of kingcraft, could have used it. It was with better show of reason that they objected, the French king had pledged himself to an alliance offensive and defensive for the restoration of the prince palatine, but had done nothing, furnished neither money nor men; on the contrary, he had refused a passage to the troops of court Mansfeldt, Frederick's general. They accused Louis also of infraction of the treaty with regard to the Huguenots, especially those of Rochelle; and avowed that Charles felt himself bound by that contract to support them in their just demands. They also contended that as it regarded the queen's religion, no restraint had been put upon it, for that her priests and attendants had not been sent back because they were catholics, but because they had been disturbers of his majesty's household and government.

It was finally concluded that Henrietta should have one French bishop, twelve French priests, none of whom were to be Jesuits, and various other functionaries, as already mentioned; with which Bassompierre expressed himself fully satisfied, on Charles promising not to enforce the penalties against recusants, and releasing the catholic priests now in prison on account of their religion. Charles promised, but his promises were worth nothing after his avowal in council of making promises or taking oaths just for present convenience; and he actually gave up the priests, seventeen in number, who went over to France in the train of the ambassador, a clear proof that they had no faith in the king's pledge of abstaining from persecution.

Bassompierre, on arriving at Paris, was coldly received by the king and queen-mother, because he had not insisted on the rigid performance of all the marriage articles; which had he done, would have certainly left the reconciliation unaccomplished. One request which he had to prefer he knew beforehand would be rejected. Buckingham, unabashed by the blunt and significant refusal of his proposal to return to Paris, had importuned Bassompierre to again request that he might go there as ambassador. A still more prompt and blunt denial was given, and the foolish duke determined to have his revenge. From that moment the attack of France was prepared for with all the diligence of rancour.

The state of feeling on both sides of the channel, indeed. ​hastened an open rupture. The French were highly incensed at the treatment of the queen's retinue, and the most sinister reports were propagated amongst the people, who readily imbibed the idea that their princess was a victim in the hands of her heretic husband; and they were ready to avenge themselves on England or on the protestants of their own country. On the other hand, Charles regarded his disasters, the defeat of his brother-in-law's allies in Germany, and his consequent unpopularity at home, to the failure of Louis of France in giving the aid which he had promised. Through this defaulture Charles considered that he had sunk a million of money, ten thousand soldiers, and lost the favour of his own people. In these ideas he was strengthened by the emissaries of the French protestants; and very soon Devic and Montague were despatched by Charles to concert measures with the Huguenots, and Soubise and Brancard were received at London as their envoys here. It was finally determined that Charles should send a fleet and army to Rochelle, which the duke de Rohan should join with four thousand men. It was rumoured that it was planned for a protestant state to be established betwixt the Loire and the Garonne, at the head of which Buckingham should be placed. That there was some great scheme of the kind is certain, for Charles, in dismissing ambassadors from his uncle, the king of Denmark, said that he kept his full intent from them, "for," he says, "I think it needless, or rather hurtful, to discover my main intent in this business, because divulging it, in my mind, must needs hazard it."

Meantime France, on its side, had not been inactive. Richelieu had listened not only to the discontent of the French at the concessions made by Bassompierre, but to the urgent entreaties of the pope's nuncio, who had never ceased, since the expulsion of Henrietta's priests, to call on Louis to avenge that insult to the church, and had concluded a treaty with Spain, for mutual defence, and for the punishment of England. They regarded the fleet preparing in the English ports, on the pretence of chastising the Algerines, and giving aid to the palsgrave, as really destined against France and Spain, and they planned not only a defence of their own coasts, but a descent on those of England. It was agreed that Spanish ships should be received in French ports, and French ones in those of Spain.

The English, on their part, swept the ships of all nations from the sea, on the plea that they might contain Spanish goods. Letters of mark were issued, and no nations were spared by the cruisers, not even those in alliance with England. The Hanse Towns, the Dutch States, and even the king of Denmark, had to make zealous remonstrances. Louis of France had not confined himself to remonstrances even before signing the treaty with Spain, but had laid an embargo on all English ships in French harbours. But now orders were issued by both the French and English courts for the suspension of all commercial intercourse betwixt the two nations.

On the 27th of June, 1627, the English fleet sailed out of Portsmouth. It consisted of forty-two ships of war, thirty-four transports, and carried seven regiments of infantry, of nine hundred men each, a squadron of cavalry, and a numerous body of French protestants, altogether about seven or eight thousand men. That it might this time succeed, Buckingham took the command of it, for in him self-conceit he attributed all the former failures to his not being on the spot in person, to give the troops the advantage of his consummate genius and experience; the whole of him military genius, if he had any, being yet to be discovered, and the whole of his experience amounting to having seen soldiers on parade. His plans were kept so secret—even from the friends with whom he was to co-operate—that arriving on the 11th of July before Rochelle, the inhabitants refused to permit him to land. It was in vain that Sir William Beecher and their own envoy Soubise entreated them to receive those who were come as their allies and defenders: the people distrusted Buckingham, and declared that they would make no hostile demonstration against Louis till they had consisted the other churches, and got in their harvest. This displayed a dreadful want of management on the part of the English; and Buckingham, thus shut out by those whom he came to support, turned his attention to the neighbouring isles of Rhé and Oleron, which the Huguenots had some time ago surrendered to their king. He decided to invade Rhé, and made his descent the very next day, on the 12th of July. His sudden diversion in this direction took Toiras, the governor of the island, by surprise; the small force with which he attempted to prevent their landing was defeated; but Buckingham, loitering on the shore for four or five days, in landing the remainder of his troops, allowed Toiras to convey the provisions, wine, and ammunition on the island, into the strong citadel of the town of St. Martin. A small fort called St. Preé lay in Buckingham's path, but he did not stay to take that, but pushed on to St. Martin. The castle stood on a rock overlooking the town and bay, and experienced officers were struck with great misgivings at the sight of it. Buckingham talked of taking it by a coup de main, but Sir John Burrough, an officer who had acquired a real knowledge of war and sieges in the Netherlands, shook his head, and pronounced the place next to impregnable, and that an attempt to storm it would be a useless waste of lives. It was then determined to invest the place in form; but Burrough was equally dissatisfied with the unscientific construction of the trenches and batteries which were prepared. Buckingham, instead of benefiting by the counsel of this experienced officer, reprimanded him with a sternness which silenced more compliant men. In a few days a shot silenced altogether the honestly officious Burrough, and the duke went on with his siege only to find that, as that officer had predicted, the fort defied all his efforts.

The news of this attack on France spread consternation amongst the allies of the palsgrave; the prince himself, the States of Holland, and the king of Denmark, all hastened to express their astonishment and dismay at this rupture betwixt the two great powers who should have enabled them by their united efforts to re-conquer the Palatinate. They would not admit Charles's representation of his obligation to support the French protestants, as of sufficient moment to induce him to destroy the hopes of protestantism in Germany, and of his own sister and brother-in-law. They begged to be permitted to mediate betwixt the two crowns: Denmark sent ambassadors instanter to Paris, to use its influence for that purpose with the French court; and the Dutch ​deprived of their commissions all English officers in their service, who had joined the expedition to Rochelle.

But they could not move Charles. He wrote to Buckingham, congratulating him on the success of his attempt on Rhé, which was yet no success at all; promising him fresh reinforcements and provisions, and exhorting him to prosecute the war with vigour, and to listen to no proposals of peace. He applauded a proclamation which Buckingham had prepared, to assure the French protestants that the king of England had no intention of conquest, his sole object being to compel the king of France to fulfil his engagements towards the French protestants into which he had entered with them. That, spite of these engagements, he had not dismantled the Fort Louis, in the vicinity of Rochelle; but, on the contrary, had endeavoured to surprise the town and reduce it by force to comply with his own religious demands. Charles, however, ordered Buckingham to make an alteration in the manifesto, so that instead of the defence of the protestants being the sole cause of his coming, it should be the chief cause, and allow him to put forward other reasons for his hostilities as occasion might require.

With this proclamation in his hand, the duke de Rohan made a tour amongst the Huguenot churches in the south of France, where the people listened to him with enthusiasm, and all who dissented from the vow to live and die with the English liberators, were denounced as traitors. Rohan was empowered to raise forces and advance to the support of Rochelle; but Rochelle itself was in no haste to declare itself, for Richelieu had marched an army into the neighbourhood, and kept it in check. It was the last to hoist the flag of revolt, and it was for the last time.

But all this time Buckingham was experiencing the truth of the warnings of Burrough: no impression whatever was made on the citadel of St. Martin. Charles's promised reinforcements did not arrive. He wrote to explain the causes of the delay—being the difficulty of obtaining mariners, and the slowness of the commissioners of the navy; but he assured him that the earl of Holland was preparing to bring out fresh forces. On the 12th of August there was a rumour of an attempt to assassinate Buckingham by a Jesuit, with a thick three-edged knife; but a real wound was inflicted on his reputation by a French flotilla bursting the boom which he had drawn across the harbour, spite of his fleet, and throwing provisions into fort St. Martin, spite of himself. This disaster produced the most violent altercations betwixt his ill-managed army and fleet. The army charged the misfortune to the sheer negligence of the fleet, and the fleet only answered by loud clamours for pay, having, it appeared, received nothing the whole time.

Under these circumstances Buckingham displayed all the wavering confusion of mind which characterises an inefficient commander. One day he was ready to comply with the written requisition of the officers of the army to abandon the siege; the next, he determined to stay and assault the place. This state of miserable vacillation was terminated by the arrival of the earl of Holland on the 27th of October, with fifteen hundred men; and the Rochellais sending eight hundred more, it was resolved to make a general assault on the place. On the 6th of November this assault began, but the cannonade produced no effect on the adamantine works and solid walls of the fort; the slaughter of the troops on all sides was terrible, and the attempt was abandoned. Buckingham then wished himself safe on board his fleet; but unfortunately for him and his army, the marshal Schomberg had now posted himself with a strong force on the island betwixt him and his vessels. He had occupied and garrisoned Fort Prée, which Buckingham had so imprudently left in his rear, and compelled him now to defile his army along a narrow causeway across the marshes, connecting the small island of Oie with that of Rhé. Nothing could demonstrate more forcibly the utter incompetence of Buckingham for military command than thus suffering the enemy to land and lodge in the line of his retreat. Schomberg now attacked the defiling troops with his ordnance, and the cavalry in the rear. The cavalry was thrown into confusion, and the pressure and disorder on the causeway became frightful; the artillery played upon them with dreadful effect, and numbers were pushed off into the bordering bogs and salt pits and suffocated. The destruction soon amounted to twelve hundred men, and twenty pair of colours were taken. There was no want of courage exhibited by either Buckingham or his men. Courage, it has been well said, was the sole qualification for a general which he possessed; he was the last to leave the beach; and the men once off the causeway, turned resolutely and offered battle to Schomberg. But that prudent general was satisfied to let them go away, which they prepared to do, to the utter consternation of the people of Rochelle, who had risen on the strength of their promises, and were now exposed to a formidable army under the command of Gaston, duke of Orleans, and Schomberg.

A really good general, though he had suffered considerable loss, would still have thrown himself into Rochelle, and with the sea kept open by his fleet for supplies, might have yet done signal service in defence of the place. But Buckingham was no such general. He determined to withdraw, contemplating another enterprise equally impossible to him as the taking of the citadel of St. Martin. He had an idea of the glory and popularity of recovering Calais, and communicated this notable project to the king. Charles was charmed with the project, and as he had assured Buckingham that he had done wonders, and almost impossibilities on the island of Rhé, so he anticipated an equally splendid result: this in any other man except Charles, would have looked like bitter irony. In the eyes of the more sensible officers of the fleet and army, the notion of attempting the surprise of Calais with a reduced and defeated force, and such a general, was scouted as madness. Buckingham turned the prows of his fleet homewards, and arrived towards the end of November. The fleet and army were indignant at the disgraceful management of the campaign; the people at home were equally so at the waste of public money, and the ruin of national honour; but Charles received Buckingham with undiminished affection, and took to himself the blame of the failure of the expedition, because he had not been able to send sufficient reinforcements and provisions. But he was not long suffered to ran on without an impressive reminder of the consequences of this scandalously managed attempt. The people of Rochelle sent over envoys to represent to him their condition, in consequence of listening to his promises; the French were ​beleaguering their town, and the most terrible fate awaited them if they were thus deceived and abandoned. Charles gave them comfortable words, and entered into a solemn engagement to stand by them so long as their forts could resist the enemy, and to make no peace without the guarantee of all their ancient liberties.

But how were these grandiloquous words to be redeemed? He had exhausted all the resources of his arbitrary exactions, and had incurred an additional amount of unpopularity by seizing and imprisoning numbers of those who refused to submit to a forced loan; and when they demanded a fair hearing through the exercise of the habeas corpus, they were told that the king's command superseded that. The crown lawyers, in fact, vaunted the royal will as the supreme law, whilst Selden, Coke, and the constitutional lawyers referred them to Magna Charta, which had been thirty times confirmed by the kings, and thus aroused a wonderful feeling of popular right in the kingdom.

Whilst such was the state of public feeling, the usual pressure for money rendered it necessary to adopt some means of raising it. Besides the requirements of the home government, the proposed aid to the people of Rochelle made immediate funds necessary. To attempt extorting supplies by the modes which had so exasperated the public, was a course which all reasonable men regarded with repugnance and apprehension. Charles himself would have braved any danger rather than that of meeting parliament, with all its remonstrances and demands of redress of public grievances; but his council urged him to make another trial of the commons, and he consented. The writs were issued on the 29th of January, for the assembling of parliament on the 17th of March. Yet in the course of that very week the king ​proceeded to repeat the very conduct which parliament had so strongly condemned, and which must render its meeting the more formidable. He required one hundred and seventy-three thousand four hundred and eleven pounds for the outfit of the expedition to Rochelle, and instead of waiting a grant from parliament, Charles ordered the money to be raised by a commission from the counties, and that within three weeks. With that irritating habit which he had inherited from his father, he added a menace, saying that if they paid this tax cheerfully, he would meet his parliament, if not, "he would think of some more speedy way"

Conduct so reckless and insulting on the very eve of the opening of parliament, raised the wildest ferment in the public: the commissioners shrank in terror from their task, and Charles hastened to revoke the commission, saying ​that "he would rely on the love of his people in parliament." This was on the 16th of February, but like Pharaoh, Charles repented himself of his momentary concession, and on the 28th he issued an order to raise the money which the counties had refused, by a duty on merchandise. The merchants were, however, not a whit more willing to submit to an illegal imposition, nor more timid than the counties; the ministers trembled before the storm, and anticipated certain impeachment; the judges pronounced the duty illegal, and once more Charles recalled his order.

What rendered the public more sensitive to these acts of royal licence was, that a number of foreign troops were about to be brought into the kingdom, on the plea of employing them against France, but which the people saw might be turned against themselves or their representatives. They were, therefore, worked up to a pitch of extreme excitement, and bestirred themselves to send up to the house of commons a body of such men as should not be readily intimidated. Never before had parliament assembled under such favourable circumstances. Daring as had been the king's assaults on the public liberties, this had only served to rouse the nation to a resolute resolve to withstand his contempt of Magna Charta at all hazards. Westminster elected one Bradshaw, a brewer, and Maurice, a grocer. Huntingdon sent up a far more remarkable man, one Oliver Cromwell, the first time that he had been returned to parliament from any place. There was a general enthusiasm to turn out all such members as had been inert, indifferent, or ready to betray their trusts out of terror or a leaning towards the court. When the members assembled the house was crowded; there were four hundred such men as had rarely sate in any English parliament before. Both county and town had selected such brave, patriotic, and substantial freeholders, merchants, and traders, as made sycophants and time-servers tremble. They were no longer the timid commons who had formerly scarcely dared to look the lords or even the knights in the face; they were well aware of their power, and in wealth itself they were said to be three times superior to the house of peers. In running his eye over them, a spectator would see such men as Cromwell, Hampden, Selden, Pym, Hollis, Elliot, Dudley Digges, Coke, Wentworth (soon to apostatise), and others, with intellects illumined by the study of the orators, lawgivers, and philosophers of republican Greece, animated with the great principles of Christianity, and with resolutions like (illegible text)on. Many of these men had been attended to London by trains of their neighbours, sturdy freeholders and substantial shopkeepers, more numerous than the retinues of any lords, such was the intense expectation of what might ensue, and the prompt resolve to stand by their representatives. And they were not deceived, for this third parliament of Charles I. marked itself out as one of the great land-marks of our history.

The king was conscious that if he hoped to gain his great object from them—money—he must curb his haughty temper, and assume a conciliating manner. He therefore, just before the opening of the session, liberated seventy-eight gentlemen who had been imprisoned for refusing to pay the forced loan; he let the earl of Bristol out of the Tower, though he lay under an impeachment for high treason; accorded the same favour to bishop Williams, whom Buckingham had caused to be lodged there; and restored archbishop Abbot, who had been suspended for refusing to license Sibthorpe's base sermon. But when he had made all these concessions to popular opinion, Charles could not command his inveterate habit of threatening, and so spoilt all. In his opening speech he said:—"I have called you together, judging a parliament to be the ancient, speediest, and best way to give such supply as to secure themselves and save our friends from imminent ruin. Every man must now do according to his conscience; wherefore, if you, which God forbid, should not do your duties in contributing what this state at this time needs, I must, in discharge of my conscience, use those other means which God hath put into my hands, to save that which the follies of other men may otherwise hazard to lose. Take not this as threatening—I scorn to threaten any but my equals—but as an admonition from him that, both out of nature and duty, hath most care of your preservation and properties."

This was followed by an equally impolitic speech of the lord keeper Coventry, who informed the commons that the king had come to parliament, not because it was at all necessary, not because he was destitute of other means, but because it was more agreeable to the goodness of his most gracious disposition. And then added, "If this be deferred, necessity and the sword may make way for others. Remember his majesty's admonition; I say, remember it."

Surely if the veriest novices in government had been set to talk to parliament, they could not have done it in a more insane, blundering style. If the commons had had as little tact as the king and his minister, there would have been hard words hurled back again, and the parliament would have been not many days ere it had ceased to exist. But the commons had men as profound as these were shallow. They took all patiently, and set about quietly to determine on the question of supplies. They came to the resolution to offer ample ones—no less than five subsidies, the whole to be paid within one year—but they tagged this simple condition to them, that the king should give them a guarantee against any further invasion of their rights.

As we have already stated, during the past year many gentlemen had been imprisoned for refusing to pay the demands of the king made without sanction of parliament. Five of them had been, at their own request, brought before the King's Bench by writ of habeas corpus, and their counsel demanded that, as they were charged with no particular offence, but merely committed at the particular command of the king, they should be discharged or admitted to bail; but both were refused. The question was now discussed by the house, and it was resolved that no subsidy should pass without a remedy granted against this royal licence. "It will in us be wrong done to ourselves," said Sir Francis Seymour, "to our posterity, to our consciences, if we forego this just claim and pretension."

"We must indicate what?" demanded Wentworth; "new things? No; our ancient, legal, and vital liberties, by enforcing the laws enacted by our ancestors; by setting such a stamp upon them that no licentious spirit shall dare henceforth to invade them." In the repeated debates which followed. Sir Edward Coke particularly distinguished himself, ​old as he was, by his powerful and undaunted speeches. He called upon the members to stand by the ancient laws, and was stoutly seconded by other members, who narrated the infringement of those laws by the abuses of raising money by loans, by benevolences, and privy seals; by billeting soldiers, and imprisonment of men for refusing these illegal demands, and their refusal of the benefit of the habeas corpus. In vain were the speakers warned by the court party to beware of distrusting the king, who had been driven to these measures by necessity, and by others, who declared that such was the king's goodness that it was next only to that of God. But Coke cried out, "Let us work whilst we have time! I am absolutely for giving supply to his majesty, but yet with some caution. Let us not flatter ourselves. Who will give subsidies if the king may impose what he will? I know he is a religious king, free from personal vices, but he deals with other men's hands, and sees with other men's eyes."

This was approaching the subject of the favourite, which even the boldest were afraid of touching, but which Coke soon after entered upon plainly, and with all courage.

On the 8th of May the house passed the four following resolutions, without a dissentient voice even from the courtiers—1st, That no freeman ought to be restrained or imprisoned, unless some lawful cause of such restraint or imprisonment be expressed. 2nd, That the writ of habeas corpus ought to be granted to every man imprisoned or restrained, though it be at the command of the king or privy council, if he pray for the same. 3rd, That when the return expresses no cause of commitment or restraint, the party ought to be delivered or bailed. 4th. That it is the ancient and undoubted right of every free man, that he hath a full and absolute property in his goods and estates, and that no tax, loan, or benevolence ought to be levied by the king or his ministers, without common consent by act of parliament.

It was clear from these resolutions, that unless Charles chose to forego his illegal practices of raising money without consent of parliament, and imprisoning the subjects without any warrant but his own will, he must abandon all idea of the five subsidies; but his necessities were too great, and the difficulties in the way of continuing to plunder people at his pleasure too formidable to allow him lightly to give up the tempting offer. The loans were less determined than the commons, and this gave him some encouragement. The subject was argued in the commons on his behalf by the attorney-general and the king's counsel, but they found the leading members of the house too strong in their knowledge of constitutional law to be moved from their grand propositions. In the course of the debate the interference of Buckingham was felt, and the brave Sir John Elliot did not let that pass without criticism. "I know not," he said, "by what fatality or importunity it has crept in, but I observe in the close of Mr. Secretary's relation, mention made of another in addition to his majesty, and that which hath been formerly a matter of complaint, I find here still,—a mixture with his majesty, not only in business, but in name. Let me beseech you, sir, let no man hereafter within these walls, take this boldness to introduce it."

On the 28th of May the commons presented to his majesty their celebrated petition of right; a document destined to become celebrated, a confirmation of Magna Charta, and the origin of our Bill of Right secured in 1688, on which rests all the fabric of our present liberties. This petition was based on the four resolutions. It commenced by reminding the monarch of the great statutes passed by some of the most celebrated of his ancestors, which he had been so long and pertinaciously outraging. That the statute De Tallagio non concedendo, made in the reign of Edward I., provided that no tallage nor aid could be levied by the king without consent of parliament. That by another statute of the 25th year of Edward III., no person could be compelled to make any loan to the king without such sanction; such loans being against reason and the charters of the land. There could be no dispute here—the king stood palpably convicted, and had he acted in ignorance, could do so no longer. It then went on:—"And by other laws of this realm, it is provided that none shall be charged by any charge or imposition called a benevolence, nor by such like charge; by which statutes before mentioned, and the other good laws and statutes of the realm, your subjects have inherited this freedom, that they should not be compelled to contribute to any tax, tallage, aid, or other like charge, not set by common consent in parliament: yet, nevertheless, of late, divers commissions, directed to sundry commissioners, in several counties, with instructions, have issued, by pretext whereof your people have been in divers places assembled, and required to lend certain sums of money unto your majesty; and many of them, upon their refusal to do so, have had an unlawful oath administered unto them, not warrantable by the laws and statutes of this realm, and have been constrained to become bound to make appearance and give attendance before your privy council in other places; and others of them have therefore been imprisoned, confined, and sundry other ways molested and disquieted; and divers other charges have been laid and levied upon your people in several counties, by lords-lieutenant, commissioners for musters, justices of peace, and others, by command or direction from your majesty or your privy council, against the laws and free customs of this realm."

The petition next set forth that divers persons refusing to pay these impositions had been imprisoned without cause shown, and on being brought up by habeas corpus to have their cause examined, had been sent back to prison without such fair trial and examination. From this it proceeded to the fact that numbers of soldiers had been billeted in private houses, contrary to the laws, and persons tried by martial law, in cases where they were only amenable to the common law of the land; and moreover, officers and ministers of the king had screened soldiers and sailors who had committed robberies, murders, and other felonies, on the plea that they were only responsible to military tribunals. All these breaches of the statutes, the petition prayed the king to cause to cease, as being contrary to the rights and liberties of the subject, as secured by the laws of the land.

The petition was so clear, and the statutes quoted were so undeniable, that Charles was puzzled what to do. To refuse the prayer of the commons was to forfeit the five tempting subsidies; to admit it simply and fully was to confess that ​he had hitherto been altogether wrong, and to leave himself no loop-hole of excuse for the future. Instead, therefore, of adopting the established form of saying, in the old Norman words, "Soit droit fait comme il est desiré," he wrote at the foot of the petition, this loose and most absurd assent—"The king willeth that right be done according to the laws and customs of the realm; and that the statutes be put in due execution, that his subjects may have no cause to complain of any wrongs or oppressions, contrary to their just rights and liberties, to the preservation whereof he holds himself in conscience as well obliged as of his own prerogative."

This left the matter precisely where it was, for the king had always contended that he did nothing but what was warranted by his prerogative. The house felt this, and at once expressed their grievous disappointment. To add to their chagrin, Charles sent a message to them, informing them that he should dissolve parliament on the 11th of June, it now being the 5th. A deep and melancholy silence pervaded the house, which locked the doors to prevent interruption, and debated the matter in all earnestness. A second message from his majesty, commanding them not to cast or lay aspersions on any minister of his majesty, added greatly to the concern of the house. On the day but one before Sir John Elliot had urged the necessity of a "declaration" to his majesty, showing the decay and contempt of religion, and the insufficiency of his ministers; the chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster had styled Sir John's speech "strange language," and had declared that if Sir John went on, he would go out; upon which the house told him plainly to take himself off. This had brought down the king's second message. A Mr. Alured, or Aldred, writing on the 6th to a friend, describes the 5th, on which the king's message came to the house, as "a day of desolation amongst us in parliament." The debate went on amid tears and deep emotion from strong and long practised men; as if they perceived that the great crisis of the nation was come, and foresaw the bloodshed and misery which were to follow if they stood firm to their knowledge of the right; the slavery and degradation of England if they did not.

Sir Robert Philips, interrupted by sobs and weeping, said, "I perceive that towards God and towards man there is little hope, after our humble and careful endeavours, seeing our sins are many and so great. I consider my own infirmities, and if ever my passions were wrought upon, it is now. This message stirs me up, especially when I remember with what moderation we have proceeded." These earnest and religious men feared that God was hardening the heart of the king as he had done that of Pharaoh, in order to punish the nation for its backslidings and wickedness. "Our sins," said Sir John Elliot, "are so exceeding great, that unless we speedily turn to God, God will remove himself farther from us. You know with what affection and integrity we have proceeded hitherto, to gain his majesty's heart; and, out of the necessity of our duty, were brought to that course we were in: I doubt a misrepresentation to his majesty hath drawn this mark of his displeasure upon us. I observe in the message, amongst other sad particulars, it is conceived that we were about to lay some aspersions upon the government. Give me leave to protest that so clear were our intentions, that we desire only to vindicate these dishonours to our king and country. It is said also as if we cast some aspersions on his majesty's ministers; I am confident no minister, how dear soever, can——"

Elliot was interrupted by Sir John Finch, the speaker, who had for some time been more and more sidling away to the favour of the king, starting up and exclaiming, "There is a command laid upon me, to interrupt any that shall go about to lay an aspersion on the ministers of state." A clear infringement of the privilege of parliament, which the house was not disposed to pass by. Sir John Elliot, thus snubbed, sate down, and there remained a significant silence for some minutes. Then Sir Dudley Digges rose and said, "Unless we may speak of these things, let us arise and begone, or sit still and do nothing." There was another deep silence, at length broken by Sir Nathaniel Rich, who said, "We must now speak, or for ever hold our peace. For us to be silent when king and kingdom are in this calamity, is not fit. The question is, whether we shall secure ourselves by our silence—yea or no? Let us go to the lords and show our dangers, that we may then go to the king together with our representation thereof." Prynne, Coke, and others, spoke to the same effect, and Coke was so overwhelmed with his feelings, grown old as he was, at the bar, on the bench, and in the house, that he was obliged to sit down.

The house resolved itself into a committee for more freedom of discussion, and put Mr. Whitly into the chair. Finch, the speaker, begged leave, as he was leaving the chair, for half an hour's absence. The house knew very well that he only wanted to run off and tell the king what was going on, but they let him go, and away he bustled to Whitehall. The house then passed an order, declaring that no man should leave the house under penalty of being committed to the Tower. Then Mr. Kirton rose, and declaring that the king in himself was as good a prince as ever reigned, said "it was high time to find out the enemies of the commonwealth, who had so prevailed with him, and then he doubted not but God would send them hearts, hands, and swords, to cut all their throats." He added that the speaker to desire to leave the house as he had done, was unprecedented, and to his mind ominous. Sir Edward Coke once more endeavoured to say what he had not been able to say before, but which must be said, and none so proper as this veteran statesman to say it. "I now see," he observed, "that God has not accepted our humble and moderate carriages and fair proceedings; and I fear the reason is that we have not dealt sincerely with the king, and made a true representation of the causes of all these miseries. Let us take this to heart. In the time of Edward III. had parliament any doubt as to naming men that misled the king? They accused John of Gaunt, the king's son, lord Latimer, and lord Neville, for misadvising the king; and they went to the Tower for it. And now, when there is such a downfall of the state, shall we hold our tongues? Why," continued he, "may we not name those who are the cause of all our evils?" And he added, "Let us palliate no longer; if we do, God will not prosper us. I think the duke of Buckingham is the cause, and till the duke be informed thereof, we shall never go out with honour, nor sit with honour here. That man ​is the grievance of grievances! Let us set down the causes of all our disasters, and they will all reflect upon him. As to going to the lords, that is not via regia; our liberties are now impeached; we are deeply concerned; it is not via regia, for the lords are not participant with our liberties. It is not the king but the duke that saith, We require you not to meddle with state affairs, or the ministers thereof. Did not his majesty, when prince, attend the upper house in our prosecution of lord chancellor Bacon and the lord treasurer Middlesex?"

The secret was out; the word was spoken! The name at which Charles and the duke had trembled, lest it should come into discussion, was, spite of threats and messages, named; and the naming, and the charging with all the disgraces and miseries of the nation, was received with a sudden and general acclamation of "Yea! yea! 'Tis he! 'tis he!" The day was come that James had so solemnly warned both Charles and Buckingham of—when they should have their bellyful of impeachments; having, as Coke now reminded them, themselves set the ball rolling. Aldred, in the letter just quoted, says:—"As when one good hound recovers the scent, the rest come in with full cry, so one pursued it, and every one came home and laid the blame where he thought the fault was, on the duke of Buckingham, to wit." The duke was speedily accused of treachery and incapacity, both as high admiral and commander-in-chief. All the disgraceful failures, at Cadiz, at Rochelle, on the isle of Rhé, and even in Germany, were charged upon his evil counsels or worse management.

Selden proposed a declaration to his majesty under four heads, expressive of the dutiful devotion of the house, of the violation of the nation's liberties, of the intentions of the house, and of the interference of the duke to prevent inquiry. He declared that all this time they had been casting a mantle over the accusation made against Buckingham, and that it was time to revert to that. "At this moment," says Aldred, "as we were putting the question, the speaker, having been not half an hour, but three hours absent, and with the king, returned, bringing this message—that the house should then rise—being about eleven o'clock—adjourn till the morrow morning, and no committees to sit, or other business to go on in the interim."

The next day the house met, when Finch apologised for his absence, and his going to the king, declaring that he had communicated nothing but what was to the honour of the house; and wishing that his tongue might cleave to the roof of his mouth before he spoke a word to the disparagement of any member. He informed them that his majesty had no desire to fetter their deliberations, so that they did not interfere with his ministers, and added words of courtesy from the king. The commons observed that they had no intention of charging anything on the king, but must insist on inquiring when necessary into the conduct of his ministers; and the words of Mr. Kirton being found fault with, which intimated a hope that all those found guilty, might have their throats cut, the house resolved that "he had said nothing beyond the bounds of duty and allegiance, and that they all concurred with him therein."

On the following day they went into committee, and commenced their labours of inquiry into the proceedings of the executive. They examined Burlemachi, a foreign speculator, as to a commission which he was alleged to have, for engaging and bringing into this kingdom troops of German horse. He confessed to such warrant, and to having received thirty thousand pounds for this purpose; one thousand of these horse being, as he admitted, already raised and armed, and waiting their passage in Holland. "And the intention of bringing over these mercenaries," said one of the members, "is to cut our throats, or to keep us in obedience!" Another member declared that twelve of the commanders were already arrived, and had been seen in St. Paul's. The house next fell upon a new scheme of excise, which it was proposed to levy without consent of parliament, and voted that any member who had any information regarding this new imposition and did not disclose it, was an enemy to the state, and no true Englishman.

The danger which was obviously approaching Buckingham in the proceedings of this committee, alarmed the king; and the same day, the 7th of June, he commanded the commons to meet him in the house of lords, and then observing that he thought he had given a full and specific answer to their petition of right, but as they were not satisfied, he desired them to read the petition again, and he would give them an answer which should satisfy them. Taking his seat on the throne, this was done, and he then ordered the former answer to be cut off, and the following, in the established form, to be inscribed—"Let right be done as is desired." "Now," he added, "I have performed my part; wherefore, if this parliament have not a happy issue, the sin is yours. I am free of it."

Thus was passed the Petition of Right, the most important document since the acquirement of Magna Charta. The rejoicing for this conquest, this assurance of quieter days and secure firesides, sped through the city, and thence over the kingdom, and was everywhere demonstrated by acclamations, ringing of bells, and bonfires. On the 10th of June, three days afterwards, the king, as if pleased with this public expression of satisfaction, sent Sir Humphrey May to inform the house of commons that he was graciously pleased that their Petition of Right, with his answer, should be recorded not only on the journals of parliament, but in those of the courts of Westminster, and should, moreover, be printed for his honour and the content of the people. On the 12th the commons showed their content by voting the king the five subsidies, and hastening to pass the bill for five other subsidies granted by the clergy.

But the exultation over this great triumph did not prevent the commons from pursuing their labours of inquiry into abuses. They obtained a judgment from the lords against Dr. Mainwaring for his encouragement of kingly absolutism in his sermons, and censured Laud and Neale, of Winchester, for licensing similar sermons; they then came to Buckingham himself, and voted a strong remonstrance against his undue influence and unconstitutional doings, which was presented by the speaker to the king. The house felt itself highly aggrieved by a speech which the favourite was reported to have made at his own table—"Tush! it makes no matter what the commons or parliament doth; for without my leave and authority, they shall not be able to touch the hair of a dog." Buckingham protested that he had never ​uttered such words, and called upon the house of lords to demand that the members of the commons who had thus reported it, should be called in to prove it; but the duke was forced to content himself with entering his protest on the journals of the lords.

The commons not having voted the tonnage and poundage, calculated that the king would not hastily dissolve the house, and therefore prayed him to remove Buckingham from his counsels, as the author of so many calamities; and they took the opportunity to remind him that tonnage and poundage could not be collected without their consent, as the king's concession of the Petition of Right testified. This called forth Charles again as hotly as ever. Though he had admitted, in granting this petition, that no kind of duty could be imposed without consent of parliament, he now sought to except the tonnage and poundage from this condition. He therefore, on the 26th of June, suddenly went to the house of lords, and summoned the attendance of the commons. The action had been so impromptu, that the lords had no notice of it, and neither he nor they had had time to robe themselves, when the commons at nine o'clock in the morning made their appearance. All unrobed as he was, Charles seated himself on the throne, and lectured the commons on their already beginning to put false constructions on his passing the Petition of Right. "As for the tonnage and poundage, it is a thing I cannot want, ​

​and was never intended by you to ask, nor meant by me, I am sure, to grant." And he called on them, but more especially the lords, who were the judges, to take notice of what he declared his meaning to be when he granted the petition.

The mischief had been done by former parliaments granting this impost, which we now call customs duties, for life; and though parliament had never altogether surrendered the power of voting it, nor had voted it for life to Charles, he had come to consider it as merged into a matter of prerogative, and not to be affected by his general concession just made. The commons, however, meant nothing less than that, as well as every other grant of taxes on the subject, to be void without their assent. Here, therefore, as so often afterwards, they found themselves just where they were with the king as matter of dispute, though they had settled the question as matter of right. No man was ever so hard as Charles I. to be made to see what he did not like. He therefore gave his assent to the subsidies, and prorogued the parliament till October; and, as if to mark how far he was from intending to submit to what he had thus so solemnly in the face of the whole nation bound himself to, he proceeded to reward the men who had so shamefully advocated absolute power in him. He made bishops of both Montague and Mainwaring, and promoted Sibthorpe to good fat livings.

Whilst these great national struggles had been going on, queen Henrietta had given birth on the 13th of May to a son which only survived a few hours; and she had been counterfeited by a mad girl at Limoges, who gave out that she was the unhappy queen of England, who had escaped from her tyrant husband and his savage heretical subjects, much to the exasperation of the good people of France. Louis, however, who knew that his sister was now living in great comfort and harmony with her husband, compelled the impostor to confess her falsehood, and made her do penance by walking in public procession with a lighted taper in her hand, and then shut her up in prison. Charles had also found time to settle Maryland, naming it after his queen, who was, as we have observed, called at court queen Mary. He had collected from the streets fifteen hundred orphans and homeless children, and shipped them thither, showing what works of real advantage to his kingdom were open to this monarch, if he had not been cursed with the fatal ambition of making himself absolute.

The king's attention was soon drawn from the battle with the commons to the-demands of the unfortunate people of Rochelle upon him. He had solemnly pledged his honour to assist them, and they now sorely needed it. Since Buckingham left them to their fate, Rochelle had been invested by the French army under the king and Richelieu, and the besieged loudly called on the king of England to succour them according to his promise. The earl of Denbigh was despatched thither with a numerous fleet, yet had done nothing; but having shown himself before the town for seven days, returned, to the great mortification of the Rochellais. Denbigh had been raised to his rank and title simply for marrying a sister of Buckingham's, and the people murdered loudly at the fleet being put into such incompetent hands. The hatred of the duke rose higher and higher and on the same day that he was pronounced by the commons the cause of all these national calamities, his physician. Dr. Lambe, was murdered by a mob in London, and a placard was affixed on the walls in these words:—"Who rules the kingdom?—The king, Who rules the king?—The duke. Who rules the duke?—The devil. Let the duke look to it, or he will be served as his doctor was served." A doggrel rhyme was in the mouths of the common people:—

Let Charles and George do what they can,
The duke shall die like Dr. Lambe.

The king was extremely concerned when the placard was shown him, and added double guard at night, but the duke treated the whole with contempt, and prepared to proceed himself with the fleet to relieve Rochelle. Charles went with him to Deptford to see the ships, and is reported to have said to Buckingham on beholding them, "George, there are those who wish that both these and thou may perish; but we will both perish together, if thou dost." Buckingham proceeded to Portsmouth, where he was to embark. Clarendon relates that the ghost of, Buckingham's father had appeared to an officer of the king's wardrobe three times, urging him to go to his son and warn him to do something to abate the hatred of the people, or that he would not be allowed to live long. Since the demonstrations in London, it needed no ghost to show his danger. But he was never gayer than on the eve of the verification of the omens and the menaces.

The duke, on the 23rd of August, rose in high spirits, even dancing in his gaiety, and went to breakfast with a great number of his officers. Whilst he was at breakfast, M. Soubise, the envoy of the people of Rochelle, went to him, and was seen in earnest private conversation. It is supposed that Soubise had come to the knowledge of certain recent negotiations betwixt England and France, in which, though both monarchs showed every tendency to listen to an accommodation, neither had yet ventured to propose it; but that it was the object of Buckingham rather to treat than to fight when he got to Rochelle. At that very moment Mr. Secretary Carleton had arrived from the king with instructions to Buckingham to open by some means a communication with Richelieu, and thus, as it were, accidentally to bring about a treaty. Probably Soubise had acquired hints of those things, for both he and many other Frenchmen about Buckingham appeared greatly discontented, and vociferated and gesticulated energetically. The duke, it is said, had been endeavouring to persuade Soubise that Rochelle was already relieved, which he was too well informed to credit.

The duke now prepared to go out to his carriage, which was waiting at the door, and as he went through the hall, still followed by the French gentlemen, colonel Friar whispered something in his ear. He turned to listen, and at the same moment a knife was plunged into his heart, and there left sticking. Plucking it out with the word "Villain!" he fell, covered with blood. His servants, who caught him as he was falling, thought it was a stroke of apoplexy, but the blood both from the wound and his mouth, quickly undeceived them. Then an alarm was raised; some ran to close the gates, and others rushed forth to spread the news. The duchess of Buckingham and her sister, the countess of Anglesea, heard the noise in their chamber, and ran into the ​gallery of the lobby, where they saw the duke lying in his gore. He was only in his six-and-thirtieth year.

The first suspicion fell upon the French, and they were in great danger from the duke's people; but when a number of officers came rushing in, crying out, "Where is the villain? Where is the butcher?" a man stepped calmly forward, saying, "I am the man—here I am!" He had quietly withdrawn into the kitchen as soon as he had done the deed, and might have escaped had he so willed. On hearing him avow the murder the officers drew their swords, and would have despatched him, but were prevented by the secretary Carleton Sir Thomas Morton, and others, who stood guard over him till a detachment of soldiers arrived and conveyed him to the governor's house.

The assassin turned out to be John Felton, a gentleman by birth and education, who had been a lieutenant in the army during the expedition to the isle of Rhé. He had thrown up his commission because he could not obtain the arrears of his pay, and had seen another at the same time promoted over his head. He had, therefore, most likely, a personal grudge against the duke, but had also been led on by religious fanaticism. He was a stout, dark, military-looking man, from Suffolk; but according to his own account, was first excited to the deed by reading the remonstrance of the parliament against the duke, when it seemed to him that that remonstrance was a sufficient warrant for the act, and that by ridding the country of him he should render a real service to it. He described himself as walking in London on Tower Hill, when he saw a broad hunting-knife on a cutler's stall, and that it was suggested to him instantly to buy it for this purpose.

At Portsmouth one of the royal chaplains was sent to him in his dungeon, where he lay heavily ironed; but Felton, supposing the chaplain sent to draw something from him rather than for his consolation, said, "Sir, I shall be brief with you; I killed him for the cause of God and my country!" The chaplain, to mislead him, told him what was not true, that the surgeons gave hopes of his life; but Felton promptly replied, "That is impossible! I had the power of forty men, assisted by Him who guided my hand." On being removed to London, the people crowded to see him, showering blessings on him as the deliverer of his country, and one old woman at Kingston said, "Now, God bless thee, little David!" meaning that he had killed Goliath.

The king was at church when the news reached the court, and Sir John Hippsley went up to him and informed him of what had taken place. Charles had sufficient power over himself to remain outwardly unmoved during the service; but as soon as it was over, he hastened to his own apartment, threw himself on the bed, and gave way to a passion of tears, lamenting the loss of so valuable a servant, and the dreadful nature of his end; and he continued in a depressed and sorrowful mood for some days. Yet outwardly he assumed so much equanimity, that it was thought by the public, and by many about him, that he was secretly glad to be rid of a man who had helped to render him so unpopular. They were greatly mistaken. Charles had a firm attachment to this profligate and mischievous man, and noted carefully the expressions which now escaped those who thought they might speak what they really thought of him, and remembered them to their prejudice. He further demonstrated his regard for his fallen favourite, by paying his debts and taking his widow and children under his especial protection. He termed the duke his martyr, and had him buried in Westminster Abbey, though he took the precaution to bury the corpse privately, and have an empty coffin carried on men's shoulders, and attended by about a hundred mourners by night, and the way guarded by soldiers, lest the populace might attempt to seize and insult the body.

Felton was lodged in the Tower, and threatened with the rack to make him confess his accomplices, but he steadfastly replied that he had no accomplices or abettors but the remonstrance of the commons. The earl of Dorset went to see him, accompanied, as reported, by Laud, and menaced him with the rack if he would not reveal his colleagues. Felton replied, "I am ready, but I must tell you that I will then accuse you my lord of Dorset, and no one but you." Charles urged his being racked, but the judges, who saw better than he did the spirit that was abroad, refused to sanction it, declaring that torture, however used, had always been contrary to the law of England. Felton gloried in his deed, but at length, through the exertions of the clergy, came to confess that he had been misled by a bad spirit; yet it has been doubted whether he ever really abandoned inwardly the persuasion of having done a great and patriotic deed. When the attorney-general on the trial lauded the virtues, the abilities, wisdom, and public services of Buckingham to the skies, Felton, on being asked what he had to say, why judgment should not be passed on him, replied that if he had deprived his majesty of so faithful a servant as Mr. Attorney-general described, he was sorry, and extending his arm, exclaimed, "This is the instrument that did the deed, let it be cut off for it!" He was hanged at Tyburn, and then gibbeted at Portsmouth, the scene of his crime; a crime, we may add, perfectly superfluous, for Felton's knife only forestalled the axe of the executioner. The commons had already taken up the offensive against Buckingham: he was condemned both in its and in public opinion, as an evil counsellor of the king, and an arch-traitor to the country, and the power of Charles could no more have protected him from the fiat of parliament, than it did Strafford afterwards.

In place of the duke, the earl of Lindsay was ordered to take command of the expedition for the relief of Rochelle, and he was accompanied by Walter Montague, the second son of the earl of Manchester, who was to open a negotiation with Richeleu. Montague was already a catholic at heart, and afterwards became so avowedly, and was made commendatory abbot of Pontoise, and a member of the council of Anne of Austria. No doubt it was from this known tendency that he had been chosen for this mission. For five days the fleet manœuvred before Rochelle, and after two ineffectual, and probably rather pretended than actual, endeavours to force an entrance, returned to Spithead. Montague, meantime, had been introduced to Louis, had hurried back to London, and was on the point of returning, when the news came of the surrender of Rochelle. This event put an end to the dreams of a protestant state in France, and greatly consolidated the power of that country. ​To the Rochellais it was a terrible lesson against putting faith in English kings. When they were seduced to surrender their peace and prosperity to the promises of protection and religious liberty by Charles, the town contained fifteen thousand souls; when they opened their gates to their own sovereign, they were reduced to four, and these the most ghastly shadows of men from famine. All this destruction and misery was the work of Charles and Buckingham.

This event had greatly grieved the protestants in England, and it was whilst the public was brooding over these matters, and over fresh acts of arbitrary oppression in the star-chamber and Court of High Commission, as well as by the continued levy of tonnage and poundage and other duties, that Charles called together parliament. It had been prorogued to the 20th of October, but met on the 20th of January, 1629. The king sent the commons a message, desiring them to proceed to vote the tonnage and poundage without delay, this having been neglected by the parliament in the last session; but the house insisted on going first into the grievances. These were two-fold—such as related to the constitution, and such as affected the faith of the nation. Charles had not only persisted in the enforcement of revenue without parliament, and had dared to tamper even with the Petition of Rights after he had granted it, but had issued a new edition of the articles of the church, into which he had introduced a clause to suit the intentions of himself and his great ecclesiastical adviser, Laud, now made bishop of London. The Commons agreed to take the religious question first, declaring that the business of the kings of this earth should give place to the business of the King of heaven.

Popery and Arminianism were the things which the puritans held in almost equal horror. In reference to popery they inquired what was the reason that the laws regarding it were relaxed? and that out of ten individuals who had been arraigned for receiving ordination in the church of Rome, only one had been condemned, and the execution of that one respited? Two committees wore appointed to inquire from the judges on what grounds they had refused to receive evidence tendered against the recusants at their trial, and of the attorney-general by what authority he had discharged the persons in question, on their giving bail for their re-appearance. Every member was bound to give all the information to the house in his power regarding the relaxation of the penal laws, and all attempts or warrants to stay proceedings against the papists.

But the growth and favour of Arminianism in high places was the most absorbing subject of animadversion. Laud, now bishop of London, was bent not only on introducing Arminianism to its fullest extent, but ceremonies and rites merging fast into Catholicism. Therefore the puritans declared the heresy of Arminianism to be the spawn of popery. Laud had notions of church government as absolute as Charles had of civil government. All the promotions by him were of Arminian clergymen. Montague was become bishop of Chichester, Mainwaring was a bishop, and all those who meant to get preferment saw plainly that they must profess Arminianism, and the love of gorgeous ceremonies and plenty of surplices.

The passage which Charles had introduced into the new authorised edition of the articles was, "The church hath power to decree rites and ceremonies, and hath authority in matters of faith." Mr. Pym called upon the house to take a covenant for the maintenance of their religious rights, which were in danger; and both he and others denounced the introduction of idolatrous ceremonies into the church by Charles and others. Sir John Elliot protested vehemently against the introduction of the new clause into the articles. He called on the house to enter not a mere resolution but a "vow" on its journals against it, which was done; namely, "that the commons of England claimed, professed, and avowed for truth, that sense of the articles of religion which were established in parliament in the thirteenth year of queen Elizabeth, which by the public acts of the church of England, and by the general and current exposition of the writers of that church, had been declared unto them, and that they rejected the sense of the Jesuits, Arminians, and all others wherein they differed from it."

The king sent the house a message, desiring them to leave matters of religion, and proceed to pass the vote for tonnage and poundage. This led to a sharp debate betwixt the court party and the opposition. The courtiers lauded the goodness of the king, and the enlargement of their liberties which he had granted; but Mr. Coriton replied bluntly, "When men speak here of neglect of duty towards his majesty, let them know we know no such thing, nor what they mean. I see not how we neglect the same. I see it is all our heart's desire to expedite the bill of tonnage and poundage in due time. Our business is still put back by their messages, and the business in hand is God's. And his majesty's things are certainly amiss, and every one sees it; but woe be unto us if we present not the same to his majesty!"

On the 2nd of February the house, instead of the vote of tonnage and poundage, presented to the king "an apology" for delaying that bill, and containing a complaint of his majesty's encroaching on the orders and privileges of their house by three messages in two days, urging them to change inconveniently the orders of their proceedings. Charles replied by a message through secretary Coke that he was as zealous for the faith as they were, but must again think it strange that the business of religion should be an obstruction to his business. He once more desired them to pass the vote for the tonnage and poundage, adding one of his mischievous and most impolitic threats, of quickening them by other means if they did not.

The house resenting this ill-advised message, went on discussing the affairs of the church. Mr. Kirton, who had in the last session talked of cutting the throats of all traitorous ministers, now declared Laud and Neile, bishop of Winchester, to be at the bottom of all the troubles that were now come upon them and their religion. On the 11th of February, in the committee on religion, Oliver Cromwell made his first appearance as a speaker in that house, a circumstance of great mark, seeing what the honourable member afterwards grew into. He said, "He had heard by relation from one Dr. Beard, that Dr. Alablaster had preached flat popery at Paul's Cross, and that the bishop of Winchester had commanded him, as his diocesan, that he should preach nothing to the contrary. Mainwaring, so justly censured in ​this house for his sermons, was by the same bishop's means preferred to a rich living. If these are the steps to church preferment, what are we to expect?" Whereupon the committee ordered Dr. Beard to be written to by Mr. Speaker, to come up and testify against the bishop; "the order for Dr. Beard to be delivered to Mr. Cromwell." After severe animadversions on Neale, who, Mr. Kirton said, had leaped through many bishoprics, but always left popery behind him, the house passed to the consideration of the Petition of Right.

Selden called the attention of the house to this subject, and showed that though Charles had promised that the Petition of Right should be printed, and that the kings printer had struck off fifteen hundred copies of that document, the king had sent for and destroyed them, and had then had printed and circulated another copy, from which the king's assent was removed, his first evasive answer restored, and his sophistical explanation at the close of the session, that it did not apply to tonnage and poundage, was introduced. This flagrant violation of his word, and of all the forms of parliament, struck the house with ominous doubts of ever binding the king by any law or by any principle. They summoned the king's printer to their bar, and demanded by what authority he had thus substituted a false for the true petition. He replied that the day after the session the attorney general had sent for him, and forbade him to publish the copy printed, as did also the earl of Worcester, lord privy seal; and that he was sent for again to court, furnished with the new copy, and ordered to print and publish it in that form.

The house was in the highest state of indignation and astonishment. Such a deliberate falsification of a document passed by the house and ratified by himself, branded the king as capable of any act of duplicity, and went to destroy all confidence in not merely his word, but his most solemn legislative act. The chief speakers of the commons expressed their horror and disgust at the deed in no measured terms. Selden exclaimed, "For this Petition of Right, we see how it has been invaded since our last meeting. Our liberties of life, person, and freehold have been invaded; men have been committed contrary to that petition. No man ought to lose life or limb but by the law, and hath not one lately lost his ears by order of the star-chamber? Next, they will take away our arms, and then our legs, and so our lives. Let all see we are sensible of this. Evil customs creep in upon us: let us make a just representation thereof to his majesty."

The case of a merchant and member of the house, Mr. Rolles, was then related. His goods had been seized by the officers of the customs for refusing to pay the rates demanded, though he told them that whatever was declared due by law, he would discharge. This case, amongst a multitude of others, threw the house into a great ferment. "They knew the party was a parliament man," said Sir Robert Philips; "nay, they said if all the parliament was with him, or concerned in the goods, they would seize them just the same."

The king, perceiving the storm he had raised, sent word by secretary Coke to stay further debate on that case till three o'clock the next day, when he would speak with both houses at Whitehall. Accordingly, meeting them there, Charles, after complimenting the lords at the expense of the commons, then said, addressing the members of the lower house, "The complaint of staying men's goods for tonnage and poundage, may have a short and easy conclusion. By passing the bill as my ancestors have had it, my past actions will be concluded, and my future proceedings authorised. I take not these duties as appertaining to my hereditary prerogative. It ever was, and still is, my mentioning, by the gift of my subjects to enjoy the same. In my speech of last session, I did not challenge them as right, but showed you the necessity by which I was to take them, till you had granted them, assuring myself that you wanted only time, and not goodwill. So make good your professions, and put an end to all questions arising from the subject."

These assertions were in direct contradiction to his declaration in that very speech which we have already quoted, that the tonnage and poundage was a thing that parliament had nothing to do with. But the concession gratified the commons; still they did not grant the customs duties, but employed themselves strenuously in calling to account those who had been concerned in furthering or executing the king's illegal orders. They summoned to their bar Acton, the sheriff of London, who had seized the goods of Rolles and other merchants, and sent him to the Tower. They summoned also the officers of the customs who made the seizure, who pleaded the king's warrant, and also his own express command; and the king declared, through secretary Coke, that he would defend them. This caused loud out-cries in the house, but did not check their proceedings, for they sent messages to the chancellor and barons of the exchequer, who excused themselves by saying all those aggrieved had their remedy at law. Thus they did not attempt to justify their proceedings.

On the 25th of February, two days later than these determined inquisitions, showing that the commons were assuming high and most ominous ground, the committee of religion presented to the house a report, entitled "Heads of articles agreed upon, and to be insisted on by the house." In these they complained that the bishops licensed books in favour of popery, and suppressed books opposed to popery; that such books as those of Mainwaring and Montague should be burnt, and some better order taken for the licensing of books. They demanded that candlesticks should be removed from the communion-tables, now impiously styled high altars; that pictures, lights, images, should be taken away, and crossing and praying towards the east forbidden. That more learned, pious, and orthodox men should be put into livings, and better provision made for a good minister in every parish.

Again Charles sent them an order to adjourn to the 2nd of March, which they did, but only to assemble on that day in the same resolute and unbending spirit. Sir John. Elliot immediately denounced Neale, of Winchester, as a rank abettor of Arminianism, and thence passed on to the lord treasurer Weston, who he declared was his grand supporter in it. This Sir Richard Weston had been seeking his fortune at court many years, and had nearly spent a private fortune of his own before he obtained any ​promotion. At last he got employed as ambassador to archduke Albert in Flanders, and afterwards to the court of Germany, in which he discharged his trust so well, that on his return he was made chancellor of the exchequer, and a few months before the death of Buckingham, Charles had removed the earl of Marlborough from the office of lord treasurer, and given it to him. Weston was highly elated, and devoted himself with all his ardour to succeed to the place of favourite which Buckingham had held. But though Charles showed him much favour, and eventually made him earl of Portland, he allowed Weston to succeed to the arbitrary offices and public odium of the duke, but not to the ascendancy which Buckingham possessed over him.

Sir John Elliot now pointed out his criminal subservience to the worst designs of the king. "In his person," he said, "all evil is concentrated, both for the innovation of religion, and the invasion of our liberties. He is now the great enemy of the commonwealth. I have traced him in all his actions, and I find him building on those grounds laid by his master, the great duke. He secretly is moving for this interruption; and from this fear they go about to break parliament, lest parliament should break them."

This was tender ground, and Sir John Finch, the speaker, who was a regular courtier, immediately said he had a command from his majesty to adjourn the house till Tuesday come seven-night following. Several members declared the message to be vexatious and out of order; that adjournment was a function of their own, but since the speaker had delivered the message and that was sufficient, they would settle few matters, and do as his majesty desired. Sir John Elliot produced a remonstrance addressed to the king against levying tonnage and poundage, and desired the speaker to read it, but he refused, saying the house was adjourned by the king. Elliot then desired the clerk of the house to read it, but he also refused, and so Sir John read it himself; but the speaker refused to put it to the vote. Selden then told the speaker that if he would not put the question to the vote, they would all continue sitting still. The speaker, however, declared that he had his majesty's command immediately to rise, when he had delivered the message; whereupon he was rising, but Hollis, the son of the earl of Clare, and Valentine, who had placed themselves on each side of him for the purpose, held him down in his chair. He made a great outcry and resistance: several of the courtiers rushed to his assistance, but Hollis swore that he should sit as long as they pleased. The doors were locked, and there was a great scuffle and blows, but the opposition members compelled the speaker to continue sitting, notwithstanding his struggles, tears, and entreaties.

Selden delivered an address to the imprisoned speaker, on his duties and his obedience owed to the house, which sate under the great seal, and had power of adjournment as the king had that of prorogation. Sir Peter Hayman told him that he blushed at being his kinsman, that he was a blot on his family, and would be held in scorn and contempt by posterity; and concluded by recommending that if he would not do his duty, he should be brought to the bar of the house, dismissed, and another chosen at once in his place. Mr. Hollis proceeded to read the following set of resolutions, which were loudly cheered, and assented to by the house, namely:—1. That whoever shall seek to bring in popery, Arminianism, or other opinions, disagreeing from the true and orthodox church, shall be reputed a capital enemy to this kingdom and commonwealth. 2. Whoever shall advise the taking of tonnage and poundage, not being granted by parliament, or shall be an actor or instrument therein, shall be reputed a capital enemy to this kingdom and parliament. 3. Whatever merchant or other person shall pay tonnage and poundage, not being granted by parliament, shall be reputed a betrayer of the liberties of England, and an enemy to the same.

Whilst these extraordinary scenes were acting, the king had come down to the house of lords, but not finding the speaker there, as he expected, sent a messenger to bring away the sergeant with his mace, without which there could be no house. The doors were locked, and the messenger could get ​no admittance. Charles then sent the usher of the black rod to summon the commons to his presence, but he could no more obtain an entrance than the messenger. On hearing this, in a transport of rage, the king ordered the captain of the guard to break open the door; but this catastrophe was prevented by the house just then adjourning to the 10th of March, according to the king's message.

On the 10th of March the king went to the house of lords, and without summoning the commons proceeded to dissolve parliament. He then addressed the lords complaining grievously of the conduct of the commons, which compelled him at that time to dissolve parliament. He expressed much comfort in the lords, and conceded that there were in the commons many who were as dutiful and loyal subjects as any in the world, but that they had some vipers amongst them, that created all this ​trouble. He intimated that these evil disposed persons would meet with their rewards, and bade the lord keeper do as he had commanded. Then the lord keeper said, "My lords, and gentlemen of the commons, the king's majesty doth dissolve this parliament;" though the commons, with the exception of a few individuals, were not there, nor represented by their speaker.

This question of the right of the commons to determine their own adjournment, and to deny to the king the right of preventing the speaker putting any question from the chair, was a most vital one, and hitherto undetermined. If the king could at any moment adjourn the commons as well as prorogue parliament altogether, and could decide what topics should be entertained by the house, there was an end of the existence of the commons as an independent branch of the legislature: it sunk at once into the mere creature of the crown. There was a great battle for this as for other popular rights, and the determined conduct of the members showed that it was coming fast to a crisis. But at this moment Charles was as determined to conquer the parliament, as parliament was not to be conquered.

No sooner did this unprecedented scene with the speaker take place, than he adopted measures to punish those most prominently concerned in it. The compulsory detention of the speaker took place on the 2nd of March; on the 5th he issued warrants to arrest the "vipers"—Elliot, Selden, Hollis, Valentine, Hobart, Hayman, Coriton, Long, and Stroud, and commit them to the Tower or other prisons. Stroud and Long were not immediately caught, but on the issue of a proclamation for their apprehension they surrendered. The houses of Elliot, Hollis, Selden, Long, and Valentine, were forcibly entered, their desks broken open, and their papers seized.

Charles issued a proclamation dated 22nd of March, explaining the reasons for his now dissolving parliament, and plainly intimating that he meant to do without parliaments unless he could make them submit passively to his will. "We have showed," it said, "by our frequently meeting our people, our love to the use of parliaments; yet, the late abuse having for the present driven us unwillingly out of that course, we shall account it presumption for any to prescribe any time unto us for parliaments, the calling, continuing, and dissolving of which is always in our power; and shall be more inclinable to meet in parliament again, when our people shall see more clearly into our interests and actions, and when such as have bred this interruption shall have received their condign punishment."

From the last expression it was expected that the irate monarch would endeavour to bring these offenders to the block; but he found the judges more sensible of the real power of parliament and public opinion than himself. He put a series of questions to the judges, whose answers did not prove very satisfactory, and judge Whitelock even ventured to attribute the mischief to Laud, and said that if he went on in that way he would kindle a flame in the nation. The judge proved quite prophetically right. The prisoners sued for their habeas corpus, and were brought by its means into the Court of King's Bench, where the court counsel stated that they were imprisoned for notable contempt, and for stirring up sedition. Their own counsel argued that they had acted expressly on the king's confirmation of the Petition of Right, and had been perfectly within the law in their proceedings. But the attorney-general Heath openly avowed that the king had bound himself to nothing that was not law before, and that a petition was no law; that the matter stood just as it had done before the Petition of Right. Whilst he thus made a most deplorable case of it for the king, describing the granting of the petition as a mere excusable shuttle to get rid of a difficulty, and thus sinking Charles deeper than ever in the public opinion, as unprincipled and unworthy of all credit, at the same time, by admitting that what the Petition of Right defined as right, was already the old established right of the kingdom, he convicted the king of having violated that right wilfully and repeatedly, and by consequence fully justified the prisoners.

Heath, who was a thoroughly bred tool of despotism, declared that prisoners committed by the king or privy council were not bailable; but the judges wrote to the king to apprise him that they were bound by their oaths to bail the prisoners. On this the lord keeper informed them that his majesty desired to see them at Greenwich. There he gave them a sharp lecture, and forbade them to grant bail till they had consulted the rest of the judges. These other judges, obviously prepared to serve the crown, delayed their opinion till the end of term, and when the writs of habeas corpus were served on the keepers of the prisons where the prisoners had been first confined, to whom they were addressed, they were found to be removed to other gaols, so that the writs became void. This was one of the ingenious tricks of tyranny which Charles had hit upon, and extensively practised to defeat justice; "prisoners," says Whitelock, "being removed from pursuivant to pursuivant, and thus could have no benefit of law."

Charles, sensible of the odium of this proceeding, informed the judges of the King's Bench that he had done this, "not, as some people might say, to decline the course of justice, but because the prisoners had carried themselves insolently and unmannerly to himself and their lordships." Thus the prisoners were compelled to lie during the long vacation, without books, without papers, or admission of their friends. On the first day of Michaelmas term, they were brought into court, and ordered to find bail, and also to give security for their good behaviour. They were all ready to give bail, but all positively refused to give security for good behaviour, as that implied the commission of some crime, which they denied. They were then put upon their trial, but excepted to the jurisdiction of the court, being amenable only to their own high court of parliament for what was done therein. But they were told that their conduct had not been parliamentary, and that the common law could deal with all offences there by word or deed, as well as anywhere else. This was another attack on the privileges of parliament, which, if allowed, would have finished its independence; and these were not the men to surrender a jot of the out-works and defences of parliament. They were then sentenced as follows:— Sir John Elliot to be imprisoned in the Tower, the other prisoners in other prisons at the king's pleasure. None of them to be delivered out of prison till they have given security for their good behaviour, ​acknowledged their offence, and paid the following fines:—Sir John Elliot, as the ringleader and chief offender, two thousand pounds; Hollis, one thousand marks; Valentine, five hundred pounds.

Long was not included in this trial, but was prosecuted in the star-chamber, on the plea that he had no business in parliament, being pricked for sheriff of his county, and by his oath was bound to have been there. He was fined one thousand marks. This, however, deceived nobody: every one knew that the offence for which he suffered was for his conduct in parliament. The prisoners lay in gaol for eighteen months. Sir John Elliot never came out again. His noble conduct had made deadly enemies of the king and his courtiers, and even when he was dying, in 1632, after three years' confinement, they rejoiced in his melancholy fate, and refused all petitions for his release.

Charles called no more parliaments till 1640, but went on for eleven years fighting his way through the most maniacal attempts on the constitution and temper of the nation, towards the block. A case of particular oppression on the part of the king, and of bravery on the part of the sufferer, at this time excited great indignation. Richard Chambers, a merchant, was summoned before the privy council for refusing to pay duties on a bale of silks, imposed without sanction of parliament. Charles selected this case as an example of his intention to trample on the Petition of Right so lately granted. Chambers, a brave and independent man, boldly told the council that "merchants were more encouraged, and less screwed and wrung in Turkey than in England." This was considered so contumacious, that he was prosecuted in the star-chamber; and that infamous and illegal instrument of the despotism of so many kings and queens, Tudors and Stuarts, declaring that it was the intention of Chambers to represent this happy government worse than a Turkish tyranny, fined him two thousand pounds, and ordered him to sign an acknowledgement that his words were seditious, false, and malignant. The honest merchant signed what they had written for him, but added of himself, "All the above contents and submission, I, Richard Chambers, do utterly abhor and detest, as most unjust and false, and never till death will acknowledge any part thereof." He did not stop there, but added various texts of Scripture to express his sense of the violent government of the time; such as, "Wo unto them that devise iniquity, because it is in the power of their hand!"

The case was forthwith removed to the exchequer, where he took his stand on Magna Charta and other statutes; but the judges would not suffer the plea to be filed; and when he demanded trial by exercise of his habeas corpus, they remanded him without hearing, and the indomitable man lay in prison twelve years. The long parliament, to which he sought long and anxiously for redress, deferred his case so shamefully, that he died unrequited and in destitution.

The treatment of Chambers and the parliamentary prisoners was a fair demonstration of the kind of government which now was to prevail. Laud was in the ascendant, and Wentworth, late a patriot, now bought over, was a slave and a generator of slaves. Laud was as great a stickler for the power of the church as Charles was of the state; their humours jumped amazingly, and this unexampled trio, Charles, Laud, and Wentworth, worked shoulder to shoulder in church and state, to reduce all to slavery. They invented a cant term betwixt them, to express what they aimed at, and the means by which they pursued it. It was "thorough," or, as the Americans have of late styled it in their slang, "going the whole hog."

Laud had introduced a passage into the ceremonial even of the coronation, which astonished the hearers, and showed even then that he aimed at an ecclesiastical despotism "Stand and hold fast from henceforth the place to which you have been heir by the succession of your forefathers, being now delivered to you by the authority of God Almighty, and by the hands of us all, and all the bishops and servants of God. And as you see the clergy to come nearer the altar than others, so remember them, in all places convenient, you give them greater honour," &c. This haughty prelate now promulgated such absolute doctrines of divine right of king and priest, and began to run in ceremonies and church splendour so fast toward actual popery, that the daughter of the earl of Devonshire being asked by him why she had turned catholic, replied, "Because I hate to travel in a crowd. I perceive your grace and many others are making haste to Rome, and therefore, in order to prevent being crowded, I have gone before you."

Under this undaunted leader, the pulpits now resounded with the most flaming advocacy of divine right. A pamphlet was discovered by the reformers, which had been written for king James, and was now printed, urging the king to do as Louis XI. of France had done—dispense with parliaments altogether, and secure his predominance by a standing army. The queen's advice was precisely of this character: often crying up the infinite superiority of the kings of her own country and family, whom she styled real kings, whilst the English were only sham ones. But whilst Charles was greatly soothed by these doctrines, and strengthened in his resolve to trouble himself no more with parliaments, he was careful to strengthen his government by seducing as many of the ablest men of the opposition as he could. The first with whom he succeeded were Wentworth and Sir John Saville. They were both from Yorkshire, and both men of considerable property. Saville had been induced, by Cottington, the lord chancellor, to desert his patriotic friends and professions at the close of the second parliament, for a place in the privy council, and the office of comptroller of the household.

Sir Thomas Wentworth was a much more considerable man. He claimed to be descended from the royal line of the Plantagenets, and had no superior in ability in the house. The position which he had assumed in the parliamentary resistance to the royal encroachments, had been uncompromising and most effective. So much were his eloquence and influence dreaded, that he had been, amongst others, appointed sheriff, to keep him out of the house. For his continual opposition he was deprived of the office of Custos Rotulorum, and thrown into prison. Yet, when tempted by the offer of rank and power, he fell suddenly, utterly, and hopelessly, and became one of the most unflinching advocates and actors of absolutism that ever lived. On the 21st of July, 1628, Saville was created a baron, and on the morrow Wentworth was raised to the same dignity, as ​baron Wentworth; and before the end of the year he was made a viscount, and lord president of the council of the north. From the moment that Wentworth put his hand to the plough of despotism, he never looked back. Without a visible sense or sentiment of his odious apostacy, he became as prominent and as resolute in the destruction of liberty and the prosecution of his former colleagues, as he had been for its advancement and for their friendship.

The contagion of this apostacy spread. Sir Dudley Digges had taken a conspicuous part in the contests which we have detailed, and had distinguished himself by his abilities in debate, sufficient to render him worth purchasing. His colleagues had long felt, notwithstanding his zeal, that he would not be proof to temptation. It was tried in the shape of master of the rolls, and he at once accepted it. Noye and Littleton, both lawyers, were as ready to advocate despotism as liberty, and the offer of the attorney-generalship to Noye, and the solicitor-generalship to Littleton, convinced them instantly that the court was right, and their old cause and companions wrong. They testified their capacity for seeing both sides of an argument, by persecuting their old opinions and associates with the zeal of proselytes.

The rest of Charles's ministers were the lord keeper Coventry, who, though he appeared on several occasions as the instrument of Charles's arbitrary measures, was thought not to approve very much of them, and who, therefore, kept himself as much as possible from mixing in political matters. The earls of Holland and Carlisle were of the council, whose history we have already traced, the pusillanimous earl of Montgomery, his brother, the earl of Pembroke, and the earl of Dorset. These noblemen were rather men of pleasure than of business, and attended the council without caring for office. The earl of Arundel was earl marshal, a proud and empty man, whom Clarendon describes as living much abroad, because the manners of foreign nations suited him better than his own, and who "resorted sometimes to court, because there only was a greater man than himself, and went thither the seldomer because there was a greater man than himself." He was careless of pleasing favourites, and was therefore almost always in disgrace. Lord Weston, already mentioned, was lord treasurer, and the earl of Manchester privy seal. Weston was an able lawyer, who succeeded Coke as lord chief justice, and then purchased the office of lord treasurer for twenty thousand pounds, only to have it wrested from him again by Buckingham, in about twelve months; but he was courtier enough to suppress his resentment, and had now again ascended to his present office, in which he was a very pliant servant of the king. Besides these, Sir John Coke or Cooke, and Sir Dudley Carleton, were secretaries of state. Carleton had spent too much time in foreign embassies to understand well the state of parties at home, but he understood the will of the king, and took good care to obey and promote it. Coke was "of narrow education, and narrower nature," says Clarendon, who adds that "his cardinal perfection was industry, his most eminent infirmity covetousness." He knew as little of foreign relations as Carleton did of domestic ones; but their office was one of far less rank and importance than such office is now, their real business being to enter the minutes and write the despatches of the council, not to participate in its discussions. Such were the instruments by which Charles trusted to render parliaments superfluous. By their aid, but far more so by that of Laud and Wentworth, he soon raised the nation to a state of exasperation, which was only appeased by the blood of all three.

During the violent transactions with his parliament at home, Charles had made peace with France. In fact, neither France nor Spain had shown a disposition to prosecute the disputes which the king of England had entered into with them. Louis sent home the prisoners he had taken in the Rochelle expedition, under the name of a present to his sister, and Philip did the same with regard to those captured at Cadiz. Buckingham had been at the bottom of both these wars, and now that he was gone, all differences were soon arranged. Louis of France made a demand for the restoration of a man-of-war, the St. Esprit, which had been illegally captured by Sir Sackville Trevor; but he gave up the claim, and Charles was not very importunate in his demands of protection to the French protestants. Richelieu, however, treated them far better than Charles treated the puritans in England. He took measures to prevent the possibility of another coalition, by destroying the castles of the nobles and the fortifications of the towns, prohibited the convention of deputies from the churches, and abolished the military organisation of the Huguenots in the south of France; but he left them the exercise of their worship, and attached no disability to a profession of it. This peace was concluded in the spring of 1629, and in the following year that with Spain was also accomplished. The queen Henrietta was violently opposed to this peace, because France was still at war with Spain and the kindred house of Austria. When she found that she could not prevail on Charles, she is said to have shed tears of vexation.

It is curious that the first overtures to this peace were made through two Flemish painters; the celebrated Sir Peter Paul Reubens, and Gerbier, a native of Antwerp, who had been master of the horse to Buckingham. Cottington was despatched to Spain, spite of the strenuous endeavours of the queen and the French ambassador; and in November 1630, Coloma arrived as ambassador from Madrid. Philip accepted the same terms as were proposed in 1604, pledging himself to restore such parts of the palsgrave's territory as were occupied by the troops of Spain—no very important extent,—and never to cease his endeavours to procure from the emperor the restitution of the whole. In consideration of this Charles once more agreed to that mysterious treaty against Holland, which had been in negotiation during the visit of Charles and Buckingham to Spain. This was no other than to assist Philip to regain possession of the seven United States of the Netherlands, which had cost Elizabeth so much to aid in the establishment of their independence, and which had always been, as protestant states, so much regarded by the English public, with which a great trade was, moreover, carried on. The knowledge of such a piece of treachery on the part of Charles, would have excited a terrible commotion amongst the people. For his share of the booty he was to receive a certain portion of the provinces, including the island of Zealand. Lucidly for the king, his treason to protestantism remained a profound secret, and at length himself perceiving the difficulties and ​dilemmas in which it would involve him, after Olivarez and Cottington had signed the treaty he withheld his ratification. By this prudent act, however, he forfeited all right to demand from Philip aid in regaining the patrimony of the prince palatine.

Whether prudence, a rare virtue in Charles, or other more congenial motives, determined him in withdrawing from the compact with Spain regarding Holland is doubtful, for in the very next year he was found busily engaged with the catholic states of Flanders and Brabant, in a project to drive thence his new ally Philip of Spain. France and Holland were equally eager to assist in this design; but the people of Flanders were suspicious of their motives, dreading to find in such powerful allies only fresh masters. They therefore applied to the king of England, and a great correspondence took place through the medium of Gerbier and secretary Coke; in which Coke was at great pains to show how much more to the advantage of the people of Flanders and Brabant would be the alliance of England, than that of the ambitious, encroaching French, or the stern Calvinistic "boors" of Holland. In religion Coke was zealous to show them that the catholic and Anglican churches were almost identically the same; but all this fine flourish of persuasion ended not in offering substantial support in the struggle which must come, but in promising to protect them against anybody but the king of Spain, with whom he was recently united in peace; and that therefore "it would be against honour and conscience to debauch his subjects from their allegiance." If all this was not just that precise fact of debauching them, it would be difficult to imagine what could be; and moreover it was just the king of Spain against whom they required protection. Coke advised them from his master to declare their independence, and then the king of England, he told them, could help them as an independent state; and Philip would not then have cause of offence from Charles, but ought rather to be obliged to him for endeavouring to prevent the states falling into the hands of France, or some other of his powerful enemies. This precious state casuistry, however, was not by any means encouraging to revolt, and in the meantime Philip, learning what was going on, settled the question by sending into the provinces an overwhelming force of soldiers.

But the war which ought to have excited the deepest interest in Charles as a protestant prince, and as the brother-in-law of the protestant prince palatine, was the great war—since called the Thirty Years' War—which was raging in Germany. It was a war expressly of catholicism for the utter extirpation of protestantism. The resistance had begun in Bohemia: the protestants had invited Frederick of the Palatinate to become their king and defend them against the power of Austria and the exterminating catholic emperor. We have seen that Frederick had, without weighing the hazards of the enterprise sufficiently, accepted the crown, lost it immediately, together with his hereditary dominions, and that all the efforts of England, Denmark, of an allied host in Germany, had utterly failed to make head against Austria, Spain, and Bavaria. Germany was overrun with the victorious troops of Austria, led on by the ruthless and victorious generals Wallenstein, Piccolomini, Tilly, and Pappenheim. The most horrible desolation had followed the triumphant march of their armies all over Germany; the greater part of its cities were sacked or plundered; its fields laid waste; its cultivation stopped; its people destroyed or starving; and, with the exception of Saxony and Bavaria, the power of the princes was prostrated, and they were thoroughly divided amongst themselves, and therefore the more readily trodden upon by their oppressors.

But at this moment relief came out of an unexpected quarter. Christian IV., of Denmark, had attempted a diversion in favour of the German protestant princes, and had not only been repulsed, but had drawn the Austrian generals into his own kingdom with fire and sword. But in Sweden had risen up a king, able, pious, earnestly desirous of the restoration of protestantism, and qualified by a long military experience, though yet a young man, to cope with any general of the age. Gustavus Adolphus had mounted the Swedish throne at the age of eighteen, and was now only seven-and-thirty; yet he had already maintained a seventeen years' war against Poland, backed by the power of Austria. But now an armistice of six years was settled with Poland. Wallenstein, the ablest general of Austria, had been removed from the command, in consequence of the universal outcry of the German princes, in an imperial council at Ratisbon, against his cruelties and exactions; and the far-seeing Richelieu, who was attacking the Spaniards in Italy and the Netherlands, perceiving the immense advantage of such division in Germany, had others to make an alliance with the Swede.

On the 23rd of June, 1630, Gustavus embarked fifteen thousand of his veteran troops at Elfsnab, and crossed into Pomerania. The imperial troops were to a certain extent withdrawn from that province, and he speedily overran it, and possessed himself of its towns and fortifications. The Austrian field-marshal, Torquato Conti, retreated before him to Garz, on the Oder, where he put himself in a posture of defence; but he left the country a desert behind him on his march. The inhabitants had been stripped of everything, even their clothes; their harvests burnt; the villages lay in ashes; the blood of the murdered people dyed the fields and highways; the mills were destroyed, and the corn already threshed, thrown into the rivers. During whole days' march, Gustavus Adolphus saw not a single head of cattle, but wretched creatures crowding round them, imploring food to save them from death, and presenting the appearance rather of ghosts than men. Gustavus pushed on, carrying all before him: at Fraukfort-on-the-Oder be beat the Austrians, and called on the German protestant princes to join him, but in vain. At Landsberg he heard of the danger of Magdeburg, invested by Tilly and Pappenheim, and urged the elector of Brandenburg to assist him in hastening to its relief, but without success. Indignant at this timidity in their own cause, he threatened to march back to Stockholm, yet the danger of Magdeburg urged him forward, and he sent to the citizens a message, entreating them to hold out for three weeks, when he hoped to arrive and relieve them. The time which he had spent in Brandenburg, vainly endeavouring to raise the cowardly elector, proved fatal to one of the fairest and most affluent cities of Germany.

​Tilly, apprehensive of the approach of Gustavus, adopted a stratagem to surprise the city. On the 19th of May, 1631, he ceased firing in the afternoon, and drew away his cannon. The inhabitants felt certain that this was from Gustavus being at hand, which obliged him to turn and defend himself, or raise the siege. Having thus thrown them off their guard, he approached the walls at night with scaling-ladders. and towards morning, the sentinels hearing no enemy, and going off their posts, there was a sudden attack made, the walls scaled, and a wild cry of horror told that the enemy was in the city.

The horrors committed there have no parallel in history except the Sepoy outrages in India. The people were massacred and insulted without mercy; the city set on fire, and men, women, and children subjected to unheard-of horrors. Fifty-three women were found in one church with their heads cut off. Some of the officers themselves, petrified at the monstrous cruelties practised, urged Tilly to put a stop to them, but he coolly replied, "Give the soldiers another hour or two, and then come again!" Five days afterwards he made a triumphal entry into the remains of the burnt city, for so long did it require to clear a way for him through the ruinous streets. Upwards of six thousand four hundred corpses were thrown into the Elbe in this clearance, and the number of inhabitants destroyed is said to have amounted to thirty thousand. The savage fanatic wrote to the emperor an exulting despatch, saying, "Never since the destruction of Troy and Jerusalem, had there, in his opinion, been such a victory!" Except the implacable bigot of an emperor, Ferdinand II., who never ceased till he had thoroughly extirpated protestantism out of Bohemia, and was fast reducing Germany to the same condition, all Christendom was horrified at the news.

The Austrian army evacuated the desolated neighbourhood of Magdeburg, laden with enormous booty, for the city was one of the richest Hanse Towns. But some of the German princes now began to join Gustavus, and on the 17th of September the Swedish king gave battle to Tilly and Pappenheim before Leipsic, and routed them with great slaughter. This turned the scale of war: the cowed German princes once more raised their heads and entered into league with Gustavus, who soon drove the Austrians from the greater part of the country, took Hanau and Frankfort-on-the-Mainc, when Frederick the palsgrave joined him, hoping to be established by Gustavus in his patrimony. But the brave Swedish king, who was highly incensed against Charles, for not joining at his earnest entreaty in this enterprise, in which he himself was hazarding life, crown, and everything, of putting down the catholic ​

​tolerance, and placing a protestant emperor on the throne, though he received the palsgrave kindly, gave him no immediate hope of restoration. The English ambassador was there, pressing this vehemently on Gustavus; but the Swede told him he regarded him only as a Spaniard in disguise, and said bluntly, "Let the king of England make a league, with me against Spain. Let him send me twelve thousand men, to be maintained at his own cost, and which shall be placed entirely at my command, and I will engage to compel from both Spain and Bavaria full restoration of the palsgrave's rights."

Gustavus was perfectly right. Had Charles dealt honourably and politicly with his parliament and people, and husbanded his resources, here was the great opportunity to have re-established his sister and brother-in-law, and have had a glorious share in the victory of protestantism on the Continent. Gustavus recovered Darmstadt, Oppenheim, and Mainz, and then took up his winter quarters. Meantime, the Saxon field-marshal, von Arnim, invaded Bohemia, and took Prague, whilst the landgrave of Hesse Cassel, and duke Bernhard of Weimar, defeated several bodies of Tilly's troops in Westphalia and the Upper Rhine lands.

This sweeping reverse compelled the emperor to recall Wallenstein to the chief command; who, assembling forty thousand men at Znaim, in Bohemia, marched on Prague, and drove the Saxons not only thence, but out of Bohemia altogether. Meantime, Gustavits issuing from his winter quarters on the Rhine, directed his course to Nuremberg, and so to Donauwerth, and at Rain on the Lech fought with Tilly and the duke of Bavaria. Tilly was killed; and Gustavus advanced and took Augsburg in April, Munich on the 27th of May, and after in vain attacking Wallenstein before Nuremberg, he encountered him at Lutzen, in Saxony, and beat him, but fell himself in the hour of victory. He had, however, saved protestantism. Wallenstein lost favour after his defeat, was suspected by the emperor, and finally assassinated by his own officers. The generals of Gustavus, under the orders of Gustavus's great minister Oxeustjerna, continued the contest, and enabled the German protestant princes to establish their power, and the exercise of their religion, at the peace of Westphalia, in 1648.

Charles, shamed into some degree of co-operation, had despatched the marquis of Hamilton with six thousand men to the assistance of Gustavus; but the whole affair was so badly managed, the commissariat and general care of the men were so miserable, that the little army speedily became decimated by disease, and was of no service. Hamilton returned home, and the remains of his forces were routed under the command of the prince Charles Louis, son of the elector Frederick, in Westphalia. Frederick himself, deprived of all hope by the fall of Gustavus, only survived him about a fortnight; and thus ended the dream of the restoration of the Palatinate.

At home Charles had determined to rule without a parliament, but this necessarily drove him upon all those means of raising an income which parliament had protested against, and which must, therefore, continue to exasperate the people. Between the dissolution of the parliament, in 1629, and the summons of another, in 1640, these proceedings had wonderfully advanced the apparent cause of despotism, but the real cause of liberty; the nation had been scourged into a temper which left no means but the sword of appeasing it. The first unceremonious violation of his pledge to the public by the granting the Petition of Right, was levying as unscrupulously as ever the duties of tonnage and poundage; and the goods of all such as refused the illegal payment were immediately distrained upon and sold.

He next appointed a committee to inquire into the encroachments on the royal forests, a perfectly legitimate and laudable object, if conducted in a spirit of fairness and liberality. In all ages, gross encroachments have been made on these crown lands, and no doubt had been so extremely in the reckless reign of James. But it would seem that the commissioners proceeded in an arbitrary spirit, and relying on the power of the crown, often ruined those who resisted their decisions by the costs of law. The earl of Holland, a noted creature of the king's, was made head of this commission, and presided in a court established for the purpose. Under its operations vast tracts were recovered to the crown, and heavy fines for trespasses levied; Rockingham Forest was enlarged from a circuit of six miles to one of sixty, and the earl of Southampton was nearly ruined by the resumption of a large estate adjoining the New Forest. Even where these recoveries were made with right, they exasperated the aristocracy, who had been the great encroachers, and injured the king in their goodwill. Clarendon says, "To recompense the damage the crown sustained by the sale of old lands, and by the grant of new pensions, the old laws of the forest are revived; by which not only great fines are imposed, but great annual rents intended, and like to be settled by way of contract, which burden lighted most upon persons of quality and honour, who thought themselves above ordinary oppressions, and therefore, like to remember it with more sharpness."

Besides the tonnage and poundage, obsolete laws were revived, and other duties imposed on merchants' goods, and all who resisted were prosecuted, fined, and imprisoned. But a still more plausible scheme was hit upon for extorting money. The old feudal practice introduced by Henry II. and Edward I., of compelling all persons holding lands under the crown worth twenty pounds per annum, to receive knighthood, or to compound by a fine, had been enforced by Elizabeth and James, and was not likely to be passed over in this general inquisition after the means of income independent of parliament. All landed proprietors worth forty pounds a year were called on to accept the title of knight, and pay the fees, or were fined, and in default of payment, thrown into prison. "By this ill-husbandry," says Clarendon, "which, though it was founded in right, was most grievous from the mode of proceeding, vast sums were drawn from the subject. And no less unjust projects of all kinds, many ridiculous, many scandalous, all very grievous, were set on foot, the damage and reproach of which came to the king, the profit to other men; inasmuch as, of twenty thousand pounds a year, scarcely one thousand five hundred pounds came to the king's use or account."

A great commotion was raised by the king depriving ​many freeholders arbitrarily of their lands to enlarge Richmond Park, and he saw the necessity of making some compensation.

Another mode of raising money was by undoing in a great measure what the parliament had done by abolishing monopolies. True, Charles took care not to grant these monopolies to individuals, but to companies; but this, whilst it arrested the odium of seeing them in the hands of courtiers and favourites, increased their mischief by augmenting the number and power of the oppressors. These companies were enabled to dictate to the public the price of the articles included in their patent, and restrain at their pleasure their manufacture or sale. One of the most flagrant cases, was that of the company of soap-boilers, who purchased a monopoly of the manufacture of soap for ten thousand pounds, and a duty of eight pounds per ton on all the soap they made. The scheme was that of the renegade attorney-general Noye; and all who presumed to make soap for themselves, regardless of the monopoly, were prosecuted and fined, the company being authorised to search the premises of all soap-boilers, seize any made without a licence, and prosecute the offender in the star-chamber. There was a similar monopoly granted to starch-makers.

King James had conceived an idea that London was become too large, and that was the cause of the prevalence of the plague and contagious fevers. His wisdom had not penetrated the fact that the real cause lay in the want of drainage and cleanliness, and he issued repeated proclamations forbidding any more building of houses in the metropolis. The judges declared the proclamations as illegal as they were abused, and building went on as fast as ever. Here was an admirable opportunity for putting on the pecuniary screw. Charles, therefore, appointed a commission to inquire into the growth and extent of building done in defiance of his father's orders. If James was the Solomon of England, Charles was the Rehoboam,—resolute in wrong, and destined, like that obstinate monarch, to rend the crown and kingdom. Such persons who were willing to compound for their offences in brick and mortar, got off by paying a fine amounting to three years rental of the premises. Those who refused, pleaded in vain the decision of the judges, for Charles had a court independent of all judges but himself—that devilish instrument by which so long the constitution of the country had been reduced to fable, and Magna Charta made of no more value than a forged note, namely, the star-chamber; and those who escaped this fell into another inquisition as detestable—the court of the earl-marshal. Sturdy resisters, therefore, had their houses actually demolished, and were then fleeced in those infamous courts to complete their ruin. A Mr. Moore had erected forty-two houses of an expensive class, with coach-houses and stables, near St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. He was fined one thousand pounds, and ordered to pull them down before Easter, under penalty of another thousand pounds, but refusing, the sheriffs demolished the houses, and levied the money by distress. This terrified others, who submitted to a composition, and by these iniquitous means, one hundred thousand pounds were brought into the treasury.

Simultaneously with these tyrannic proceedings. Laud, bishop of London, and expectant archbishop of Canterbury, pursued the same course in the church. He had long been the most abject flatterer of the royal power, and now, supported by Wentworth, went on boldly to reduce all England to the most absolute slavery to church and state. He was supposed to have the intention of restoring the papal power in this country; but such was far enough from his intention. Like the Puseyites of the present time, he exceedingly regretted the simplicity of the worship adopted by the Anglican church, and the Calvinistic doctrine which prevailed in it; and was resolved to root out that notion, and restore all the showy rites and ceremonies of the catholic church, so imposing to the imaginations of the vulgar, both high and low, and, therefore, so adapted to both spiritual and political despotism. But with all this, neither Laud nor Charles dreamt for a moment of returning to the union with Rome, for the simple reason that they loved too well themselves the enjoyment of absolute power. Like Henry VIII., they could tolerate no pope but one disguised under the name of an English king. All their efforts went to maintain this Anglican papacy. For this all their ceremonies, and genuflections, and ecclesiastical paraphernalia, and lights, crosiers, and high altars, were revived—they were to give additional power over the multitude; but that power was to be solely vested in the king and the primate, and therefore no foreign pope. Never did the church, either in England or abroad, more egregiously deceive itself than by suspecting Laud or Charles of any design to put on again the yoke of the Roman pontiff. That spiritual potentate, deluded by such empty imagination, offered Laud a cardinal's hat, which was rejected with scorn.

On the 29th of May, 1630, the queen gave birth to Charles, afterwards Charles II, who was baptised on the 2nd of July, the ceremony being performed by Laud, who composed a prayer for the occasion, consisting of such ejaculations as the following:—"Double his father's graces upon him, O Lord, if it be possible!" This was a pretty good beginning of royal adulation in the very presence of God, and disgusted even bishop Williams, who had said and done some creeping things in his time, and who could not help designating it as "three-piled flattery and loathsome divinity." But Laud showed that he could be as savage to dissenters as he was impiously fulsome to the throne.

Charles had issued a proclamation, forbidding any one to introduce into the pulpit any remarks bearing on the great Arminian controversy which was raging in the kingdom:- Laud and his party in the church on one side, the zealous puritans on the other. Both sides were summoned with an air of impartiality into the star-chamber or High Commission Court, but came out with this difference, that the orthodox divines generally confessed their fault, and were dismissed with a reprimand; but the puritan ministers could not bend in that manner, sacrificing conscience to fear, and they were fined, imprisoned, and deprived without mercy. Davenant, bishop of Salisbury, Dr. Burgess, Dr. Prideaux, Dr. Hall, bishop of Norwich, whose poetry and liberality of spirit will long be held in honourable remembrance, and many others, were harassed because they did not preach exactly to the mind of Charles and Laud; but the treatment of Dr. Alexander Leighton, a Scotch puritan preacher, preacher was beyond all in brutality. There had been an ascent in ​prelatical evil through Parker, Whitgift, and Bancroft, but Laud completed the climax. As Charles marched far ahead of his father in daring absolutism, so Laud far transcended his predecessors in a daring hardihood, more haughty and cruel than they ever reached.

Leighton had published a pamphlet called "An Appeal to Parliament, or Zion's Plea against Prelacy." In this he had certainly made use of most bold and unsparing language. He declared that the king was misled by the bishops to the undoing of himself and people; that the queen was a daughter of Heth; that the bishops were men of blood; and that there never was a greater persecution, nor higher indignities done to God's people in any nation than in this, since the death of Elizabeth; that prelacy was notoriously anti-Christian; and the true laws of the church were derived from the Scriptures, not from the king, for no king could give laws to the house of God. This was so root and branch a denial of all that both church and state had assumed since the revolt of Henry VIII. from Rome, that it was certain to meet with severe castigation. It quickly attracted the eye of Laud, who in June, 1630, had him dragged into the High Commission Court, where he was condemned to the following horrible punishment, than which the records of the Spanish or Italian inquisitions preserve nothing more infernal. That he should be imprisoned for life, should pay a fine of ten thousand pounds, be degraded from his ministry, whipped, set in the pillory, have one of his ears cut off, one side of his nose slit, and be branded on the forehead with a double S.S., as a sower of sedition. He was then to be carried back to prison, and after a few days be pilloried again, whipped, have the other side of his nose slit, the other ear cut off, and shut up in his dungeon, to be released only by death!

When Laud heard this merciless sentence pronounced, he pulled off his cap and gave God thanks for it!

By the 26th of November the whole of these incredible barbarities, except the imprisonment, had been perpetrated on this learned and excellent man, formerly professor of moral philosophy in the University of Edinburgh; and when on the sitting of the long parliament he sent in his petition for release, the whole house was moved to tears by the recital of those sufferings which Laud and the government of Charles had inflicted and rejoiced in. They were thus expressed:—"That he was apprehended coming from a sermon, by a High Commission warrant, and dragged along the streets with bills and staves to London House. That the gaoler of Newgate clapped him in irons, and carried him, with a strong force, into a loathsome and miserable dog-hole, full of rats and mice, that had no light but a little grate, the roof being uncovered, so that the snow and rain beat upon him, and where he had no bed or place for fire, but a ruinous old smoky chimney. In this woful place he was shut up fifteen weeks, nobody being permitted to come to him. That the fourth day after his commitment, the pursuivant, with a mighty multitude, came to his house to search for Jesiut books, and used his wife in such a barbarous and inhuman manner, as he was ashamed to express. That they rifled every person and place, holding a pistol to the head of a child five years old, threatening to kill him if he did not discover the books; broke open chests, presses, boxes; carried everything away, even household stuff, &c. That, at the end of fifteen weeks, he was served with a subpoena, on an information laid against him by the attorney-general, whose dealing with him was full of cruelty and deceit. That he was then so sick that his physician thought he had been poisoned, because all his hair and skin came off; and that, in the height of his sickness, the cruel sentence was passed upon him, and executed November 26th, 1630, when he received thirty-six stripes upon his naked back with a three-fold cord, his hands being tied to a stake, and then stood almost two hours in the pillory, in frost and snow, before he was branded on the face, his nose slit, and his ears cut off, after which he was carried by water to the Fleet, shut up in a room where he was never well, and after eight years turned into the common gaol!"

Such were religion and government in this country in those days!

The endeavours of Laud to compel conformity to the church were as active and unsparing against public bodies as against individuals. There had been a general subscription set on foot, and association formed, for the purpose of buying up lay impropriations, and employing them in the support of the ministry. Laud soon discovered that this party was of the puritan class. In the words of that thorough courtier. Sir Philip Warwick, "he prevented a very private and clandestine design of introducing nonconformists into too many churches; for that society of men, that they might have preachers to please their itching ears, had a design to buy in all the lay impropriations which the parish churches in Henry VIII.'s time were robbed of, and lodging the advowsons and presentations in their own feoffees, to have introduced men who would have introduced doctrines which the court already felt too much the smart of." That Laud, with his notions, should endeavour to stop this process is not to be wondered at. Noye, the attorney-general, brought the twelve trustees in whom this property was invested into the court of exchequer, and after counsel had been heard on both sides, it was decided that they had usurped on the prerogative by erecting themselves into a corporation, and that both the impropriations and the money in hand were forfeited to the crown, to be employed by the king for the benefit of the church, as he should see fit.

Having reduced the refractory members of the church and of parliament in England to silence for the present, Charles determined to make a journey into Scotland, there to be crowned, to raise revenue, and to establish the Anglican hierarchy in that part of his dominions. For the latter purpose he took Laud with him. He reached Edinburgh on the 12th of June, 1633, where he was received by the inhabitants by demonstrations of lively rejoicing, as if they were neither aware of the character and views of the monarch, nor remembered the consequences of the visit of his father. On the 18th he was crowned in Edinburgh by the archbishop of St. Andrews; but Laud did not let that opportunity pass without giving them a foretaste of what was coming. "It was observed," says Rushworth, "that Dr. Laud was high in his carriage, taking upon him the order and managing of the ceremonies; and, for instance, Spotswood, archbishop of St. Andrews, being placed at the ​king's right hand, and Lindsey, archbishop of Glasgow, at his left, bishop Laud took Glasgow and thrust him from the king with these words:—'Are you a churchman, and want the coat of your order?'—which was an embroidered coat, which he scrupled to wear, being a moderate churchman—and in place of him put in the bishop of Ross at the king's right hand."

This question of the embroidered robes of the Roman hierarchy, which Laud had again introduced, with the high altar, the tapers, chalices, genuflections, and oil of unction, was speedily introduced into parliament, and forced on the reluctant Scots, to whom the whole were abominations. They had voted supplies with a most liberal spirit, and laid on a land tax of four hundred thousand pounds Scotch for six years; but when the king proposed to pass a bill authorising the robes, ceremonies, and rites just mentioned there was a stout opposition. The venerable Lord Melville said plainly to Charles, "I have sworn with your father and the whole kingdom to the confession of faith in which the innovations intended by these articles were solemnly abjured." And the bishop of the Isles told him at dinner that it was said amongst the people that his entrance into the city had been with hosannas, but that it would be changed, like that of the Jews to our Saviour, into, "Away with him, crucify him!" Charles is said to have turned thoughtful, and eaten no more. Yet the next day he as positively as ever insisted on the parliament passing the articles, and pointing to a paper in his hand, said, "Your names are here; I shall know to-day who will do me service, and who will not."

Notwithstanding this, the house voted against it by a considerable majority, there being opposed to it fifteen peers and forty-five commoners; yet the lord-register, under influence of the court, audaciously declared that the articles were accepted by parliament. The earl of Rothes had the boldness to deny this, and to demand a scrutiny of the votes; but Charles intimidated both him and all dissentients by refusing any scrutiny unless Rothes would arraign the lord-register of the capital crime of falsifying the votes. This was a course too perilous for any individual under the circumstances: Rothes was silent; the articles were ratified by the crown, and parliament was forthwith dissolved on the 28th of June.

Having thus carried his point with the parliament, Charles took every means, except that which had brought upon him so much odium in England, namely, imprisoning and prosecuting the members who opposed him, to express his dissatisfaction with them. He distributed lands and honours upon those who had fallen in with his wishes, and treated the dissentients with sullen looks, and even severe words, when they came in his way. They were openly ridiculed by his courtiers, and dubbed schismatics and seditious. Lord Balmerino was even condemned to death for a pamphlet being found in his possession, complaining of the king's arbitrary conduct in these concerns; but the sentence was too atrocious to be executed.

Charles and Laud erected Edinburgh into a bishopric, with a diocese extending even to Berwick, and richly endowed with old church lands, which were surrendered by nobles who held them for a consideration. A set of singing men were also appointed for Holyrood chapel; and Laud, who had been made a privy councillor, preached there in full pontificals, to the great scandal of all good presbyterians. Thence Charles and his apostle made a tour to St. Andrews, Dundee, Falkland, Dunblane, &c., to the singular discomfort of the little churchman amongst the rough fastnesses of the Highlands.

Immediately after this, Charles posted to London in four days, leaving Laud to travel more at leisure. No doubt, both master and man thought they had made a very fine piece of work of this forcing of the Scottish consciences: they were destined in a while to feel what it actually was, in rebellion and the sharp edge of the axe.

Scarcely had they reached London, when they heard the news of the death of archbishop Abbot, and Charles was thus enabled to reward Laud for all his services in building up despotism and superstition by making him primate, which he did on the 6th of August, 1633. It was a curious coincidence that about the same time Laud received a second offer of a cardinal's hat, and he seems to have been greatly tempted by it. He says that he acquainted his majesty with the offer, and that the king rescued him from the trouble and danger; for he adds there was something dwelling in him which would not suffer him to accept the offer till Rome was other than she was. To have accepted a cardinal's hat was to have gone over to the church of Rome, and the church of England was for him a much better thing now he was primate. The only wonder is, that as he had restored the high altars, tapers, confession, the crosier, and the crucifix, he did not introduce a race of Anglican cardinals.

There undoubtedly did at this precise time take place an active but private negotiation betwixt the courts of Rome and England on this topic. The queen was anxious to have the dignity of cardinal conferred on a British subject. Probably she thought that the residence of the English cardinal at London would be a stepping-stone to the full restoration of Catholicism. Towards the end of August, immediately after Laud's elevation to the primacy. Sir Robert Douglas was sent to Rome as envoy from the queen, with a letter of credence, signed by the earl of Stirling, secretary of state for Scotland. His mission was this proposal of an English cardinal, as a measure which would contribute greatly to the conversion of the king. To carry out this negotiation, Leander, an English Benedictine monk, was despatched to England, followed soon after by Panzani, an Italian priest.

From the despatches of Panzani, we find that there existed a strong party at the English court for the return to the allegiance of Rome, amongst whom were secretary Windebank, lord chancellor Cottington, Goodman, bishop of Gloucester, and Montague, bishop of Chichester. He was informed that none of the bishops except three—those of Durham, Salisbury, and Exeter, would object to a purely spiritual supremacy of the pope, and very few indeed of the clergy.

Douglas was followed to Rome by Sir William Hamilton, to prosecute this secret business, but it all came to nothing, for the king, who was seeking absolute power, was not likely to listen to any proposal for submitting again to the ​yoke of Rome; and the pope, on his part, would not comply with Charles's request to exert his influence with catholic Austria for the restoration of his sister and her son in the Palatinate so long as they continued protestants. Laud was therefore relieved from his temptation to receive the cardinal's hat by the resolve of the king to yield not one jot of his spiritual or political power, and a Scotch catholic being at Rome, named Conn, was mentioned as candidate for the purple instead. He came to England, and was graciously received not only by the queen, but the king too. He resided in England three years, but without the cardinal's hat, and was succeeded by count Rossetti, as the pope's envoy; and the rumours of the offers of the scarlet hat to Laud, and the residence of these papal envoys in London, exceedingly excited the jealousy of the people, and added immensely to Charles's impopularity; for no one felt sure of his real faith.

As Laud, however, could not array himself in scarlet as a cardinal, he determined to make the Anglican church as popish and himself as much of a pope as possible. Before reaching the primacy he had gone a good way. The spoliation of the church by Henry VIII. and Edward VI., and their greedy nobility, had deprived it of the means of keeping the ecclesiastical buildings in repair. The catholic church in England had appropriated the property of the establishment to three objects: one, the maintenance of the clergy and religious orders; the second to the maintenance of the buildings of the churches and cathedrals; and the ​

​third to the support of the poor. Thus the patrimony of the poor was swallowed up by the aristocracy, and the maintenance of the poor thrown upon the country, and fixed there by the 43rd of Elizabeth. The patrimony of the public for the maintenance of the church buildings being equally divided by the Russells, Villierses, Seymours, Dudleys, and a thousand ether court leeches, neither Charles nor Laud, with all their sticking for the church, dared to call upon them to disgorge their prey; but a proclamation was issued to the bishops for the repairs of all the churches and chapels, and they were to levy the necessary rates on the parishioners at large, and to exert the powers of the ecclesiastical courts against all such as resisted. This excited a serious ferment amongst the people, which was greatly increased by the general opinion that these repairs should be done out of the tithes which they paid either to lay or clerical personages. No regard was paid to these complaints; but Laud proceeded to consecrate such churches as were thus repaired, with all the splendid mummery of catholicism, as if they had been desecrated by their neglect. The account of his consecration of the church of St. Catherine Creed, in London, will give the reader a fair idea of the rampant folly at which this ceremony-monger had arrived. The particulars of it will be found in Rushworth, Welwood, Franklyn, and others.

On the bishop's approach to the west door of the church, a loud voice cried, "Open, open, ye everlasting doors, that the king of glory may enter in!" Immediately the doors of the church flew open, and the bishop entered. Falling upon his knees, with eyes elevated and arms expanded, he uttered these words—"This place is holy; the ground is holy: in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I pronounce it holy-"

Going towards the chancel, he several times took up from the floor some of the dust, and threw it into the air. When he approached with his attendants near the communion-table, he bowed frequently towards it; and on their return they went round the church, repeating as they marched along some of the psalms, and then said a form of prayer, which ended with these words:—"We consecrate this church, and separate it unto thee, as holy ground, not to be profaned any more to common uses."

After this, the bishop, standing near the communion-table, solemnly pronounced many imprecations upon such as should afterwards pollute that holy place by musters of soldiers, or keeping in it profane law courts, or carrying burthens through it. On the conclusion of every curse, he turned towards the east, and cried, "Let all the people say. Amen."

The imprecations being all so piously finished, there were poured out a number of blessings upon such as had any hand in framing and building that sacred edifice, and on such as had given, or should hereafter give to it, any chalices, plate, ornaments, or utensils. At every benediction, he in like manner bowed towards the east, and said, "Let all the people say. Amen."

The sermon followed, after which the bishop consecrated and administered the sacrament in the following manner:— As he approached the communion-table, he made many low reverences and coming up to that part of the table where the bread and wine lay, he bowed seven times. After the reading of many prayers, he approached the sacramental elements, and gently lifted up the corner of the napkin in which the bread was placed. When he beheld the bread, he suddenly let fall the napkin, flew back a step or two, bowed three several times towards the bread, then drew nigh again, opened the napkin, and bowed as before. Next, he had his hand on the cup, which had a cover upon it, and was filled with wine. He let go the cup, fell back, and bowed thrice towards it. He approached again, and lifting up the cover, peeped into the cup. Seeing the wine, he let fall the cover, started back, and bowed as before. Then he received the sacrament and gave it to others, and many prayers being said, the consecration was ended.

Such a display of popery in the church of England excited the greatest scandal and alarm, and as if to console the public, lady Eleanor Davies, the wife of the attorney-general, Sir John Davies, an excellent poet, but most time-serving lawyer, prophecied that Laud should only "a very few days outlive the 5th of November." This lady, a daughter of the earl of Castlehaven, was a woman of a wonderful reputation for her prophecies at the time. The queen had consulted her to know whether she should have a son, and she informed her that she would, but that it would be born, christened, and die the same day, all of which took place. This had wonderfully raised her reputation, and the ladies of the court ran after her in crowds. The king, not so well pleased with the verification of her prediction, forbade the queen to consult her again. He sent a Mr. Kirke to Sir John, telling him to make his wife hold her tongue; but this was beyond the power of the learned attorney-general or of the king either; for the very messenger, having seen Sir John, contrived to see lady Eleanor too, and asked in the queen's name whether her majesty would have another son, to which she replied, "Yes, and a strong child, too." The messenger was so elated with his answer, that he told it to others besides the queen, and the people fully believing it, made bonfires on the occasion. But Laud was not to be touched with impunity, he summoned lady Eleanor into the star-chamber, for she had, moreover, predicted the death of Buckingham, and Laud was really terrified. She, nothing daunted, told the bishops and divines who interrogated her that she was inspired by the prophet Daniel, as might be seen by the anagram of her name. Eleanor Davies—Reveal, O Daniel! But Lambe, the dean of the arches, said that the anagram was not a true one; for there was an i. too much and an's too little in it, and that the true anagram was, "Dame Eleanor Davies—Never so mad a lady!" The reading of this produced a general burst of laughter in the court; and so cast down the prophetess, that she was dismissed as harmless.

Laud having survived the fatal prediction of the 5th of November, went on with his grand scheme of the restoration of churches, both in stonework and ceremonial. He obtained a commission under the great seal for the repair of St. Paul's Cathedral. The judges of the prerogative courts, and their officials throughout England and Wales, were ordered to pay into the chamber in London all moneys derived from persons during intestate, to be applied to the restoration of this church. The clergy were called on by the bishops in their ​several dioceses, to furnish an annual subsidy for this object. The king contributed at various times ten thousand pounds; Sir Paul Pindar four thousand pounds; and Laud, who was more free of other men's money than his own, gave one hundred pounds a year. He was bent on making St. Paul's a rival of St. Peter's; and as more money became necessary, he summoned wealthy people into the High Commission Court on all possible pleas, of immoral life, and fined them heavily; so that there was a plentiful crop of money, and of murmurs against the primate, who was said to be building the church out of the sins of the people.

He was vehemently accused of going headlong towards popery. Papers were dropped in the streets, or stuck upon the walls, or privately conveyed into his house, in which he was charged with his apostacy, and menaced with its punishment. To pacify such enemies, he was obliged to make a show of hatred to popery. It was talked abroad that he had assured the king of his determination to give a preference to all livings at his disposal to clergymen who lived in celibacy. This was a severs blow at him, for the clergy took it up with great heat, and he immediately got up a marriage betwixt one of his chaplains and a relative of secretary Windebank, a creature of his, and then gave the chaplain preferment, as a practical answer to the charge. He summoned before the council a schoolmaster and innkeeper at Winchester, for bringing up catholic scholars; and having licensed a catholic book, called "An Introduction to a Devout Life," in which the word mass was altered to divine service, he called it in and burnt it.

Yet the proofs of his anti-catholic zeal stopped short on an occasion when, if the work of art had been of real value, we should have commended his taste. A Mr. Sherfield, a barrister, and recorder of Salisbury, by order of a vestry, in accordance with the canons of the reformed church and of acts of parliaments, took down a painting from the window of the church of St. Edmunds, and broke it to pieces. Laud summoned him to the star-chamber for this offence, where Sherfield pleaded that the picture was derogatory to the character of the Almighty, and unfaithful to Scripture. The subject was creation, and the treatment, he contended, was false and impious. "God the Father was painted like an old man, with a blue coat and a pair of compasses, to signify his compassing the heavens and the earth. In the fourth day's work, there were fowls of the air flying up from God their maker, which should have been the fifth day. In the fifth day's work a naked man is lying upon the earth asleep, with so much of a naked woman as from the knees upward growing out of his side, which should have been the sixth day: so that the history is false." Laud, however, contended that the destruction of such works kept moderate catholics from going to church; and though some of the court hinted a doubt whether Laud was not himself going fast to the catholic church, Sherfield was condemned to a fine of five hundred pounds, to the loss of his office of recorder, to make an acknowledgment of his error in the church of St. Edmunds, where he had broken the window, and in the cathedral also, and to give security against the commission of any such action of the kind.

Laud had obtained for his devoted adherents Windebank the post of secretary of state, and Juxton, dean of Westminster, that of clerk of the king's closet so that, as Heylin observes, the king was so well watched by his stanch friends that it was not easy for any one to insinuate anything to his disadvantage; and he went on most sweepingly in his own way. He put down all evening lecturing, evening meetings, and extemporary praying. He went on re-introducing in the churches painted glass, pictures, and surplices, lawn sleeves, and embroidered caps; had the communion-tables removed, and altars placed instead, and railed in; and he carried all this with such an arbitrary hand, that many who might have approved of them in themselves, were highly set against them. The more simple and strict reformers complained of the looseness with which the Sabbath was kept, and the lord chief justice Richardson and baron Denham issued an order in the western circuit to put an end to the disorder attending church-ales, bid-ales, clerk-ales, and the like. But no sooner did Laud hear of it, then he had the lord chief justice summoned before the council and severely reprimanded, as interfering with the commands of king James for the practice of such Sunday sports, as recommended in his Book of Sports, and since confirmed by Charles.

The country magistrates, who had seen the demoralisation consequent on these sports and Sunday gatherings at the ale-houses, petitioned the king to put them down; and the petition was signed by lord Paidet, Sir William Portman, Sir Ralph Hopeton, and many other gentlemen of distinction But they were forestalled by the agility of Laud, who procured from the king a declaration sanctioning all the Sunday amusements to be found in the Book of Sports, and commanding all judges on circuit, and all justices of the peace to see that no man was molested on that account. This declaration was ordered to be read in all parish churches by the clergy. Many conscientious clergy, who had seen too much of the dissolute riot resulting from these rude gatherings of clowns on Sundays, refused to read the declaration, and were suspended from their duties, and prosecuted to such a degree that they had no alternative but to emigrate to America.

This dictation of Laud extended over the whole kingdom, into Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, even stirring up Charles to issue proclamation after proclamation, interfering in things entirely beyond the range of his episcopal jurisdiction, such as regulating the price of poultry and the retailing of tobacco. In Ireland, Wentworth, now made lord deputy, went hand in hand with all the whims of this universal dictator. That he might the better interfere in all kinds of matters, he was appointed in 1631 chief of the board of commissioners of the exchequer, and on the death of Weston, lord Portland, the lord high treasurer. He then got his friend and servant Juxton made bishop of London, and in about a year surrendered to him the treasurership, to the surprise and murmuring of many, for Juxton, till he brought him forward, was a man of no mark whatever. Lord chancellor Cottington, who had been a fast friend of Laud's, and calculated on the white staff of the treasurer, now fell away from Laud, and many noblemen who had had an eye to it began to prophecy what the end of his career would be. But. the University of Oxford, going the whole way with him in his advances towards popery, styled him "His holiness, Sumnaus ​Pontifex, Spiritu Sancto effusissime planus, Archangelus et nequid minus!" And Laud accepted all this base adulation, and declared that these most unprotestant and revolting titles were quite proper, because they had been applied to the popes and fathers of the Romish church. In fact, as we have observed, he desired to be the pope of England. And in this great papal authority he was fain to stretch his coercing hand over the churches wherever they were. He procured an order in council to shut the English factories in Holland, and compel the troops serving there to conform to the liturgy of the church of England. Most of the merchants and many of those soldiers had gone thither expressly to enjoy their own forms of religion; but no matter, they must conform. And says Heylin, "The like course was prescribed for our factories in Hamburg, and those farther off, that is to say in Turkey, in the Mogul's dominions, the Indian islands, the plantations in Virginia, the Barbadoes, and all other places where the English had any standing residence in the way of trade." This order was to be carried into the houses and establishments of all ambassadors and consuls abroad.

Thus did this arrant example of that worst species of tyrant, the ecclesiastical tyrant, stretch with a restless, domineering avidity, his busy, meddling hand over the whole extent of the British dominions, into the most distant regions and obscure nooks of the globe, and into the most private recesses of the ambassadorial home, to nip every bud of free conscience, to extinguish every free biblical sentiment, and to compress all souls, if possible, into his own shape of dry and tawdry formalism. But even there he was far from having reached the extremity of his interference. He turned his eyes on the foreign refugees who had fled from the fury of intolerance in their own countries. The Dutch protestants and French Huguenots, who had brought their trades and their religion hither, and under the sanction of Elizabeth, James, and Charles himself, were benefiting the nation by their quiet labours, were called on to conform to Laud's English popery. The weavers of Yorkshire, of Norwich, and other places, were called onto abandon their own rituals and adopt that of Laud. In vain they remonstrated and petitioned; in vain Soubise, who had been ruined by trusting to Charles and Buckingham in the affair of Rochelle, and now lived in England, reminded Charles of his most solemn promises. All he could obtain was, that in the province of Canterbury the refugees might retain their own church service, but their children must go to the English church.

"When," says Roger Coke, "these injunctions were to be put in execution at Norwich, the Dutch and French congregations petitioned Dr. Matthew Wren, the bishop of the diocese, that these injunctions might not be imposed upon them; but finding no relief, appealed to the archbishop, who returned a sharp answer As the Spanish trade was the most enriching trade to this nation, so the trade to Hamburg, and the countries and kingdoms within the Sound, with our woollen manufactures, was the best the English had for the employment of people, shipping, and navigation. The company which traded with the Sound was called the East Country Company, and queen Elizabeth, and after her king James, to honour them, called it the Royal Company. This trade the English enjoyed time out of mind; and the cloths which supplied it were principally made in Suffolk and Yorkshire; and Ipswich, as it was the finest town in England, and had the noblest harbour on the east, and most convenient for the trade of the northern and eastern parts of the world, so till this time it was in as flourishing a state as any other in England. The bishop of Norwich; straining these injunctions to the utmost, frightened thousands of families out of Norfolk and Suffolk into New England; and about one hundred and forty families of the workers of these woollen manufacturers went into Holland, where the Dutch—as wise as queen Elizabeth was in entertaining the Walloons persecuted by the duke of Alva—established these English excise free, and house-rent free, for seven years; and from these the Dutch became instructed in working those manufactures, which before they knew not."

Such are always the blind works of bigotry. This, however, was not the last effort of Laud in his attempts at universal domination. He resolved to visit the two universities, and bring them up to his model. They resisted, declaring that his grace was only chancellor of Oxford, and, the earl of Holland of Cambridge, and refused to admit him without a royal warrant. The matter was debated before the privy council, and it was shown that no archbishop of Canterbury had ever visited either university jure metropolitano; but nevertheless Laud had his way, and made them conform to his wishes.

These proceedings marked out Laud as one of those despots of the first rank who ever and anon astonish the world by the monstrous character of their intense egotism, to whom everything in the world is of less consequence than its gratification; but in his exercise of this diseased will on individuals, there is nothing isolated of demons which can exceed his elaborate cruelty.

William Prynne was a young graduate of Oxford, originally from Fainswick, near Bath, but now an outer barrister of Lincoln's Inn. He was a thorough puritan, grave, stern in his ideas, and rigid in his morals, a man who was ready to sacrifice reputation, life, and everything, for his high ideal of religious truth. He was persuaded that much of the dissoluteness of the young men around him arose from the debasing effect of frequenting the theatres; and in that he was probably correct, for the theatres were not in that age, nor long after, fitting schools for youth. He therefore wrote a huge volume of a thousand pages against the stage, called "Histriomastix." He stated that forty thousand copies of plays had been exposed for sale within two years, and were eagerly bought up. That the theatres were the chapels of Satan, the players his ministers, and their frequenters were rushing headlong into hell. Dancing was, in his opinion, an equally diabolical amusement, and every pace was a step nearer to Tophet. Dancing made the ladies of England frizzled madams, destroyed their modesty, and would destroy them as it had done Nero, and led three Romans to assassinate Gallienus. He went on to attack everything that Laud had been supporting—Maypoles, public festivals, church-ales, music, and Christmas carols; the cringings and duckings at the altar which Laud had so much fostered, and all the silk and satin divines, their pluralities, and their bellowing chants in the church. Laud had made two vain attempts to lay hold on this ​pestilent satirist, but the lawyers had defeated him by injunctions from Westminster Hall. But the third time, by accusing him more exclusively of reflecting on the king and queen by his strictures on dancing, he obtained an order for the attorney-general Noye to indict him in the star-chamber. There he was condemned to be excluded from the bar and from Lincoln's Inn, to be deprived of his university degree, to pay a fine of five thousand pounds, to have his book burnt before his face by the hangman, to stand in the pillory at Westminster and in Cheapside, at each place to lose an ear, and afterwards to be imprisoned for life. This most detestable sentence was carried into effect in May, 1634, with brutal ferocity, although the queen interceded earnestly in his favour, and the nation denounced the barbarity in no equivocal language.

Prynne, undaunted, nay, exasperated to greater daring by this cruelty, resumed the subject in his prison, whence he issued a tract styled "News from Ipswich," in which he charged the prelates with being the bishops of Lucifer, devouring wolves, and execrable traitors, who had overthrown the pure simplicity of the Gospel to introduce afresh the superstitions of popery. He had found in prison a congenial soul, Dr. Bastwick, a physician, who had written a treatise against the bishop, called "Elenchus papismi et flagellum episcoporum Latialium, for which he had been condemned to pay a fine of one thousand pounds to the king, to be imprisoned two years, and to make recantation. He now, that is in 1639, wrote a fresh tract: "Apologeticus ad præsntes Anglicanos'," and the "Litanie of John Bastwick, doctor of physic, lying in Limbo patrum," in which he attacked both the bishops' and Laud's service books.

A third person was Henry Burton, who had been chaplain to Charles when on his journey to Spain; but being now-incumbent of St. Matthew, in London, he had preached against the bishops as "blind watchmen, dumb dogs, ravening wolves, anti-Christian mushrooms, robbers of souls, limbs of the beast, and factors of antichrist."

These zealous religionists, whom the cruelties and follies of Laud and his bishops had driven almost beside themselves, were condemned in the star-chamber to be each fined five thousand pounds, to stand two hours in the pillory, where they were to have their ears cut off, to be branded on both cheeks with the letters S.L., for seditious libeller, and then imprisoned for life.

This sentence, than which the Spanish inquisition had nothing worse to show, was fully executed in Old Palace Yard, on the 30th of June, 1637. Prynne from the pillory defied all Lambeth, with the pope at its back, to prove to him that such doings were according to the law of England; and if he failed to prove them violators of that law and the law of God, they were at liberty to hang him at the door of the Gate House prison. On hearing this the people gave a great shout; but the executioner, as if incited to more cruelty, cut off their ears as barbarously as possible, rather sawing than cutting them. Prynne, who is said to have had his ears on the former occasion sewed on again, had them now gouged out, as it were; yet as the hangman sawed at them he cried out, "Cut me, tear me, I fear thee not. I fear the fire of hell, but not thee!" Burton, too, harangued the people for a long time most eloquently; but the sun blazing hotly in their faces all the time, he was near fainting, when he was carried into a house in King Street, saying, "It is too hot! Too hot, indeed!"

This most disgraceful exhibition made a terrible impression on the spectators, of whom the king was informed that there were one hundred thousand; whilst the executioner sawed at the ears of the prisoners they assailed him with curses, hisses, and groans. Both Charles and Laud were unpleasantly surprised at the effect produced; and to remove the sufferers from public sympathy, they determined to send them to distant and solitary prisons, far separate from each other—to Launceston, Carnarvon, and Lancaster. But the king and his high priest were still more amazed and alarmed when they found on the removal of the prisoners the crowds were equally immense, and that they went along from place to place in a kind of triumph. To attend Burton from Smithfield to two miles beyond Highgate, there were again at least one hundred thousand people, who testified their deep sympathy, and threw money into the coach to his wife as she drove along. Money and presents were also offered to Prynne, but he refused them. Gentlemen of wealth and station pressed to see and condole with the prisoners, whom they honoured and applauded as martyrs. When Prynne reached Chester, on his way to Carnarvon, one of the sheriffs, attended by a number of gentlemen, met him, invited him to a good dinner, discharged the cost, and gave him some hangings to furnish his dungeon with in Carnarvon Castle.

This popular demonstration still more startled Laud, who summoned the sheriff, as well as the other gentlemen, before the High Commission Court at York, where they were fined in sums varying from two hundred and fifty pounds to five hundred pounds, and condemned to acknowledge their offence before the congregation in the cathedral, and the corporation in the town hall of Chester. The prisoners themselves were ordered to be removed farther still, and accordingly Bastwick was sent to the isle of Scilly, Burton to the castle of Cornet in Guernsey, and Prynne to that of Mount Orgueil in Jersey. But the king and archbishop had now roused a spirit, by their cutting off of ears, which would be satisfied ere long with nothing less than their whole heads.

To stop the outcry against their cruelties, they next determined to gag the press. An order was therefore issued by the star-chamber, forbidding all importation of foreign books, and the printing of any at home without licence. All books on religion, physic, literature, and poetry, must be licensed by the bishops, so that all truths unpleasant to the church would thus be suppressed. There were to be allowed only twenty master printers in the kingdom, except those of his majesty and the universities; no printer was to have more than two presses nor two apprentices, except the warden of the company. There were to be only four letter-founders; and whoever presumed to print without licence was to be whipped through London, and set in the pillory. All this time the High Commission Court kept pace with the star-chamber in its prosecutions and arbitrary fines, under pretence of protecting public morals.

Laud soon had delinquents against the atrocious order for gagging the press. In about six months after the infliction of the savage sentence on Prynne and his associates, he called ​into the star-chamber John Lilburne and John Warton, for printing Prynne's "News from Ipswich," and other books called libellous. The accused refused to take the oath proposed to them, protesting against the lawfulness of the court. Being called up several times, and still obstinately refusing, they were condemned to be fined five hundred pounds apiece, Lilburne to be whipped from the Fleet to the pillory, and both bound to their good behaviour.

Lilburne was one of the most determined men that ever lived. He continued to declaim violently against the tyranny of Laud and his bishops whilst he was standing in the pillory and was undergoing his whipping. He drew from his pockets a number of the very pamphlets he was punished for printing, and scattered them from the pillory amongst the crowd. The court of star-chamber being informed of his conduct, sent and had him gagged; but he then stamped with his feet to intimate that he would still speak if he could. He was then thrown into the Fleet, heavily ironed and in solitude.

To complete Laud's attacks on all persons and parties, there lacked only an onslaught on the episcopal bench, and there he found Williams, formerly lord keeper, and still bishop of Lincoln, for a victim. Williams, with all his faults, had been a true friend of Laud's at a time when he had very few, and the wily upstart had declared that his very life would be too short to demonstrate his gratitude: but he took full occasion to display towards him his ingratitude. From the moment that Laud was introduced to the king, Williams could ill conceal his disgust at the clerical adventurer's base adulation. But Laud continued to ascend and Williams to descend. Williams having lost the seals, retired to his diocese, where he made himself very popular by his talents, his agreeable manners, his hospitality, and still more by his being regarded as a victim of the arbitrary spirit of the king and of Laud. Williams, who had a stinging wit, launched a tract at the head of the primate, called the "Holy Table," in which he unmercifully satirised Laud's parade of high altars and popish ceremonies. The ​

​primate very speedily had him in the star-chamber, where he received private information that if he would give up to Laud his deanery of Westminster, that disinterested prelate would let the prosecution slip. Williams refused, and then commenced one of the most disgraceful scenes in history. Laud, Windebank, and the king were determined to force the deanery and a heavy fine from him. They brow-beat his witnesses, threw them in to prison to compel them to swear falsely; removed chief justice Heath to put in a more pliant man, and at length, through the medium of lord Cottington, induced Williams, from terror of worse, to give up the deanery and pay a fine of ten thousand pounds. His servants and agents, Walker, Cathn, and Limn, were fined three hundred pounds a-piece, and Powell two hundred pounds.

This being done. Laud uttered a most hypocritical speech, professing high admiration of the talents, wisdom, learning, and various endowments of Williams, and his sorrow to see him thus punished, declaring that he had gone five times on his knees to the king to sue for his pardon. But even so Williams was not destined to escape. The officers who went to take possession of his effects, found amongst his papers two letters from Osbaldeston, master of Westminster school, in one of which he said that the great leviathan—the late lord treasurer, Portland—and the little urchin. Laud, were in a storm; and in the other that there "was great jealousy between the leviathan and the little meddling hocus-pocus."

This, which was no crime of Williams, but of Osbaldeston, was, however, made a crime of both. Williams was condemned on the charge of concealing a libel on a public officer, and fined eight thousand pounds more, and to suffer imprisonment during the king's pleasure. The chief offender, Osbaldeston, could not be found; he had left a note saying he was "gone beyond Canterbury;" but he was sentenced to deprivation of his office, to be branded, and stand opposite to his own school in the pillory, with his ears nailed to it. He took good care, however, not to fall into such merciless bands.

Such was Laud up to this point. One of those awful exhibitions which the history of the church, ever and anon, has presented. Professing the meek and benevolent gospel of Christ, but acting the unmitigated gospel of the devil; ambitious beyond the stretch of imagination, cruel as death, insatiable as the grave. There are those who have pronounced him honest, pious, and a pattern of ecclesiastical eminence. We leave his actions to speak for themselves. The press was now in his hands, he had made terrible examples of such as dared to differ in opinion from him; yet instead of having in reality reached a secure preeminence, he had created ten thousand implacable enemies, who only bided their time. We must now turn our attention to his brother in the "thorough," the equally insane despot Wentworth.

Amongst those means of raising a permanent revenue for the crown, independent of parliament, which we have already detailed, as tonnage and poundage, the fees on compulsory knighthood, and the resumption of forest lands, there was discovered another which was owing to the ingenuity of attorney-general Noye. The landed proprietors had been greatly alarmed by the rumours that the king would lay claim to the greater part of every county in England except Kent, Sussex, and Surrey, but the whole public was struck with consternation at the additional project of the attorney-general. As he had been always of a surly and morose disposition, he carried this ungracious manner with him into his apostacy. Formerly he had acted like a rude ill-tempered patriot, now he was the more odious from being at once obsequious to the crown, and coarsely insolent to those whose rights he invaded.

In the records of the Tower he discovered writs compelling the ports and maritime counties to provide a certain number of ships during war, or for protecting the coasts from pirates. It was now declared that the seas were greatly infested with Turkish corsairs, who not only intercepted our merchantmen at sea, but made descents on the coast of Ireland, and carried off the inhabitants into slavery. The French and Dutch mariners, it was added, were continually interrupting our trade, and taking prizes of our trading vessels, and that it was necessary to assert our right to the sovereignty of the narrow seas, which it was contended "our progenitors, kings of England, had always possessed, and that it would be very irksome to us if that princely honour in our time should be lost, or in anything diminished."

But the real cause was that Charles was at that time, 1634, engaged in the treaty with Spain to assist him against the United Provinces of Holland, on condition that Philip engaged to restore the palsgrave. Noye's scheme was highly approved and supported by the lord keeper Coventry. On the 20th of October, 1634, a writ was issued by the lords of the council, signed by the king, to the city of London, commanding it to furnish before the 1st of March next, seven ships, with all the necessary arms, stores, and tackling, and wages for the men for twenty-six weeks. One ship was to be of nine hundred tons, and to carry three hundred and fifty men; another eight hundred tons, with two hundred and sixty men; four ships of five hundred tons, with two hundred men each; and one of three hundred tons, with one hundred and fifty men. The common council and citizens humbly remonstrated against the demand as one from which they were exempt by their charters, but the council treated their objections with contempt, and compelled them to submit.

In the spring of 1635 similar writs were issued to the maritime counties, and even sent into the interior, a most unheard of demand; and instructions were forwarded to all parts, signed by Laud, Coventry, Juxton, Cottington, and the rest of the privy council, ordering the sheriffs to collect the money which was to be levied instead of ships, at the rate of three thousand three hundred pounds for every ship. They were to distrain on all who refused, and take care that no arrears were left to their successors. The demand occasioned both murmuring and resistance. The deputy-lieutenants of some inland counties wrote to the council, begging that the inhabitants might be excused this unprecedented tax; but they were speedily called before the council, and severely reprimanded. The people on the coasts of Sussex absolutely refused to pay, but they were soon forced to submit by the sheriffs.

Noye died before this took place, and squibs regarding ​him were publicly placarded, saying that his body being opened, a bundle of proclamations were found in his head, worm eaten records in his stomach, and a barrel of soap, alluding to the enforcement of the monopoly on that article, in his paunch. Thomas Carlyle has aptly styled this turn-coat lawyer, so extolled for his genius and learning by the royal party, "an amorphous, cynical law-pedant, and invincible living heap of learned rubbish." He found plenty like him to carry out his plans, farther than he ever dreamed of, or themselves either. These illegal writs returned a sum of two hundred and eighteen thousand five hundred pounds to the royal treasury.

To put an end to all murmurs or resistance, Charles determined to have the sanction of the judges, knowing that he could not have that of parliament. He therefore removed chief justice Heath on this and other accounts already noticed, and put in his place the supple Sir John Finch, lately conspicuous as speaker of the commons. The questions submitted to the judges were whether, when the good and safety of the realm demanded it, the king could not levy this ship-money, and whether he was not the proper and sole judge of the danger and the necessity. Finch canvassed his brethren of the bench individually and privately. The judges met in Serjeant's Inn on the 12th of February, 1636, when they were all perfectly unanimous except Croke and Hutton, who, however, subscribed, on the ground that the opinion of a majority settled the matter.

To obtain this opinion Charles had let the judges know through Finch, that he only required their decision for his private satisfaction; but they were startled to find their sanction immediately proclaimed by the lord keeper Coventry in the star-chamber, order given that it should be enrolled in all the courts at Westminster, and themselves required to make it known from the bench on their circuits through the country. Nor was that all, for Wentworth, now become a full-fledged agent of despotism, contended that "since it is lawful for the king to impose a tax towards the equipment of the navy, it must be equally so for the levy of an army; and the same reason which authorises him to levy an army; to resist, will authorise him to carry that any abroad, that he may prevent invasion. Moreover, what is law in England is also law in Ireland and Scotland. This decision of the judges will, therefore, make the king absolute at home, and formidable abroad. Let him," he observed, "only abstain from war a few years, that he may habituate his subjects to the payment of this tax, and in the end he will find himself more powerful and respected than any of his predecessors."

Such were the principles of Wentworth, ready on smallest concession to grant a dozen other assumptions upon it, and such the counsellors, himself and Laud, who encouraged the already too fatally despotic king to his traitorous to the nation, and preached the most absolute doctrines, and passed the most absolute sentences. Richard Chambers, the London merchant, who had already suffered so severely for resisting the king's illegal demands, also refused payment of this, and brought an action against the lord mayor for imprisoning him for his refusal. But judge Berkeley would not hear the counsel of Chambers in his defence; and afterwards, in his charge to the grand jury at York, described ship money as the inseparable flower of the crown. Put they were not so easily to override the rights of the people of England. There were numbers of stout hearts only waiting a fitting opportunity to unite and crash the spirit of despotism now growing so rampant. One of the most distinguished of these patriots was John Hampden, a gentleman of Buckinghamshire, whose name has become a world-wide synonyms for sturdy constitutional independence.

Hampden was distinguished alike for his ancient descent—tracing in a clear direct line from the Saxon period—for his great estate, and his mild and courteous manners. He was the last man to all appearance who would assume the character of a demagogue or vehement reformer. Put under this gentle exterior, and a great love of literature and retirement, he bore a mind of singular sagacity, glowing with the light and fervour of the ancient champions and historians of liberty, of sensitive perception of the approaches of tyranny, and a conscience which forbade him alike to co-operate with any attempts against the just rights of others, or to suffer their diminution by a weak compliance.

He was born in 1594, and his father dying in his childhood, he came early into his estates. He was a student at Oxford when Laud was master of St. John's, and he afterwards studied law in the Inner Temple. Whilst he was a mere youth, his mother was very anxious that he should take advantage of king James's creation of peerages to become a lord; but he had the good sense steadily to decline honours given as the wages of court slavery, or sold to the highest bidder. He entered parliament in 1621, at the same time with Wentworth, who for awhile was equally ranged on the side of liberty, and a much more forward and noisy champion of it than himself. In 1621, when Charles was illegally levying his forced loan, Hampden refused to contribute. He had during each successive parliament firmly supported the efforts of the patriots In the house—Pym, Selden, Elliot, and the rest, and he now declared that "he could be content to lend like others, but he feared to draw upon himself that curse in Magna Charta which should be read twice a year against those who infringe it." He was sent prisoner to the Gate House, and thence released, but ordered to confine himself to one of his manor-houses in Hampshire. He had, however, in parliament borne a decided share in the determined opposition to the king's proceedings, along with Selden, Elliot, Pyra, St. John, Croke, and others. After the defection of Wentworth, Noye, Finch, and others, Hampden became still more prominent in his public support of the patriotic opposition. Amid the fierce bigotry of those dauntless but intolerant men, he was almost the only one who had arrived at the true idea of Christianity, that it was a tolerant and forbearing religion, allowing to others the destruction. The judges were, for the most part, equally same freedom of conscience that he claimed for himself, He was greatly annoyed at the religious acrimony which prevailed, and declared that he would renounce the church of England on the spot "if it obliged him to belive that any other Christians should be damned; and that nobody would conclude another man to be damned who did not wish him so."

In 1634, Hampden having lost his wife, to whom he was ​much, attached, became additionally serious and religious, and at the same time devoted himself more sedulously to his public duties. He determined not only to resist the payment of ship-money, but to try the question, so as to make far and wide its illegality known. He consulted his legal friends, Holborne, St. John, Whitelock, and others, on the best means of dealing with it, and encouraged by his example, thirty freeholders of his parish of Great Kimble, in Buckinghamshire, also refused payment. No sooner, therefore, had Charles obtained the opinion of the judges, than he determined to proceed against Hampden in the court of Exchequer. The case was conducted for the crown by the attorney-general. Sir John Banks, and the solicitor-general. Sir Edward Littleton. The sum at which Hampden was assessed was only twenty shillings: the trial lasted for twelve days before the twelve judges, that is, from the 6th to the 18th of December, 1637.

It was argued on the part of the crown that the practice was sanctioned by the annual tax of Dane-gelt, imposed by the Saxons; by former monarchs having pressed ships into their service, and compelled the maritime counties to equip them; that the claim on the part of the king was most reasonable and patriotic, for if he did not exercise this right of the crown, in cases of danger, before the parliament could be assembled serious damage might accrue. The crown lawyers ridiculed the refusal of a man of Mr. Hampden's great estates to pay so paltry a sum as twenty shillings; and declared that the sheriff of Bucks ought to be fined for not putting upon him twenty pounds. But it was replied upon the part of Hampden, that the amount of the assessment was not in question, it was the principle of it. That the Dane-gelt could give no evidence in the case, the imperfect accounts to be drawn on the subject from our ancient writers being too vague and uncertain. Nor could the practice of any monarch before or after Magna Charta, establish any law on the subject, for Magna Charta abrogated any arbitrary customs that had gone before, and strictly and clearly forbade them afterwards. That no breach of that great charter could be pleaded against it, for it was paramount and perpetual in its authority. That various statutes since, and last of all the Petition of Right, assented to by the king himself, made any such taxation without consent of parliament illegal and void. That the very asking of loans and benevolences of different monarchs was sufficient proof of this, for if they had the right to tax, they would have taxed, and not borrowed. That the most arbitrary prince that ever sate on the English throne, Henry VIII., when he had borrowed, and was not disposed to repay, did not consider his own fiat sufficient to cancel the debt, but called in parliament to release him from the obligation. They reminded the judges of the great Edward I.'s confirmation of the charters, and of the statute De Talllagio non concedendo. As to the plea of imminent danger from foreign invasion, as in the case of the great Armada, as the crown lawyers had instanced, such cases, they argued, were next to impossible; notices of danger, as in the case of the Armada itself, being obtained in almost every instance in ample time to call together parliament. That in this case, there was no urgency whatever to prevent the summoning of a parliament; for neither the insolence of a few Turkish pirates, nor even the threats of neighbouring states were of consequence enough to warrant the forestalling of the constitutional functions of parliament.

The crown lawyers, baffled by this unanswerable statement, then unblushingly took their stand on the doctrine that the king was bound by no laws, but all laws proceeded from the grace of the king, and that this was a right which all monarchs had reserved from time immemorial. It was a pitiful sight to see men to whom the nation looked for the sound and faithful maintenance of the constitution,—namely, the judges, following in this outrageous course, and echoing the barefaced violation of common sense uttered by the attorney and solicitor general; as if king John had made any reservation from the sweeping clauses of Magna Charta, which was wrung from him; or as if it were not in the knowledge of all men that Charles himself had assented fully and unequivocally to the very fact which they were denying. Justice Crawley declared that the right of such arbitrary impositions resided ipso facto in the king as king, that you could not have a king without these rights, no, not by act of parliament. "The law," said judge Berkeley, "knows no such king-yoking policy. The law is an old and trusty servant of the king's; it is his instrument or means which he useth to govern his people by. I never read or heard that Lex was Rex, but it is common and most true that Rex is Lex." The pliable Finch, who did not need anybody to sit on his skirts here, as they had done when he was speaker of the commons, said, "Acts of parliament are void to bind the king not to command the subjects, their persons, and goods, and, I say, their money, too, for no acts of parliament make any difference." Certainly they made no difference to him, and if these base lawyers could have talked away the rights of the people of England, they would have done it for their own selfish interests. When Holborne contended that it was not only for themselves, but for posterity, that they were bound to preserve the constitution intact, Finch testily exclaimed—"It belongs not to the bar to talk of future governments; it is not agreeable to duty to have you bandy what is the hope of succeeding princes, when the king hath a blessed issue so hopeful to succeed him in his crown and virtues." But Holborne replied, "My lord, for that whereof I speak, I look far off—many ages off; five hundred years hence I "

But all the judges were not of that stamp; Hutton and Croke, who had dissented when the opinion of the judges was first taken, now made a bold stand against the illegal practice. As the ruin of a judge who thus dared to act in upright independence, was pretty certain at that time, we may estimate the degree of virtue necessary to such decision, and the noble self-sacrifice of lady Croke, who bade her husband give no thought to the consequences of discharging his duty, for that she would be content to suffer want, or any misery with him, rather than he should do or say anything against his judgment and conscience.

The case was not decided till the Trinity Term, the third term from the commencement of the trial, when, on the 12th of June, 1638, judgement was entered against Hampden in the Court of Exchequer. But even then five of the judges had the courage to decide for Hampden, though three of them did this only on technical grounds, conceding the ​main and vital question. These were Brampton, chief justice of the King's Bench, Davenport, chief baron of the exchequer, and Durham, also an exchequer judge. Hutton and Croke pronounced decidedly against the right of the king to impose ship-money. The seven judges who pronounced for the destruction of the liberties of the nation, and whose names ought to he preserved, were Finch, chief justice of the Common Pleas, Jones, Berkeley, Vernon, Crawley, Trevor, and Weston.

The decision of this most important trial was apparently in favour of the king, and there was, accordingly, much triumphing at court; but in reality, it was in favour of the people, for it had been so long before the public, and the arguments of Hampden's counsel were so undeniable, those of the crown so absolutely untenable, and opposed to all the history of the nation, that the matter was everywhere discussed, and men's opinions made up that, without a positive resistance to such claims and such doctrines as had here been advanced, the country was a place of serfdom, and the blood-shed and the labour of all past patriots had been in vain. It was accordingly found that people were more averse than ever to pay these demands; and even the courtly Clarendon confesses that "the pressure was borne with much more cheerfulness before the judgment for the king than ever it was after." Lord Say made a determined stand against it in Warwickshire, and would fain have brought on another trial like that of John Hampden; but the king would not allow another damaging experiment; and events came crowding after it of such a nature, as showed how deep the matter had sunk into the public mind.

The course which matters were taking was exceedingly disgusting to the Gog and Magog of despotism. Land and Wentworth. The latter had been appointed lord president of the north, where he had ruled with all the overbearing self-will of a king. The council of the north had been appointed by Henry VIII., to try and punish the insurgents concerned in the Pilgrimage of Grace, and it had been continued ever since on as lawless a basis as that of the star-chamber itself. In fact, it was the star-chamber of the five most northern counties of England, summoning and judging the subjects without any jury, but at the will of the council itself. Wentworth had risen on his apostacy from a simple baronet to be privy councillor, baron and viscount, and president of the north, with more rapidity than Buckingham himself had done. On accepting this last office, his power and jurisdiction were enlarged, and he displayed such an unflinching spirit in exercising the most despotic will, that on difficulties arising in Ireland, he was, without resigning his presidency of the north, transferred thither, where Charles had resolved to introduce the same subjection to his sole will as in England and Scotland.

When the unfortunate expedition to Cadiz had been made, and the king feared the Spaniards would retaliate by making a descent on Ireland, he ordered the lord deputy, lord Falkland, to raise the Irish army to five thousand foot and five hundred horse. There was no great difficulty in that, but the question how they were to be maintained was not so easy. Lord Falkland, who was one of the most honourable and conscientious of men, called together the great landed proprietors, and submitted the matter to their judgment. These, who were chiefly catholics, offered to advance the necessary funds on condition that certain concessions should be made to the people of Ireland. These were, that, besides the removal of many minor grievances, the recusants should be allowed to practise in the courts of law, and to sue the livery of their lands out of the court of wards on then taking the oath of allegiance without that of supremacy. That the undertakers should on the several plantations have time to fulfil the conditions of their leases. That the claims of the crown should be confined to the last, sixty years, the inhabitants of Connaught being allowed a new enrolment of their estates; and finally, that a parliament should be held, to confirm these graces, as they were called.

Delegates were sent to London to lay these proposals before the king, and on the agreement to pay one hundred and twenty thousand pounds by instalments in three years, Charles readily granted these articles of grace, amounting to fifty-one. But meantime, a number of these concessions having got out, the Irish established church had made a great opposition, and though the parliament was called, nothing was done, nor did Charles intend to do more than get the money. As lord Falkland was the last man in the world to be a party to anything so dishonourable, he was recalled, and Wentworth was sent over, in the July of 1632, to do the dirty work.

Wentworth's arrival in Leland was tantamount to a revolution there, he introduced all the regulations of the English court at the castle, assumed a guard like the king, which no deputy before him had done, and carried himself with a haughty demeanour which made the Irish lords stand amazed. The only good which he effected was in putting down the multitude of minor tyrants, but then he combined all their tyranny and oppressions in himself. He was ready to bear any amount of odium, because he trusted to the king's support, and thus Charles liked well enough, as it removed the odium from himself The great object was to raise a large permanent revenue, and Wentworth soon informed Charles that if this was to be done, there must be an end to making large grants to needy English nobles, who absorbed that which should flow to the crown. Charles had promised such grants to the duke of Lennox, the earl of Arundel, and others but on learning Wentworth's views, secretary Windebank wrote, at the king's command, that Wentworth was at liberty to refuse them these grants, so that he took "the refusing part" on himself. Of that Wentworth made no difficulty, not foreseeing that he would in time accumulate such an amount of hatred thereby, as would prove his destruction.

As a first measure to raise money, he informed Charles that it would be necessary to call a parliament. The king, who had found parliaments too much for him, and was endeavouring to live without them, heard the proposal with consternation, and warned "Wentworth against such an attempt; but the lord deputy informed him that he had a plan by which he could manage them, and Charles wrote to him, consenting, but still warning. "As for that hydra, take good heed, for you know that here I have found it as well cunning as malicious. It is true that your grounds are well laid, and I assure you that I have a great trust in your ​care and judgment; yet my opinion is, that it will not be the worse for my service though their obstinacy make you to break them, for I fear they have some ground to demand more than it is fit for me to give."

Wentworth knew that very well, but meant to grant nothing of the kind. He sent out a hundred letters of recommendation in favour of the return of candidates on whom he could rely, and procured a royal order for the absent peers to send blank proxies, which he might fill up as he pleased. Those were considerable in number, and consisted chiefly of Englishmen who had obtained their estates or titles from Charles or his father. Thus he secured a majority; and on opening parliament he informed the members that he meant to hold two sessions—one for the benefit of the king, the other for redressing the grievances of the people. Had the Irish noticed what had been going forward in England, they would have augured no good from such an arrangement, and might have followed the example of the English commons, who would always insist on stating their grievances before parting with their money. But the unfortunate Irish listened to the glowing tones of the lord deputy, who assured them that if they put their trust in him and the king, they would have the happiest parliament that had ever sate in that kingdom. He talked of the misfortunes which had happened to the English parliament through distrusting the king—he himself having been one of the chief actors in these distrusts—and assuring them that he was anxious to hasten to the second session and the removal of all then complaints, they voted him six subsidies of larger amount than had ever been granted before.

But when they came to the second session, awful was the astonishment, and terrible the consternation, of the liberal granters of subsidies. The shameless trickster coolly informed them that of the fifty-one graces promised them by the king, very few were of a kind which he who knew the circumstances of the country, could grant. In vain they ​reminded him of his promises, and called on him to fulfil, them: he now flashed out upon them like Satan starting up from his feigned shape at the touch of Ithuriel's spear. He gave them menaces instead of promises, launched at them the most biting sarcasms, the most injurious language, and made them appear a set of criminals rather than deceived and insulted legislators. His majority carried everything as he pleased, and after passing a few of the most insignificant of the graces, the bulk of them, containing all the important ones, he negatived, and dismissed the parliament.

He had been equally successful with the convocation. He obtained from it eight subsidies of three thousand pounds each, but he then refused to grant the conditions promised. It was the settled plan of the king, supported by Laud, to conform both the Scotch and Irish churches to the English, and Wentworth; as the most unscrupulous agent in such a work that they could have. The Irish prelates informed him that their church was wholly independent of that of England, had its own articles, of the Calvinistic class, and owed no obedience to the see of Canterbury. He insisted, however, that they must admit the thirty-nine articles of England; it was not necessary to parade them prominently before the people, but they must be admitted, and the old Irish articles might quietly die out. The prelates set about to frame a new code of ecclesiastical discipline; but to his surprise, he learned that they had rejected the English articles and retained their own. He sent for the archbishop and the committee, upbraided the chairman with ​suffering such a proceeding, took possession of the minutes, and ordered archbishop Usher himself to frame a canon authorising the English articles. Usher's production, however, did not satisfy him; he therefore drew up a form himself, and sent it to the convocation, commanding that no debate should take place, but the articles should be at once adopted, and informing them that every one's vote should be reported to him. Only one member of the whole convocation dared to vote against his will; the rest submitted, but with the utmost indignation.

Having thus with a high hand carried his measures—refused the confirmation of the graces, conformed the Irish to the English church in one session, and obtained such an amount of money as would not only pay off the debts of the crown, but would supply for some years the extraordinary demands of the government, he wrote exultingly to England, declaring that the king was as absolute in Ireland as any king in the world, and might be the same in England if they did their duty there. He boldly demanded an earl's coronet, on account of these services, which, however, Charles deferred for awhile, thinking that he should hold such a man to his work rather by the hope than he possession of high preferment. Wentworth was so delighted with his overriding the Irish parliament, that he proposed to the king to merely prorogue and not dissolve it, as being the most convenient instrument for effecting his further designs on the country. But Charles would not listen to it, remarking that parliaments were like cats, they ever grew cursed with age. and it was better to put an end to them easily, young ones being most tractable. He thanked him for what he had done, and especially for saving him from the odium of breaking his promise about the graces.

How little did this bold bad man see that, whilst he was serving the king's worst purposes, he was preparing his own destruction. In fact, though he had stunned the Irish for a moment by the audacity of his bearing, he had struck deep into their souls a resentment that no man, however powerful or subtle, could withstand. He was, however, only on the threshold of the sweeping changes that he contemplated in that country, for he was resolved to reduce it to a condition of absolute dependence on the crown. He was not content with forcing the English articles on the Irish church, but he refused to the catholics every relief that Charles had pledged himself to in order to get their money. Instead of abolishing, as promised, the oppressive power of the court of wards, he gave them a more virulent activity. The catholic heir was still obliged to sue out the livery of his lands, and before he could obtain them, to take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy. To obtain his rightful property, he was thus compelled to abjure his religion. But he entertained a still more gigantic design, which was to seize on the fee-simple of the greater part of Ireland, on pretence of defective title.

We have seen that in the reigns of Elizabeth and James the titles of the great landed proprietors both in Connaught and Ulster had been called in question, and those monarchs had pretended to renew them on condition of certain payments. These conditions had been repeatedly fulfilled by the proprietors, but not by the crown. Charles, in 1628, amongst the other benefits promised, had engaged to ratify these titles; but Wentworth showed him the folly of doing that, whilst by alarming them on that head, he might draw immense sums from them, or get possession of the lands. To this detestable proposal Charles consented, and the experiment was begun with Connaught. Wentworth proceeded at the head of a commission, to hold an inquisition in every county of Connaught. He opened his proceedings at Roscommon, where he summoned a jury of "gentlemen of the best estates and understandings," that more weight might attach to then decisions, if favourable, or if adverse, he might levy heavy fines upon them. He assured the jury that his majesty merely meant to ascertain the condition of all titles, that if defective he might graciously render them legal. It was on this plea that the freeholders had been wheedled into the surrender of their deeds and patents beforetime by Elizabeth and James; but Wentworth added another alarming fiction. He contended that Henry III., reserving only five cantreds to himself, had given the remainder to Richard de Burgo, to beholden of him and his heirs of the crown, and that those tenures had now descended to the present king, by the marriage of the heirs of de Burgo with the royal line. According to this the king was the rightful owner of every acre of land in Ireland. He assured the jury, therefore, that it was their best interest to give a general verdict for the king, as he could without their consent establish his right, and if compelled to do that in opposition to them, the result must be much worse for them. By these means he induced the juries in Roscommon, Sligo, Mayo, Clare, and Limerick, to return a verdict in favour of the crown, but the people of Galway stoutly resisted. They declared that the title of the king, though Edward IV., from Richard de Burgo, could not be proved; there was a hiatus in the genealogy. They were all catholics, and were the more resolute from having been so shamefully deluded in the matter of wardship. Wentworth was rather glad to be able to make an example of them, and he therefore fined the sheriff one thousand pounds for returning so obstinate and perverse a jury, and dragged the jury into his star-chamber, the chamber of the castle, and fined them four thousand pounds a-piece. He fell with especial vindictiveness on the old earl of Clanricarde, and other great landowners of Galway, and set about to seize the fort of Galway, march a body of troops into the country, and compel it to submit to the king's will. The proprietors, incredulous that the king could know of or sanction such infamous breaches of faith and acts of oppression, sent over a deputation to Charles to lay the matter before him. But the king received them with reproaches, declared his full approval of the proceedings of the lord deputy, and sent them back to Ireland as state prisoners. The old earl of Clanricarde, whose son had been the bead of the deputation, died soon after receiving the news of this shameful conduct of the monarch, and Wentworth wrote to Charles that he was accused of being the cause of his death. "They might as well," he added, haughtily., "impolite to me the crime of his being three score and ten." He was still busily pursing other noblemen with the same rancour, the earl of Cork, lord Wilmot, and others, when the catholic party in England, who had a friend in queen Henrietta, made their ​complaints heard at Whitehall. Laud, who was acting as outrageously himself in England, informed Wentworth of it, and even hinted more caution, observing that if he could find a way to do all those great services without raising so many storms, it would be excellently well thought of. But Wentworth was as little disposed to avoid storms as his adviser himself, he proceeded in the same autocratic style both towards the public and individuals. It had been the original intention to return to the proprietors three-fourths of their lands, and retain one-fourth for the crown, amounting to about one hundred and twenty thousand acres, which were to be planted with Englishmen, on condition of yielding a large annual income to the crown. But now it was resolved to retain a full half of Galway as a punishment of its obstinacy, and Wentworth was proceeding with the necessary measurements, when his career proved at an end.

The individual acts of injustice which he perpetrated, were done at the suggestion of his profligate desires or personal revenge, with the most unabashed hardihood. He had seduced the daughter of Loftus, the lord chancellor of Ireland, wife of Sir John Gifford, and wanted to confer a good post on her relative. Sir Adam Loftus. Such an opportunity soon occurred by an inadvertent expression of lord Mountmorris, vice-treasurer of Ireland. It happened one day that Annesley, a lieutenant in the army, accidentally set a stool on the foot of the lord deputy, when he was suffering from the gout. This lieutenant Annesley had some time before been carried in a paroxysm ​of passion lay Wentworth, and Mountnorris hearing the incident of the stool mentioned at the table of chancellor Loftus, said—"Perhaps Annesley did it as his revenge, but he has a brother who would not have taken such a revenge." This being repeated to Wentworth, he treated the observation as a suggestion to Annesley to perpetrate a more bloody revenge; and though he dissembled his resentment for some time, he then accused Mountnorris, who "was also an officer in the army, of mutiny, founded on this expression. Wentworth attended the court-martial to over-awe its proceedings, and obtained a sentence of death against Mountnorris The sentence was too atrocious to be carried into execution, but it served Wentworth's purpose, who cashiered Mountnorris, and gave his office to Loftus. Much as the Irish had suffered before, this most Lawless act excited a loud murmur of indignation throughout Ireland; but Wentworth had secured himself from any censure from the king by handing him six thousand pounds as the price of the transfer of Mountnorris's treasurership to Sir Adam Loftus.

The tyrannies of Laud in England, and of Wentworth in Ireland, were now fast driving the more independent and religious people to New England. The trial of John Hampden had now taken place in London, and Wentworth, in the insolence of his success in Ireland, had written to Laud, recommending that the great patriot should be whipped like Prynne and Lilburne. "Sir. Hampden," he wrote, "is a great brother (meaning puritan), and the very genius of that nation of people leads them always to oppose, both civilly and ecclesiastically, all that ever authority ordains for them. But, in good faith, were they rightly served, they should be whipped hence into their right wits; and much beholden they should be to any that would thoroughly take pains with them in that sort."

Not even Charles and Laud, however, were daring enough to apply the whip to the back of the great English patriot; and though Hampden, his kinsman Oliver Cromwell, and Haselrig, contemplated emigrating to America, in a great scheme set on foot by the lords Say and Brook, they remained to see the heads of the champions of the "thorough" fall, and that of the king after them.

The resentment of the Irish was becoming so strong against Wentworth, that the king thought it safest for him to come to England for a time; but so soon returned thither, with the additional favour of the monarch, where he remained till summoned by Charles to assist him by his counsels against the Scotch. But the fatal year 1640 was at hand, to close the story of his tyrannies. We must now retrace our steps, and bring up the conflicts of Scotland with the same blind and determined despots to that period.

The storm against the despotism of Charles had broken out in that country. From the moment of his visit to Edinburgh with his great apostle Laud, he had never ceased pushing forward his scheme of conforming the presbyterian church to Anglican episcopacy. He had restored the bishops on that occasion, given them lands, erected deans and chapters, and Laud had consecrated the High Church as a cathedral. As he could not persuade the Scottish peers to submit to the liturgy as used in England, which his father had attempted in vain before him, he consented that a liturgy should be drawn up by four Scottish bishops, who were also to frame a code of ecclesiastical canons. They were to introduce into the latter some of the acts of the Scottish assemblies, and some more ancient canons, to make the whole more palatable. These laws and the liturgy were afterwards revised by the archbishop of Canterbury, and the bishops of London and Norwich, and Charles ordered the amended copies to be published and observed.

None but a monarch so foolhardy as Charles, would have dared such an experiment on the Scotch, who had resisted so stoutly his father, and had driven his grandmother from the country for her adhesion to popery. The people received the publication of the canon with unequivocal indications of their temper; and when, therefore, the first introduction of the liturgy was fixed for the 23rd of July, 1637, at the High Church, they went thither in crowds, to give a characteristic reception. The archbishops and bishops, the lords of session, and the magistrates went in procession, and appeared there in all their official splendour. This display, however, so far from imposing on the people of Edinburgh, only excited their wrath and contempt, as the trumpery finery of the woman of Babylon.

No sooner had the dean ascended the reading-desk and began to read the collect for the day, than there was a burst of rage and indignation which must have been startling. The women of all ranks were most conspicuous in their demonstrations of disgust. They assailed the dean with the most opprobrious epithets, crying, "The mass has entered! Baal is in the church!" The dean was styled "a thief, a devil's gett, and of a witche's breeding." The noise and confusion were indescribable.

Amongst the women seated about the pulpit, or even on its steps, as you still see in Scotch churches, was a stout masculine dame, the keeper of a vegetable stall at the Tron Kirk, named Janet, or Jenny Geddes. Hearing a man repeat "Amen!" close behind her, she turned round, and cuffing his eare with both her hands, exclaimed—"Out, false thief, is there na ither pairt of the churche to sing mass in, but thou must sing it at my lugge."

The noise and riot increasing, the bishop who was to preach that day hastened up into the pulpit, over the head of the dean in the reading-desk, and entreated the people to listen to the collect. "Diel colic the wame o' thee!" cried Jenny Geddes, or "the devil send the colic into thy stomach," mistaking the strange word "collect" for that painful disorder; and with that she flung her joint stool with all her might at the bishop's head. A man near her diverted the course of the missile by trying to seize her arm, or, it was the opinion of those who saw it, the bishop had been a dead man. It swung on, however, past his ear with an ominous sweep, and was followed by the most frightful yells, and a shower of other heavy stools and clasped Bibles, sticks and stones, that speedily caused the evacuation of the pulpit. The bishop was followed in his descent from it by the cries of "Fox, wolf, and belly-god," for he was a very fat man.

The archbishop of St. Andrews, who was also lord chancellor, and some of the nobles having tried in vain to restore order, the magistrates rushed forward to the rescue, and by the aid of constables and beadles, the most prominent rioters were thrust out of the church, and the doors locked. The bishop ​then went on with the service, but it was amid the wildest cries both from without and within, of "A pape! a pape! Antichrist! stane him! pull him down!" The windows were smashed in by a hail of stones and dirt, and at the conclusion of the service there was a rush forth of the congregation, to get every one to his own home in safety. The chief object of the crowd's attention was the bishop, who was trying to escape to his lodgings in the High-street, but he was seized, thrown down, and dragged through the mud. "Neither," says Sir James Balfour, "could that lubberly monster, with his satine gown, defend himself by his swollen hands and greasy belly, but he had half-a-dissenneck fishes to a reckoning."

The same morning similar scenes had taken place in the other churches, and the bishop of Argyle had been driven from the pulpit of Grey Friars' Church. In the afternoon the service was read, but to empty churches, for the baillies of Edinburgh had been summoned before the privy council, and called upon to see order maintained. The service was therefore read with the doors locked, but the riot in the streets when it was over was worse than ever. The mob pursued the carriages of the nobles who took home the bishops with yells and stones; the women were like viragoes, urging on the men and showing the way; and the earl of Roxburgh, lord privy seal, who was driving home the bishop from St. Giles's, was so pelted with stones, the mob crying.

"Drag out the priest of Baal," that he ordered his attendants to draw their swords and defend them; but the women cared nothing for their weapons, but pursued the carriage with stones till they escaped into Holyrood, covered with mud and bruises. The same spirit manifested itself everywhere. Jenny Geddes became a national heroine, which she yet remains, Robert Burns calling his mare after her that he rode into the Highlands. In Glasgow about the same time one William Allan, in a sermon, having spoken in praise of "the buke," that is, of the common prayer, no sooner was he out in the street than hundreds of enraged women surrounded him and the other clergymen with him, assailed him with sticks, fists, and peats, and belaboured him sorely. They tore off his cloak, ruff, and hat, and went near to killing him.

At Edinburgh the following day the council issued an order denouncing any further riots, but suspended the further reading of the service on account of the danger to the clergy, till they received further instructions from his majesty. But all warnings were wasted on such a man as Charles. He appeared to go on his way sealed, bound, and blinded to his doom. The more a broad and calculating intellect would have recognised the danger, the more his bull-dog antagonism was aroused. Laud, at his command, wrote a sharp letter, snubbing the council for suspending the reading of the service, and expressing his astonishment that the Scotch should refuse their own work. This was because four Scotch bishops had been pliant enough to frame the liturgy in part; but the Scotch people disclaimed the act of the royally imposed bishops, as much as they disclaimed Laud and his doings themselves. The king commanded lord Traquair, the lord treasurer of Scotland, to enforce the service, and not to give way to the insolence of the baser multitude.

But it was not merely the base multitude, the nobility were as violent against the new liturgy as the people, and came to high words with the bishops and their favourers amongst the clergy. Four ministers, Alexander Henderson, of Leuchars, John Hamilton, of Newburn, James Bruce, of Kingsbarns, and another, petitioned the council on the 23rd of August, to give them time to show the anti-christian and idolatrous nature of this ritual, and how near it came to the popish mass, reminding them that the people of Scotland had established the independence of their own church at the reformation, which had been confirmed by parliament and general assemblies, and that the people, instructed in their religion from the pulpit, were not likely to adopt that which their fathers had rejected as contrary to the simplicity of the gospel. But the bishop of Ross, Laud's right-hand man, replied for the council that the liturgy was neither superstitious nor idolatrous, but according to the formula of the ancient churches, and they must submit to that or to "horning," that is, banishment. Still the council delayed, and the people were pretty quiet during the harvest time, but that over, the news having arrived of a peremptory message from the king, commanding the enforcement of the liturgy, and the removal of the council from Edinburgh to Linhthgow, thence in the following term to Stirling, and for the next to Dundee, the people flocked into Edinburgh; and incensed at the idea of their ancient capital being deprived of its honours as the seat of government, they became extremely irritated, attacked the bishops when they could see them, and nearly tore the clothes from the back of the bishop of Galway. He escapaed into the council-house, and the members of the council in their turn sent to demand protection from the magistrates, who could not even protect themselves.

For greater security the council removed to Dalkeith, and the marquis of Hamilton recommended to Charles to make some concessions; but far from giving way, a more positive order for the enforcement of the obnoxious liturgy arrived from the king. But it was found impossible to enforce it: the earl of Traquair was summoned up to London, and sharply questioned as to the causes of the delay and was sent back with more arbitrary commands. On the 18th of October these were made known, and fresh riots took place, Traquair and two of the bishops nearly losing their lives. The king then consented to the petitioners above-mentioned being represented by a deputation personally resident in Edinburgh. The object was to induce the crowds of strangers to withdraw to their homes, when it was thought the people of Edinburgh alone might be better dealt with; but the advocates of the people seized on the plan, and converted it into one of the most powerful engines of opposition imaginable.

At the head of these able politicians, and the contrivers of this profoundly sagacious scheme, were the lords Rothes, Balmerino, Lindsay, Lothian, Loudon, Yester, and Craustoun. Balmerino had been severely treated by Charles, and had thus become hardened into the most positive opponent of the episcopal movement. In his possession in 1634. was a copy of a petition to the Scottish parliament, too strong in its language even for the Scotch dissentients to present. He had under pledge of strictest secrecy lent ​this to a friend. For this he was committed to prison, and at the instigation of Spottiswoode, archbishop of St. Andrews, it was resolved to prosecute him for high treason, and a verdict was procured against him.

But the people were so enraged, that they assembled in vast crowds, vowing to murder both the jurors who had given the verdict, and the judges who had accepted it. Government was alarmed, and the king was reluctantly induced to grant Balmerino a pardon. From that moment he became the champion of the people.

He and his colleagues the nobles, the gentry, the presbyterian clergy, and the inhabitants of the burghs, formed themselves into four "tables," or committees, each of four persons, and each table sent a representative to a fifth table, a committee of superintendence and government.

Thus in the capital there were sitting five tables, or committees, to receive all complaints and information from the people, and decide on all these matters. Throughout the country were speedily established similar tables, with whom they corresponded. Thus, instead of that mere representation of the petitioners which the king contemplated as an expedient for getting rid of the immediate pressure of the people, one of the most perfect and most powerful systems of popular agitation was organised that the world had ever seen. There was the most instant attention to the suggestions of the people by the provincial tables, and the most ​

​prompt and respectful consideration of their reports by the tables in the capital, A permanent government of the people was, in fact, erected, to which the public looked with the utmost confidence, and by which step its whole weight was brought to bear on the unpopular government of the king.

The formidable nature of this novel engine of the popular will was quickly perceived by the court; and Traquair was ordered to issue a proclamation, declaring the Tables to be unlawful, commanding all people to withdraw to their own homes, and menacing the penalties of treason against all who disobeyed. This proclamation was made by Traquair at Stirling, on the 19th of February, 1638; but it was disregarded. The Tables had procured early information of the forthcoming proclamation, and had summoned the provincial Tables from all parts to assemble in Edinburgh and Stirling. These cities were thus crowded with the very life and soul of the whole agitation. They had already risen in their demands as they perceived their strength, and had ceased to petition for time, and some trifling alterations in "the buke." They demanded the formal revocation of the liturgy, the canons, and the Court of High Commission. Now, no sooner had the herald read the royal proclamation, than the lords Hume and Lindsay read a counter proclamation, saw it affixed to the market-cross, and copies sent to Edinburgh and Linlithgow, to be read and publicly placarded there.

Traquair, who had clearly foreseen these consequences, and in vain warned the king to avoid them by timely concession, wrote to Hamilton, informing him of what had taken place, and that there was no power in the kingdom capable of forcing the liturgy down the people's throats; that they would receive the mass as soon. His words received a speedy confirmation. The Tables determined to publish a solemn covenant betwixt the people and the Almighty to stand by their religion to the death. Their fathers, at the time of the reformation, had adopted such an instrument. The great nobles of the time had sworn to maintain the principles of Wishart and Knox, and to defend the preachers of those doctrines against the powers of antichrist and the monarchy. James and Charles himself had sworn to adhere to this confession of faith, with all their households and all classes of people, in the years 1580, 1581, and 1590. The name of covenant was thus become a watchword to the whole nation, which roused them like a trumpet. This document had been composed by Alexander Henderson, one of the four ministers who had petitioned, and Archibald Johnstone, an advocate, the great legal adviser of the party, and revised by Balmerino, Loudon, and Rothas.

This famous document began by a clear exposition of the tenets of the reformed Scottish church, and as solemn an abjuration of all the errors and damnable doctrines of the pope, with his "vain allegories, rites, signs, and traditions." it enumerated the antichristian tenets of popery: the denial of salvation to infants dying without baptism; the receiving the sacrament from men of scandalous lives; the devilish mass; the canonisation of men; calling on saints departed; worshipping of imaginary relics and crosses; speaking and praying in a strange language; auricular confession; the shaveling monks; bloody persecutions; and a hundred other abominations. All these were made as great offences against the Anglican hierarchy, which was fast running back into those "days of bygone idolatry," The various classes, "noblemen, barons, gentlemen, burgesses, ministers, and commons," bound themselves by the covenant to defend and maintain the reformed faith before God, his angels, and the world, till it was again established by free assemblies and parliaments, in the same full purity and liberty of the Gospel as it had been heretofore.

On the 1st of March, 1638, the church of St. Giles, which, had witnessed so lately the hasty flight of the bishops, was thronged with the covenanters of all ranks and from all parts of the country. The business was opened by a fervent prayer from Henderson, and then the people were addressed in a stirring harangue by the earl of Loudon, the most eloquent man in Scotland. The effect was such that the whole assembly rose simultaneously, and with outstretched arms, amid torrents of tears, swore to the contents of the covenant. That done, they turned and embraced each other, wept, and shouted aloud their exultation over this great victory, for such they felt it, in the united energy and religious dedication of the nation.

Dispersing to their various homes, the delegates carried the fire of this grand enthusiasm with them. Over moor and mountain it flew, across the green pastoral hills of the south, through the dark defiles of the Highlands, and to the sea-swept isles. Thousands continued to pour into the capital to add their signatures to the covenant; and in every parish on the Sunday the people streamed to listen to the fiery harangues from the pulpits, and to give in their names, with the same tears, emotions, and mutual embraces as in Edinburgh. It was soon found that except in the county of Aberdeen, the covenanters outnumbered their opponents in the proportion of one hundred to one.

Nor did these determined reformers readily admit of any dissent or lukewarmness. Where they found any opposed or inert, they roused them by threats, and often by blows and coercion. Some they threw into prison, and some they set in the stocks for refusing to sign. The catholics were those who principally stood aloof; but these were not calculated at a thousand in all Scotland. Of such they entered the names in a list, and made calculations of their property, with a view to confiscation. In Lanark and other places the contending factions came to blows before the lists were filled up. Active subscriptions were levied for the maintenance of the cause, and before the end of April there was scarcely a single protestant who had not signed the covenant. The bishops had fled to England, and all Scotland stood ready to fight for its faith.

Here was a spectacle which would have shown the folly of his career to any other monarch; but all reason or representation was wasted on Charles. Traquair entreated him, before plunging into war, to listen to the counsels of his most experienced Scottish ministers; but Charles seldom listened to anything except his own self-will, or any person except his fatal counsellors. Laud and Wentworth. He is said on this occasion to have consulted with a small council of Scotchmen living in England, which had been formed by James on his accession to the English throne, and in ​accordance with their advice, and in opposition to that of the council in Scotland, he resolved on suppressing the covenant by force.

In May he sent the marquis of Hamilton to Scotland, with orders to endeavour to soothe the people by assuring them that the liturgy and canons should only be exercised in a fair and gentle manner, and that the High Commission Court should be so remodelled as to be no grievance. If these promises did not satisfy them, as Hamilton must have known they would not, for Charles's promises were too well known to be of any value, he was to resort to any exercise of force that he thought necessary.

On the 3rd of June he arrived at Berwick, and sent to the nobility to meet him at Haddington, but no one appeared except the earl of Roxburgh, who assured him that anything but a full revocation of the canons and liturgy was hopeless. On reaching Dalkeith he was waited on by lord Rothes, who, on the part of the covenanters, invited him to take up his abode in Holyrood, as more convenient for discussion.

Hamilton objected to enter a city swarming with covenanters, and where the castle was already invested by their guards. These, it was promised him, should be removed, and the city kept quiet, on which he consented; and on the 8th of June he set forward. But he found the whole of the way, from Musselburgh to Leith, and from Leith to Edinburgh, lined with covenanters, fifty thousand in number, There were from five to seven hundred clergymen collected; and all the nobility and gentry assembled in the capital, amounting to five thousand, came out to meet and escort him in. All this he was informed was to do him honour, but he felt that its real design was to impress him with the strength of the covenant party.

Being settled in Holyrood, Hamilton received a deputation of the earls of the league, and asked them what they required to induce them to surrender opposition. They replied that in the first place they demanded the summons of a general assembly and a parliament. They then renewed the guard at the castle, and doubled the guards and watches of the city. The preachers warned the people to be on their guard against propositions. They informed the marquis that no English service book must be used in the royal chapel, and they nailed up the organ as an abomination to the Lord. They then waited on him, requesting him and his officers to sign the blessed covenant, and they hoped to be regarded as patriots and Christians. The ministers whom the oppressions of Wentworth had chased out of Ulster to make way for the Anglican service were there, inflaming the people by their details of the cruelties and broken promises of Charles and his lord-lieutenant in Ireland.

Hamilton saw that it was useless to publish Charles's proclamation, but wrote, advising him to grant them their demands, or to lose no time in appearing with a powerful army. Charles replied, desiring him to amuse the covenanters with any promises that he pleased, so that he did not commit the king himself. He was to avoid granting an assembly or parliament, but he added, "Your chief end being now to win time, they may commit public follies until I be ready to suppress them." The marquis, therefore, endeavoured to spin out the time by coaxing and deluding the covenanters. He promised to call a general assembly and a parliament, and redress all their grievances. When pressed too closely, he declared that he would go to London himself and endeavour to set all right with the king, but this was part only of the plan of gaining time, whilst Charles was preparing a fleet and army. But the Scotch were too wary to be thus deceived. They had information that troops were raising in England, and they made also their preparations. At the same time they waited on the marquis professing the most unabated loyalty, but resolute to have free exercise of their religion. Hamilton promised to present their address to the king, and set out on the 4th of July for England. He informed Charles of the real state of the country, and that the very members of the privy council were so infected by the covenant that he had not dared to call them together. But Charles was not to be induced to take any effective measures for pacifying the public mind of Scotland. His instructions to the marquis were to amuse the people with hopes, and even to allow of the sitting of a general assembly, but not before the first of November. He was even to publish the order for discharging the use of the service book, the canons, and the High Commission Court, but was to forbid the abolition of bishops, though the bishops were for the present not to intrude themselves into the assembly. They were, however, to be privately held to be essentially members of the assembly, and were to be one way or other provided for till better times.

These half measures were not likely to be accepted, but they would serve Charles's grand object of gaining time, and the marquis arrived with them in Edinburgh on the 10th of August. Three days after his arrival the covenanters waited upon him to learn how the king had received their explanations, and the marquis assumed them with much grace and goodness but when they heard that the bishops were not to be abolished, they treated his other offers with contempt, and Hamilton once more proposed to journey to England, to endeavour to obtain a full and free recall of all the offensive ordinances. Before taking his leave, as a proof of his earnestness, he joined with the earls of Traquair, Roxburgh, and Southesk, in a written solicitation to his majesty to remove all innovations in religion which had disturbed the peace of the country. By the 17th of September Hamilton was again at Holyrood. On the 21st he received the covenanters, and informed them that he had succeeded; that the king gave up everything; that an assembly was to be called immediately, and a parliament in the month of May next. That the king revoked the service book, the book of canons, the five articles of Perth, and the High Commission. The delighted covenanters were about to express their unbounded satisfaction and loyal gratitude, when the marquis added that his majesty only required them to sign the old confession of faith as adopted by king James in 1580 and 1590. This single reservation broke the whole charm; their countenances fell, and they declared that they looked upon this as an artifice merely to set aside their new bond of the covenant.

In all Charles's most solemn acts the cloven foot showed itself. Even when seeming most honest, there was something which awoke a distrust in him. He was not sincere, and he had not the art to look so. In any other monarch the positive assurance that the innovations on the religion ​of Scotland should be abandoned, would have settled the matter at once but Charles had so utterly lost character for truth and good faith, that it was believed throughout the country that he was still only deluding them, and seeking time ultimately to come down resistlessly upon them. And we know from his own correspondence preserved in the Strafford Papers that it was so. These words addressed to Hamilton, "Your chief end is to win time, that they may commit public follies, until I be ready to suppress them," are an everlasting proof of it. Besides, they had ample information from friends about the court in England that this was the case, and that in a few months the king meant to visit them with an irresistible force. The people of England were suffering too much from the same species of oppression not to sympathise warmly with the Scotch patriots, and to keep them well informed of what was going on there. We find it stated in the Hardwicke State Papers that the government was very jealous of the number of people who went about England selling Scotch linen, and it was recommended to open all letters going betwixt the countries at Berwick.

The covenanters therefore determined to hold together and be prepared. On the 22nd of September, 1638, the marquis of Hamilton caused the royal proclamation to be read at the market-cross at Edinburgh, abandoning the Anglican service and the High Commission Court; but as it required subscription to the old confession of faith, there was no rejoicing on the occasion. There were two particulars in this proclamation which fully justified the Scots in refusing to comply with it. It stated that the vow of the covenant was unauthorised by government, and therefore illegal, and it professed to grant a pardon for that act to all who signed the confession, which would have acknowledged that the nation had been guilty of a crime in accepting the covenant, a thing they were not likely to admit, for in that case they could not have refused the readmission of the very liturgy against which it was at war. They therefore published a protest against it, founded on these reasons.

The marquis having obtained the signature of the lords of the secret council to the new bond, which Charles had previously signed, though it contained many clauses repugnant to Arminianism, issued the proclamation for the meeting of the assembly in Glasgow on the 21st of November, and for that of the parliament on the 17th of May next. In a few days after the lords of the council published an act discharging the book of common prayer, the book of canons, &c., and called for the subscription of all his majesty's subjects. The municipal bodies, the ministers, and the people hastened to thank the council, and to express their joy in the revocation of the obnoxious orders, but they refused to sign the confession.

The marquis wrote to Charles, informing him of the determined spirit of the people, and advising him to hasten his military preparations. He also represented to him the protests of the bishops against the holding the assembly; but the king bade him persist in holding it, so that he might not appear to break faith with the public, and thus precipitate matters, but to counteract the effect of the assembly by sowing discord amongst the members, and protesting against their tumultuary proceedings.

But the Scots did not give Hamilton much time for such, machinations before the meeting of the assembly. They were warned by a trusty correspondent—notwithstanding the waylaying of the post was carried into effect—that vigorous preparations were making to invade Scotland. There were arms for twenty thousand men, including forty pieces of ordnance, and forty carriages; but the writer did not believe they would get two hundred men for the service, such was the desire of all parties—nobles, gentry, people, for their success; which, if obtained, he said, would lead many of all ranks to settle in Scotland for freedom of conscience. He added that Wentworth had made large offers of assistance to the king from Ireland, but that the Irish were themselves so injured, that he doubted any great, help from Wentworth against them; yet if Charles could; muster sufficient force, they might expect no terms from him but such as they would get at the cannon's mouth.

At the end of October the earl of Rothes demanded from Hamilton a warrant, citing the bishops, as guilty of heresy, perjury, simony, and gross immorality, to appear before the approaching assembly. The marquis refused, on which the presbytery of Edinburgh cited them. Charles had ordered, as a sign of his favour, the restoration of the lords of session of Edinburgh, but on condition of their signing the confession of faith. Nine out of the fifteen were induced with much difficulty to sign, but from that moment they were in terror of their lives from the exasperation of the people.

When Hamilton arrived on the 17th of November in Glasgow, to open the assembly, he found the town thronged with people from all quarters, in evidently intense excitement. The Tables had secured the most popular elections of representatives to the assembly, sending one lay elder and four lay assessors from every presbytery. The marquis therefore found himself overruled on all points. In his opening speech he read them the king's letter, in which Charles complained of having been misrepresented, as though he desired innovations in laws and religion! and to prove how groundless this was, he had granted this free assembly, for settling all such matters to the satisfaction of his good subjects. He then of himself protested against the foul and devilish calumnies against his sacred majesty, purporting that even this grant of the assembly was but to gain time whilst he was preparing arms to force on the nation the abhorred ritual. The marquis, whilst he was making these solemn asseverations, being well assured, as were most of his hearers, that the king was all the while casting cannon and ball, and mustering soldiers for this "foul and devilish purpose," the assembly must have been perfectly satisfied that no good was to be expected but from their own firmness. They at once proceeded to elect Alexander Henderson as their moderator, and Hamilton protested as vigorously against it, but in vain. They next elected as clerk-register Archibald Johnstone, the clerk of the Edinburgh Tables, against which Hamilton again protested with as little effect, Johnstone declaring that he would do his best to "defend the prerogative of the Son of God."

Defeated on these important points, the marquis the next day entered a protest against the return of lay members to the assembly; and the proctor on behalf of the bishops added ​their protest, declining the authority of the assembly, which he contended ought to be purely ecclesiastical. James had, in fact, put the lay members out of the assembly, and the king therefore treated this original constitution of the assembly; as settled at the reformation, as an innovation, turning the charge of innovation on the covenanters. The marquis would then have read the protests of the bishops with which he was furnished; but the assembly declined to hear them, and repeated that they would pursue the charges against the bishops so long as they had lives and fortunes. On this Hamilton dissolved the assembly, and the same day wrote a most remarkable letter to Charles, which appears to leave little ground for the suspicions of the royal party that he was secretly inclined to the covenant. He informed the king that he had done his utmost, but to no purpose, with that rebellious nation. He seemed to apprehend danger to this life, and that this might be the last letter he should ever write to his majesty, he blamed the bishops for persuading the king to bring in the English liturgy and canons in so abrupt and violent a manner; that their pride was great, their folly greater. He gives the king his opinion of the character and degrees of the trustworthiness of the different ministers, and bids him beware of the earl of Argyle, whom he declares to be the most dangerous man in the state; so far from favouring episcopacy, as had been supposed, he wished it abolished with all his soul. This was immediately afterwards, as we shall see, made clear by Argyle himself. Hamilton then proceeded to instruct the king how best to proceed to quell what he deemed not merely a contest for religion, but an incipient rebellion. It was to blockade the ports, and thus cut off all trade, by which the burghs, the chief seats of the agitation, lived. That as fast as these burghs felt their folly, and returned to their allegiance, they should be restored to favour, and their ports opened, which could make the rest anxious to follow. That he had done is best to garrison the castle of Edinburgh, though it was in a precarious state, but that the castle of Dumbarton might be readily garrisoned by troops from Ireland. If he preserved his life, which he seemed to doubt, he would defend his post to the utmost, though "he hated the place like hell," and as soon as he was free of it, would forswear the country. He recommended his brother to the king's favour, and his children to his protection if they lived; and to these if they did not prove loyal, he left his curse. His daughters, he desired, might never marry into Scotland.

The marquis clearly saw the dreadful conflict which was approaching, and his tears and emotion on dismissing the assembly, struck every one with that impression. But the assembly had no intention of dispersing. Like the commons of England, they entertained too high an estimate of their right, and of their duty in such a crisis. They therefore passed a resolution declaring the kirk independent of the civil powers, and the dissolution of the assembly by the royal commissioner illegal and void. That if the commissioner should see fit to quit the country, and leave the church and kingdom in that disorder, it was their duty to sit; and that they would continue to sit till they had settled all the evils which came within their lawful and undoubted jurisdiction.

Laud, in reply to Hamilton, lamented that fear of giving umbrage to the covenanters too soon had too long delayed the means to crush them. He thanked him for having conveyed the bishops to Hamilton Castle to protect them, and trusted that his own life would yet be preserved from the diabolical fury of the Scots. What Hamilton had foreseen in the meantime had come to pass. The earl of Argyle declared plainly in the council that he would take the covenant and sanction the assembly. Accordingly, though not a member of it, he took his place in the assembly as their chief director; and thus encouraged, they proceeded to abolish episcopacy for ever; to deprive all the bishops, and to excomnumicate the greater part of them and all their abettors. Charles, and James before him, had completely conferred all the power of parliament on the bishops, making eight of them the lords of the articles, with authority to choose eight of the nobles, and these sixteen having power to choose all the rest, so that all depended on the bishops, and they again on the king. This effectually ranged the nobles against them. The marquis of Hamilton, notwithstanding his fears, was permitted quietly to withdraw to England, whence he was soon to return against them at the head of the fleet. The people received the news of the proceedings of the assembly with transports of joy, and celebrated the downfall of episcopacy by a day of thanksgiving. Charles, on the other hand, issued a proclamation declaring all its acts void, and hastened his preparations for marching into Scotland.

But the covenanters were not the less active on their part, and everything tended to a civil war, the result of Charles's incessant attacks on the liberties of the nation. They made collections of arms, and as early as December they received six thousand muskets from Holland. These had been stopped by the government of that country, but cardinal Richelieu had suddenly shown himself a friend, by ordering the muskets as if for his own use, receiving them into a French port, and thence forwarding them to Scotland. However impolitic it might appear for France to assist subjects against their prince, and especially when the queen of that prince was the king of France's own sister, Charles had managed to create nearly as strong a felling against him in Louis and his minister Richelieu, as in his own subjects. He had set the example by assisting the Huguenot against their prince, and had provoked France by defeating its plan of dividing the Spanish Netherlands betwixt that country and Holland. The present opportunity, therefore, was eagerly seized to make Charles feel the error he had committed. Richelieu moreover ordered the French ambassador in London to pay over to general Leslie, one of Gustavus Adolphus's old officers, who had been engaged by the assembly, one hundred thousand crowns. This last transaction, however, was kept a profound secret, for the Scotch, when advised to seek the assistance of France and Germany, had indignantly refused, saying the Lutherans of Germany were heretics, and the people of France papistical idolators; that it became them to seek support from God alone, and not from the broken reed of Egypt. The preachers thundered from the pulpits against the bishops, and the determination of the king still to force them on the country; and they refused the communion to all who had not signed the ​covenant. The Tables called on the young men in every quarter of the country to come forward and be trained to arms, and the Scottish officers who had been engaged in the wars in Germany, flocked over, and offered their services for, the support of the popular came. The nobles contributed plate to be melted down, the merchants in the towns sent in money, and an army of determined men was fast forming.

Charles, on his part, was not the less busy preparing for the campaign, and he was persuaded by many of the courtiers that he had only to appear, to pacify the Scots. If we are to believe Clarendon, the treasury was in a flourishing condition, a most unlikely circumstance, considering the impopular mode of raising funds without a parliament; and we are assured of the contrary by a letter of the earl of Northumberland, addressed to Wentworth in January, 1639. He says, "I assure your lordship, to my understanding, to my sorrow I speak it, we are altogether in as ill a posture to invade others or to defend ourselves, as we were a twelve-month since, which is more than any one can imagine that is not an eye witness of it. The discontents here at home do rather increase than lessen, there being no course taken to give any kind of satisfaction. The king's coffers were never emptier than at this time, and to us that have the honour to be near about him, no way is yet known how he will find means either to maintain or begin a war without the help of his people." Cottington wrote to Wentworth in precisely the same strain.

So far from consulting parliament, Charles had not even opened his difficulties to his council. He was now compelled to do the latter, and on this occasion Laud was found earnestly entreating for peaceful counsels. It is probable that he had taken a more rational view of the belligerent temper of the Scots, and saw more danger in the king's attempt to coerce them, than he generally discerned in pushing on arbitrary counsels. His advice was rejected, and the rest of the council acquiesced in the determination of the king. With the beginning of the year 1639, Charles had named his generals and officers, had issued orders to the lords-lieutenant to muster the trained bands of their several counties, and the nobles to meet him at York on the 1st of April, with such retinues as belonged to their rank and fortune. To procure money he suspended the payment of all pensions, borrowed where he could, and judges, lawyers, and the clergy were called upon to contribute from their salaries and livings in lieu of their personal service. The clergy were in general extremely liberal, for they considered the cause as their own, and that if the presbyterians of Scotland became triumphant, the puritans of England might attempt the same measure with the church of England. Laud, moreover, ordered the names of all clergymen who refused, to be returned to him. The queen also lent her aid, by calling on the catholics to assist, reminding them that aid given to the king in this emergency, was the most likely means to securing future advantages to themselves. When the knowledge of the queen's circular letter to the catholics became known to the puritans, they were greatly scandalised, and the catholics responding readily to the call, and holding a meeting in London, presided over by the pope's nuncio, tended to strengthen their idea of the papistical bias of Charles and his church.

​The king, on his part, sought to take advantage of the ancient antipathies betwixt the two kingdoms, and issued proclamations calling on all good subjects to resist the attempts of the Scots, who were contemplating, he asserted, the invasion and plunder of the kingdom, and the destruction of the monarchy. But he found this was an empty alarm. The reformers of England knew too well that the cause of the Scots and their own were perfectly identical; that the purpose of the king was to destroy the constitutional rights and freedom of religion in both kingdoms alike. The Scottish nobles, like the English public, rejected all attempts to divide them in this cause, There was a time when they could be bought by the money of England, which had been freely and successfully employed by the Tudors. But Charles had little money to give; and to the honour of the present Scottish peers, when other temptations were tried, for the most part the sacred cause of their religion triumphed over them. They exhorted one another to stand fast by the covenant.

The most intimate communication betwixt the Scotch and English reformers was maintained by pamphlets secretly circulated, by emissaries traversing all classes and all quarters. The earliest information of the movements of the court was transmitted, and before Charles commenced his march towards York, general Leslie, the ejected commander-in-chief, took the initiative, and surprised the castle of Edinburgh on the 21st of March, at the head of a thousand musketeers, and without losing a single man. The next day, Saturday, the castle of Dalkeith was given over by Traquair, with all the regalia and a large quantity of ammunition and arms. It was thought that Traquair had shown great timidity, to surrender so strong a castle almost without a blow; but he complained of having been left alone, without countenance or advice. The earls of Rothes and Balmerino took the castle, and conveyed the regalia safely to the castle of Edinburgh, The following day, Sunday, did not prevent even Scotchmen and covenanter from seizing the castle of Dumbarton. The governor was surprised on his return from church, and threatened with instant death if he did not surrender the keys to the provost of the town, a zealous covenanter ​covenant; and of all the royal fortresses, only Carlaverock, the least important, remained in the hands of the crown. The marquis of Huntly, who had undertaken to hold the Highlands for the king, was overpowered or entrapped by Leslie and Montrose, who at the head of seven thousand men compelled the reluctant professors of Aberdeen to accept the covenant, when Leslie returned to Edinburgh, carrying Huntly with him. The earl of Antrim, who was to have invaded the domains of Argyll from Ireland, was unable to fulfil his engagement, and thus every day brought the news of rapid disasters to Charles on his march towards York. Hamilton, who had been despatched with a fleet, appeared in the Forth on the 13th of April. He had five thousand troops on board, and was expected to secure Leith, the port of Edinburgh, and overawe if he could not take the capital; but he found the place strongly fortified, and twenty thousand men were posted on the shores to prevent his landing. All classes, from the noble to the peasant, had been labouring industriously to repair fortifications and throw up batteries, and ladies had carried materials for them. The marquis saw no chance of effecting a landing, and therefore disembarked his men on the islands in the Forth, to prevent them perishing in he ships, for they were raw landsmen, and had been hastily pressed into the service, and were both very sickly and very mutinous. No prospect was ever more discouraging; even Wentworth could not send him the small aid of five hundred musketeers in time, and strongly advised Charles to avoid coming to an engagement with his raw levies against the enthusiastic Scots and their practical generals, but to garrison Berwick and Carlisle to prevent incursions, and wait till the next year if necessary.

Charles arrived at York on the 19th of April, and proceeded to administer to the lords who there awaited him with their followers, an oath of allegiance, binding them to oppose all conspiracies and seditions even if they were veiled under the pretence of religion. The lords Say and Brooke declined to take the oath, saying they were willing to accompany their sovereign from loyalty and affection, but that as they were ignorant of the laws and customs of Scotland, they could not undertake to say that the Scots were Bebels, or the war was just. Charles with indignation ordered them to be arrested, but the attorney and solicitor generals on being consulted, declaring that there was no ground for their prosecution, they were dismissed with the royal displeasure, and desired to return home. Nor had the king much more satisfaction with the lords who had taken the oath, for they qualified it by signing a paper, stating in what sense they took it. To perform an act calculated to please the people whom he was leaving behind, at York he issued a proclamation, revoking no less than thirty-one monopolies and patents, pretending that he had not discovered before how grievous they were to his subjects; but the real fact was, that most of them had been granted to Scotchmen who had now forfeited his favour.

On leaving York he complimented the recorder, who had paid him the most fulsome flattery, and the municipal authorities, by telling them that he had there experienced more love than he ever had in London, on which he had showered so many benefits. At Durham by the bishop and clergy, and at Newcastle by the corporation, he was magnificently entertained, and at every halting-place fresh quotas of horse and foot came in. "But," remarks Clarendon, "if there had been none in the march but soldiers, it is most probable that a noble peace would have quickly ensued, even without fighting; but the progress was more illustrious than the march, and the soldiers were the least part of the army, and the least consulted with. For," he adds, "the king more intended the pomp of his preparations than the strength of them." The certain proof, he might have added, of a very foolish king, as Charles was. But the its which Clarendon summons up on this occasion to explain the want of success are amusing. "If the war had been vigorously pursued, it had been as soon ended as begun."

"If he had been duly informed of what was going on in Scotland," of course he would have known. "If the whole nation of Scotchmen had been entirely united in the rebellion, and all who stayed in the court had marched in their army, the king or kingdom could have sustained no damage by them; but the monument of their presumption and their shame would have been razed together, and no other memory preserved of their rebellion but in their memorable and infamous defeat." That is, there would have been no Scotch traitors about him to keep him misinformed. This is just as true as the treasury being well furnished, "for we know that Hamilton and Traquair kept the king admirably and punctually informed of everything the whole time. "If," however, Charles had more wisely chosen his generals, but Arundel, his general, was a man, says this veracious historian, " who had nothing martial about him but his presence and his looks, and therefore was thought to be made choice of for his negative qualities. He did not love the Scots; he did not love the puritans; which good qualities were allayed by another negative—he did love nobody else." The lieutenant-general, the earl of Essex, was too proud and uncompromising, and the earl of Holland, general of the horse, was just no general at all, "a man fitter for a show than a field." Yet, says Clarendon, "If the king himself had stayed at London, or, which had been the next best, kept his court and resided at York, and sent the army on its proper errand, and left the matter of the war solely to them, in all human reason his enemies had been speedily subdued." With such generals as Arundel and Holland,—for Essex was a brave commander, though, as afterwards shown, no great tactician,—it is not so easy to see that. But Clarendon might have safely reduced all his ifs into one—if Charles had been a wise king he would not have got into a quarrel with his subjects at all.

With such generals, and an army of raw levies, hastily dragged reluctantly from the plough and the mattock, to fight in a cause with which they had no sympathy, and encumbered by heaps of useless nobles and gentry, Charles marched on to Berwick, and encamped his forces on an open field called the Birks. He had besides the garrison of Berwick, three thousand two hundred and sixty horse, and nineteen thousand six hundred and fourteen foot. But on the other hand Leslie, says Clarendon, had drawn up his forces on the side of a hill at Dunse, so as to make a great show, "The front only could be seen; but it was reported ​that Leslie and the whole army were there, and it was very true, they were all there indeed—but it was as true that all did not exceed the number of nine thousand men, very ill armed, and mostly country fellows, who wore on the sudden got together to make that show." Leslie, ho informs us had so dispersed his knot of ragamuffins, with great herds of cattle on the hills around, that it was naturally supposed that there was a great army, the bulk of it concealed behind the hill; and he assures us that had the royal army pushed forward the whole illusion would have vanished.

This account is as thoroughly opposed to all the credible historians of the time, Rushworth, Nalson, Burnet, Baillie, and the letters of distinguished persons engaged, as the whole array of ifs. We are assured that Leslie had pitched his camp at Dunglas, and twelve thousand volunteers had crowded to his standard. The preachers everywhere called on their hearers to advance the cause of God and the kirk. Those in the camp wrote and disseminated letters to the same effect. One demanded that every true Scot should go forward to extort a reasonable peace from the king, or to do battle with his and their common enemies, the prelates and papists of England. Another denounced the curse of Meroz on all who did not come to the help of the Lord, and of his champions. Another ironically bade those who would not fight for God and their country, to bring spades and bury the saints whom they had abandoned to the swords of the Amalekites. They had chosen for the motto on their banners the words, "For Christ's Crown and the Covenant," and over every captain's tent waved the arms of Scotland and these words. Soldiers therefore flocked in on all sides to the sacred standard, and by the time that Leslie marched for Dunse hill, his army numbered nearly twenty thousand men, many of them new to arms, but all enthusiastic patriots. Twice a day they were summoned by sound of drum to drill and to sermon; and when they were not listening to the exciting harangues of the ministers, they were solacing themselves with singing psalms and reading the Scriptures, or with extempore prayer. "Had you lent your ear,"' says one of them, "and heard in the tents the sounds of some singing psalms, some praying, some reading Scripture, you would have been refreshed. For myself, I never found my mind in better temper than it was. I was as a man who had taken leave from the world, and was resolved to die in that service without return. I found the favour of God shining upon me, and a sweet, meek, humble, yet strong and vehement spirit leading me all along."

Leslie was joined by the earl of Montrose, who had been posted at Kelso, and the first of their proceedings was to issue proclamations, declaring that they had no intention to invade England if their reasonable demands were granted; and their only object was to obtain from the king the confirmation of his promises for the free enjoyment of their religion. Whatever was done in the Scottish camp was freely circulated in the royal camp, for they had plenty of friends there, and the strength, the spirits, and resolution of their army was abundantly set forth daily.

It was the fortune of the earl of Holland to lead the way first against them. He passed the Tweed near Twisell, where the English army had crossed to the battle of Flodden, and advanced towards the detachment of the army near Kelso. He had with him the bulk of the horse and about three thousand infantry. As if no enemy had been in the country, he trotted on with his horse, till he found himself on the hill of Maxwellhaugh, above Kelso, and not only saw the tents of the enemy, but his way barred by an advanced post of one hundred and fifty horse, and five or six thousand foot. He then discovered that his foot and artillery were three or four miles behind. On this he sent a trumpet to the enemy, commanding then not to cross the border, to which they replied by asking whose trumpet that was, and being told the earl of Holland's, they said the earl had better take himself off; which it appears he lost no time in doing, and role back to the general camp without striking a stroke. The Scotch, when they saw him retreating, sent after him a number of squibs and letters of ridicule, which were speedily circulated through the English army. The generals wrote, letters to Essex, Holland, and Arundel, entreating them to intercede with the king that matters might be accommodated without bloodshed. Essex is said to have sent or their letters to the king without a word of reply to their messengers Arundel and Holland were more gracious.

During this marching and countermarching it was that Leslie had posted his army on Dunse Hill, opposite Charles camp, and the king, who had hitherto despised the Scottish force, now felt alarmed at their close proximity, and the hasty retreat of Holland. He blamed lord Arundel for giving him no notice of the approach of the rebels, Arundel blamed the scout-master, and the scout-master blamed the scouts. There were earthworks suddenly thrown up to protect his camp, and intimation given that overtures would be listened to. Accordingly, on the 6th of June, 1639, the earl of Dunfermline, attended by a trumpet, arrived in the royal camp, bearing a humble petition to his majesty, entreating him to appoint a few suitable persons to confer with a deputation from the Scots, so that all misunderstandings might be removed, and the peace of the kingdom preserved. The petition was received, for besides the ill-success of Holland, the ill-success of Hamilton and his fleet was notorious; and it was, moreover, rumoured that the mother of Hamilton, a most zealous covenanter, had paid him a visit on board his vessel, and that he was much disinclined by her persuasions to press the Scotch closely. There were daily rumours of a descent from Ireland on the other hand, and of a rising of the royalists in the Highlands under lord Aboyne, son of the earl of Huntly, which rendered the covenanters more desirous of an accommodation. On the part of the crown the earls of Essex, Holland, Salisbury, and Berkshire, Sir Henry Vane, and Mr. Secretary Coke, were appointed commissioners; on that of the covenanters the earls of Rothes and Dunfermline, the lord Loudon, and Sir William Douglas, sheriff of Teviotdale. To these afterwards, much to the displeasure of the king, were added Alexander Henderson, late moderator of the assembly, and Johnstone, the clerk-register. They met in Arunderl's tent; but before they could enter on their business, the king himself suddenly entered, and telling the Scotch commissioners that as he understood they complained that they could not be heard, he had determined to hear them himself, and he demanded what it was they wanted. The earl of Rothes replied simply, to be secured in their religion and liberty. ​Loudon made some apology for the boldness of the proceedings of the Scotch, but Charles cut him short, telling him that he could admit of no apologies for what was past, but that if they came to implore pardon, they must put down what they had to say in writing, and in writing he would answer them.

This was Charles's peculiar style, by which the negotiation appeared likely to come to a speedy end; but the Scotch were firm, and adhered to their old natural principle, declaring that they had sought nothing but their own native rights, and the advancement of his majesty's service, and desired to have those severely punished who had misrepresented them to the king. Some historians assert that Hamilton at this juncture came into the camp from the Forth, and strongly advised the king to close with the Scots; though Clarendon affirms that he did not arrive till after the agreement was signed, and found much fault with it. However that be, after much debate, and several attempts to overreach the Scots, which their caution defeated, it was concluded that the king should ratify all that had begun done by his commissioner, which was next to nothing, though he would not recognise the acts of what he called the pretended general assembly. But the main and only important concession was that all disputes should be settled by another assembly, to be held on the 6th of August, and by a parliament which should ratify its proceedings, to be held on the 20th of August, when an act of oblivion should be passed. Both parties were to disband their armies; the king's forts were to be restored, with all the ammunition; the fleet was to be withdrawn; all Scotch merchant vessels and goods returned; and all the honours and privileges of the subjects should be replaced. The king resisted, however, any mention of episcopacy in the agreement; for he was as resolved as ever to reinstate the bishops. And indeed, that same hollow duplicity guided him in this as in all other actions of his life, being determined to break the whole agreement on the first possible opportunity. The covenanters strongly suspected as much; and when Charles, before returning, invited fourteen of the leaders to meet him in Berwick, they had the fear of the Tower before their eyes, and declined the honour, and sent as their commissioners the earls of Loudon, Lothian, and Montrose. Charles represented that it had been his intention to proceed to Edinburgh himself, and hold the parliament in person, but that fresh instances of "the valyiance of the godly females" deterred him; his chief officers of state not being able to show themselves for them in the streets of Berwick without insult.

What Charles had failed to do in the convention at large, he managed to effect to a certain degree with the nobles. Loudon and Lothian were said to be greatly softened by the king's conversation, but Montrose was won over altogether.

The two armies were disbanded on the 24th of June, and the earl of Traquair was appointed the king's commissioner in Scotland, Hamilton firmly declining to return thither. Charles reached London on the 1st of August, and one of the first things which he did, was to write to the Scotch bishops, telling them that he would never abandon the idea of reinstating them, and would in the meantime provide for their support. He forbade them to present themselves at the approaching assembly or parliament, as that would ruin everything; but he advised them to send in a protest against the infringement of their rights, and get it presented by some mean person, so as to create not too much notice. Such was Charles's perfidious conduct, at the very moment that he was promising the covenanters the contrary. Accordingly the bishops fixed themselves in the vicinity of the borders, some at Morpeth, some in Holy Island, some in Berwick itself, keeping up a correspondence with their adherents in the Scottish capital, and ready to rush in again on the first favourable chance.

If we are to believe Clarendon, however, "The king was very melancholic, and quickly discovered that he had lost reputation at home and abroad, and those counsellors who had been most faulty, either through want of courage or wisdom, for at that time few of them wanted fidelity, never afterwards recovered spirit enough to do their duty, but gave themselves up to those who so much had outwitted them, every man shifting the fault from himself." On the contrary, he says, "The Scots got so much benefit and advantage by it, that they brought all their other mischievous devices to pass with ease, and a prosperous gale in all they went about." They declared that "they did not intend, by anything contained in the treaty, to vacate any of the proceedings which had been in the late general assembly at Glasgow, by which all the bishops were excommunicated, and renewed all their menaces against them by proclamation, and imposed grievous penalties on all who should presume to harbour any of them, so that by the time the king came to London, it appeared plainly that the army was disbanded without a peace being made, and the Scots in more reputation, and equal inclination to affront his majesty than ever."

The fact was, that whilst Charles was pretending to concede, meaning to revoke when he had the power, the Scots were conscious of their advantage, and did not mean to allow him to do so. They were earnest and outspoken in their resolves, and therefore Charles seized a paper in which they published what had really been promised in the treaty, and had it burned by the common hangman.

The assembly was opened on the 12th of August in Edinburgh, and in spite of what Charles had assured the bishops, they were given up in the instructions to Traquair, for he meant to resist the abolition of the bishops, and to restore them when he had the power, but endeavoured to make political capital out of this concession. Traquair was to obtain, if possible, the admission of fourteen ministers into parliament instead of the bishops, or, if that were not possible, as many lay members whom the king was to appoint, and who were to choose the lords of the articles. By these perpetual finesses, Charles continually sought to filch back, as it were, the concessions that he made, as though those whom he sought to over-reach were not as wide awake as himself. He thought, if he could select the lords of the articles, and fourteen others devoted to him, he could revoke in the parliament what he gave up in the assembly—the characteristic of short-sighted cunning.

The bishops presented their protest to the commissioner, which, without being read, was to serve as a proof of there ​not having yielded up their claims; and the commissioner, finding the covenanters firm to all their demands—for every member of the assembly before entering it had sworn to support all the acts of the assembly of Glasgow—gave the royal assent to all the proceedings, and the news of the overthrow of episcopacy was received with shouts of acclamation by the people.

The parliament of Scotland met on the day appointed, the 20th of August. There the covenanters displayed their determination not to stickle for small matters, but to destroy the scheme by which that body had been made dependent on the royal will. They would no longer admit the bishops nor the lords of the articles whom the bishops had chosen, and who selected the topics under the direction of the crown, which should or should not come before the house. They proposed that the lesser barons, the commissioners of the shires, should take the place of the bishops, and that the lords of the articles should be selected from men of each estate, by those estates themselves. In order not to appear obstinate, they permitted the commissioner to name the lords of the articles for this once, but not as an act of right, but of grace, from themselves. They then decreed that all acts in favour of episcopacy should be rescinded; that patents of peerage should for the future be granted to none but such as possessed a rental of ten thousand marks from land in Scotland; that proxies should never again be admitted; and that the fortresses of Edinburgh, Stirling, and Dumbarton, should be entrusted to none but Scotchmen.

These measures would have completely enfranchised Scotland from the shackles of the crown, and Traquair, unable to avoid the necessity of ratifying them, prorogued the parliament to the 14th of November, so that he could receive the instructions of the king. Charles, to get rid of the demands of the covenanters altogether, prorogued it for six months. The members, who saw the intention, protested against the prorogation under circumstances so vital to the country, but obeyed after naming a deputation to go to the king on the subject. This deputation, headed by the lords London and Dunfermline, on arriving at Whitehall, were refused audience, because they had not come with the sanction of the royal commissioner; and Traquair was immediately summoned to court to answer for having conceded so much to the Scots. He had, indeed, conceded nothing but what Charles himself had instructed him to do; but the king was angry because he had not been able to recover in parliament, as he had vainly hoped, what was lost in convocation.

Traquair, who was aware that having implicitly followed these instructions would avail him little with the king in his mortification, thought of an expedient to divert Charles's anger into another channel. He had discovered a letter addressed by the covenanters to the king of France, complaining of the miserable condition of Scotland through the attempts of the king to root out the religion of the people; of his having violated the late treaty at Berwick, and dissolved parliament contrary to the will of the states, and to all national precedent, and entreating him to mediate in their favour. This letter was signed by seven lords, and addressed An Roi, The letter had been publicly declined by Louis, but privately answered, but in very cautious terms.

The production of this letter had all the effect that Traquair hoped for. The wrath of the king was immediately turned on the covenanters, and Traquair deepened the impression by assuring the king that nothing but war would pacify the covenanters, and declaring this discovery to be a perfect justification.

The Scots demanded an opportunity of vindicating themselves, and requested leave to send up deputies for that purpose. It was granted, and Dunfermline and Loudon were sent up. No sooner did they arrive than Loudon, whose name was to the intercepted letter, was instantly seized, and brought before the council. The letter being addressed simply An Roi, which was the manner from subjects to their own sovereign, and not as from foreigners, it was deemed treasonable on that ground, if no other. Loudon asserted that the letter had been written before the pacification at Berwick, and, not being approved, had never been sent; but the contents contradicted that statement; and, moreover, one William Colvill, who had carried it to the French court, was in London, and was taken. Loudon, thereupon, insisted on his safe conduct, and demanded liberty to return, contending that, if he had done anything wrong, it was in Scotland, and not there, that he ought to be interrogated. But the king sent both him and Colvill to the Tower.

The covenanters were greatly incensed at the seizure of their envoy, and demanded his release; but Charles is asserted by several historians, in particular, Crawford and Oldnixon, to have signed a warrant for his execution, and only to have been prevented putting him to death by the solemn declaration that if he did Scotland was lost for ever. After this transaction it became plain that nothing could avert a conflict betwixt the infatuated king and the people of Scotland. The great object of the king was to obtain funds; that of the Scotch to divide the king's attention by exciting discontents nearer home. England itself had abundant causes of dissatisfaction. The disuse of parliaments, the continued illegal levying of taxes by the king's own will, the rigorous and ruinous prosecutions in the star-chamber and the High Commission Court, the brandings, scourgings, and mutilations of such as dared to dispute the awful tyranny of the government, portended a storm at home ere long, and the Scots found abundance of well-wishers and friends amongst the English patriots. These were every day drawing into their ranks men of the highest position and the most distinguished talents. The earls of Essex, Bedford, and Holland, were men secretly connected with them; the lord Say, Hampden, Pym, Cromwell, and other men of iron nerve and indomitable will, were watching with deep interest the movements in the north so congenial to their own.

Whilst the king was pondering on the means of raising money, an event took place, which for the moment promised to present him with a considerable sum. A Spanish fleet of seventy sail was discovered by the Dutch admiral, De Witt, off the Lands' End. As it was bearing troops from Spain to Flanders, which were hard pressed by the Dutch, De Witt followed it up the Channel, firing guns to harass its rear, but still more to awake the attention of Van Tromp, who ​was lying off Dunkirk. The two celebrated Dutch admirals were soon in full chase of the Spaniards. Sixteen of the ships having four thousand troops on board, bore away with all speed for the coast of Flanders, but the rest fled for shelter into the Downs. Charles sent the earl of Arundel to demand from Oquendo, the Spanish admiral, his destination, being not without apprehension that they might be intended for a descent on Ireland, or in aid of his disaffected subjects of Scotland.

Oquendo satisfied Arundel that they were really on their way to Flanders, and demanded the protection of Charles as a friendly power. Charles was not unwilling to do so for a consideration, and the sum of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds was the price named in ready cash. For this Charles was to send the English fleet under protection of his own to Flanders, but the two Dutch admirals, having now no less than one hundred sail, from continued fresh arrivals, attacked the Spaniards in the English roads, sunk and burned five of the largest vessels, drove twenty-three more on shore, and pursued the rest across the channel, suffering only ten of them to escape them. All this time the English admiral lay near at hand, but made no movement in protection of the Spaniards. The English people on shore beheld the destruction of the Spanish fleet with the greatest exultation, the memory of the great Armada being yet so strong amongst them; but Charles had lost his much desired money at the moment that he thought to have grasped it, and with it had acquired an immense amount of foreign odium. To have suffered the vessels of a friendly power, which had fled to him for shelter, to be attacked and chased from his own harbour, lowered him greatly in the estimation of continental nations, and gave them an idea of the audacity of the Dutch, who unrebuked had perpetrated this insult, extremely to the disparagement of England It was questioned whether, had he already received the money of the Spaniards, he could have protected them from the victorious Dutch, the necessary conflict with whom would have involved England in a foreign war.

At the time of this untoward occurrence Charles had sent for Wentworth from Ireland, to assist him by his counsel as to the best mode of dealing with his difficulties at home, and the Scots in the north. Wentworth had overridden all obstacles in Ireland, and had forced an income out of the reluctant people there; he was thought, therefore, by Charles, the only man whose wisdom and resolution were equal to the crisis. Wentworth had strongly advised Charles against marching against the Scots, knowing that the king's raw levies would have no chance against them; and he had gone on actively drilling ten thousand men, to prepare men for the campaign, which he felt must come, even after all ​

​appeared settled at Berwick. There was much speculation amongst all classes as to what might be the result of his arrival, which is well expressed by Slay in his Parliamentary History:—"Great was the expectation of all the English what might be the effect of his coming over. Great was the opinion which men in general had conceived of his ability and parts, looking at him as the only hinge on which the state was now likely to turn. Some, as they wished, did seem to hope, when they considered his first right principles, that whatsoever he had acted since his greatness, was to ingratiate himself perfectly with the king, that so, at last, by his wisdom and favour, he might happily prevail both upon the king's judgment and affection, and carry him from those evil counsels which he had long been nurtured in, to such ways as should render him both honourable and happy. That the earl was so wise as to understand what most became a wise man, and what would make greatness beloved and permanent. But others durst not hope so much from him, when they considered his government in Ireland, and the ambition of the man. They feared that neither his virtue was great enough to venture his own fortunes, by opposing any evil counsels about the king, nor his favour great enough to prevail in over-ruling; that he was sent for only to complete that bad work which others of less brain than he had begun."

Unfortunately, the last opinions were the true ones. Wentworth was a very able but for from wise man, because he wanted the sentiment of goodness in any proportion to his power. He was proud and ambitious, and had sold himself to climb to worldly greatness on the ruins of his early and better principles. He had entered into a league with Laud of the most infamous nature, being under the name of "thorough," to trample out every spark of liberty in these kingdoms, which, had it succeeded, would have sunk into the place of the continental despotisms. But his haughtiness and insolence to his colleagues had already raised him many and deadly enemies, some of the most resolved of whom were those with whom he was now called to act. These were the king's council, consisting of Laud, the archbishop of Canterbury; Juxton, bishop of London, who was also lord treasurer; the two secretaries, Sir Henry Vane and Francis Windebank; the earl of Northumberland, lord Cottington, and the marquis of Hamliton.

Clarendon, who is a regular royalist, and inclined to see more virtues in Wentworth than other historians of the time, yet is obliged to sketch this picture of the enmities which he justly provoked:—"He was a man of too high and severe deportment, and too great a contemner of ceremony, to have many friends at court, and therefore could not but have enemies enough. He had two that professed it, the earl of Holland and Sir Henry Vane." Besides having said that "the king would do well to cut off Holland's head," he had insulted him in various ways. He had done all he could to prevent Sir Henry Vane being made secretary in the palace of Sir John Coke, whom the king displaced on his return from Scotland; but worse still, the king now creating him earl of Strafford, nothing would satisfy him but that he must be also made baron of Proby, Vane's own estate, from which he himself hoped to derive that title. "That," continues Clarendon, "was an act of the most unnecessary provocation that I have known, and though he contemned the man with marvellous scorn, I believe it was the loss of his head. To these a third adversary, like to be more pertinacious than the other two, was the earl of Essex, naturally enough disinclined to his person, his power, and his parts." This enmity in Essex, we are told, was increased by Wentworth's insolent conduct to lord Bacon, for whom Essex had a friendship; and he openly vowed vengeance. "Lastly, he had an enemy more terrible than all the others, and like to be more fatal, the whole Scottish nation, provoked by the declaration he had procured of Ireland, and some high carriage and expressions of his against them in that kingdom." We may add, that Wentworth had no friend in the queen, from his persecution of the catholics in Ireland, and was continually thwarted by her.

But all these councillors could devise no way to raise funds but by the old and irritating mode of ship-money, for which writs to the amount of two hundred thousand pounds were immediately issued, and this bearing no proportion to the requirements of a campaign against the Scots, they advised Charles to call together a parliament. To this he demurred; but when they persisted in that advice, he ordered a full council to be called, and put to it this question:—"If this parliament should prove as untoward as some have lately been, will you then assist me in such extraordinary ways as in that extremity should be thought fit?"

Charles was thus bent on extraordinary ways, and the council promised him its support. Wentworth retained to Ireland, being not only created earl of Strafford, but made lord lieutenant of that country. He promised to obtain a liberal vote from the Irish parliament, which it was thought might act as a salutary example for England. Accordingly, no one daring to oppose his wishes, he obtained four subsidies, with a promise of more if found necessary. The English parliament was delayed till this was effected, and was then summoned for the 13th of April.

We have now brought up the affairs of all parts of the kingdom since the dismissal of the last parliament in 1629, to the calling of a fresh one in this most memorable year of 1640, an interval of eleven years. During that period the king had ruled like the despot of a country without a constitution. He and his arch-counsellors, Laud and Wentworth, have endeavoured to force the Anglican church on both Scotland and Ireland; they have persecuted relentlessly all denominations of religion except those of the favoured church—catholics, puritans, presbyterians; they have branded, mutilated, imprisoned, fined at their good will and pleasure, all who dared to denounce their inquisitorial proceedings; they have imposed taxes of many new and unheard of kinds—as ship-money, fines for building houses in London, seizing of whole territories of private property in Ireland, &c. The lawless and juryless star-chamber awl High Commission Court have been the royal inquisitions, into which free subjects, the heirs of Magna Charta and of habeas corpus, were dragged, tortured, and punished at pleasure; and there is a determination to "go thorough," and reduce freeborn England to a crouching and charter-less serfdom. By this means Scotland is roused to the pitch ​of armed resistance; England stands sternly not far distant from the same temper; trodden Ireland is not without remaining throes of life; and within 1640 the blood of civil strife, not soon to be stanched, must flow; and instead of no parliament in eleven years, two parliaments in one year; the latter to endure nearly twice as long as the country had been without any, and work more wonderful changes than had yet been seen in England or any other monarchy.

To assist the king and council in what was felt to be a critical emergency, Wentworth, now Strafford, returned, though suffering from a painful complaint. He left orders for the immediate levy of an army of eight thousand men, and Charles took measures for the raising in England fifteen thousand foot and four thousand horse, which he thought would serve to overawe parliament; and, what is singular, the orders for the raising of there troops and providing artillery and ammunition were signed by Laud, so little had he an idea of an archbishop being a minister of the prince of peace. Before the arrival of Strafford, Charles read to the council the account of the liberal subsidies and the loyal expressions which Strafford had put into the mouths of the enslaved Irish commons. This he did at the request of Strafford himself, to prove not only the loyalty of the Irish, but his own popularity there, spite of the assertions of his being hated in that country.

When the king met the parliament on the 13th of April, he had not abated one jot of his high-flown notions of his divine right, and of the slavish obedience due from parliament. The lord keeper Finch, formerly the speaker of the house, but now more truly in his element as a courtier, made a most fulsome speech, describing the king as "the most just, the most pious, the most gracious king that ever was." That his kingly resolves were in the ark of his sacred breast, that no Uzziah must touch it. That he was like Phœbus; and that though he condescended to lay aside the beams and rays of majesty, they were not to presume upon it. He informed them that for many years in his piety towards them he had taken all the cares and annoyances of government from them, and raised the condition and reputation of the country to a wonderful splendour. That, notwithstanding such exemplary virtues and exhibitions of goodness, some sons of Belial had blown the trumpet of rebellion in Scotland, and that it was now necessary to chastise that stiff-necked people. That they must therefore lay aside all other subjects, and imitate the loyal parliament of Ireland in furnishing liberal supplies. That had not the king, upon the credit of his servants and out of his own estate, raised three hundred thousand pounds, he could not have made the preparations already in progress. That they must therefore grant him tonnage and poundage from the beginning of his reign, and vote the subsidies at once, when his majesty would pledge his royal word that he would take into his gracious consideration their grievances. And all this balderdash, and this stale trick of trying to get the supplies before the discussion of grievances, on the now well-estimated word of the king, from those sturdy commoners who bad never yet given way to force or flattery!

Charles then produced the intercepted letters of the Scottish lords to the king of France, to show the treason of the Scots, and the necessity of taking decisive measures with them. But the commons were not likely to be moved from their settled purpose by any such arguments. They elected Serjeant Glauvil as speaker, and proceeded first and foremost to the discussion of the grievances of the nation. Amongst their old members, though the brave Sir John Elliot had perished in prison, and Sir Edward Coke, who by his latter years of patriotism had effaced the memory of the arbitrary spirit of his earlier ones, was also dead, their were Oliver Cromwell, now sitting for Cambridge, Pym Hampden, Denzell Hollis, Maynard, Oliver St. John, Strode, Corriton, Hayman, and Haselrig. There were amongst the new ones, Harbottle Grimston, Edmund Waller, the poet, lord George Digby, the son of the earl of Bristol, a young man of eminent talent, and other men destined to become prominent. Sir Benjamin Rudyard and Grimston delivered speeches recommending at once courtesy and respect towards the crown, but unflinching support of the rights of the people. Harbottle Grinston described the commonwealth as miserably torn and massacred, all property and liberty shaken, the church distracted, the Gospel and professors of it persecuted, parliament suspended, and the Laws made void. Sir Benjamin Rudyard protested that he desired nothing so much as that they might proceed with moderation, but that if parliaments were gone, they were lost. A remarkable feature of this parliament was, that of the number of petitions sent in by the people, the dawn of that custom which has now become one of the greatest customs of England and the most efficient support of reforms by the commons. These were poured in against ship-money and other abuses, as the star-chamber. High Commission Court, &c., from the counties of Hertford, Essex, Sussex, &c. After these matters had been warmly debated for four days, for the king had many advocates in the house, on the 17th Mr. Pym delivered a most eloquent and impressive speech, in which he narrated the many attacks on the privileges of parliament and the liberty of the subject, and laid down the constitutional doctrine "that the king can do no wrong," thus bringing the conduct and counsels of his ministers under the direct census of the house, and loading them with the solemn responsibility—an awful foreshadowing of the judgments to come down on Laud and Wentworth. From that point the debate turned on the arbitrary treatment of the members of the commons, and orders were issued for a report of the proceedings of the star-chamber and the Court of King's Bench against Sir John Elliot, Mr. Hollis, and Mr. Hampden, to be laid on the table of the house. The conduct of the late speaker, Finch, in adjourning the house at the command of the king, was declared unconstitutional.

The king could no longer restrain his impatience, and summoned both houses before him in the banqueting hall. There the lord keeper Finch, in the presence of Charles, recalled their attention to the necessity of voting the supplies, and repeated the king's promises. He endeavoured to excuse the raising of ship-money as a necessity for chastising the Algerine pirates who infested the seas, and again recommended the liberal example of the Irish parliament. The only effect produced by this, was a most vivid and trenchant speech the next day by Waller, in which he told the house that the king was personally beloved, but ​that his mode of extorting; his subjects' money was detested; and that neither the admiration of his majesty's natural disposition, nor the pretended consent of the judges, could ever induce them to consent to such unconstitutional demands. He then severely castigated the conduct of the bishops and clergy who preached the divine right of monarchs to plunder the public at their own pleasure. "But," said he, "they gain preferment by it, and then it is no matter, though they neither believe themselves nor are believed by others. But since they are so ready to let loose the consciences of their kings, we are bound the more carefully to provide against this pulpit law, by declaring and enforcing the municipal laws of this kingdom."

This again roused the king, who went down to the lords, and read them a sharp lesson on their not supporting him in his just demands of supplies from the commons. Thereupon the lords sent for the commons to a conference on the 29th of April, and recommended them to pass the votes and take the king's word for the redress of grievances; but the commons resented their intruding their advice about money matters as an infringement of the privileges of the house; and on the 1st of May, the lords, through the lord keeper, disclaimed any intention of encroaching on any of the well-known rights of the commons, but that the lords had felt bound to comply with the request of the king. The commons returned to their debate on ship-money, and on Saturday, the 2nd of May, Charles sent a message by Sir Henry Vane, now secretary of state and treasurer of the household, desiring an immediate answer regarding the supplies. Lord Digby reminded the house that the demand was that of a hasty and immediate answer to a call for funds to involve the nation in a civil war with the Scots, a people holding the same religion, and subjects to the same king as themselves. The debate was continued for two days, Clarendon accusing Vane of deliberately keeping from the house the fact entrusted to him, that the king, though asking for twelve subsidies, would consent to take eight.

But it was net so much the amount as the principle involved in the subsidies, which was the question, as was soon shown; for, on the 4th of May, Charles sent Vane again with the remarkable offer to abolish ship-money for ever, and by any means that they should think fit, on condition that they granted him twelve subsidies, valued at eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds, to be paid in three years, with an assurance that the house should not be prorogued till next Michaelmas. This was a mighty temptation: here was the direct offer of at once getting rid of one of the monster grievances for ever; but it did not escape the attention of the more sagacious, that by accepting the bargain, they were conceding the king's right to set aside the most established laws, to force his own notions of religion on his subjects, and to make war on them if they refused. They rejected the snare, and maintained the debate for some hours against all the arguments of the court party. On rising, they informed Vane that they would resume the debate the next morning, at eight o'clock; but Sir Henry, seeing very well how it would terminate, assured the king in council that he was certain that the house would not grant him a penny for the war against the Scots.

On this Charles adopted one of his stratagems. Early in the morning he sent for Glanvil, the speaker, before the commons had assembled, and detained him at Whitehall, so that the commons without him could not vote against the supplies, nor protest against the war; and suddenly hastening to the house of lords, he sent for the commons, and dismissed them. In doing this, he praised the peers at the expense of the commons, and declared that, as to the liberties of the people, that the commons made so much; talk of, they had not more regard for them than he had.

This was the last parliament which Charles was ever to dissolve, and the folly of his conduct became speedily palpable. The parliament had only sate about three weeks, assembling April 13th, and being now dissolved on May 5th. By this hasty act he had put himself wholly on the army. Had he allowed the commons to vote against the supplies, many would have sympathised with him; now he had only himself to blame. His enemies rejoiced, and his friends deplored the deed, with gloomy auguries. Clarendon says that the next day he met Oliver St. John, "who had naturally a great cloud on his face, and was never known to smile;" but this day he looked quite radiant, and being then simple Mr. Hyde, asked what made him look so troubled. He replied, "the same, he believed, which troubled most good men, that in a time of such confusion, so wise a parliament, which alone could have found remedy for it, was so unseasonably dismissed." On which St. John said it was all very well, for kings must be worse before they are better.

The king was made to feel his mistake on applying to the city of London for a loan, and receiving a cool and evasive answer. The Scotch were greatly elated. They had their agents in close though secret communication with the leaders of the opposition, and now saw the king deprived of the means of effectually contending with them, and felt that they had numerous friends of their cause in England. The passion of the king only increased their advantages. He issued a proclamation declaring why he had dismissed the parliament, charging the commons with malice and disaffection to the state, and with designing to bring government and magistracy into contempt; and he gave fresh proofs of his vindictive feeling by arresting a number of the members the day after the dissolution. The public had not forgotten the cruelty practised on their faithful servant Sir John Elliot, and they now saw Sir John Hotham and Mr. Bellasis committed to the Fleet, Mr Crew, afterwards lord Crew, to the Tower, and the house of lord Brooke, his study, and cabinets, broken open to search for papers.

To add to the exasperation of the public against these leaders of the constitution. Laud, who had summoned convocation previous to the meeting of parliament, continued its sitting, after its dissolution, contrary to all custom; and its sitting was employed to pass a series of seventeen new canons of the most offensive and slavish kind. The public excitement was so great against the innovation, that the lord keeper Finch and some of the judges had to furnish a written opinion declaring the right of convocation to sit after the close of parliament, and a new commission was issued with the usual words "during the parliament" altered to "during our pleasure." But a guard of soldiers was deemed necessary to protect the sittings, in which the clergy first voted six subsidies to the king, and then passed ​to the canons, one of which ordered that every clergyman once a quarter should instruct his parishioners in the divine right of kings, and the damnable sin of resisting authority. Others fulminated the most flaming intolerance of catholics, Socinians, and separatists. All clergymen and graduates of the universities were called on to take an oath declaring the sufficiency of the doctrines and discipline of the church of England, in opposition to presbyterianism and popery.

On the publication of these canons, great was the ferment in the country, and petitions and remonstrances from Northamptonshire, Kent, Devon, and other counties, were sent up against them. It was most ungracious as regarded the catholics, who had just presented to the king, at the suggestion of the queen, fourteen thousand pounds. The queen remonstrated against it, and the king gave orders to Laud to desist from further annoyance in that direction. But anger and discontent were fearfully spreading through the country, from the outrageous measures to raise money. Fresh writs of ship-money were issued, and numbers were dragged into the star-chamber for refusal to pay, and fined, so that their money was forced from them by one process or the other. The names of the richest citizens were picked out in order to demand loans from them. Bullion, the property of foreign merchants, was seized at the Mint, and forty thousand pounds extorted for its release; and bags of pepper on the Exchange, and sold at whatever they would fetch. It was next proposed to coin four hundred thousand pounds worth of bad money; but the merchants and other men of intelligence came forward and drew such a picture of the ruin and confusion that such an act would produce, that the king was alarmed, and gave that up. The council, however, hit upon the scheme of purchasing goods at long credit, and selling them at a low price for ready money. All the time large sums of money were levied throughout the country by violence, for the support of the troops collected for the campaign against the Scots. Carts, horses, and forage were seized at the sword's point; and whoever dared to represent these outrages to the king, was branded as an enemy to the government. The corporation of London was dealt with severely, because it showed no great fondness for enforcing the king's arbitrary demands. The lord mayor and sheriffs were cited into the star-chamber for remissness in levying the ship-money; and several of the aldermen were committed to prison for refusing to furnish such persons in their several wards as were able to contribute to Charles's forced loans. Strafford said things would never go right till a few fat London aldermen were hanged.

These desperate measures inflamed the public mind beyond expression, and greatly strengthened the league of the discontented with the Scots. All, except the insane tyrants who were thus forcing the nation to rebellion, could see tempests ahead; and the earl of Northumberland, writing to a friend, said, "It is impossible that all things can long remain in the condition they are now in: so general a defection in this kingdom hath not been known in the memory of man." The disaffection began to find expression, and according to Clarendon, inflammatory placards were scattered about the city and affixed on gates and public places, denouncing the king's chief advisers. Laud, Strafford, and Hamilton, were the marks of the most intense hatred, and the London apprentices were invited, by a bill posted on the Royal Exchange, to demolish the episcopal palace at Lambeth, and "haul out William the Fox."

The train-bands assembled and kept the peace by day, but at night a mob of five hundred assembled and attacked Lambeth palace, and demolished the windows, vowing that they would tear the archbishop to pieces. In a couple of hours the train-bands arrived, tired on them, and dispelled the multitude. Laud got away to Whitehall, where he remained some days, till the damages were repaired, and the house fortified with cannon. Another crowd, said to be two thousand in number, entered St. Paul's, where the High Commission Court sate, tore down the benches, and cried out, "No bishop! no High Commission!" A number of rioters were seized by the train-bands and lodged in the White Lion Prison; but the prison was forced open by the insurgents, and their associates released all but two, a sailor and a drummer, who were executed, according to some authorities; according to others, only one. Clarendon says, this infamous, scandalous, headless insurrection was quashed with the death of only one varlet, whom he calls a sailor; but Mr. Jardine has the printed warrant still preserved in the State Paper Office, for the putting to the torture one Archy, a drummer. He appears to have been a half-witted youth from the north, whom the rioters carried with them to beat a drum. The torturing of this poor fellow, after the unanimous declaration of the judges in the case of Felton, that torture was and always had been contrary to the law of England, is another instance of the defiance of the king and his advisers of all law and constitution.

The king was greatly alarmed at this outbreak; he removed the queen to Greenwich, as she was near her confinement, and placed a strong guard over the palace with sixteen pieces of cannon; nor was he easy till he saw a force of six thousand men at hand.

The time for the meeting of the Scottish parliament had now arrived, and Charles sought to prevent it by another prorogation; but the Scots were not to be put off in any such manner. The king had for some time been treating them like a nation at war; he had prohibited all trade with Scotland, and his men-of-war had been ordered to seize all its merchantmen, wherever found. The Scots therefore met on the 2nd of January, set aside the king's warrant of prorogation on the plea of informality, and the members took their seats, elected a president, an officer hitherto unknown, and passed all the acts which had been prepared during the preceding session. They then voted a tax of ten per cent, on all rents, and five per cent, on interest of money; and, before rising, appointed a committee of estates, for the government of the kingdom till the next meeting of parliament. This committee was to sit either at Edinburgh or as the place where the head-quarters of the army should be, and a bond was entered into to support the authority of parliament, and to give to the statutes which it had passed or should pass the same force as if they had received the royal assent.

But they had not waited for parliament to take the necessary steps for the organisation of an army. They had retained in full pay the experienced officers whom they had ​invited from Germany, and the soldiers who had disbanded at the pacification of Berwick, returned with alacrity to their colours in March and April, Leslie was still commander-in-chief, and determined to reduce the castle of Edinburgh. before marching south. It was in vain that Charles issued his proclamations, warning them of the treasonable nature of their proceedings; they went on as if animated by one spirit, and determined not only to strike the first blow, but to advance into England instead of waiting to be attacked at home.

Charles, on his part, was far from being so early ready or so well served. His plans for the campaign were grand. He proposed to attack Scotland on three sides at once—with twenty thousand men from England, with ten thousand from the Highlands under the marquis of Hamilton, and with the same number from Ireland under Stratford. But his total want of funds prevented his progress, and the resort to the lawless practices which we have related for raising them, was alienating the hearts of his English subjects from him in an equal degree. It was not till the dissolution of parliament in July, and the loan of three hundred thousand pounds by the lords, that he dared to issue writs for the number of forces. Thus the Scots were ready for action when he was only preparing for an army.

In the appointment of the commanders the greatest blunders were committed. The earls of Essex, Holland, and Arundel, were set aside, which, with personal affronts to Essex, tended to throw those officers into the interest of the opposition. Essex and Holland were at undisguised hostility with Strafford, and as he was to take a leading part in the campaign, they were kept out of it to oblige him. The earl of Northumberland was appointed commander-in-chief instead of Arundel, but was prevented by a severe illness from acting; and Strafford was desired to leave Ireland in the charge of the earl of Ormond, and take the chief command, which he consented to do, but nominally only as lieutenant to Northumberland.

Lord Conway was made general of the horse, partly because he had been born a soldier in his father's garrison of the Brill, and had held several subordinate commands; but still more from the causes which put incompetent generals at the head of our armies now-a-days—court influence. Conway, according to Clarendon, was a very agreeable man in his manners. He was an especial favourite of Laud's, because he could talk well of church affairs, and went with his views and maxims; was thought by Laud a zealous defender of episcopacy; "whereas," says Clarendon, "they who knew him better, knew he had no kind of sense of religion, but thought all were alike." Yet the same authority says, "he was a voluptuous man in eating and drinking, and of great license in all other excesses, and yet was very acceptable to the strictest and gravest men of all conditions." In fact, he was a consummate hypocrite and libertine, and a most despicable general. At the same time he was very fond of books, a good reason for making him a professor, but not a general of cavalry; neither was it a much wiser reason for the appointment that, in "a court full of faction, where very few loved one another, he alone was Gomestic with all."

Leslie collected his army at Cheuseley Wood, near Dunse, his former camp, on the 29th of June, and drilled them there three weeks. He had intrusted the siege of the castle of Edinburgh to a select party, and had the pleasure soon after this period to hear of its surrender to his officers. Meantime, Conway was advancing northward, and soon gave evidence of his gross incapacity, by writing in all his despatches to Windebanke, the secretary of state, "that the Scotch had not advanced their preparations to that degree, that they would be able to march that year." But the king. Clarendon says, had much better information, and ought to have distrusted the vigilance of such a commander. Moreover, his soldiers displayed a most decided aversion to the service. They were evidently leavened with the same leaven of reform as the parliament. They wanted to know whether their officers were papists, and would not be satisfied fill they saw them take the sacrament. "They laid violent hands," says May, "on divers of their commanders, and killed some, uttering in bold speeches their distaste to the cause, to the astonishment of many, that common people should be sensible of public interest and religion, when lords and gentlemen seemed not to be." "All these instances of discontent," says Hume, "were presages of some great revolution, if the court had possessed sufficient skill to discover the danger."

Strafford was so well aware of the readiness of the Scots, and the unreadiness and disaffection of the English soldiery, that he issued strict injunctions to Conway not to attempt to cross the Tyne, and expose his raw and wavering recruits in the open country betwixt that river and the Trent, but to fortify the passage of the Tyne at Newburn, and prevent the Scots crossing. The Scots, however, did not leave him much time for his defences. On the 20th of August, Leslie crossed the Tweed with twenty thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry. He had been strongly advised to this step by the leaders of the English opposition themselves, and "the earls of Essex, Bedford, Holland, the lord Say, Hampden, and Pym," says Whitelook, "were deeply in with them."

No sooner were the Scots on English ground, than the preachers advanced to the front of the army with their Bibles in their hands, and led the way. The soldiers followed with reversed arms, and a proclamation was issued by Leslie that the Scots had undertaken this expedition at the call of Divine Providence, not against the people of England, but against the Canterbury faction of papists, atheists, Arminians, and prelates. That God and their consciences bore them witness that they sought only the peace of both kingdoms by putting down the troublers of Israel, the fire-brands of hell, the Korahs, the Balaams, the Doegs, the Rhabshakelis, the Hamans, the Tobiahs, the Sanballats of the times, and that done, they would return with satisfaction to their own country.

On the 27th of August they arrived at Heddonlaw, near Newburn, on the left bank of the Tyne, and found Conway posted on the opposite side, betwixt Nowburnhaugh and Stellahaugh. The Scots kindled that night great fires round their camp, thus giving the English an imposing idea of its great extent; and we are told that numbers of the English soldiers went over during the night amongst them, and were well received by them, for they assured them that they ​only came to demand justice from the king against the men who were the pest of both nations. The next day the Scots attempted to ford the river, but were driven back by a charge of six troops of horse; these horse were, however, in their turn repulsed by the discharge of artillery, and a second attempt of the Scots succeeded.

In this success a troop of twenty-six horse from Leslie's body-guard, all Scotch lawyers, greatly distinguished themselves; the English distinguished themselves very little, except their officers, commissary Wilmot, the son of lord Wilmot, Sir John Digby, a catholic recusant, and captain O'Neale, an Irish catholic, who, with their men, drove the Scots opposed to Lunsford into the river, but being deserted by the rest, were surrounded and taken. They were, however, most honourably received by Leslie, and allowed to return to the king's army. "As for Conway," says Clarendon, "he soon afterwards turned his face towards the army, nor did anything like a commander, though his troops were quickly brought together again, without the loss of a dozen men (the real loss was about sixty), and were so ashamed of their flight, that they were very willing, as well as able, to have taken what revenge they could upon the enemy."

This was not true, for though "our whole army made the most shameful and confounding flight that was ever heard of," they had no chance of taking revenge with such a commander, being only about four thousand five hundred, altogether, horse and foot, whilst the Scots were twenty-six thousand men; the English unpractised, and having no heart for the work, the Scotch resolute as one man, and commanded by officers grown grey in the service of the victorious Swede. When the English army reached Newcastle, they did not feel themselves able to defend it against such an army, the place being ill-fortified, and they fled on to Durham. The Scotch could scarcely believe their eyes when they found Newcastle evacuated. They advanced with caution to the gates, where Douglas, sheriff of Teviotdale, with a small party of horse, demanding a parley, to their surprise, found the gates thrown open to them. Leslie pitched his camp at Gateshead, on the other side of the Tyne, commanding from his lofty position the town, and was thence plentifully supplied with provisions for his troops, for which he paid promptly. The next day being Sunday, Douglas and fifteen Scottish lords dined with Sir Peter Riddle, the mayor, and heard three sermons.

The retreating English army, under the panic-stricken Conway, meantime dared not even stop at Durham, but ​continued their flight to Darlington, where they met Strafford coming up with reinforcements. He was suffering from both gout and stone, and in a marvellous bad humour at the late scandalous disaster; and he must have seen enough of the demoralisation of Conway's troops, for he turned back with him to Northallerton, where Charles was lying with the bulk of his army. Altogether, Charles had now twenty thousand men and sixty pieces of cannon wherewith to face the Scots; but the disaffection became so manifest, the desertions so frequent, and the whole condition of the force so unsatisfactory, that though Strafford affected to speak with contempt of the Scots, he assured Charles that it would require two months to put his army into fighting order. They therefore fell back upon York, concluding to entrench a camp under its walls, and send the cavalry to Richmond or Cleveland, to guard the passes of the Tees.

The Scots had meantime taken unopposed possession of Newcastle, Durham, Shields, Tynemouth, and other towns, and were masters of the four northern counties of England, without having lost twenty men. In this position it has been matter of wonder that they did not still advance, and drive the king before them; but those writers who have thus imagined have greatly mistaken the whole business. The object of the Scotch was not, as of old, to annoy and devastate, much less to conquer England; it was simply to force from the king and his evil ministers the recognition and the guarantee of their just national rights. They had advanced into England with this plain declaration; they had attempted not to fight except so far as to force their way to the king's presence. To that they were, in fact, now come. They had achieved a vantage-ground from which to treat, and, though strongly posted, and possessed of the whole country north of the Tees, they had refrained from all ravages and impositions on the people with whom they had no quarrel, paying for whatever they needed. To have done otherwise, would have broken faith with the people of England, who were seeking the same redress of grievances as themselves, and have at once roused all the jealousy of the English public, who would have regarded them as invaders instead of friends, and thus strengthened the hands of the king. The Scots knew perfectly well what they were about, and how best to obtain their just demands. They now therefore sent the lord Lanark, secretary of state for Scotland, and brother of the marquis of Hamilton, to present the petition of the covenanters to the king, who was plainly in a strait, and therefore compelled to listen to it. They respectfully repeated their pacific designs, and implored the king to assemble a parliament, and by its wisdom to settle peace betwixt the two kingdoms. This was precisely what the people of England were earnestly seeking, and demonstrates the perfect concert betwixt the leaders of the two nations. To assemble a parliament was of all things the last which Charles was disposed to consent to, but he was in no condition to refuse altogether. He therefore took three days to consider their request, and on the 5th of September returned to lord Lanark the answer, that he would assemble a great council of English peers in York to settle the matters in dispute between them, and that he had already summoned this assembly for the 24th of that month. By this means Charles endeavoured to escape the necessity of calling a parliament, but his hesitation did not avail him. All parties were too much interested to let this opportunity slip. Twelve peers, Bedford, Essex, Hertford, Warwick, Bristol, Malgrave. Say and Sde, Howard, Bolingbroke, Mandeville, Brooke, and Paget, presented a petition, urgently representing the necessity of a parliament, and describing the sufferings of the nation from the lawlessness of the soldiers, the damage done to trade by the arbitrary levies on merchants, and the danger of bringing in wild Irish troops. The citizens of London prepared a similar one, which Laud endeavoured to quash, but in vain; they obtained ten thousand signatures, and despatched some of the aldermen and members of the common council to present it at York. The gentry of Yorkshire presented another, detailing their sufferings from the support of the army, and their cry, too, was for a parliament. Strafford, who was desired to present it, endeavoured to persuade them to leave the prayer for a parliament out, on pretence that he knew the king meant to call one; but they would on no account omit it. Thus pressed on all sides, Charles was reluctantly compelled to promise, and on the meeting of the great council of peers on the 24th, announced to them that he had issued the writs for the meeting of a parliament on the 3rd of November.

The Scots had comprised their demands under seven heads, the chief of which were the full and free exercise of their religion; the total abolition of episcopacy; the restoration of their ships and goods; the recall of the offensive epithet of traitors; and the punishment of the evil counsellors who had created all these troubles. The lords, delighted at the prospect of a parliament, saw no difficulty in coming to terms with the Scots. They named sixteen of their own body to meet with eight commissioners of the covenanters at Repton, to negotiate the terms of a peace, and sent a deputation of six other lords to London, to raise a loan for the king of two hundred thousand pounds, on their own securities. Charles would have drawn the conference from Repton to York, where his army lay, but the Scots were too cautious to be caught in such a snare. They represented the danger of their putting their commissioners into the power of an army commanded by Strafford, one of the very incendiaries against whom they were complaining, and who termed them rebels and traitors in the parliament in Ireland, and had recommended the king to subdue and destroy them. The conference was opened at Repton, but got no further from the 1st to the 16th of October, than the settlement of the question of the maintenance of the Scotch army till all was concluded. Charles offered to leave them at liberty to make assessments for themselves, but this they declined, as looking too much like plundering; and it was finally agreed that they should retain their position in the four northern counties, and receive eight hundred and eighty pounds for two months, binding themselves to commit no depredations on any party; and the time for the meeting of parliament approaching, the conference was adjourned to London on the 24th.

Thus was finished what the soldiers called the Bishops' War, though neither army would be disbanded, but lay there in the north near each other; but still every one believed that parliament would put an end to those ​agreements which had arisen from the want of a parliament.

The last parliament was called the Short Parliament; this was destined to acquire the name of the Long Parliament, never to be dissolved till it had dissolved the monarchy—the most memorable parliament that ever sate. In spite of all the efforts of Charles and his Gog and Magog of despotism, Laud and Stratford, to abolish parliaments for ever; in spite of the outrages on the constitution which had made their names hateful in the ears of all true Englishmen; in spite of armies raised to tread the last spark of liberty out of the land; and to compress a nation's liberties within the single person of the king—here was the loathed power and presence of parliament thrust back upon him, and under circumstances which boded to the aggressive king and his evil ministers nothing but submission. It was notorious that he had not dared to cope with even Scotland in arms, and England was ready to rise, too, if its demands were longer eluded. He was destitute of money to pay soldiers, and still more destitute of power to command their allegiance; he therefore came back, as it were, worsted, bound, and humbled. "The parliament," says Clarendon, "met on the 3rd of November, 1640. It had a sad and a melancholic aspect upon the first entrance, which presaged some unusual and unnatural events. The king himself did not ride with his accustomed equipages, nor in his usual majesty to Westminster, but went privately in his barge to the parliament stairs, and so to the church, as if it had been a return of a prorogued or adjourned parliament. There was likewise an untoward, and in truth, an unheard of accident, which broke many of the king's measures, and infinitely disordered his service beyond a capacity of reparation."

This was the defeat in the city of the man on whom he had fixed as speaker of the commons. Sir Thomas Gardiner, the recorder of London, a lawyer on whom Charles greatly calculated for managing the house. But that very morning he learned that Gardiner had been thrown out as one of the four members, and he was so confounded, that it was afternoon before he could go to the house. There Lenthall, a bencher of Lincoln's Inn, was immediately elected speaker, and Charles, believing him well affected to the church and state, when two days afterwards he was, according to custom, presented to him, confirmed the choice, which he afterwards most bitterly repented. But it was not only in the case of the speaker that the king was doomed to see himself disappointed. The whole body of the new house was of a new character and spirit. The conduct of the king and his ministers had clearly shown the people that they must do their duty, and send none to parliament but men of a stanch and popular temperament. They had exerted themselves in the election to such purpose that only two of the king's ministers were returned to it, Sir Henry Vane and Sir Francis Windebanke, his secretaries. But Windebanke was so universally detested as the tool and blood-hound of Laud, that his presence was a real mischief to the king's interest; and whilst Vane was believed to lean secretly to the popular side, his son, Henry Vane, who was now first brought in, a man of singular and most brilliant, though eccentric, genius, war a wonderful accession of strength to the force of the reformers. Here again were met Cromwell, Hampden, Pym, Selden, St. John, Hollis, Falkland, Rudyard, Digby, the son of the earl of Bristol, Grimston, Deering, Hyde, yet a reformer, and a host of others, of like tone and calibre. It was immediately perceived that they had come together with a quicker memory of their injuries, and a vastly enlarged perception of their powers. The events of the last six months had given them centuries of advantage, and they now aimed at measures which made the timid tremble, and even the proudest oppressors shrink. "There was," says Clarendon, "observed a marvellous elated countenance in most of the members of parliament before they met together in the house. The same men, who six months before were observed to be of very moderate tempers, and to wish that gentle remedies might be applied without opening the wound too wide and exposing it to the all, and rather to excuse what was amiss than too strictly make inquisition into the causes and origin of the malady, talked now in another dialect both of things and persons. Mr. Hyde, who was returned to serve for a borough in Cornwall, met Mr. Pym in Westminster Hall some days before the parliament, and conferring together on the state of affairs, Pym told Hyde that "'they now must be of another temper than they were the last parliament; that they must not only sweep the house clean below, but must pull down the cobwebs which hung on the tops and corners, that they might not breed dust, and so make a foul house hereafter. That they had now an opportunity to make their country happy by removing all grievances, and pulling up the causes of them by the roots, if all men would do their duties;' and used much other sharp discourse to the same purpose, by which it was discerned that the warmest and boldest counsels and overtures would find a much better reception than those of a more temperate allay, which fell out accordingly."

Charles opened parliament, as usual, by promising freely redress of grievances on the granting the necessary subsidies, and called on the two houses to abandon all suspicions, and put confidence in him; but, after fifteen years of constant struggle and constant breaches of faith, that was impossible, The commons saw the certainty at length of achieving their objects, not from any good will towards constitutional freedom in the king, but from the stringent necessity in which he had placed himself. His creeping into parliament, as it were, by the back door, instead of coming there in the usual state, showed that he was anxious and depressed, and his advisers were in an equal state of terror. His latest hope, the selection of the speaker, had failed him, and he saw the commons commence their work by passing altogether over the question of supplies, and falling in ominous earnestness on the grievances.

Hyde, afterwards lord chancellor and royalist historian, but hitherto a stanch reformer, attacked the president's court in the north, which Wentworth, by his arbitrary acts in it, had brought prominently into notice. Lord Digby, Waller, and Sir John Culpepper, introduced numerous petitions from almost all parts of the country against abuses, ship-money, neglect of parliaments, time-serving judges, and other government offences. Petitions were not only poured in in abundance, but from some counties were brought up by formidable parties of horsemen. It was manifest that ​the country was effectually roused. The lord Falkland, Sir Benjamin Rudyard, Sir Edward Deering, Harbottle Grimston, Denzell Hollis, second son of the earl of Clare, Nathaniel Fiennes, second son of the lord Say, and others, led on by Pym, as the acknowledged leader, assailed the whole system of episcopacy, denounced all canons and constitutions which Laud had recently passed, and so effectually alarmed that fiery little churchman, that he began to see omens and tremble at approaching ruin. He had seen two thousand Brownists burst into the High Commission Court in St. Paul's, crying, "No bishop! no king!" and tear down all the benches in the consistory; he had seen his house attacked and his life endangered, and now he heard himself menaced every day in parliament. Instead of defying all this, as had been his wont, and dragging the extra parliamentary offenders at least into the star-chamber, he was, like his royal master, humbled. He writes in his diary, that he went one evening into his study, and found his portrait fallen from the wall with its face on the floor, and he exclaims, "God grant that this be no omen."

He had reason—in truth the image of Dagon was fallen on the floor of the temple, and its hands, which had worked so much tyranny, were cut off. In parliament Mr. Bagshaw declared that the bishop of Exeter had issued a book maintaining that the right of bishops, like that of kings, was divine; but he denied it, and declared that any power which they had was derived solely from the laws of England; and Sir Edward Deering declared that there was scarcely a distinction left betwixt the church of England, as Laud had made it, and popery. The one, he said, had the inquisition, the other the High Commission; the one had its index expurgatorius, the other its imprimaturs, or licensings of the press. He declared that Laud's notions of supremacy and infallibility were precisely those of popery, and observed that, for his part, he had rather have the pope on the Tiber than on the Thames—at Rome than at Lambeth. And then Sir Benjamin Rudyard referred to the unheard of cruelties that had been practised on ministers that would not entirely conform to all his popish innovations, their families ruined, their wives and children turned out into the streets and highways. "What do these priests," he observed, "think will become of themselves, when the Master of the house shall come and find them thus beating their fellow-servants?" He concluded by ominous allusions to the king's great advisers, declaring that their doings "had rung a very doleful, deadly knell over the whole kingdom. They had talked of the king's service, but had been consulting only their own; of the king's power, but they had made it a miserable power, that produced nothing but weakness to the king and the kingdom; and had exhausted his revenues to the bottom, nay, through the bottom, and beyond."

On the fourth day of their session they proceeded from acts to deeds. They passed an order that those victims of the star-chamber, Prynne, Bastwick, and Burton, whose horrible mutilations had revolted the whole civilised world, putting the reformed church of England on a par with persecuting and plundering Rome in her worst days, should be sent for from their distant prisons, and called on to state by whose authority they had been thus mutilated, branded, and imprisoned. This order spread a wonderful joy amongst the reformers everywhere. The three lopped and tortured men were welcomed with acclamations at all places on their journey, and on the 28th of November they entered London, attended by hundreds of carriages, and by five thousand people on horseback, both men and women, all wearing in their hats and caps bays and rosemary, and followed by great multitudes, with boughs and flowers, and strewing flowers and herbs as they passed. This was a change from the day when Laud pulled off his cap at the passing of Prynne's horrible sentence, and thanked God for it. The house of commons, after hearing their statement, voted them damages to the amount of six thousand pounds to Burton, and five thousand pounds each to Prynne and Bastwick, which was to be paid by archbishop Laud and his associates in the High Commission and star-chamber.

But they did not stop there; from compensating the sufferers they passed on to the punishment of the oppressors. The committee of religion proceeded to inquire into the loose lives of the clergy, their cruelties towards the puritans, and their introduction of papistical ceremonies. "Their first care," says May, in his History of Parliament, "was to vindicate distressed ministers, who had been imprisoned or deprived by the bishops, and all others who in the cause of religion had been persecuted by them. Many of those ministers were released from durance and restored to their livings, with damages from their oppressors. Many doctors and divines that had been most busy in promoting the late church innovations about altars and other ceremonies, and therefore most gracious and flourishing in the state, were then questioned and committed, inasmuch as the change, and the suddenness of it, seemed wonderful to own, and may serve worthily as a document to all posterity, quam fragili loco starent superbi—how insecure are the proud."

Dr. Cousens, master of St. Peter's, Cambridge, who had been one of the greatest sticklers for Laud's changes, was imprisoned and deprived of some of his preferments, and only escaped further chastisement by parliament being busied with many momentous matters, and occupied with higher game. These proceedings gave a marvellous impetus to the people. Petitions in incredible numbers poured in from all sides, demanding the abolition of the High Commission, the star-chamber, and the bishops themselves. Alderman Pennington presented a petition of this kind from the city of London, with fifteen thousand signatures. But Laud, as the arch-ceremonist and persecutor, was most loudly denounced, and the Scotch commissioners, who had now arrived in London, joined in this demand against the man who had been the root and artificer of all their troubles, "the great incendiary of their national differences."

On the 18th of December, Denzell Hollis was sent to the upper house to demand the impeachment of Laud. On hearing this the archbishop rose, and with his usual warmth declaring his own innocence, was proceeding to charge his accusers with various offences, but he was promptly called to order by the earl of Essex and the lord Say, and was stopped by the house and consigned to the usher of the black rod. He apologised and obtained leave to fetch some papers from his own house, under surveillance of the gentleman usher, necessary to his own defence; and after remaining in the custody of the black Rod for ten weeks, he ​was committed to the Tower. The delay in his commitment was occasioned by the arrest of his great brother in the "thorough," Strafford, and the proceedings consequent on it; but meantime his aiders, abettors, and instruments were not forgotten. Harbottle Grimston, in his speech demanding the impeachment of Laud, called as loudly for the punishment of all his fiery coadjutors. "Who," he exclaimed, "but he only, brought the earl of Strafford to all his great employments? Who but he brought in secretary Windebank, the very brother and panderer to the whore of Babylon? Who but he hath advanced all our popish bishops—Mainwaring, bishop of Bath and Wells, the bishop of Oxford, and bishop Wren, the least of all these birds, but one of the most unclean?"

All these bold asserters of the divine right of kings and of bishops, Mainwaring, Bancroft, Price, and Wren, were now snugly seated in bishoprics; and Wren, now bishop of Ely, a most unscrupulous persecutor of the nonconformists, when bishop of Norwich had driven out the industrious foreign clothiers, who had settled there on their escape from persecution in their own country, because they would not abandon their own faith and adopt the Anglican ceremonies. The very next day after the arrest of Laud, the commons sent a message to the peers by Hampden, that Wren was endeavouring to escape, and the peers ordered him to give bail to the amount of ten thousand pounds.

But the commons had been all this time more deeply engaged in securing the most daring and dangerous offender of all, the earl of Strafford. Laud, who was generally in London, was more safely within their power at any moment; but Strafford was left in the north, where he was lieutenant-general of the army, lord president of the council of the north, and could at any instant slip away to Ireland, where he had still more authority, and a considerable army. Laud, once caged, could wait; but Strafford must be both secured and promptly dealt with. His own friends in London, and his own sagacity, sufficiently apprised Strafford of the danger which awaited him if he came to town. He represented to the king that it were much better on all accounts that he should remain where he was. That in London he should by his presence remind the opposition of their enmity towards him; that he would therefore only further embarass the king's affairs, whilst he could be of service with the army in the north, and if necessary, escape to Ireland, where he might do the king real service. But Charles, who felt his weakness without Strafford, in whose judgment and power of overruling men he had the highest faith, would not hear of it, but insisted on his coming to London; and great anger of the puritans. Seeing the hour of retribution pledged himself to guarantee his safety, reminding him that he was king of England, and that parliament should not touch a hair of his head. Strafford was rather bound to obey as a subject and servant of the crown, than assured of his safety by those solemn pledges. He went to town, and on the third day after his arrival he was arrested, and in the custody of the keeper of the black rod. Charles had inveigled the unhappy man to his doom, from which neither the king's word nor the king's authority could save him.

On the 11th of November, 1640, assuming an outward air of unconcern, Strafford went to take his seat in the house of lords. The earl of Northumberland, writing to the earl of Leicester on the 13th, declared that "a greater and more universal hatred was never contracted by any person, than he has drawn upon himself, yet he is not at all dejected." No sooner, however, did he appear in the house, than his evil angel appeared there too, and demanded his seizure on a charge of high treason. Pym, when Wentworth abandoned the cause of reform at the temptation of the king, had said plainly to him, "You are going to leave us, but we will never leave you while your head is upon your shoulders!" and for himself he kept that vow singly, sternly, inviolably, till it was accomplished.

Baillie, who was one of the Scotch commissioners, gives this striking account of his arrest:—"he calls rudely at the door: James Maxwell, keeper of the black rod, opens. His lordship, with a proud, gloomy countenance, makes towards his place at the board head: but at once many bid him avoid the house; so he is forced in confusion to go back till he is called. After consideration, being called in, he stands, but is commanded to kneel, and on his knees to hear the sentence. Being on his knees, he is delivered to the keeper of the black rod, to be prisoner till he was cleared of these crimes the house of commons had charged him with. He offered to speak, but was commanded to begone without a word. In the outer room James Maxwell required him, as prisoner, to deliver his sword. When he had got it, he cries with a loud voice for his man to carry my lord-lieutenant's sword. This done, he makes through a number of people towards his coach, all gazing, no man capping him, before whom, that morning, the greatest of England would have stood uncovered, all crying, 'What is the matter?' He said, 'A small matter, I warrant you.' They replied, 'Yes, indeed, high treason is a small matter.' Coming to his place where he expected his coach, it was not there, so he behoved to return the same way, through a crowd of gazing people. When at last he found his coach, and was entering, James Maxwell told him, 'Your lordship is my prisoner, and must go in my coach;' so he behoved to do."

In a few days he was committed to the Tower, and the commons proceeded to deal with the rogues next in degree. Sir Francis Windebank, one of the secretaries of state, had been one of the most ready instruments of Laud, and at the same time privately a catholic, on which account he had released a number of catholic priests from prison, to the coming, Windebank did not wait for it, but procuring letters from the queen, he escaped to France, where he was well received, and subsequently threw off the mask and openly professed Catholicism. Clarendon asserts that the commons willingly let him escape, because his arrest and trial might have implicated his colleague, Sir Henry Vane, whom they did not want to touch.

The lord keeper Finch was the next delinquent aimed at. He had proved himself a most pliant instrument of the king, justifying his most oppressive measures in parliament, and a zealous enforcer of his illegal acts. He had been the great mover in the prosecution of Hampden for refusal of ship-money, and had prosecuted others severely for the same resistance. He now begged to be permitted to defend himself before the house of commons, which was permitted; and ​appearing at its bar with the great seal, he made the most humble obeisance, and endeavoured to excuse himself with many plausible words and tears. But all this well-acted contrition did not prevent the house from voting him a traitor, and the next morning sending up his impeachment to the lords. But the cunning fellow had seen sufficient in the house to assure him of its verdict, and had made good use of the time. He was nowhere to be found, nor was heard of again till he was safe in Holland.

From the ministers the commons stretched their hands to the judges, who had sanctioned the king's levy of shipmoney, and had condemned John Hampden. They ordered Branston, Davenport, Crawley. Trevor, and Weston to find heavy bail for their appearance to answer the charges of Parliament; and Berkeley, who had exclaimed on the bench that "the law knew no king-yoking policy, but that Rex was Lex," was treated with less ceremony, being plucked from the very judgment-seat as he sat in his ermine, amid judges and lawyers, and taken away as a felon to receive the censure of Parliament and pay a fine of ten thousand pounds. They extended their measures even further than the judges—to the sheriffs and lieutenants of counties who had been very active and overbearing in the collection of ship-money; but they contented themselves with giving those a fright. Not so with the farmers and officers of the customs, who for so many years had insolently fleeced the people at the arbitrary will of the king; they were glad to compound for a pardon by a fine of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds.

Never was there such a scene in the history of nations. The effect was that of magic. It was as if a thunderbolt had fallen in the midst of the haughty advocates of national slavery. They fell flat and licked the feet of then chasteuers. There was an instant hush of all praises of despotism and exhortation to illegal taxation, like that which in a populous city follows the explosion of a mine, and the whole fabric of absolutism dropped at once like a house of cards. Finch, the renegade, and Windebank, the bloodhound of Land, had dropped the strutting honour of lord keeper and secretary of state, and fled hastily from the wrath to come. The servile judges were prostrate in the dust; the two arch-absolutists were in durance, waiting the just award of an insulted people, and only one of the leading offenders had managed to escape deserved censure by a more cunning treason. This was the marquis of Hamilton, who, seeing the tempest ahead, came to Charles at York, where he summoned the ​

​council of peers, and, according to Clarendon, asked leave to travel. "If," says this historian, "the marquis of Hamilton had been then weighed in the scales of the people's hatred, he was at that time thought to be in greater danger than any of the others, for he had more enemies and fewer friends in court and country, than either of the others." He had been the sole manager in Scotland, and had advised the king's agreement with the people, and then, says Clarendon, had advised his breaking it. He had obtained profitable monopolies in iron and wine, and had "outfaced the law in bold projects and pressures upon the people." He now came to the king with great professions of service, yet represented that his presence might be prejudicial to the king's interests. Charles expressed his surprise and unwillingness that he should leave him, and assured him that he would protect him through all. He hesitated, saying, "that he knew there were no less fatal arrows aimed at the archbishop of Canterbury and the earl of Strafford than at himself; and that he had advertised the first and advised the last to take the same course he meant to secure himself by withdrawing; but he said the earl was too great-hearted to fear, and he doubted the other was too bold to fly."

The king being unwilling to hear of his retirement, Hamilton then said there was only one other come that he could adopt to save himself and serve the king, and that was by pretending service to the other party, by which means he should learn all their intentions, and could apprise the king in time of them, and might otherwise sway matters to his advantage. In other words, he proposed to be a spy under the garb of a friend to the reformers. Charles caught at the idea, and from this moment we are to regard Hamilton in this light.

This, then, was the marvellous state of affairs at this moment. "Within less than six weeks," says Clarendon, "these terrible reformers had caused the two greatest counsellors of the kingdom—Laud and Strafford, whom they most feared, and so hated—to be removed from the king, and imprisoned under an accusation of high treason; and frightened away the lord keeper of the great seal of England and one of the principal secretaries of state into foreign kingdoms for fear of the like, besides preparing all the lords of the council, and very many of the principal gentlemen throughout England, who had been sheriffs and deputy-lieutenants, to expect such measure of punishment from their general votes and resolutions as their future demeanour should draw upon them for their past offences." And thus ended the ever memorable year 1640, in which the parliament had secured the ascendancy after fifteen years determined struggle with the present king, and many more with his father; had humbled the proud and obstinate monarch; imprisoned his two arch-counsellors; impressed a salutary terror on the whole royal party; and initiated changes of the most stupendous kind.

The house of commons commenced the year 1641 with an endeavour to secure annual parliaments, and succeeded in obtaining triennial ones. They proposed that the issuing of the writs should take place at a fixed time, and to prevent the crown defeating this intention, they demanded, in case the king did not order the writs at the regular time, it should be imperative on the lord keeper or lord chancellor to do it; in case they neglected it, it should become the duty of the house of lords to do so; if the lords failed, then the sheriffs, and if the sheriffs neglected or refused, the people should proceed to elect their own representatives without any writs at all. To frustrate in future any hasty prorogations, by which the house of commons was liable at any moment to be stopped by the crown, they proposed that the king should not have power to prorogue or dissolve parliament within fifty days of its meeting without its own consent.

At one time Charles would have resented so bold a measure most indignantly, and would have dissolved the audacious body at once; but now he condescended to reason with them in a far different tone. He protested against the measure as a direct encroachment on his prerogative, by which sheriffs and constables were to be endowed with powers that hitherto had been only kingly; but he was fain at last to give way, and the bill, so far as regarded triennial parliaments, was passed, and a bill securing the houses from hasty prorogation followed in May. By that act Charles tied up his hands from dissolving parliament at all without its own consent, so that he could no longer defeat its measures as he had done. Thus a real and most momentous infringement on the prerogative was made, being brought about by the king's resistance to the cession of real rights. In obstinately claiming the people's privileges, he was driven to forfeit his own. He was now in a cleft-stick. The army of the Scots still lay in the north, and both the English commons and the Scottish commissioners in London were in no hurry to have it disbanded. Whilst it lay there well supported by parliamentary allowance, the king and his friends were overawed and powerless, and both parties, the commons of England and the covenanters of Scotland, were the better able to press their claims and support each other. Both parties were bent on abolishing or reducing episcopacy.

The Scottish commissioners exerted themselves with the leaders of the English commons to move for the thorough abolition of episcopacy in England, and the establishment of presbyterianism; but this led only to the development of a variety of views in the commons. Some of the members favoured the Scottish proposal, and of these were the supporters of the petition with fifteen thousand signatures, brought in from London by alderman Pennington, called the "root and branch petition." Others, as the lords "Wharton, Say, and Brooke, preferred the still more levelling system of the independents. On the other hand, some of the most prominent reformers, the lords Digby and Falkland, and Selden and Rudyard, were opposed to the extinction of the bishops. Digby compared the London petition to a comet portending nothing but anarchy, and with its tail pointing to the north, meaning that it was a Scottish comet; and lord Falkland was for relieving the bishops of their temporal cares, but not removing them from the church altogether. The question was warmly debated for two days, but the fate of the bishops was deferred awhile by that of Strafford.

The catholics, however, did not go without a fresh proof of the bitter hostility of the zealous puritans. There were great complaints sent from both houses about seminary priests remaining in the country contrary to the statutes, and especially ​of one Goodman, a priest, who had been condemned to death for merely being found living in England, having been reprieved by the king. Charles in vain told them he did not feel justified in putting a man to death solely for his religious; this was not regarded as an act of mercy, but as the of favour towards the catholics on account of the queen. The commons remonstrated on the 20th of January, and desired that Goodman might be left to the course of law.

Charles was sunk so low at this juncture, that he had no power to exercise the prerogative even to save an innocent man from the persecuting zeal of these religionists, who had not yet learnt that mutual toleration was one of the prime glories of Christianity. He gave up Goodman to their discretion, but sent them a petition which he had addressed to him, begging that he would not exercise himself to a breach with his subjects on his account, for he would willingly perish to preserve peace; and if he were the Jonah which caused the tempest, they might cast him out of the ship. Whether the man's magnanimity, or their own engrossment with other matters was the cause, they never proceeded to put the law in execution against him, but he was left to perish in prison.

The jealousy against the catholics was increased by the queen having a nuncio from the pope named Rosetti, residing with or near her, and by the residence of Mary de Medici, the queen's mother, also with her. Charles assured parliament that Rosetti was there merely in a private capacity, and in full accordance with her marriage articles, but that he should be given up. They could not demand that the queen's mother should be delivered up, too, for she was a refugee forced to fly hither from the ungrateful malice of Richelieu, whom she had raised to his unexampled power; and who is supposed to have aided the Scots the more cordially from his resentment of Charles affording her an asylum. And yet Mary de Medici was so bigoted a catholic, and had such a crew of insolent French priests with her, as occasioned great scandal, and revived the old nuisance in a great degree of Henrietta's own French retinue.

This was the more prominent, because at this time the Scotch commissioners were resitting in London, and were extremely active in endeavouring to proselyte the people to their rigid notions. "They resided," says Clarendon, "in the heart of the city, near London Stone, in a house which "used to be inhabited by the lord mayor, or one of the sheriffs, and was situated so near to the church of St. Antholins, a place in all times made famous by some seditious lecturer, that there was a way out of it into a gallery of the church. This benefit was well foreseen on all sides in the accommodation, and this church assigned to them for their own devotions, where one of their chaplains still preached, amongst which Alexander Henderson was the chief, who was likewise joined with them in the treaty in all matters which had reference to religion; and to hear those sermons there was so great an influx and resort by the citizens out of humour and faction; by others of all quality out of curiosity; and by some that they might the better justify the contempt they had of them; that from the first appearance of day in the morning on every Sunday, to the shutting in of the light, the church was never empty."

The throngs, and especially the women, continued there all day, and those who could not get in hung upon and about the windows. It was a novelty of no trifling description to the nonconformists thus to have free religious service without all the rites, ceremonies, and gaudy vestments which Laud had forced on them, at the same time that he strictly suppressed the conventicles. The earl of Rothes, the marquis of Hamilton, who was now playing his part of courting the people, and lord Loudon, whom Charles had liberated from the Tower, in order to conciliate the Scots, made themselves very agreeable, we are told, to the puritans, who, on their part, were in no hurry to be rid of the Scots, for, said Baillie, one of the deputies, "we make our negotiation long or short, as the necessities of our good friends in England require, for they are still in that fray, that if we and our army were gone, yet were they undone."

On the other hand, Charles was naturally anxious to be rid of the Scotch on that account. As we have seen, he had agreed to all their demands but the last. Their ships were to be restored, the acts of their late parliament confirmed, their castles to be in the hands of Scotchmen only, they were to enjoy their own religion, and they recovered by vote of the house of commons one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds for their expenses for five months, and three hundred thousand pounds for a "friendly relief for their losses and necessities." "Three hundred thousand pounds sterling," exclaims Baillie, "five million four hundred thousand merks Scots, is a pretty sum in our land." But when they came to the fourth article, that the punishment of what they called the incendiaries should be left to the two parliaments, he made a resolute stand. What they called incendiaries, were what he deemed his faithful servants, Laud, Wentworth, Traquair, &c. To give them up voluntarily, who had been the ministers of his own measures, he rightly deemed, would be an incredible dishonour to him. Still more difficult was the last clause, that which related to the establishment of a lasting peace betwixt the two nations, and this the Scots contrived to encumber with so many conditions, that there was no speedy prospect of agreeing upon it.

Defeated in this hope of clearing himself of the presence of the Scots, Charles began to try the effect of concessions to his own people. He knew that his recent exercise of the forest laws, and the immense extension of the forest boundaries, had made him very unpopular with the inhabitants of the country, and of many large proprietors; and he now sent an order to reduce the forests to their former dimensions. There was another measure by which he had formerly strengthened himself, that of winning over able and determined members of the opposition by honours and influence. Wentworth, Digges, Noyes, Finch, and others had been drawn over from the popular party, and had rendered him signal service. It was now proposed, and the marquis of Hamilton had the credit of the suggestion, to call the leading members of the opposition to the ministry, and thus convert them into friends. The first step was taken by appointing Bedford, Bristol, Hertford, Mandeville, Saville, and Say, of the privy council. But scarcely was this done, that they were accused of having become more courtly, and their zeal less fervent. This was, if true, a triumph to the king, and it ​was proposed next, to make Bedford the lord treasurer, Pym chancellor of the exchequer. Say master of the wards, in place of Cottington, and Denzell Hollis secretary of state, in place of Windebank. Hampden was also to have place, but what, was not decided. Essex, Kimbolton, and others, were to be included in this cabinet. None of these appointments, however, were brought to bear, except that of making Say master of the wards, Essex lord chamberlain, and Oliver St. John solicitor-general. Clarendon says that the obstacle was the prosecution of the earl of Strafford, for the chief end at the moment in nominating these leaders of the opposition to be ministers of the crown, was undoubtedly to save Strafford. To this, however, none of them would consent.

Many of them were already busy, as members of the select committee for preparing evidence for the trial of Strafford, in forwarding the impeachment. The committee consisted of Pym, Hampden, Hollis, Digby, Strode, Sir Walter Earl, Selden, St. John, Maynard, Palmer, Glynne, and Whitelock; and Hyde, Culpepper, and lord Falkland were assisting them to manage the conferences with the lords. No offers of honour or promotion, we may be assured, would draw Pym or Hampden from their determined object of punishing Laud and Strafford, and binding the king fast to the constitution.

All being prepared, Strafford was brought from the power on the 22nd of March, 1641, and placed before the tribunal appointed to try him in Westminster Hall. He had been about three months in prison, and meantime a deputation had arrived from Ireland, for no sooner was he arrested, than the Irish—who had been compelled to submit to his tyrannies and exactions, and even to sing his praises by placing a fine eulogium on the wisdom and moderation of his government on the journals of that parliament, in which he had by measures and arbitrary acts forced from them extraordinary votes of money—rose and denounced him as a traitor and cruel despot. Their deputation brought a petition, calling on the commons of England to join them in obtaining his condign punishment. They enumerated their grievances and sufferings from his lawless violence under sixteen heads. The commons welcomed the deputation, as may be supposed, and to secure full evidence of Strafford's doings in Ireland, not only accused his most active instrument, Sir George Ratcliffe, of high treason, too, but almost every one of his willing subordinates, and secured all of them that they could, and kept them in readiness to be questioned, by which means they also prevented them from doing mischief with the army. The Scottish commissioners were equally vehement in demanding justice against him for having counselled the king to put down their religion and government by force, and offering to supply an army of Irish for the purpose. Thus all three kingdoms were arrayed against the common enemy.

Charles, who had led him by his promises into the jaws of danger, now cast about with much anxiety how he was to save him. Amongst other projects, that of seeking aid from France through the queen was attempted. Henrietta thought if she could get personally to the king, her brother, she could win him over to aid them in this crisis; she therefore wrote to him, proposing to pay him a visit on the plea of seeking a restoration of her injured health in her native air. But there were too many and too powerful personages, on both sides of the water, interested in preventing this for her to succeed.

Here, the whole of the parliamentary opposition were too much alive to the consequences of such a scheme to readily permit it; and at Paris the cardinal Richelieu, through resentment against Charles for his support of Flanders and the Huguenots, was not the less opposed to the visit. The earl of Holland, who was gained over to his interest, gave him prompt notice of the intention, and he replied in the name of the king, that although he should always be most happy to see his royal sister, he could not advise her to absent herself from England for a day at this critical juncture.

After much debate, it had been concluded that the trial should take place in Westminster Hall, before the lords and commons. The earl of Arundel was appointed to preside as lord high steward. On each side of the throne was erected a cabinet, where the king, queen, and prince of Wales could sit without being seen, these cabinets having trellice work in front, and being hung with arras. Before the throne ran hues of seats for the peers, and woolsacks for the judges, and on each side of the peers were ranged seats for the commons, who consented to sit uncovered there. Near them were the Scotch and Irish deputies, and there was a desk or dock inclosed for the prisoner and his counsel. One-third of the hall was left open to the public, the rest being defended by a bar; and there was a gallery near for ladies, which was crowded by those of highest rank. There was an intense interest, indeed, felt by all classes, and the hall was daily so crowded, that Mr. Principal Baillie, minister of Kilwinning, whom we have already mentioned as one of the Scotch deputies, says, "We always behoved to be there before five in the morning: the house was full before seven."

Strafford was brought from the Tower guarded by a hundred soldiers, who filled, with the officers, six barges; and on landing at Westminster he was received and conducted forward by two hundred of the trained band. All cross streets and entries were occupied by a strong force of constables and watchmen, placed there as early as four in the morning. The king, queen, and prince arrived about nine o'clock, and about the same time the prisoner was conducted into the hall. On his appearance the porter demanded of the usher of the black rod, whether the axe should be borne before him; but the usher said no, the king had expressly forbidden it.

The bishops did not appear amongst the lords, for their presence had been strongly objected to by the house of commons, on the plea that the canons forbade their taking part in any trial which involved bloodshed—"clericus non debet interesse sangnini." But the real cause was, that they were such rabid supporters of Laud, who was the determined accomplice of the prisoner in all his assaults on the constitution; and Williams, of Lincoln, very politicly volunteered a motion as from the prelates themselves, that they should be excused. Tue commons had objected to those who had been made peers since Strafford had been impeached, as they were his avowed friends. All, except lord Littleton, who had been made a baron and lord keeper in the place of the fugitive Finch, refused to comply, and took their seats ​and sate; and so says Clarendon, might the bishops, too, had they had the same spirit.

All being ready, the impeachment was read, consisting of twenty-eight capital articles, and then Strafford's reply to it, which filled two hundred sheets of paper. This occupied the first day. The court rose about two o'clock, and the prisoner was reconducted to the Tower. This was the routine of each day during the trial, which lasted eighteen days. On entering the court at nine o'clock, Strafford made three obeisances to the earl of Arundel, the high steward, two of which might be interpreted as intended for the king and queen, though they were not at first visible, nor during the whole time were supposed to be so; but the interest of the proceedings quickly made the king impatient of the trellice work, and, according to Baillie, he pulled it down with his own hands. "It was daily the most glorious assembly," continues Baillie, "that the isle could afford; yet the gravity was not such as I expected. After ten, much public eating, not only of confections, but of flesh and bread; bottles of beer and wine going thick from mouth to mouth without cups, and all this in the king's eye. . . . There was no outgoing to return, and often the sitting was till two, three, or four o'clock at night."

As Strafford went and came, the crowd conducted themselves towards him with forbearance and courtesy, and he returned their greetings with humility and politeness. Few of the lords at first returned his obeisances, and the managers, thirteen in number, showed him no favour. When the lord steward ordered the committee of management to proceed on the second morning, Pym opened the proceedings with an eloquent charge, commencing with these words;—"My lords, we stand here by the commandment of the knights, citizens, and burgesses, now assembled for the commons in parliament, and we are ready to make good that impeachment whereby Thomas, earl of Strafford, who stands charged in their name, and in the name of all the commons of England, with high treason. This, my lords, is a great cause, and we might sink under the weight of it, and be astonished with the lustre of this noble assembly, if there were not in the cause strength and vigour to support itself, and to encourage us. It is the cause of the king: it concerns his majesty in the honour of his government, in the safety of his person, in the stability of his crown. It is the cause of the kingdom: it concerns not only the peace and prosperity, but even the being of the kingdom. We have that piercing eloquence, the cries, and groans, and tears of all the subjects assisting us. We have the three kingdoms, England, and Scotland, and Ireland, in travail and agitation with us, bowing themselves, like the hinds spoken of in Job, to cast out their sorrows. Truth and goodness, my lords, they are the beauty of the soul, they are the perfection of all created natures, they are the image and character of God upon the creatures. This beauty, evil spirits and evil men have lost; but yet there are none so wicked, but they desire to march under the show and shadow of it, though they hate the reality of it. This unhappy earl, now the object of your lordships' justice, hath taken as much care, hath used as much cunning, to set a face and countenance of honesty in the performance of all these actions. My lords, it is the greatest baseness of wickedness, that it dares not look in its own colour, nor be seen in its natural countenance. But virtue, as it is amiable in all aspects, so the least is not this, that it puts a nobleness, it puts a bravely upon the mind, and lifts it above hopes and fears, above favour and displeasure: it makes it always uniform and constant to itself. The service commanded to me and my colleagues, is to take off those vizards of truth and uprightness, which hath been sought to be put upon this cause, and to show you his actions and intentions in their own natural blackness and deformity."

Pym, after this exordium, went seriatim through the pleas of Strafford in his reply, and rent away ruthlessly the arguments by which he endeavoured to veil the flagrancy of his actions; but he dwelt for this time more especially on his conduct in Ireland, representing him there as treading on all the rights, privileges, and property of the people in a manner utterly regardless of any constitution or compacts. He then produced as witnesses Sir Pierce Crosby, Sir John Clotworthy, lord Ranelagh, lord Mountnorris, and Mr. Barnwell, who had suffered insult, loss of office, and honour from his overbearing despotism. To this Strafford replied in a long and able speech. The subject of Ireland was resumed the next day, and then from day to day. After the managers had gone through some particular charge, and produced their witnesses, the court adjourned for half an hour, when Strafford made his defence and produced his witnesses, the managers commented on the evidence, and the court closed for the day. Thus it went on for thirteen days. "All the hasty and proud expressions that he had uttered at any time," says Clarendon, "since he was first made a privy councillor; all the acts of passion or power that he had exercised in Yorkshire, from the time that he was first president there; his engaging himself in projects in Ireland, as the sole making of flax and selling tobacco in that kingdom; his extraordinary proceedings against lord Mountnorris and the lord chancellor Loftus; his assuming a power of judicature at the council table to determine private interest, and matter of inheritance; some rigorous and extrajudicial determinations in cases of plantations; some high discourses at the council-table in Ireland; and some casual and light discourses at his own table and at public meetings; and, lastly, some words spoken in secret council in this kingdom, after the dissolution of the List parliament, were urged and pressed against him to make good the general charge of an endeavour to overthrow the fundamental government of the kingdom, and to introduce an arbitrary power."

"In his defence," continues the same historian, " the earl behaved himself with great show of humility and submission, but yet with such a kind of courage, as would lose no advantage; and, in truth, made his defence with all imaginable dexterity, answering this and evading that with all possible skill and eloquence; and though he knew not till he came to the bar upon what parts of his charge they would proceed against him, or what evidence they would produce, he took very little time to recollect himself, and left nothing unsaid that might make for his own justification."

Though this is the language of the royalist historian, it is ​borne out by all accounts of this extraordinary trial. Strafford was one of the most eloquent, able, and imposing men of any age. His commanding person, and persuasive and impressive manner, had made his influence paramount wherever he had appeared. He had the faculty vastly developed of making the worse appear the better reason; and never had his splendid talents been so successfully displayed as on this great occasion, when all the ability, the patriotism, and the elocution of the time were arrayed against him. The very weight and vastness of the opposition bearing upon him, acted in his favour. There he stood, alone, as it were, against the three kingdoms, dauntless, and unsubdued; laden with growing infirmities, and the deadly hatred of innumerable hosts, yet disdaining to succumb to them; and with a readiness of wit, a promptness of reply, an adroitness of application or of evasion, a keenness of ridicule, a weight of reason, and a rich eloquence, that raised admiration even in those who most loathed him. He sympathies of the ladies were every day more and more enlisted in his cause

They were seen—those of the highest rank—taking notes, discussing the proceedings, and discovering their vivid interest in him by a thousand signs. The courtiers were enraptured; the lords, even the sternest, rapidly relaxed, and at length were almost all on his side. The clergy wore unanimous in their plaudits of him, and the managers saw with dismay a change which threatened their defeat.

​Maynard and Glynne, two acute lawyers, were the managers who chiefly brought forward the accusations, and directed the evidence against him; but they appeared no match for Stratford's intellect and address. They endeavoured to establish a charge of constructive treason, that is, of treason not founded on one clear and palpable act, but on accumulated evidence, the aggregate of many offences; but the prisoner's answer to this was triumphant.

They had not his letters, which we have; and though they could point to a long course of arbitrary and unconstitutional conduct, amounting to high misdemeanours, they could not lay their fingers on the damning proofs of his avowed intentions under his own hand, as we now can in the Strafford Papers. But even had they possessed these, it would still have been technically impossible to establish a charge of high treason according to any definitions of law, or any ideas of treason then existing. All the statutes of high treason had heretofore been directed against designs or attempts to injure or remove the king, or any of his family; to subvert the government, or change the possession of the crown. That there might be such a thing as treason against the people and their rights; against the kingdom, as well as the king; so entirely had royal rights occupied attention; so little had the rights of subjects been regarded; that this, the highest of all possible treasons, had never come into governing heads. It was now the fate of these ministers, and of their master, to make that crime patent to the world and all its ages.

In vain would Pym or Selden then search Coke upon Littleton, or the statutes at large, for any definition of a treason that would serve them. The statute of 25 Edward III. c. 2 was the great landmark of English history in those matters, and amongst the seven distinct declarations of treasonable offences, they would look in vain for one to fit Wentworth. 1. "If a man doth compass the death of our lord the king, or of our lady his queen, or of their eldest son and heir." 2. "If a man do violate the king's companion, or the king's eldest daughter unmarried, or the wife of the king's eldest son and heir." 3. "If a man do levy war against the lord our king in his realm " 4. "If a man be adhered to the king's enemies, giving them aid or comfort in his realm or elsewhere." 5. "If a man counterfeit the king's great or privy seal." 6. "If a man counterfeit the king's money, or bring false money into the kingdom," &c. 7. "If a man slay the chancellor, treasurer, or the king's justices of the one bench or the other, justices in eyre, or justices of assize, and ​all other justices assigned to hear and determine, being in their places during their office."

In these seven clauses lay all the law of high treason at that day, and against none of these most assuredly had Strafford offended. He was working with the king and his officers; his acts and intentions pointed in a totally different direction. His object was to strengthen the king's government beyond all precedent; to make him, as we now have it under his own hand, the most absolute and independent monarch that ever lived. True, from the reign of Henry IV. to that of queen Mary, many other species of high treason had been created by the crown, and especially by Henry VIII., such as clipping money; burning houses to extort money; stealing cattle by Welshmen; wilful poisoning; execrating the king; allowing the king to marry a woman that was not a maid, and not telling that piece of unpleasant news; refusing to abjure the pope; believing Henry VIII. to have been lawfully married to Anne of Cleves; impugning his supremacy; or not dispersing when assembled to the number of twelve upon proclamation. But in none of these reigns, when almost every imaginable or unimaginable thing affecting kingship was made treason, it had ever entered the royal or legal head to conceive a treason against the people. Therefore, had all these descriptions of treason been yet existent, none of them would have availed against Strafford, who was most loyal to the king and his government, but an arrant traitor to the people. All these kinds of treason, however, had been abrogated by the statute 1 Mary c. 1, leaving only, as before, the seven kinds of Edward III, and which statute yet remains the great statute of treason, with the addition since, of another clause for the defence of the protestant succession of the house of Hanover.

On this ground, therefore, Strafford stood strong; and his lawyer, a Mr. Lane, argued thus upon the famous statute of Edward III., declaring that nothing was treason that was not comprehended in that statute. That the foundation on which the impeachment was laid, that of "endeavouring to overthrow the fundamental laws of the kingdom, and to introduce an arbitrary power," was wholly erroneous and untenable; and this was held to be good law by the most celebrated lawyers of the time. "With regard to this crime," they said, "an endeavour to subvert the fundamental laws, the statute of treasons is totally silent." Strafford, therefore, boldly told them that he did not deny but that he might have committed misdemeanours, nor, were they proved, would he complain of being punished for them; but he denied that their cumulative evidence could any more make one treason, than twenty non-entities could make one entity. "There is no treason in this; and when one thousand misdemeanours will not make one felony, shall twenty-eight misdemeanours heighten it to a treason?"

The matter was too palpable to be denied, but at this crisis an event occurred which gave fresh hope to the accusers. The younger Sir Henry Vane communicated to Pym a paper which he had discovered in the cabinet of his father, the secretary of state. The account which he gave of the occurrence, according to Whitelock, was this;—That his father being out of town, sent him the key of his study, desiring him to search for some papers which he wanted. That in this search he came upon one paper of such extraordinary contents, that tie held himself bound in duty to secure them. The paper was a minute of what had passed in the privy council on the morning of the day on which the last parliament had been dissolved. The question before the council was offensive or defensive war with the Scots. The king said, "How can I undertake a war without money?"

And Strafford was made to reply, "Borrow one hundred thousand pounds of the city. Go rigorously on to levy ship-money. Your majesty having tried the affections of your people, you are absolved and loosed from all rules of government, and may do what power will admit. Having tried all ways, you shall be acquitted before God and man. You have an army in Ireland, which you may employ to reduce this kingdom to obedience, for I am confident the Scots cannot hold out five mouths." Laud and Cottington declared with equal violence that the king was absolved from all law.

Pym, having obtained from young Vane a copy of this paper, on the 10th of April informed' the commons of the fact. After hearing it read. Vane the younger rose and confirmed the relation, excusing himself on the ground that it had appeared his bounden duty to make the matter known, and that Mr Pym had confirmed him in this opinion. After giving Mr Pym the copy, he had returned the original paper to its proper place in the cabinet. Sir Henry Vane, the father, here rose, and remarked, with much sign of resentment against his son, that he now saw whence all this mischief came, and that he could give no particulars of this farther, but found himself in an ill condition from its testimony.

On the 12th, charge was made against Strafford in court, who replied that old Vane was his most inveterate enemy, I and that, as was most probable, if he had delivered this paper to his son, he had been guilty of a most unpardonable breach of his oath as a privy councillor, to preserve the king's secrets; and was, therefore, totally unworthy of credit. That he had been strictly examined on what passed at that council, and at first denied all memory of any such words spoken by him, Strafford, on that occasion; and even on his third examination, after having been shown this paper, he had only recollected he had spoken these words, or some like them. That such words and such council were not likely to be soon forgotten; yet, of eight privy councillors then present, none of those whose evidence could be obtained could remember any such words, except the earl of Northumberland, who thought he recollected such words as those—of being absolved from all rules of government. The archbishop of Canterbury and Windebank were not present to give their evidence; but the marquis of Hamilton, the bishop Juxton, and lord Cottington, could remember no such words. Even had he used the words, it depended much on whether the phrase "this kingdom" meant England or Scotland; that the country under debate was Scotland, and he had demanded of Vane, whether the word used was really "this" or "that." And further, could the authority of this paper be established, it would not establish a charge of treason, for the law demanded the evidence of two witnesses, and this was but the evidence of one.

​Pym therefore put in the verified copy of the paper, for the paper itself having been laid on the table of the committee of the commons, had been purloined, and was never afterwards recovered. That in the possession of Charles was in the handwriting of Digby, which brought him under suspicion. Pym contended that the evidence of the minute itself, and that of Sir Henry Vane, amounted to the required proofs of the law, being two witnesses against the earl. The lord steward, Arundel, then called on Strafford to say whether he had any observations to make on this additional proof, and he replied most eloquently, demanding:—

"Where has this species of guilt lain so long concealed? Where has this fire been so long buried during so many centuries, that no smoke should appear till it burst out at once, to consume me and my children? Better it were to live under no law at all, than to fancy we have a law on which we can rely, and find at last that this law preceded its promulgation, and try us by maxims unheard of till the moment of the prosecution. If I sail on the Thames, and split my vessel on an anchor, in case there be no buoy to give warning, the party shall pay me damages; but if the anchor be marked out, then is the striking on it at my own peril. But where is the mark set upon this crime? Where the token by which I should discover it?

"It is now full two hundred and forty years since treasons were defined, and so long has it been since any man was touched to this extent upon this crime before myself. We have lived, my lords, happily to ourselves at home; we have lived gloriously abroad in the world; let us be content with what our fathers have left us; let not an ambition carry us to be more learned than they were in these killing and destructive acts. My lords, be pleased to give that regard to the peerage of England, as never to expose yourselves to such moot points, such constructive interpretations of law. If there must be a trial of wits, let the subject matter be of somewhat else than the lives and honours of peers. It will be wisdom for yourselves, for your posterity, and for the whole kingdom, to cast into the fire these bloody and mysterious volumes of constructive and arbitrary treason, as the primitive Christians did their books of curious arts, and betake yourselves to the plain letter of the statute, which tells you where the crime is, and points out the path by which you may avoid it.

"Let us not, to our own destruction, awake these sleeping lions, by raking up a company of old records which have lain for so many ages by the wall, forgotten and neglected. To all my afflictions, add not this, my lords, the most severe of any, that I for my other sins—not for my treasons—be the means of introducing a precedent so pernicious, that in a few years the kingdom will be in the condition expressed in a statute of Henry IV., that no man shall know by what rule to govern his words and actions. These gentlemen at the bar say that they speak for the commonwealth against my arbitrary acts, and they believe so; but under favour, it is I who speak for the commonwealth against their arbitrary treason.

"Impose not, my lords, difficulties insurmountable upon ministers of state, nor disable them, after serving with cheerfulness their king and country. If you examine them. and under such severe penalties, by every grain, by every little weight, the scrutiny will be intolerable. The public affairs of this kingdom must be left waste, and no wise man, who has any honour or fortune to lose, will ever engage himself in such dreadful such unknown perils.

"My lords, I have now troubled your lordships a great deal longer than I should have done, were it not for the interest of these pledges which a saint in heaven left me. I should be loth "here he pointed to his children, and his weeping stopped him. "What I forfeit for myself is nothing, but that my indiscretion should extend to my posterity, I confess, wounds me very deeply. You will be pleased to pardon my importunity. Something I should have said, but I see I shall not be able, and therefore I shall leave it. And now, my lords, I thank God that I have been by his blessing sufficiently instructed in the vanity of all temporary enjoyments, compared to the importance of an eternal duration. And so, my lords, even so with all tranquillity of mind, I submit clearly and freely to your judgment; and whether that righteous doom shall be life or death, I shall repose myself, full of gratitude and confidence, in the arms of the great Author of my existence—'In te Domiiic confudo: non confundar in æternum.'

What the effect of this address must have been on the audience generally, may be inferred from the observations of Whitelock, the chairman of the committee which was conducting the prosecution:—"Certainly, never any man acted such a part on such a theatre, with more wisdom, constancy, and eloquence; with greater reason, judgment, and temper; and with a better grace in all his words and actions, than did this great and excellent person, so that he moved the hearts of all his auditors, some few excepted, to remorse and pity."

The commons were alarmed at the effect of the trial. The production of Vane's paper had been a blow enough to have sunk another man, but the extraordinary eloquence and address of Strafford seemed to have effaced even that; they had little faith in procuring a verdict from the lords in their present course, and they resolved to change their plan, and proceed against the offender by a bill of attainder. They have been accused of adopting the arbitrary measures of Henry VIII. in so doing, and of depriving Strafford of the fair influence of his trial; but we, who enjoy the benefit of their deed, ought not to join in that cry. Strafford was guilty, if ever man was, of the most atrocious attempt that a man can entertain—that of destroying the liberties of his country. The laws had been so framed, from royal bias, as not duly to designate his crime; but not for that, nor for any temporary feeling of pity raised by his admirable defence, did these patriots mean to allow of his escape.

There were, moreover, other causes which made the commons press on the punishment of Strafford. The discovery had been made that the king and courtiers were contriving the escape of the prisoner from the Tower. The scheme was, that a hundred and twenty soldiers should be introduced into the fortress, where, there being no other guard than the servants of the lieutenant, they would be able to take possession, and effect the earl's escape; or they might, by the king's order, remove him to another prison, and admit of his escape by the way. Vessels were in ​readiness to convey him from the coast, and all means prepared for his getting on board. But the whole of this scheme failed from the intervention of one honest man. This was Balfour, the lieutenant. In contemplation of great crimes in former days, the king had suddenly changed the lieutenant; but such an act now would have created instant suspicion, and roused the whole city. The king therefore sent the warrant for the removal of Strafford; but Balfour refused to obey it, though tempted by royal promises, and by Strafford with a bribe of twenty thousand pounds, and an advantageous match for his daughter. The honest officer listened to the lure with contempt, and the plot was at an end. But another was speedily substituted in its place. This was a plan to march the army at York suddenly to London, and thus take forcible possession of the prisoner. Advantage was taken of the discontent of the troops on account of the arrears of their pay remaining undischarged, whilst the Scotch army was amply supplied, and agents were sent down to tamper with the officers at York. These appear to have fallen readily into the proposition, and a petition was sent to the king from the officers, representing that as there were vast quantities of malignants collected in London, who were followed by vast multitudes, they deemed it expedient, for the safety of his majesty's person and of parliament, that the ringleaders should be seized and punished, and they offered to march up and do it. Charles not only accepted this petition, but, at the request of the officers, put his initials to it, in testimony of his sanction of their proposal. The petition itself may be seen in Clarendon.

But this plot also failed, through the quarrels of the two leading officers in the management—colonel Goring and Percy, the brother of the earl of Northumberland. Jermyn, the queen's favourite, whom she married after the king's death, was sent down to reconcile them, but did not succeed, and Goring, in his exasperation against Percy, revealed the whole plot to the earl of Bedford, lord Saye, and lord Kimbolton.

Mr. Hyde was sent by the commons to the peers, to inform them of these conspiracies. The Scotch commissioners were clamorous for his conviction, and the city of London refused to lend any more money to parliament till that was secured. But in the house of commons the bill of attainder met with unexpected opposition from one of the most zealous of the reformers, lord Digby. He saw, like the rest, that technically they could not condemn Strafford for high treason as the law then stood, and he feared the precedent of condemning men under a show of law that did not exist. It was, in fact, too much imitating the king. It was a real difficulty, which the patriots had not sufficiently foreseen. Instead of charging him with treason, as it was then defined, they should first have remodelled the law, or have charged Strafford with the violation of the national guarantee of Magna Charta, on which there could be no doubt, and for which he was well worthy of death; but it was too late to retrace their steps, and they were obliged to condemn him for the unquestionable crime of treason against the nation, making the act of the legislature in all its branches an extension of the law. Digby himself did not question his guilt. He said "he believed him still that grand apostate to the commonwealth, who must not expect to be pardoned in this world till he be despatched to the other;" but he pleaded that on the ground of law he should have his life spared. But the commons knew that whilst he lived there was no security. On the first occasion the king would pardon and restore him, and all their labour would be thrown away. They sought, therefore, to erect parliament, in so great an emergency, into a court of equity as well as of law, believing that what was decreed by both houses, and had the sanction of the crown, was and would be a law of itself. They did not, like the Tudors and the Stuarts, seek to condemn him by setting aside the established courts and trial by jury; they gave him the highest court in the realm, and a full trial by his peers, and by their bill they now called for a verdict.

But that verdict was not obtained without a great struggle. In the commons it was warmly debated, and it was not till the eleventh day, the 21st of April, that it was carried by a vast majority. Only fifty-four, or, according to Whitelock, fifty-nine members voted against the bill, and the next morning the names of these were placarded in the streets as "Straffordians," who, to allow a traitor to escape, would betray their country. The lords, who had been greatly influenced by Strafford's speeches, and his confident exposition of the law, displayed no alacrity to pass the bill of attainder through their house; but they soon found themselves exposed to the pressure from without. The nation had made up its mind to the punishment of the man who had advised the king to reduce them to the condition of serfs; and the lords could not appear anywhere without being pursued by cries of "Justice! justice on the traitor!"

They surrounded the parliament house in vast crowds, uttering the same demands, and a petition was carried up from the city, signed by many thousands. The country was terrified by rumours of insurrections and invasions, which were made plausible by the army plot, and the court preparations for rescuing and getting away Strafford. There is also clear evidence from the despatches of Rosetti, who was in the confidence of the queen, that the king had ordered the fortifications of Portsmouth to be strengthened; and the command of the fortress was given to Goring, that he might have a place of retreat if he was obliged to quit London, and an opening for the landing of troops from France or Holland, whom he might prevail on to come to his assistance.

In carrying up the bill to the lords, the attorney-general, St. John, had endeavoured to get rid of the legal objections to the death of Strafford, by saying that laws were made for the protection of the peaceable and the innocent, not for those who broke all law for the destruction of the people. That we gave law to deer and hares, but knocked on the head wolves or foxes wherever we found them. This was a dangerous doctrine, and did not at all mend the matter; he did not see that the real strength and justification of the case was in all the three branches of the legislature interpreting the law as extending to the state and constitution altogether, and by their united act rendering it law—a precedent infinitely more valid than such as are acted on every day—the dicta of ordinary judges.

In the meantime, the anxiety and perplexity of the king ​became excruciating. He had clearly, by his confident assertions of protection, drawn Strafford into the snare, and if the lords passed the bill, how was he, by his own decayed authority, to defend him? He had previously sought the aid of the earl of Bedford, who was the most influential of the peers, and promised him the disposal of all the great offices of state, on condition that Strafford's life should be spared. Bedford had accepted it, but just at this crisis he fell sick and died. Clarendon says, that from his own knowledge, it was the plan of Bedford to give the king the excise as a settled source of income, and thus extricate him out of all his troubles, the very thing which we shall find was afterwards granted to his son, Charles II. On Bedford's death, lord Saye accepted the same position on the same terms; and it is asserted by Clarendon that it was by his advice that Charles now took a step that proved very fatal. He proceeded to the house of lords on the 1st of May, whilst the bill of attainder was still before it, and calling for the commons, informed them that having, as they knew, been constantly present at the trial of Stafford, he was perfectly familiar with all that had been advanced on both sides, and that the serious conclusion at which he had arrived was, that he was not guilty of treason, and, therefore, in his conscience, he could not condemn him if the bill were passed and came to him. "It was not," he said, "for him to argue the matter with them; his place was to utter a single decision. But," he continued, "I must tell you three great truths:— First, I never had any intention of bringing over the Irish army into England, nor ever was advised by any one to do so. Second, there never was any debate before me, either in public council or private committee, of the disloyalty or disaffection of my English subjects. Third, I was never counselled by any to alter the least of any of the laws of England, much less alter all the laws."

After the long breach of the law that the king shall not levy taxes without consent of parliament; after the long exercise of the arbitrary power of the Star-chamber and the High Court mission Court, where Magna Charta was utterly set aside; after the brandings, the lopping off of ears, the slitting of noses, and the fining and imprisonment of the subject at the king's pleasure, these assertions show how utterly regardless of truth this king was. He then admitted that Strafford was guilty of great misdemeanours. "Therefore," he said, "I hope you may find some middle way to satisfy justice and your own fears, and not to press upon my conscience. My lords, I hope you know what a tender thing conscience is. To satisfy my people I would do great matters, but in this of conscience, no fear, no respect whatever, shall ever make me go against it. Certainly, I have not so ill-deserved of the parliament this time, that they should press me on this tender point." He proposed that Strafford should be rendered incapable hereafter of holding any place of trust or honour under the crown.

But the very declarations which he had made in this address were so untrue, that so long as Strafford lived, every one must have felt there was no security against his return to power. The commons, however, took up the matter in another manner. On their return to their own house—the king had not recognised their presence by a single observation in the other—they instantly passed a resolution, declaring the king's interference with any bill before either house of parliament, a most flagrant abuse of their privileges. This was Saturday, and the next day the ministers, Scotch and puritan, took up the subject in their pulpits, and roused their hearers to a sense of their danger, only to be averted by the death of the arch-traitor. On Monday the population poured out in a vast concourse, and directed their way towards Westminster. Six thousand infuriated people surrounded the houses of parliament, armed with clubs and staves, crying out for justice on the prisoner.

At this moment Pym was haranguing the house of commons on the discovery of the plot to debauch the army, and informing them, moreover, that there was already a strong body of French troops assembled on the opposite coasts. That it was declared to be their intention to take possession of Jersey and Guernsey, and to land at Portsmouth. This was so far true that Montague, a favourite of the queen's, had been despatched to the French court, a fleet had assembled on the coast of Bretagne, and an army in Flanders. Montreuil had endeavoured to convince the popular leaders, through the earl of Holland, that the army was destined for the war in the Netherlands, and the fleet to protect the coasts of Portugal. Their being so near their country, however, was sufficient to justify the popular suspicion, and the public excitement continued to increase. Montague was advised to seek his safety by flight, and the queen was so terrified, that she ordered her carriages to Whitehall to flee to Portsmouth. The lords, however, prevented this by a remonstrance to the king, and thereby probably saved the queen's life from the enraged mob; for it was now that the disclosures of colonel Goring of the army plot became public.

Pym seized the opportunity of this occurrence to press on the commons a resolution to the effect that the seaports should be closed, and that the king should command that neither the queen, the prince, nor any person attending upon his majesty, should leave London without the permission of the king, acting on the advice of his parliament. This was passed, and Pym then called on them to make a solemn protestation, after the manner of the Scottish covenant, which should be taken by the whole house, binding them by a vow, in the presence of God, to maintain and defend his majesty's royal person and estate, as well as the power and privileges of parliament, the lawful rights and liberties of the subject, the peace and union of the three kingdoms against all plots, conspiracies, and evil practices, and that neither hope, fear, nor any other respect, should induce them to relinquish this promise, vow, and protestation. It was instantly signed by the speaker, and by every member present.

The commons next addressed a letter to the army in the north, assuring them that, notwithstanding the attempts to corrupt them, parliament relied on their fidelity, and would take care to furnish their pay. They ordered the forces in Wiltshire and Hampshire to advance nearer to Portsmouth, and those in Kent and Sussex to draw towards Dover, and declared any man advising the introduction of foreign troops to be an enemy to his country. These resolutions they despatched with the protestation to the upper house by ​Denzell Hollis, calling on the whole house to subscribe to the protestation. The next morning, being the 4th of May, the lords desired a conference with the commons, and informed them of a message from the king, desiring that the intimidation of the mobs might be withdrawn, that the deliberation of the parliament might be free; and as the peers proposed to take the protestation unanimously, Dr. Burgess, a popular complete preacher, was sent out to inform the people of this and to desire that they would peaceably withdraw to their own homes. The crowds, on this assurance, melted rapidly away. The protestation was then sent out to be subscribed by the whole nation, as the covenant had been in Scotland, and with the intimation that any one declining to adopt it should be looked upon as an enemy to his country. To their security, the commons passed a bill that parliament should on no account be dissolved without the consent of both houses.

The next day, on a false alarm that the house of commons was in danger, the trained bands, headed by colonel Mainwaring, marched with beat of drum to Westminster; it proved an unnecessary caution, but one that convinced the peers and the king that any resistance to the commons, backed by the public, was useless. The very next day the news was circulated in parliament, that six or eight dangerous conspirators had fled, amongst them Jermyn, the queen's favourite, and Percy, both members of the commons, and that the queen was still bent, if opportunity could be found, of escaping too. On the following day, May 7th, ​

​the peers voted by a majority, that the fifteenth and nineteenth charges against Strafford were proved, namely, that he had quartered soldiers on the peaceable inhabitants of Ireland contrary to law, and had imposed on his own authority an illegal oath on all Scotchmen living in that country. Thereupon they consulted the judges, who unanimously decided that Strafford deserved to suffer the pains and penalties of treason. The catholics kept away from the house, because they would not take the protestation, and therefore took no part in Strafford's condemnation. The bill was passed by a majority of twenty-six to nineteen. The following morning, May 8th, the bill of attainder was read a fourth time and passed; and at the same time the lords also passed the commons' bill against the dissolution of parliament.

Charles was now reduced to a pitiable condition. On the one hand, he had solemnly pledged himself, both to Strafford and to parliament, never to consent to the earl's death; but, on the other hand, the two houses had pronounced against him, and the public was waiting with impatience for his ratification of the sentence. He had lately seen the ominous assemblage of the people, and the march of the city bands to support parliament; the Scots still lay in the north, waiting with fierce desire for the fall of their enemy; one signal, and the whole country would be in a blaze. The bill was passed on Saturday, and perhaps never was a Sunday spent by any man, or any house, in so dreadful a state as that passed by Charles and his family. The only alternative left him was to summon his privy council, and submit to them his difficulty. But from them he derived very little comfort. The members in general urged on him the necessity of complying with the demand of both houses of parliament, and the manifest desire of the public, who were again loudly declaring that they would have either the head of Strafford or the king's. The bishops strongly urged the same arguments: the terror of the parliament and public was upon them.

Williams, the old bishop of Lincoln, who had been treated with stern severity by both Strafford and Laud, told the king when he talked of his conscience, that there was a public as well as a private conscience; that he had discharged his private conscience by doing all in his power to save the earl, and he might now exercise his public conscience by conceding to the decision of his parliament. That the question now was not about saving Strafford, but about saving himself, his queen, and family. Honest Juxton, bishop of London, alone had the courage to tell him boldly not to consent to the shedding of the blood of a man that in his conscience he felt to be innocent. Usher of Armagh, Morton of Durham, and another bishop, advised him to be guided by the opinion of the judges. The judges being then asked, repeated their judgment that the case, as put to them by the lords, amounted to treason. Thus borne down by all parties, Charles reluctantly gave way, and late in the evening, though he would not directly sign his assent to the bill, he signed a commission to several lords to give the assent. Even in this last act his friends endeavoured to console him with the assurance that " his own hand was not in it." It was a miserable subterfuge, for the deed was equally valid, and he executed it with tears, declaring the condition of Stratford happier than bis own.

The day of execution was fixed for Wednesday, the 12th of May, and on Monday, the 10th, the commission to this effect passed the great seal. But still Charles could not give up the hope of saving the unhappy man. He sent to the two houses to inform them that he would instantly disband the Irish army; and the next morning, having appeared to have made a favourable impression on the commons, who had returned a very flattering message, he sent the prince of Wales to the house of lords with a letter, once more imploring them to consult with the commons, and grant him "the unspeakable contentment" of changing the sentence of the earl to perpetual imprisonment, never to interfere in his favour; and if the earl should ever seek his liberty, especially by any application to himself, his life should be forfeited. If, however, it could not be done with satisfaction to the people, he said "fiat Juslitia." In a postscript, said to be added at the suggestion of the queen, he added the fatal words, "If he must die, it were charity to reprieve him till Saturday;" words which seemed to imply that, though he asked, he really did not hope to save him. Nothing, however, could have saved him. The house, after reading the letter twice, and after "sad and serious consideration," sent a deputation to inform him that neither of the requests could be complied with.

Though Charles, who has been so often styled "the martyr," was not martyr enough to sacrifice himself for his friend and devoted servant, it is but justice to observe that no man ever showed more faithful attachment to his favourites and ministers. He never would desert Buckingham; he did not give up Strafford or Laud without a severe struggle; and had he been as faithful to his subjects as to his friends, no better or happier monarch could have reigned. Strafford, on the previous Tuesday, hearing of the king's extreme agitation and trouble on his account, had sent him a letter, which bore on its face the marks of a grand magnanimity. He informed him, that the hearing of the king's unwillingness to pass the bill, on the ground that he did not believe him guilty, and of the excitement of the people against him on that account, had brought him into a great strait. 'That the ruin of his family on the one side, and fear of injury to the king on the other, had greatly troubled him. That to say that there had not been a great strife in him, would be to say that he was not made of flesh and blood. Yet considering that the chief thing was the prosperity of the realm and the king, he had, with a natural sadness, come to the conclusion to desire the king to let matters take their course rather than incur the ills that refusing to sign the bill might bring on his sacred majesty. "Sire," he continued, "my consent shall more acquit you herein to God, than all the world can do besides. To a willing mind there is no injury done; and as, by God's grace, I forgive all the world with a calmness and meekness of infinite contentment to my dislodging soul, so, sire, to you I can give the life of this world with all the cheerfulness imaginable, in the just acknowledgment of your exceeding favours, and only beg that in your goodness you would vouchsafe to cast your gracious regard upon my poor son and his three sisters, less or more, and not other-wise than as their unfortunate father may hereafter appear more or less guilty of this death. God long preserve your majesty."

​It were hard and ungracious, indeed, to attribute any insincerity or interested motive to a devotion so nobly expressed, had not the author's own deed too plainly justified it. But as Baillie deprives his fine defence of one of its most beautiful effects, that of appealing to the saint in heaven who had left him his children, by assuring us that he actually occasioned the death of this saint by striking her on the breast in his anger when, in a state of pregnancy, she discovered a letter of his mistress, and bringing it to him, upbraided him with it; so we fear, on this occasion, he was but acting this exalted part. Whitelock assures us that the king sent Carleton to him, to inform him that he had been compelled to pass the bill, and adding that he had been the more reconciled to it by his willingness to die. On hearing this, Strafford started up from his chair, lifted up his eyes to heaven, laid his hand upon his heart, and said, "Put not your trust in princes, nor in the sons of men, for in them there is no salvation." Strafford was a great actor, and had probably been calculating on a similar letter by Goodman three months before, which was supposed to have saved his life.

The night before the day fixed for his execution, archbishop Usher visited the prisoner, who begged him to go to his fellow-prisoner, archbishop Laud, and beg his prayers for him that night, and his blessing when ho should go forth in the morning. He had in vain endeavoured to persuade the lieutenant Balfour to permit him to have an interview with the fallen prelate. In the morning, when let out to the scaffold, on approaching the window of the archbishop's prison, he begged the lieutenant to allow him to make his obeisance towards the prelate's room, though he could not see him himself.

Laud, however, was on the watch, and putting forth his hands from his window, bestowed his blessing. That was all that his weakness and his emotion permitted. He sank, overcome with his grief, to the floor. Strafford made a profound obeisance, and the procession moved on. But after a few steps the earl turned round again, bowed to the ground once more, saying, "Farewell, my lord! God protect your innocence!" Then proceeding again, he assumed a lofty and dignified air, more even than was usual to him. At the Tower-gate the lieutenant requested him to enter a coach, lest the people should wreak their hatred upon him; but he declined, saying, "No, master lieutenant, I dare look death in the face, and I hope the people, too. Have you a care that I do not escape, and I care not how I die, whether by the executioner, or the madness of the people. If that give them better satisfaction, it is all one to me."

He was accompanied to the scaffold by archbishop Usher, the earl of Cleveland, and his brother, Sir George Wentworth, and others of his friends were there to take their leave of him. The crowd assembled to see their great enemy depart was immense, and ho made a speech from notes which he had prepared, still protesting his innocence; declaring that so far from wishing to put an end to parliaments, he had always regarded them, under God, as the best means to make the king and his people happy. His head fell at a single blow, and the astonished people could scarcely believe that they saw the last of their mortal enemy. They retired in quietness, as if overcome by the greatness of the satisfaction; but they testified their joy in the evening by bonfires in the streets.

Strafford was a man of that address, and that communjing intellect, that had he persisted in the noble cause of constitutional liberty with which he began, there was no fame, no gratitude from his country and from posterity, which he might not have earned. But having once sold himself for rank and power, he devoted himself to the mean ambition of carrying out the will of a despotic king, to the task of extinguishing the laws and rights of a great nation, with the same unhesitating and unswerving resolution Yet there is scarcely an historian who does not lament his death, as unwarranted by the nature of his offence Clarendon bewails his fate as the victim of popular rage and royal weakness, yet there is every reason to believe that he voted for his death, for his name is not to be found in the list of the Straffordian dissentients; Hume pronounces his execution an enormity greater than the worst he had himself committed; Lingard thinks the propriety of his punishment has been justly questioned; and even Knight thinks he ought not to have been put to death. We cannot hold that opinion. So long as capital punishment shall be deemed necessary at all, we must believe that of Strafford was most righteously deserved. If treason against a king, who is but a servant to a nation, be a heinous offence, how much more so must be treason against a nation. Treason against a king is treason against an individual or family, treason against a nation is treason against millions and against all their posterity. The tendency of statesmen is to flatter and serve kings at the expense of the people; therefore the more strictly should their offences against the people be denounced and punished For Straftbrd's monstrous and unmitigated popular treason, we have only to look at his actions and read his own avowal in the Strafford papers. He had told Charles that he "would make him as absolute a king as any prince in the world could be." He set about to corrupt, intimidate, and mould the Irish parliament into his obsequious tool. He seized on vast estates in the province of Connaught, on pretence that they had been forfeited to the crown. He summoned juries to decide on the king's right to them, telling them that if they brought in any other verdict, "he would fine them at a sound rate; " and when they were not conformable, he dragged them into his star-chamber—the castle-chamber—fined them four thousand pounds apiece, and marched troops into Galway to seize on the estates of such as resisted the king's will. Having by these means raised a revenue, with that he raised an army to keep them down, and offered to carry that army to crush the liberty and religion of the Scots; nor did he mean to stop there, but, as he said, to carry the same process to England, and make the king absolute. All this time he was encouraging Laud in his like work in England, and Laud encouraging him in what they called their "Thorough;" thorough extinction of all law but the royal will. He told the king that having got from the judges a declaration of the lawfulness of ship-money, he had got a great thing; but that still the crown would only stand on one leg unless he got the like power declared for raising a standing army; and asked, "What should deter a king from a path which so manifestly, so ​directly led to the establishment of his throne, and the secure and independent seating of himself and posterity in wealth, strength, and glory, far above any of their progenitors; verily in such a condition, as there was no more hereafter to be wished them in this world?" And Laud wrote back, "Go on, in God's name!" After that, to doubt the justice of Strafford's punishment, is to commit treason against right, and the lives and liberties of our fellow men ourselves.

The fall of Strafford carried terror through the court. Many began to think of flying while it was time. Cottington had given up his office of master of the wards, and lord Saye and various other noblemen of the popular party were introduced into the ministry. The marquis of Hertford was made governor to the prince, the earl of Essex lord chamberlain, the earl of Leicester the lord-lieutenant of Ireland, in place of Strafford. The king was wholly averse to the new ministers, but hoped to win upon them as he had done upon Strafford, Loudon, and Montrose; and indeed, after their appointment, a bolder and more independent spirit seemed to awaken in the lords. They threw out several bills sent up from the commons, amongst others, one for excluding the bishops from their house. Essex, though a great reformer, was by no means averse to the hierarchy, and always obliged his servants to accompany him to church, and kept a chaplain who was a thorough conformist. The lords did not object to the bishops and clergy in general being excluded from the star-chamber, the privy council, and the commissions of the peace; but they contended that bishops had always formed a part of their body, and that the commons might next take it into their heads to exclude barons.

The commons, however, pressed on the lords a bill for the abolition of the two greatest engines of tyranny in the country, the star-chamber and the High Commission Court, and these, with another for a poll-tax for the maintenance of the armies. The lords passed them, but Charles hesitated. He had given up much this session: the right of prorogation without consent of parliament, thus making parliament perpetual if it pleased; the right to demand tonnage and poundage without the same consent; he had limited the forest laws; granted to the judges their places during good behaviour; and withdrawn the commission for the presidency of the north as illegal. But to give up the civil and ecclesiastical inquisitions, those ready and terrible torture houses of the crown, went hard with him. The poll-tax he passed at once, because he thought it would be unpopular, but he refused the others. The commons came to a resolution that he should pass all three or none; and the tone of both parliament and the public was so menacing, that on the 5th of July he gave his consent, and put an end to those un-English abominations.

The terror of the court was on the increase. Mary de Medici, the queen's mother, was glad to get away, the only obstacle being the want of money; but the commons, glad to be rid of her, granted her ten thousand pounds, with which she departed, and got as far as Cologne, where she died shortly after. The earl of Arundel went with the queen-mother as her escort, and remained abroad collecting antiquities and works of art and science in Italy. The queen herself made another attempt to escape from the dangerous vicinity of parliament, and begged to be allowed to accompany her mother, and to seek the restoration of her health, which it was alleged had suffered much from anxiety, and from rumours and rebels about her. To this, however, parliament was too prudent to consent, knowing well that Henrietta's real design was to arouse a spirit of sympathy for the king in France, and bring aid from that quarter, A deputation of both houses, therefore, waited on her to dissuade her from this intention, promising all means at home for the benefit of her health, and she graciously acquiesced.

The commons having granted the king six subsidies, and tonnage and poundage for the year, he now proposed to proceed to Scotland to hold a parliament. He was aware that a reaction had taken place there. The marquis of Montrose had exerted himself to form a party amongst such noblemen and gentlemen as had grown to regard the popular leaders both in Scotland and England as bearing too insolently on the prerogatives of the crown. He had prevailed on nineteen noblemen to subscribe a bond, pledging themselves "to oppose the particular and indirect practices of a few, and to study all public ends which might tend to the safety of religion, laws, and liberty." They were careful that the language of this bond should not clash openly with that of the covenant; but the real design did not escape the vigilance of the committee of estates. They called on Montrose and his associates to clear themselves, and obtaining the bond, burnt it publicly. Notwithstanding this, the confederates opened a secret correspondence with the king, and assured him of their confidence of victory over the covenanters, if he would honour the parliament with his presence, confirm his former concessions, and delay the distribution of offices and honours to the end of the session. But this correspondence also was discovered. Walter Stuart, the messenger of Montrose to the king, was seized near Haddington, and the letter of the marquis to the king, with various other suspicious papers, were found concealed in the pommel of his saddle. Montrose, lord Napier, Sir George Stirling, and Sir Archibald Stuart, were arrested, examined, and sent to the castle of Edinburgh.

These events rendered Charles still more impatient for his northern journey. Not only Traquair, and the other four of his officers who had been excepted from pardon as incendiaries, but these, his new allies, demanded his assistance. By the beginning of August the treaty of pacification was signed by the Scots. They had received an engagement from the English parliament for the payment of a balance of two hundred and twenty thousand pounds of "the brotherly assistance." Charles had granted an amnesty and an act of oblivion of all that was past, having cost the kingdom about one million one hundred thousand pounds, and both armies were ordered to be disbanded. The parliament, however, looked on this journey with no friendly eye. They were quite satisfied that nothing but necessity kept the king quiet. That he was intriguing with the reactionary party was become notorious, and that the Scotch army being disbanded, he would seize on any opportunity to undo whatever he could of his engagements. ​Even amongst his own friends, the wily old bishop of Lincoln, Williams, whom the king, in the absence of Laud, and the loss of Stratford, had taken into favour, and who was soon to be archbishop of York, advised Charles to keep away from the Scots. He assured him that they would ferret out any secret negotiations that might pass betwixt himself and the royal party, and make the English commons acquainted with it; and that he would do much better to remain, and employ himself in corrupting and winning over as many as he could of the parliamentary leaders. The commons insisted on his appointing a regency, if he should go, to act during his absence; but he consented only to the naming of a commission. It was not till the 10th of August that he got permission for his journey, and he was not destined to depart without having another proof of the animus of the house of commons. On the 4th, serjeant Wild presented to the lords a bill of impeachment against thirteen of the bishops—Laud's name being put among them—for their late manufacturing of canons and constitutions contrary to law. They made their grant of a benevolence to the king an offence under the name of a bribe, and by this means, though they had not been able to exclude all the bishops from the upper house for ever, they excluded these thirteen for a time.

At length Charles was enabled to set out. He had made the earl of Holland commander-in-chief of the forces, much to the disgust of the friends of Essex, who was appointed commander only of those south of the Trent. He was attended in his coach by his nephew, Charles Louis, the nominal elector palatine, the duke of Lennox, now duke of Richmond, and the marquis of Hamilton, rather ominous associates. The king had not been gone a week, however, when Holland having quarrelled with the queen, and the king having refused to make a baron at his suggestion, by which he would have got ten thousand pounds, sent a letter to the house of lords, obscurely intimating some new practices and designs against parliament. The lords communicated to the commons this letter, and the two houses immediately appointed a commission to proceed to Scotland, ostensibly to procure the ratification of the late treaty, but really to keep watch over the king and his partizans. To this duty were named the earl of Bedford, lord Edward Howard, Sir William Almayne, Sir Philip Stnpleton, Mr. Hampden, and Nathaniel Fiennes. The king endeavoured to gel rid of this unwelcome commission, declaring it needless, and refused to sign the commission when sent to him; but the parliament still pressing it, he allowed the commissioners to proceed to Scotland to attend him; all of whom did so except the earl of Bedford.

Charles had set out with the resolve to win over as many of his enemies as possible, and to please the Scots at large if possible, thereby to raise up a counter influence to that at home At the northern camp, which was not yet broken up, he did all that was possible to corrupt the officers, went to dine with old Leslie, the Scottish general, and soon after ennobled, him. At Edinburgh he flattered the covenanters by attaching their preachings, and went so far as to appoint Alexander Henderson, the stout champion of the covenant. his chaplain appearing to take especial delight in his conversation and having him constantly about him. In fact, when Charles had a motive for fawning on a particular party, he generally overdid it. He ratified all the acts of the last session of the Scottish parliament. As regarded the incendiaries, as they were called, that is, Charles's former ministers, who had been imprisoned for executing his commands, he promised on their release to give their offices to such persons as had pleased the parliament. He submitted to them a list of forty-two councillors, and nine great officers of state. The parliament conceded so far as to release all the incendiaries but five, and these were to be referred to a committee for trial, and their sentence to be pronounced by the king. So far, all promised well, but the covenanters were desirous to have the earl of Argyll, who had so openly espoused their cause in the general assembly, appointed to the chief post in the ministry, that of chancellor; but Charles conferred it on Loudon. Argyll strove for the next, that of treasurer, a post of great emolument, but Charles named to it lord Ormond; but the parliament would not consent, and the contest for this appointment had gone on ten days, when the feud thus commenced, spite of the condescension of the king, was rent still wider by the occurrence which is known in Scottish history by the name of the "Incident."

Since Charles had come to Edinburgh, he had continued to keep up his correspondence with the marquis of Montrose, who was still prisoner in the castle, and who, notwithstanding his known intrigue with the king, had by concert with him kept up a pretence of being a zealous covenanter. A letter from Montrose, revealing the progress of this correspondence, had been found by some traitorous person about the king, supposed, indeed, to have been taken from his pocket, and that by the marquis of Hamilton it was sent to the covenanters. Montrose found means to convey to the king his ideas about it, and to warn him especially of the treasonable proceedings and intentions of Hamilton and Argyll. Hamilton, since his having, at Charles's request, assumed the part of a favourer of the covenanters, had had the usual fate of such go-betweens, and became suspected of being more really of that party than he pretended. The king had grown cool in his manner to Hamilton: the letters of Montrose, conveyed through William Murray, a favourite groom of the bed-chamber, urged the king, as we are assured by Clarendon, to make away with the traitors Hamilton and Argyll. At this juncture, the young lord Kerr sent by the earl of Crawford a challenge of treason to Hamilton, who appealed to parliament in his justification, and Kerr was compelled to make an apology. But if we are to believe Hamilton himself, this did not prevent the prosecution of the plot to assassinate or carry them off to some place of concealment. He says, in a letter to his brother, lord Lanark, in the Hardwicke State Papers, that he was sent for suddenly by his brother and Argyll, as he was engaged with some company, desiring him to go to them on matters of the utmost consequence. When he went, he was informed by them that they had been desired to go to general Leslie, at his house, who informed there of a plot to kill or carry them away, which was thus to be accomplished;—The king was to summon them to his presence, as if to consult with them; but on entering the ante-chamber, they were to be surrounded by two or three hundred armed men, headed by the ​earl of Crawibrd, and carried forcibly on board a ship of his majesty's which lay in the roads, and killed if they resisted.

On this being confirmed to Hamilton by colonel Hurrie and captain Stuart, the three lost no time in escaping from the city to Hamilton House, at Kinneil; whilst the rumour of the plot spreading, the burghers of Edinburgh had closed, their gates, and armed themselves for the defence of the parliament.

As this was a direct charge of a most black and murderous design on the part of the king, he lost no time, on receiving letters from the fugitive noblemen stating why they had fled, in marching to the parliament house at the head of five hundred soldiers, to demand an explanation. The parliament was justly alarmed and offended at this menacing movement, and insisted that a commission should immediately be given to Leslie to guard parliament with all the city bands, the regiments of foot near at hand, and some troops of horse.

Charles was loud in his complaints on the scandal cast upon him by the needless flight of the three noblemen and the arming of the citizens, and demanded an instant examination before parliament for his clearance. The parliament would not consent to a trial before the whole house; but in spite of the king's remonstrances, referred it to a committee, and ordered the immediate arrest of the earl of Crawford, colonel Cochrane, William Murray, and others, that the committee discovered is unknown, for its proceedings were conducted with the profoundest secrecy; and they finally came to the conclusion that there was nothing which touched the king personally; and yet that the noblemen did not flee without sufficient cause, and were falsely accused by Montrose, Montrose himself, when examined regarding the letter to the king, declared that he meant to accuse nobody in particular; and Crawford, Murray, and the rest, gave confused and disordered answers. All was involved in mystery, and this was no little increased by Hamilton and Argyll returning to Edinburgh in the course of a few weeks, and Hamilton declaring that there was nothing in the affair which reflected any dishonour on the king. Still more to confound all reasoning on the matter, the plotters and incendiaries not only were liberated on bail, but Argyll was placed at the head of the treasury, was created a marquis, Hamilton a duke, and Leslie an earl, with the title of Leven. The whole business has remained an inexplicable mystery, for the minutes of the committee of inquiry never could be discovered, and all that could be said was, that if Charles had planned this murderous schema, it was very clumsily done; if he were innocent, his character was very clumsily and suspiciously dealt with. The news of the plot had been despatched with all speed to the parliament in England, and had created great alarm in London, many being of opinion that a conspiracy was on foot to get rid of all the king's opponents. Parliament, which had adjourned on the 9th of September to the 20th of October, had just met again, and the council sent urgent requests for the return of the king to the capital.

The king, however, appeared in no haste. He remained entertaining all parties in great festivity, distributing the forfeited church lands amongst influential persons, not excepting his covenanting chaplain, Henderson. Honours were as freely bestowed—three earldoms were conferred on covenanting leaders, and old Leslie, who a few weeks before had said, "his majesty with all reverence would see me hanged," was now expressing the most profound gratitude, and declaring that he would never draw the sword against the king again. It was found that Charles had carried the crown jewels with him: it was now well known that the great collar of rubies was pawned in Holland, and it was believed that Charles was buying up his enemies with others of the jewels, afterwards to be exchanged for money. These unpleasant suspicions were greatly increased by the fact that five companies of foot had by the king's especial command been detained at Berwick, notwithstanding the order for disbandment. The council sent six ships to fetch away the artillery and ammunition from Berwick and Holy Isle, and again represented to Charles the necessity of his presence in London.

His departure, however, was at length determined by starting new^s out of another quarter, namely, of rebellion in Ireland.

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