Chapter XXXIII - England Under Charles the First

by Charles Dickens

　　Baby Charles became King Charles the First, in the twenty-fifthyear of his age. Unlike his father, he was usually amiable in hisprivate character, and grave and dignified in his bearing; but,like his father, he had monstrously exaggerated notions of therights of a king, and was evasive, and not to be trusted. If hisword could have been relied upon, his history might have had adifferent end.

　　His first care was to send over that insolent upstart, Buckingham,to bring Henrietta Maria from Paris to be his Queen; upon whichoccasion Buckingham - with his usual audacity - made love to theyoung Queen of Austria, and was very indignant indeed with CardinalRichelieu, the French Minister, for thwarting his intentions. TheEnglish people were very well disposed to like their new Queen, andto receive her with great favour when she came among them as astranger. But, she held the Protestant religion in great dislike,and brought over a crowd of unpleasant priests, who made her dosome very ridiculous things, and forced themselves upon the publicnotice in many disagreeable ways. Hence, the people soon came todislike her, and she soon came to dislike them; and she did so muchall through this reign in setting the King (who was dotingly fondof her) against his subjects, that it would have been better forhim if she had never been born.

　　Now, you are to understand that King Charles the First - of his owndetermination to be a high and mighty King not to be called toaccount by anybody, and urged on by his Queen besides -deliberately set himself to put his Parliament down and to puthimself up. You are also to understand, that even in pursuit ofthis wrong idea (enough in itself to have ruined any king) he nevertook a straight course, but always took a crooked one.

　　He was bent upon war with Spain, though neither the House ofCommons nor the people were quite clear as to the justice of thatwar, now that they began to think a little more about the story ofthe Spanish match. But the King rushed into it hotly, raised moneyby illegal means to meet its expenses, and encountered a miserablefailure at Cadiz, in the very first year of his reign. Anexpedition to Cadiz had been made in the hope of plunder, but as itwas not successful, it was necessary to get a grant of money fromthe Parliament; and when they met, in no very complying humour,the, King told them, 'to make haste to let him have it, or it wouldbe the worse for themselves.' Not put in a more complying humourby this, they impeached the King's favourite, the Duke ofBuckingham, as the cause (which he undoubtedly was) of many greatpublic grievances and wrongs. The King, to save him, dissolved theParliament without getting the money he wanted; and when the Lordsimplored him to consider and grant a little delay, he replied, 'No,not one minute.' He then began to raise money for himself by thefollowing means among others.

　　He levied certain duties called tonnage and poundage which had notbeen granted by the Parliament, and could lawfully be levied by noother power; he called upon the seaport towns to furnish, and topay all the cost for three months of, a fleet of armed ships; andhe required the people to unite in lending him large sums of money,the repayment of which was very doubtful. If the poor peoplerefused, they were pressed as soldiers or sailors; if the gentryrefused, they were sent to prison. Five gentlemen, named SirThomas Darnel, John Corbet, Walter Earl, John Heveningham, andEverard Hampden, for refusing were taken up by a warrant of theKing's privy council, and were sent to prison without any cause butthe King's pleasure being stated for their imprisonment. Then thequestion came to be solemnly tried, whether this was not aviolation of Magna Charta, and an encroachment by the King on thehighest rights of the English people. His lawyers contended No,because to encroach upon the rights of the English people would beto do wrong, and the King could do no wrong. The accommodatingjudges decided in favour of this wicked nonsense; and here was afatal division between the King and the people.

　　For all this, it became necessary to call another Parliament. Thepeople, sensible of the danger in which their liberties were, chosefor it those who were best known for their determined opposition tothe King; but still the King, quite blinded by his determination tocarry everything before him, addressed them when they met, in acontemptuous manner, and just told them in so many words that hehad only called them together because he wanted money. TheParliament, strong enough and resolute enough to know that theywould lower his tone, cared little for what he said, and laidbefore him one of the great documents of history, which is calledthe Petition of Right, requiring that the free men of Englandshould no longer be called upon to lend the King money, and shouldno longer be pressed or imprisoned for refusing to do so; further,that the free men of England should no longer be seized by theKing's special mandate or warrant, it being contrary to theirrights and liberties and the laws of their country. At first theKing returned an answer to this petition, in which he tried toshirk it altogether; but, the House of Commons then showing theirdetermination to go on with the impeachment of Buckingham, the Kingin alarm returned an answer, giving his consent to all that wasrequired of him. He not only afterwards departed from his word andhonour on these points, over and over again, but, at this verytime, he did the mean and dissembling act of publishing his firstanswer and not his second - merely that the people might supposethat the Parliament had not got the better of him.

　　That pestilent Buckingham, to gratify his own wounded vanity, hadby this time involved the country in war with France, as well aswith Spain. For such miserable causes and such miserable creaturesare wars sometimes made! But he was destined to do little moremischief in this world. One morning, as he was going out of hishouse to his carriage, he turned to speak to a certain ColonelFryer who was with him; and he was violently stabbed with a knife,which the murderer left sticking in his heart. This happened inhis hall. He had had angry words up-stairs, just before, with someFrench gentlemen, who were immediately suspected by his servants,and had a close escape from being set upon and killed. In themidst of the noise, the real murderer, who had gone to the kitchenand might easily have got away, drew his sword and cried out, 'I amthe man!' His name was John Felton, a Protestant and a retiredofficer in the army. He said he had had no personal ill-will tothe Duke, but had killed him as a curse to the country. He hadaimed his blow well, for Buckingham had only had time to cry out,'Villain!' and then he drew out the knife, fell against a table,and died.

　　The council made a mighty business of examining John Felton aboutthis murder, though it was a plain case enough, one would think.He had come seventy miles to do it, he told them, and he did it forthe reason he had declared; if they put him upon the rack, as thatnoble Marquis of Dorset whom he saw before him, had the goodness tothreaten, he gave that marquis warning, that he would accuse him ashis accomplice! The King was unpleasantly anxious to have himracked, nevertheless; but as the judges now found out that torturewas contrary to the law of England - it is a pity they did not makethe discovery a little sooner - John Felton was simply executed forthe murder he had done. A murder it undoubtedly was, and not inthe least to be defended: though he had freed England from one ofthe most profligate, contemptible, and base court favourites towhom it has ever yielded.

　　A very different man now arose. This was Sir Thomas Wentworth, aYorkshire gentleman, who had sat in Parliament for a long time, andwho had favoured arbitrary and haughty principles, but who had goneover to the people's side on receiving offence from Buckingham.The King, much wanting such a man - for, besides being naturallyfavourable to the King's cause, he had great abilities - made himfirst a Baron, and then a Viscount, and gave him high employment,and won him most completely.

　　A Parliament, however, was still in existence, and was not to bewon. On the twentieth of January, one thousand six hundred andtwenty-nine, Sir John Eliot, a great man who had been active in thePetition of Right, brought forward other strong resolutions againstthe King's chief instruments, and called upon the Speaker to putthem to the vote. To this the Speaker answered, 'he was commandedotherwise by the King,' and got up to leave the chair - which,according to the rules of the House of Commons would have obligedit to adjourn without doing anything more - when two members, namedMr. Hollis and Mr. Valentine, held him down. A scene of greatconfusion arose among the members; and while many swords were drawnand flashing about, the King, who was kept informed of all that wasgoing on, told the captain of his guard to go down to the House andforce the doors. The resolutions were by that time, however,voted, and the House adjourned. Sir John Eliot and those twomembers who had held the Speaker down, were quickly summoned beforethe council. As they claimed it to be their privilege not toanswer out of Parliament for anything they had said in it, theywere committed to the Tower. The King then went down and dissolvedthe Parliament, in a speech wherein he made mention of thesegentlemen as 'Vipers' - which did not do him much good that ever Ihave heard of.

　　As they refused to gain their liberty by saying they were sorry forwhat they had done, the King, always remarkably unforgiving, neveroverlooked their offence. When they demanded to be brought upbefore the court of King's Bench, he even resorted to the meannessof having them moved about from prison to prison, so that the writsissued for that purpose should not legally find them. At last theycame before the court and were sentenced to heavy fines, and to beimprisoned during the King's pleasure. When Sir John Eliot'shealth had quite given way, and he so longed for change of air andscene as to petition for his release, the King sent back the answer(worthy of his Sowship himself) that the petition was not humbleenough. When he sent another petition by his young son, in whichhe pathetically offered to go back to prison when his health wasrestored, if he might be released for its recovery, the King stilldisregarded it. When he died in the Tower, and his childrenpetitioned to be allowed to take his body down to Cornwall, thereto lay it among the ashes of his forefathers, the King returned foranswer, 'Let Sir John Eliot's body be buried in the church of thatparish where he died.' All this was like a very little Kingindeed, I think.

　　And now, for twelve long years, steadily pursuing his design ofsetting himself up and putting the people down, the King called noParliament; but ruled without one. If twelve thousand volumes werewritten in his praise (as a good many have been) it would stillremain a fact, impossible to be denied, that for twelve years KingCharles the First reigned in England unlawfully and despotically,seized upon his subjects' goods and money at his pleasure, andpunished according to his unbridled will all who ventured to opposehim. It is a fashion with some people to think that this King'scareer was cut short; but I must say myself that I think he ran apretty long one.

　　William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, was the King's right-handman in the religious part of the putting down of the people'sliberties. Laud, who was a sincere man, of large learning butsmall sense - for the two things sometimes go together in verydifferent quantities - though a Protestant, held opinions so nearthose of the Catholics, that the Pope wanted to make a Cardinal ofhim, if he would have accepted that favour. He looked upon vows,robes, lighted candles, images, and so forth, as amazinglyimportant in religious ceremonies; and he brought in an immensityof bowing and candle-snuffing. He also regarded archbishops andbishops as a sort of miraculous persons, and was inveterate in thelast degree against any who thought otherwise. Accordingly, heoffered up thanks to Heaven, and was in a state of much piouspleasure, when a Scotch clergyman, named Leighton, was pilloried,whipped, branded in the cheek, and had one of his ears cut off andone of his nostrils slit, for calling bishops trumpery and theinventions of men. He originated on a Sunday morning theprosecution of William Prynne, a barrister who was of similaropinions, and who was fined a thousand pounds; who was pilloried;who had his ears cut off on two occasions - one ear at a time - andwho was imprisoned for life. He highly approved of the punishmentof Doctor Bastwick, a physician; who was also fined a thousandpounds; and who afterwards had his ears cut off, and was imprisonedfor life. These were gentle methods of persuasion, some will tellyou: I think, they were rather calculated to be alarming to thepeople.

　　In the money part of the putting down of the people's liberties,the King was equally gentle, as some will tell you: as I think,equally alarming. He levied those duties of tonnage and poundage,and increased them as he thought fit. He granted monopolies tocompanies of merchants on their paying him for them,notwithstanding the great complaints that had, for years and years,been made on the subject of monopolies. He fined the people fordisobeying proclamations issued by his Sowship in direct violationof law. He revived the detested Forest laws, and took privateproperty to himself as his forest right. Above all, he determinedto have what was called Ship Money; that is to say, money for thesupport of the fleet - not only from the seaports, but from all thecounties of England: having found out that, in some ancient timeor other, all the counties paid it. The grievance of this shipmoney being somewhat too strong, John Chambers, a citizen ofLondon, refused to pay his part of it. For this the Lord Mayorordered John Chambers to prison, and for that John Chambers broughta suit against the Lord Mayor. Lord Say, also, behaved like a realnobleman, and declared he would not pay. But, the sturdiest andbest opponent of the ship money was John Hampden, a gentleman ofBuckinghamshire, who had sat among the 'vipers' in the House ofCommons when there was such a thing, and who had been the bosomfriend of Sir John Eliot. This case was tried before the twelvejudges in the Court of Exchequer, and again the King's lawyers saidit was impossible that ship money could be wrong, because the Kingcould do no wrong, however hard he tried - and he really did tryvery hard during these twelve years. Seven of the judges said thatwas quite true, and Mr. Hampden was bound to pay: five of thejudges said that was quite false, and Mr. Hampden was not bound topay. So, the King triumphed (as he thought), by making Hampden themost popular man in England; where matters were getting to thatheight now, that many honest Englishmen could not endure theircountry, and sailed away across the seas to found a colony inMassachusetts Bay in America. It is said that Hampden himself andhis relation Oliver Cromwell were going with a company of suchvoyagers, and were actually on board ship, when they were stoppedby a proclamation, prohibiting sea captains to carry out suchpassengers without the royal license. But O! it would have beenwell for the King if he had let them go! This was the state ofEngland. If Laud had been a madman just broke loose, he could nothave done more mischief than he did in Scotland. In his endeavours(in which he was seconded by the King, then in person in that partof his dominions) to force his own ideas of bishops, and his ownreligious forms and ceremonies upon the Scotch, he roused thatnation to a perfect frenzy. They formed a solemn league, whichthey called The Covenant, for the preservation of their ownreligious forms; they rose in arms throughout the whole country;they summoned all their men to prayers and sermons twice a day bybeat of drum; they sang psalms, in which they compared theirenemies to all the evil spirits that ever were heard of; and theysolemnly vowed to smite them with the sword. At first the Kingtried force, then treaty, then a Scottish Parliament which did notanswer at all. Then he tried the Earl of Strafford, formerly SirThomas Wentworth; who, as Lord Wentworth, had been governingIreland. He, too, had carried it with a very high hand there,though to the benefit and prosperity of that country.

　　Strafford and Laud were for conquering the Scottish people by forceof arms. Other lords who were taken into council, recommended thata Parliament should at last be called; to which the Kingunwillingly consented. So, on the thirteenth of April, onethousand six hundred and forty, that then strange sight, aParliament, was seen at Westminster. It is called the ShortParliament, for it lasted a very little while. While the memberswere all looking at one another, doubtful who would dare to speak,Mr. Pym arose and set forth all that the King had done unlawfullyduring the past twelve years, and what was the position to whichEngland was reduced. This great example set, other members tookcourage and spoke the truth freely, though with great patience andmoderation. The King, a little frightened, sent to say that ifthey would grant him a certain sum on certain terms, no more shipmoney should be raised. They debated the matter for two days; andthen, as they would not give him all he asked without promise orinquiry, he dissolved them.

　　But they knew very well that he must have a Parliament now; and hebegan to make that discovery too, though rather late in the day.Wherefore, on the twenty-fourth of September, being then at Yorkwith an army collected against the Scottish people, but his own mensullen and discontented like the rest of the nation, the King toldthe great council of the Lords, whom he had called to meet himthere, that he would summon another Parliament to assemble on thethird of November. The soldiers of the Covenant had now forcedtheir way into England and had taken possession of the northerncounties, where the coals are got. As it would never do to bewithout coals, and as the King's troops could make no head againstthe Covenanters so full of gloomy zeal, a truce was made, and atreaty with Scotland was taken into consideration. Meanwhile thenorthern counties paid the Covenanters to leave the coals alone,and keep quiet.

　　We have now disposed of the Short Parliament. We have next to seewhat memorable things were done by the Long one.

　　SECOND PART

　　The Long Parliament assembled on the third of November, onethousand six hundred and forty-one. That day week the Earl ofStrafford arrived from York, very sensible that the spirited anddetermined men who formed that Parliament were no friends towardshim, who had not only deserted the cause of the people, but who hadon all occasions opposed himself to their liberties. The King toldhim, for his comfort, that the Parliament 'should not hurt one hairof his head.' But, on the very next day Mr. Pym, in the House ofCommons, and with great solemnity, impeached the Earl of Straffordas a traitor. He was immediately taken into custody and fell fromhis proud height.

　　It was the twenty-second of March before he was brought to trial inWestminster Hall; where, although he was very ill and sufferedgreat pain, he defended himself with such ability and majesty, thatit was doubtful whether he would not get the best of it. But onthe thirteenth day of the trial, Pym produced in the House ofCommons a copy of some notes of a council, found by young Sir HarryVane in a red velvet cabinet belonging to his father (SecretaryVane, who sat at the council-table with the Earl), in whichStrafford had distinctly told the King that he was free from allrules and obligations of government, and might do with his peoplewhatever he liked; and in which he had added - 'You have an army inIreland that you may employ to reduce this kingdom to obedience.'It was not clear whether by the words 'this kingdom,' he had reallymeant England or Scotland; but the Parliament contended that hemeant England, and this was treason. At the same sitting of theHouse of Commons it was resolved to bring in a bill of attainderdeclaring the treason to have been committed: in preference toproceeding with the trial by impeachment, which would have requiredthe treason to be proved.

　　So, a bill was brought in at once, was carried through the House ofCommons by a large majority, and was sent up to the House of Lords.While it was still uncertain whether the House of Lords would passit and the King consent to it, Pym disclosed to the House ofCommons that the King and Queen had both been plotting with theofficers of the army to bring up the soldiers and control theParliament, and also to introduce two hundred soldiers into theTower of London to effect the Earl's escape. The plotting with thearmy was revealed by one George Goring, the son of a lord of thatname: a bad fellow who was one of the original plotters, andturned traitor. The King had actually given his warrant for theadmission of the two hundred men into the Tower, and they wouldhave got in too, but for the refusal of the governor - a sturdyScotchman of the name of Balfour - to admit them. These mattersbeing made public, great numbers of people began to riot outsidethe Houses of Parliament, and to cry out for the execution of theEarl of Strafford, as one of the King's chief instruments againstthem. The bill passed the House of Lords while the people were inthis state of agitation, and was laid before the King for hisassent, together with another bill declaring that the Parliamentthen assembled should not be dissolved or adjourned without theirown consent. The King - not unwilling to save a faithful servant,though he had no great attachment for him - was in some doubt whatto do; but he gave his consent to both bills, although he in hisheart believed that the bill against the Earl of Strafford wasunlawful and unjust. The Earl had written to him, telling him thathe was willing to die for his sake. But he had not expected thathis royal master would take him at his word quite so readily; for,when he heard his doom, he laid his hand upon his heart, and said,'Put not your trust in Princes!'

　　The King, who never could be straightforward and plain, through onesingle day or through one single sheet of paper, wrote a letter tothe Lords, and sent it by the young Prince of Wales, entreatingthem to prevail with the Commons that 'that unfortunate man shouldfulfil the natural course of his life in a close imprisonment.' Ina postscript to the very same letter, he added, 'If he must die, itwere charity to reprieve him till Saturday.' If there had been anydoubt of his fate, this weakness and meanness would have settledit. The very next day, which was the twelfth of May, he wasbrought out to be beheaded on Tower Hill.

　　Archbishop Laud, who had been so fond of having people's earscropped off and their noses slit, was now confined in the Towertoo; and when the Earl went by his window to his death, he wasthere, at his request, to give him his blessing. They had beengreat friends in the King's cause, and the Earl had written to himin the days of their power that he thought it would be an admirablething to have Mr. Hampden publicly whipped for refusing to pay theship money. However, those high and mighty doings were over now,and the Earl went his way to death with dignity and heroism. Thegovernor wished him to get into a coach at the Tower gate, for fearthe people should tear him to pieces; but he said it was all one tohim whether he died by the axe or by the people's hands. So, hewalked, with a firm tread and a stately look, and sometimes pulledoff his hat to them as he passed along. They were profoundlyquiet. He made a speech on the scaffold from some notes he hadprepared (the paper was found lying there after his head was struckoff), and one blow of the axe killed him, in the forty-ninth yearof his age.

　　This bold and daring act, the Parliament accompanied by otherfamous measures, all originating (as even this did) in the King'shaving so grossly and so long abused his power. The name ofDelinquents was applied to all sheriffs and other officers who hadbeen concerned in raising the ship money, or any other money, fromthe people, in an unlawful manner; the Hampden judgment wasreversed; the judges who had decided against Hampden were calledupon to give large securities that they would take suchconsequences as Parliament might impose upon them; and one wasarrested as he sat in High Court, and carried off to prison. Laudwas impeached; the unfortunate victims whose ears had been croppedand whose noses had been slit, were brought out of prison intriumph; and a bill was passed declaring that a Parliament shouldbe called every third year, and that if the King and the King'sofficers did not call it, the people should assemble of themselvesand summon it, as of their own right and power. Greatilluminations and rejoicings took place over all these things, andthe country was wildly excited. That the Parliament took advantageof this excitement and stirred them up by every means, there is nodoubt; but you are always to remember those twelve long years,during which the King had tried so hard whether he really could doany wrong or not.

　　All this time there was a great religious outcry against the rightof the Bishops to sit in Parliament; to which the Scottish peopleparticularly objected. The English were divided on this subject,and, partly on this account and partly because they had had foolishexpectations that the Parliament would be able to take off nearlyall the taxes, numbers of them sometimes wavered and inclinedtowards the King.

　　I believe myself, that if, at this or almost any other period ofhis life, the King could have been trusted by any man not out ofhis senses, he might have saved himself and kept his throne. But,on the English army being disbanded, he plotted with the officersagain, as he had done before, and established the fact beyond alldoubt by putting his signature of approval to a petition againstthe Parliamentary leaders, which was drawn up by certain officers.When the Scottish army was disbanded, he went to Edinburgh in fourdays - which was going very fast at that time - to plot again, andso darkly too, that it is difficult to decide what his whole objectwas. Some suppose that he wanted to gain over the ScottishParliament, as he did in fact gain over, by presents and favours,many Scottish lords and men of power. Some think that he went toget proofs against the Parliamentary leaders in England of theirhaving treasonably invited the Scottish people to come and helpthem. With whatever object he went to Scotland, he did little goodby going. At the instigation of the Earl of Montrose, a desperateman who was then in prison for plotting, he tried to kidnap threeScottish lords who escaped. A committee of the Parliament at home,who had followed to watch him, writing an account of this Incident,as it was called, to the Parliament, the Parliament made a freshstir about it; were, or feigned to be, much alarmed for themselves;and wrote to the Earl of Essex, the commander-in-chief, for a guardto protect them.

　　It is not absolutely proved that the King plotted in Irelandbesides, but it is very probable that he did, and that the Queendid, and that he had some wild hope of gaining the Irish peopleover to his side by favouring a rise among them. Whether or no,they did rise in a most brutal and savage rebellion; in which,encouraged by their priests, they committed such atrocities uponnumbers of the English, of both sexes and of all ages, as nobodycould believe, but for their being related on oath by eye-witnesses. Whether one hundred thousand or two hundred thousandProtestants were murdered in this outbreak, is uncertain; but, thatit was as ruthless and barbarous an outbreak as ever was knownamong any savage people, is certain.

　　The King came home from Scotland, determined to make a greatstruggle for his lost power. He believed that, through hispresents and favours, Scotland would take no part against him; andthe Lord Mayor of London received him with such a magnificentdinner that he thought he must have become popular again inEngland. It would take a good many Lord Mayors, however, to make apeople, and the King soon found himself mistaken.

　　Not so soon, though, but that there was a great opposition in theParliament to a celebrated paper put forth by Pym and Hampden andthe rest, called 'The Remonstrance,' which set forth all theillegal acts that the King had ever done, but politely laid theblame of them on his bad advisers. Even when it was passed andpresented to him, the King still thought himself strong enough todischarge Balfour from his command in the Tower, and to put in hisplace a man of bad character; to whom the Commons instantlyobjected, and whom he was obliged to abandon. At this time, theold outcry about the Bishops became louder than ever, and the oldArchbishop of York was so near being murdered as he went down tothe House of Lords - being laid hold of by the mob and violentlyknocked about, in return for very foolishly scolding a shrill boywho was yelping out 'No Bishops!' - that he sent for all theBishops who were in town, and proposed to them to sign adeclaration that, as they could no longer without danger to theirlives attend their duty in Parliament, they protested against thelawfulness of everything done in their absence. This they askedthe King to send to the House of Lords, which he did. Then theHouse of Commons impeached the whole party of Bishops and sent themoff to the Tower:

　　Taking no warning from this; but encouraged by there being amoderate party in the Parliament who objected to these strongmeasures, the King, on the third of January, one thousand sixhundred and forty-two, took the rashest step that ever was taken bymortal man.

　　Of his own accord and without advice, he sent the Attorney-Generalto the House of Lords, to accuse of treason certain members ofParliament who as popular leaders were the most obnoxious to him;Lord Kimbolton, Sir Arthur Haselrig, Denzil Hollis, John Pym (theyused to call him King Pym, he possessed such power and looked sobig), John Hampden, and William Strode. The houses of thosemembers he caused to be entered, and their papers to be sealed up.At the same time, he sent a messenger to the House of Commonsdemanding to have the five gentlemen who were members of that Houseimmediately produced. To this the House replied that they shouldappear as soon as there was any legal charge against them, andimmediately adjourned.

　　Next day, the House of Commons send into the City to let the LordMayor know that their privileges are invaded by the King, and thatthere is no safety for anybody or anything. Then, when the fivemembers are gone out of the way, down comes the King himself, withall his guard and from two to three hundred gentlemen and soldiers,of whom the greater part were armed. These he leaves in the hall;and then, with his nephew at his side, goes into the House, takesoff his hat, and walks up to the Speaker's chair. The Speakerleaves it, the King stands in front of it, looks about him steadilyfor a little while, and says he has come for those five members.No one speaks, and then he calls John Pym by name. No one speaks,and then he calls Denzil Hollis by name. No one speaks, and thenhe asks the Speaker of the House where those five members are? TheSpeaker, answering on his knee, nobly replies that he is theservant of that House, and that he has neither eyes to see, nortongue to speak, anything but what the House commands him. Uponthis, the King, beaten from that time evermore, replies that hewill seek them himself, for they have committed treason; and goesout, with his hat in his hand, amid some audible murmurs from themembers.

　　No words can describe the hurry that arose out of doors when allthis was known. The five members had gone for safety to a house inColeman-street, in the City, where they were guarded all night; andindeed the whole city watched in arms like an army. At ten o'clockin the morning, the King, already frightened at what he had done,came to the Guildhall, with only half a dozen lords, and made aspeech to the people, hoping they would not shelter those whom heaccused of treason. Next day, he issued a proclamation for theapprehension of the five members; but the Parliament minded it solittle that they made great arrangements for having them broughtdown to Westminster in great state, five days afterwards. The Kingwas so alarmed now at his own imprudence, if not for his ownsafety, that he left his palace at Whitehall, and went away withhis Queen and children to Hampton Court.

　　It was the eleventh of May, when the five members were carried instate and triumph to Westminster. They were taken by water. Theriver could not be seen for the boats on it; and the five memberswere hemmed in by barges full of men and great guns, ready toprotect them, at any cost. Along the Strand a large body of thetrain-bands of London, under their commander, Skippon, marched tobe ready to assist the little fleet. Beyond them, came a crowd whochoked the streets, roaring incessantly about the Bishops and thePapists, and crying out contemptuously as they passed Whitehall,'What has become of the King?' With this great noise outside theHouse of Commons, and with great silence within, Mr. Pym rose andinformed the House of the great kindness with which they had beenreceived in the City. Upon that, the House called the sheriffs inand thanked them, and requested the train-bands, under theircommander Skippon, to guard the House of Commons every day. Then,came four thousand men on horseback out of Buckinghamshire,offering their services as a guard too, and bearing a petition tothe King, complaining of the injury that had been done to Mr.Hampden, who was their county man and much beloved and honoured.

　　When the King set off for Hampton Court, the gentlemen and soldierswho had been with him followed him out of town as far as Kingston-upon-Thames; next day, Lord Digby came to them from the King atHampton Court, in his coach and six, to inform them that the Kingaccepted their protection. This, the Parliament said, was makingwar against the kingdom, and Lord Digby fled abroad. TheParliament then immediately applied themselves to getting hold ofthe military power of the country, well knowing that the King wasalready trying hard to use it against them, and that he hadsecretly sent the Earl of Newcastle to Hull, to secure a valuablemagazine of arms and gunpowder that was there. In those times,every county had its own magazines of arms and powder, for its owntrain-bands or militia; so, the Parliament brought in a billclaiming the right (which up to this time had belonged to the King)of appointing the Lord Lieutenants of counties, who commanded thesetrain-bands; also, of having all the forts, castles, and garrisonsin the kingdom, put into the hands of such governors as they, theParliament, could confide in. It also passed a law depriving theBishops of their votes. The King gave his assent to that bill, butwould not abandon the right of appointing the Lord Lieutenants,though he said he was willing to appoint such as might be suggestedto him by the Parliament. When the Earl of Pembroke asked himwhether he would not give way on that question for a time, he said,'By God! not for one hour!' and upon this he and the Parliamentwent to war.

　　His young daughter was betrothed to the Prince of Orange. Onpretence of taking her to the country of her future husband, theQueen was already got safely away to Holland, there to pawn theCrown jewels for money to raise an army on the King's side. TheLord Admiral being sick, the House of Commons now named the Earl ofWarwick to hold his place for a year. The King named anothergentleman; the House of Commons took its own way, and the Earl ofWarwick became Lord Admiral without the King's consent. TheParliament sent orders down to Hull to have that magazine removedto London; the King went down to Hull to take it himself. Thecitizens would not admit him into the town, and the governor wouldnot admit him into the castle. The Parliament resolved thatwhatever the two Houses passed, and the King would not consent to,should be called an Ordinance, and should be as much a law as if hedid consent to it. The King protested against this, and gavenotice that these ordinances were not to be obeyed. The King,attended by the majority of the House of Peers, and by many membersof the House of Commons, established himself at York. TheChancellor went to him with the Great Seal, and the Parliament madea new Great Seal. The Queen sent over a ship full of arms andammunition, and the King issued letters to borrow money at highinterest. The Parliament raised twenty regiments of foot andseventy-five troops of horse; and the people willingly aided themwith their money, plate, jewellery, and trinkets - the marriedwomen even with their wedding-rings. Every member of Parliamentwho could raise a troop or a regiment in his own part of thecountry, dressed it according to his taste and in his own colours,and commanded it. Foremost among them all, Oliver Cromwell raiseda troop of horse - thoroughly in earnest and thoroughly well armed- who were, perhaps, the best soldiers that ever were seen.

　　In some of their proceedings, this famous Parliament passed thebounds of previous law and custom, yielded to and favoured riotousassemblages of the people, and acted tyrannically in imprisoningsome who differed from the popular leaders. But again, you arealways to remember that the twelve years during which the King hadhad his own wilful way, had gone before; and that nothing couldmake the times what they might, could, would, or should have been,if those twelve years had never rolled away.

　　THIRD PART

　　I shall not try to relate the particulars of the great civil warbetween King Charles the First and the Long Parliament, whichlasted nearly four years, and a full account of which would fillmany large books. It was a sad thing that Englishmen should oncemore be fighting against Englishmen on English ground; but, it issome consolation to know that on both sides there was greathumanity, forbearance, and honour. The soldiers of the Parliamentwere far more remarkable for these good qualities than the soldiersof the King (many of whom fought for mere pay without much caringfor the cause); but those of the nobility and gentry who were onthe King's side were so brave, and so faithful to him, that theirconduct cannot but command our highest admiration. Among them weregreat numbers of Catholics, who took the royal side because theQueen was so strongly of their persuasion.

　　The King might have distinguished some of these gallant spirits, ifhe had been as generous a spirit himself, by giving them thecommand of his army. Instead of that, however, true to his oldhigh notions of royalty, he entrusted it to his two nephews, PrinceRupert and Prince Maurice, who were of royal blood and came overfrom abroad to help him. It might have been better for him if theyhad stayed away; since Prince Rupert was an impetuous, hot-headedfellow, whose only idea was to dash into battle at all times andseasons, and lay about him.

　　The general-in-chief of the Parliamentary army was the Earl ofEssex, a gentleman of honour and an excellent soldier. A littlewhile before the war broke out, there had been some rioting atWestminster between certain officious law students and noisysoldiers, and the shopkeepers and their apprentices, and thegeneral people in the streets. At that time the King's friendscalled the crowd, Roundheads, because the apprentices wore shorthair; the crowd, in return, called their opponents Cavaliers,meaning that they were a blustering set, who pretended to be verymilitary. These two words now began to be used to distinguish thetwo sides in the civil war. The Royalists also called theParliamentary men Rebels and Rogues, while the Parliamentary mencalled them Malignants, and spoke of themselves as the Godly, theHonest, and so forth.

　　The war broke out at Portsmouth, where that double traitor Goringhad again gone over to the King and was besieged by theParliamentary troops. Upon this, the King proclaimed the Earl ofEssex and the officers serving under him, traitors, and called uponhis loyal subjects to meet him in arms at Nottingham on the twenty-fifth of August. But his loyal subjects came about him in scantynumbers, and it was a windy, gloomy day, and the Royal Standard gotblown down, and the whole affair was very melancholy. The chiefengagements after this, took place in the vale of the Red Horsenear Banbury, at Brentford, at Devizes, at Chalgrave Field (whereMr. Hampden was so sorely wounded while fighting at the head of hismen, that he died within a week), at Newbury (in which battle LordFalkland, one of the best noblemen on the King's side, was killed),at Leicester, at Naseby, at Winchester, at Marston Moor near York,at Newcastle, and in many other parts of England and Scotland.These battles were attended with various successes. At one time,the King was victorious; at another time, the Parliament. Butalmost all the great and busy towns were against the King; and whenit was considered necessary to fortify London, all ranks of people,from labouring men and women, up to lords and ladies, worked hardtogether with heartiness and good will. The most distinguishedleaders on the Parliamentary side were Hampden, Sir Thomas Fairfax,and, above all, Oliver Cromwell, and his son-in-law Ireton.

　　During the whole of this war, the people, to whom it was veryexpensive and irksome, and to whom it was made the more distressingby almost every family being divided - some of its membersattaching themselves to one side and some to the other - were overand over again most anxious for peace. So were some of the bestmen in each cause. Accordingly, treaties of peace were discussedbetween commissioners from the Parliament and the King; at York, atOxford (where the King held a little Parliament of his own), and atUxbridge. But they came to nothing. In all these negotiations,and in all his difficulties, the King showed himself at his best.He was courageous, cool, self-possessed, and clever; but, the oldtaint of his character was always in him, and he was never for onesingle moment to be trusted. Lord Clarendon, the historian, one ofhis highest admirers, supposes that he had unhappily promised theQueen never to make peace without her consent, and that this mustoften be taken as his excuse. He never kept his word from night tomorning. He signed a cessation of hostilities with the blood-stained Irish rebels for a sum of money, and invited the Irishregiments over, to help him against the Parliament. In the battleof Naseby, his cabinet was seized and was found to contain acorrespondence with the Queen, in which he expressly told her thathe had deceived the Parliament - a mongrel Parliament, he called itnow, as an improvement on his old term of vipers - in pretending torecognise it and to treat with it; and from which it furtherappeared that he had long been in secret treaty with the Duke ofLorraine for a foreign army of ten thousand men. Disappointed inthis, he sent a most devoted friend of his, the Earl of Glamorgan,to Ireland, to conclude a secret treaty with the Catholic powers,to send him an Irish army of ten thousand men; in return for whichhe was to bestow great favours on the Catholic religion. And, whenthis treaty was discovered in the carriage of a fighting IrishArchbishop who was killed in one of the many skirmishes of thosedays, he basely denied and deserted his attached friend, the Earl,on his being charged with high treason; and - even worse than this- had left blanks in the secret instructions he gave him with hisown kingly hand, expressly that he might thus save himself.

　　At last, on the twenty-seventh day of April, one thousand sixhundred and forty-six, the King found himself in the city ofOxford, so surrounded by the Parliamentary army who were closing inupon him on all sides that he felt that if he would escape he mustdelay no longer. So, that night, having altered the cut of hishair and beard, he was dressed up as a servant and put upon a horsewith a cloak strapped behind him, and rode out of the town behindone of his own faithful followers, with a clergyman of that countrywho knew the road well, for a guide. He rode towards London as faras Harrow, and then altered his plans and resolved, it would seem,to go to the Scottish camp. The Scottish men had been invited overto help the Parliamentary army, and had a large force then inEngland. The King was so desperately intriguing in everything hedid, that it is doubtful what he exactly meant by this step. Hetook it, anyhow, and delivered himself up to the Earl of Leven, theScottish general-in-chief, who treated him as an honourableprisoner. Negotiations between the Parliament on the one hand andthe Scottish authorities on the other, as to what should be donewith him, lasted until the following February. Then, when the Kinghad refused to the Parliament the concession of that old militiapoint for twenty years, and had refused to Scotland the recognitionof its Solemn League and Covenant, Scotland got a handsome sum forits army and its help, and the King into the bargain. He wastaken, by certain Parliamentary commissioners appointed to receivehim, to one of his own houses, called Holmby House, near Althorpe,in Northamptonshire.

　　While the Civil War was still in progress, John Pym died, and wasburied with great honour in Westminster Abbey - not with greaterhonour than he deserved, for the liberties of Englishmen owe amighty debt to Pym and Hampden. The war was but newly over whenthe Earl of Essex died, of an illness brought on by his havingoverheated himself in a stag hunt in Windsor Forest. He, too, wasburied in Westminster Abbey, with great state. I wish it were notnecessary to add that Archbishop Laud died upon the scaffold whenthe war was not yet done. His trial lasted in all nearly a year,and, it being doubtful even then whether the charges broughtagainst him amounted to treason, the odious old contrivance of theworst kings was resorted to, and a bill of attainder was brought inagainst him. He was a violently prejudiced and mischievous person;had had strong ear-cropping and nose-splitting propensities, as youknow; and had done a world of harm. But he died peaceably, andlike a brave old man.

　　FOURTH PART

　　When the Parliament had got the King into their hands, they becamevery anxious to get rid of their army, in which Oliver Cromwell hadbegun to acquire great power; not only because of his courage andhigh abilities, but because he professed to be very sincere in theScottish sort of Puritan religion that was then exceedingly popularamong the soldiers. They were as much opposed to the Bishops as tothe Pope himself; and the very privates, drummers, and trumpeters,had such an inconvenient habit of starting up and preaching long-winded discourses, that I would not have belonged to that army onany account.

　　So, the Parliament, being far from sure but that the army mightbegin to preach and fight against them now it had nothing else todo, proposed to disband the greater part of it, to send anotherpart to serve in Ireland against the rebels, and to keep only asmall force in England. But, the army would not consent to bebroken up, except upon its own conditions; and, when the Parliamentshowed an intention of compelling it, it acted for itself in anunexpected manner. A certain cornet, of the name of Joice, arrivedat Holmby House one night, attended by four hundred horsemen, wentinto the King's room with his hat in one hand and a pistol in theother, and told the King that he had come to take him away. TheKing was willing enough to go, and only stipulated that he shouldbe publicly required to do so next morning. Next morning,accordingly, he appeared on the top of the steps of the house, andasked Comet Joice before his men and the guard set there by theParliament, what authority he had for taking him away? To thisCornet Joice replied, 'The authority of the army.' 'Have you awritten commission?' said the King. Joice, pointing to his fourhundred men on horseback, replied, 'That is my commission.''Well,' said the King, smiling, as if he were pleased, 'I neverbefore read such a commission; but it is written in fair andlegible characters. This is a company of as handsome propergentlemen as I have seen a long while.' He was asked where hewould like to live, and he said at Newmarket. So, to Newmarket heand Cornet Joice and the four hundred horsemen rode; the Kingremarking, in the same smiling way, that he could ride as far at aspell as Cornet Joice, or any man there.

　　The King quite believed, I think, that the army were his friends.He said as much to Fairfax when that general, Oliver Cromwell, andIreton, went to persuade him to return to the custody of theParliament. He preferred to remain as he was, and resolved toremain as he was. And when the army moved nearer and nearer Londonto frighten the Parliament into yielding to their demands, theytook the King with them. It was a deplorable thing that Englandshould be at the mercy of a great body of soldiers with arms intheir hands; but the King certainly favoured them at this importanttime of his life, as compared with the more lawful power that triedto control him. It must be added, however, that they treated him,as yet, more respectfully and kindly than the Parliament had done.They allowed him to be attended by his own servants, to besplendidly entertained at various houses, and to see his children -at Cavesham House, near Reading - for two days. Whereas, theParliament had been rather hard with him, and had only allowed himto ride out and play at bowls.

　　It is much to be believed that if the King could have been trusted,even at this time, he might have been saved. Even Oliver Cromwellexpressly said that he did believe that no man could enjoy hispossessions in peace, unless the King had his rights. He was notunfriendly towards the King; he had been present when he receivedhis children, and had been much affected by the pitiable nature ofthe scene; he saw the King often; he frequently walked and talkedwith him in the long galleries and pleasant gardens of the Palaceat Hampton Court, whither he was now removed; and in all thisrisked something of his influence with the army. But, the King wasin secret hopes of help from the Scottish people; and the moment hewas encouraged to join them he began to be cool to his new friends,the army, and to tell the officers that they could not possibly dowithout him. At the very time, too, when he was promising to makeCromwell and Ireton noblemen, if they would help him up to his oldheight, he was writing to the Queen that he meant to hang them.They both afterwards declared that they had been privately informedthat such a letter would be found, on a certain evening, sewed upin a saddle which would be taken to the Blue Boar in Holborn to besent to Dover; and that they went there, disguised as commonsoldiers, and sat drinking in the inn-yard until a man came withthe saddle, which they ripped up with their knives, and thereinfound the letter. I see little reason to doubt the story. It iscertain that Oliver Cromwell told one of the King's most faithfulfollowers that the King could not be trusted, and that he would notbe answerable if anything amiss were to happen to him. Still, evenafter that, he kept a promise he had made to the King, by lettinghim know that there was a plot with a certain portion of the armyto seize him. I believe that, in fact, he sincerely wanted theKing to escape abroad, and so to be got rid of without more troubleor danger. That Oliver himself had work enough with the army ispretty plain; for some of the troops were so mutinous against him,and against those who acted with him at this time, that he found itnecessary to have one man shot at the head of his regiment tooverawe the rest.

　　The King, when he received Oliver's warning, made his escape fromHampton Court; after some indecision and uncertainty, he went toCarisbrooke Castle in the Isle of Wight. At first, he was prettyfree there; but, even there, he carried on a pretended treaty withthe Parliament, while he was really treating with commissionersfrom Scotland to send an army into England to take his part. Whenhe broke off this treaty with the Parliament (having settled withScotland) and was treated as a prisoner, his treatment was notchanged too soon, for he had plotted to escape that very night to aship sent by the Queen, which was lying off the island.

　　He was doomed to be disappointed in his hopes from Scotland. Theagreement he had made with the Scottish Commissioners was notfavourable enough to the religion of that country to please theScottish clergy; and they preached against it. The consequencewas, that the army raised in Scotland and sent over, was too smallto do much; and that, although it was helped by a rising of theRoyalists in England and by good soldiers from Ireland, it couldmake no head against the Parliamentary army under such men asCromwell and Fairfax. The King's eldest son, the Prince of Wales,came over from Holland with nineteen ships (a part of the Englishfleet having gone over to him) to help his father; but nothing cameof his voyage, and he was fain to return. The most remarkableevent of this second civil war was the cruel execution by theParliamentary General, of Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle,two grand Royalist generals, who had bravely defended Colchesterunder every disadvantage of famine and distress for nearly threemonths. When Sir Charles Lucas was shot, Sir George Lisle kissedhis body, and said to the soldiers who were to shoot him, 'Comenearer, and make sure of me.' 'I warrant you, Sir George,' saidone of the soldiers, 'we shall hit you.' 'Ay?' he returned with asmile, 'but I have been nearer to you, my friends, many a time, andyou have missed me.'

　　The Parliament, after being fearfully bullied by the army - whodemanded to have seven members whom they disliked given up to them- had voted that they would have nothing more to do with the King.On the conclusion, however, of this second civil war (which did notlast more than six months), they appointed commissioners to treatwith him. The King, then so far released again as to be allowed tolive in a private house at Newport in the Isle of Wight, managedhis own part of the negotiation with a sense that was admired byall who saw him, and gave up, in the end, all that was asked of him- even yielding (which he had steadily refused, so far) to thetemporary abolition of the bishops, and the transfer of theirchurch land to the Crown. Still, with his old fatal vice upon him,when his best friends joined the commissioners in beseeching him toyield all those points as the only means of saving himself from thearmy, he was plotting to escape from the island; he was holdingcorrespondence with his friends and the Catholics in Ireland,though declaring that he was not; and he was writing, with his ownhand, that in what he yielded he meant nothing but to get time toescape.

　　Matters were at this pass when the army, resolved to defy theParliament, marched up to London. The Parliament, not afraid ofthem now, and boldly led by Hollis, voted that the King'sconcessions were sufficient ground for settling the peace of thekingdom. Upon that, Colonel Rich and Colonel Pride went down tothe House of Commons with a regiment of horse soldiers and aregiment of foot; and Colonel Pride, standing in the lobby with alist of the members who were obnoxious to the army in his hand, hadthem pointed out to him as they came through, and took them allinto custody. This proceeding was afterwards called by the people,for a joke, Pride's Purge. Cromwell was in the North, at the headof his men, at the time, but when he came home, approved of whathad been done.

　　What with imprisoning some members and causing others to stay away,the army had now reduced the House of Commons to some fifty or so.These soon voted that it was treason in a king to make war againsthis parliament and his people, and sent an ordinance up to theHouse of Lords for the King's being tried as a traitor. The Houseof Lords, then sixteen in number, to a man rejected it. Thereupon,the Commons made an ordinance of their own, that they were thesupreme government of the country, and would bring the King totrial.

　　The King had been taken for security to a place called HurstCastle: a lonely house on a rock in the sea, connected with thecoast of Hampshire by a rough road two miles long at low water.Thence, he was ordered to be removed to Windsor; thence, afterbeing but rudely used there, and having none but soldiers to waitupon him at table, he was brought up to St. James's Palace inLondon, and told that his trial was appointed for next day.

　　On Saturday, the twentieth of January, one thousand six hundred andforty-nine, this memorable trial began. The House of Commons hadsettled that one hundred and thirty-five persons should form theCourt, and these were taken from the House itself, from among theofficers of the army, and from among the lawyers and citizens.John Bradshaw, serjeant-at-law, was appointed president. The placewas Westminster Hall. At the upper end, in a red velvet chair, satthe president, with his hat (lined with plates of iron for hisprotection) on his head. The rest of the Court sat on sidebenches, also wearing their hats. The King's seat was covered withvelvet, like that of the president, and was opposite to it. He wasbrought from St. James's to Whitehall, and from Whitehall he cameby water to his trial.

　　When he came in, he looked round very steadily on the Court, and onthe great number of spectators, and then sat down: presently hegot up and looked round again. On the indictment 'against CharlesStuart, for high treason,' being read, he smiled several times, andhe denied the authority of the Court, saying that there could be noparliament without a House of Lords, and that he saw no House ofLords there. Also, that the King ought to be there, and that hesaw no King in the King's right place. Bradshaw replied, that theCourt was satisfied with its authority, and that its authority wasGod's authority and the kingdom's. He then adjourned the Court tothe following Monday. On that day, the trial was resumed, and wenton all the week. When the Saturday came, as the King passedforward to his place in the Hall, some soldiers and others criedfor 'justice!' and execution on him. That day, too, Bradshaw, likean angry Sultan, wore a red robe, instead of the black robe he hadworn before. The King was sentenced to death that day. As he wentout, one solitary soldier said, 'God bless you, Sir!' For this,his officer struck him. The King said he thought the punishmentexceeded the offence. The silver head of his walking-stick hadfallen off while he leaned upon it, at one time of the trial. Theaccident seemed to disturb him, as if he thought it ominous of thefalling of his own head; and he admitted as much, now it was allover.

　　Being taken back to Whitehall, he sent to the House of Commons,saying that as the time of his execution might be nigh, he wishedhe might be allowed to see his darling children. It was granted.On the Monday he was taken back to St. James's; and his twochildren then in England, the Princess Elizabeth thirteen yearsold, and the Duke of Gloucester nine years old, were brought totake leave of him, from Sion House, near Brentford. It was a sadand touching scene, when he kissed and fondled those poor children,and made a little present of two diamond seals to the Princess, andgave them tender messages to their mother (who little deservedthem, for she had a lover of her own whom she married soonafterwards), and told them that he died 'for the laws and libertiesof the land.' I am bound to say that I don't think he did, but Idare say he believed so.

　　There were ambassadors from Holland that day, to intercede for theunhappy King, whom you and I both wish the Parliament had spared;but they got no answer. The Scottish Commissioners interceded too;so did the Prince of Wales, by a letter in which he offered as thenext heir to the throne, to accept any conditions from theParliament; so did the Queen, by letter likewise.

　　Notwithstanding all, the warrant for the execution was this daysigned. There is a story that as Oliver Cromwell went to the tablewith the pen in his hand to put his signature to it, he drew hispen across the face of one of the commissioners, who was standingnear, and marked it with ink. That commissioner had not signed hisown name yet, and the story adds that when he came to do it hemarked Cromwell's face with ink in the same way.

　　The King slept well, untroubled by the knowledge that it was hislast night on earth, and rose on the thirtieth of January, twohours before day, and dressed himself carefully. He put on twoshirts lest he should tremble with the cold, and had his hair verycarefully combed. The warrant had been directed to three officersof the army, Colonel Hacker, Colonel Hunks, and Colonel Phayer. Atten o'clock, the first of these came to the door and said it wastime to go to Whitehall. The King, who had always been a quickwalker, walked at his usual speed through the Park, and called outto the guard, with his accustomed voice of command, 'March onapace!' When he came to Whitehall, he was taken to his ownbedroom, where a breakfast was set forth. As he had taken theSacrament, he would eat nothing more; but, at about the time whenthe church bells struck twelve at noon (for he had to wait, throughthe scaffold not being ready), he took the advice of the goodBishop Juxon who was with him, and ate a little bread and drank aglass of claret. Soon after he had taken this refreshment, ColonelHacker came to the chamber with the warrant in his hand, and calledfor Charles Stuart.

　　And then, through the long gallery of Whitehall Palace, which hehad often seen light and gay and merry and crowded, in verydifferent times, the fallen King passed along, until he came to thecentre window of the Banqueting House, through which he emergedupon the scaffold, which was hung with black. He looked at the twoexecutioners, who were dressed in black and masked; he looked atthe troops of soldiers on horseback and on foot, and all looked upat him in silence; he looked at the vast array of spectators,filling up the view beyond, and turning all their faces upon him;he looked at his old Palace of St. James's; and he looked at theblock. He seemed a little troubled to find that it was so low, andasked, 'if there were no place higher?' Then, to those upon thescaffold, he said, 'that it was the Parliament who had begun thewar, and not he; but he hoped they might be guiltless too, as illinstruments had gone between them. In one respect,' he said, 'hesuffered justly; and that was because he had permitted an unjustsentence to be executed on another.' In this he referred to theEarl of Strafford.

　　He was not at all afraid to die; but he was anxious to die easily.When some one touched the axe while he was speaking, he broke offand called out, 'Take heed of the axe! take heed of the axe!' Healso said to Colonel Hacker, 'Take care that they do not put me topain.' He told the executioner, 'I shall say but very shortprayers, and then thrust out my hands' - as the sign to strike.

　　He put his hair up, under a white satin cap which the bishop hadcarried, and said, 'I have a good cause and a gracious God on myside.' The bishop told him that he had but one stage more totravel in this weary world, and that, though it was a turbulent andtroublesome stage, it was a short one, and would carry him a greatway - all the way from earth to Heaven. The King's last word, ashe gave his cloak and the George - the decoration from his breast -to the bishop, was, 'Remember!' He then kneeled down, laid hishead on the block, spread out his hands, and was instantly killed.One universal groan broke from the crowd; and the soldiers, who hadsat on their horses and stood in their ranks immovable as statues,were of a sudden all in motion, clearing the streets.

　　Thus, in the forty-ninth year of his age, falling at the same timeof his career as Strafford had fallen in his, perished Charles theFirst. With all my sorrow for him, I cannot agree with him that hedied 'the martyr of the people;' for the people had been martyrs tohim, and to his ideas of a King's rights, long before. Indeed, Iam afraid that he was but a bad judge of martyrs; for he had calledthat infamous Duke of Buckingham 'the Martyr of his Sovereign.'