The PARLIAMENTARY GENERAL

Chapter XI          The Arrest of the Five Members  
Chapter XII         The Paper War  
Chapter XIII        The King Beats All but Cromwell  
Chapter XIV        Marston Moor  
Chapter XV         Naseby   
Chapter XVI        Close of the First Civil War   
Chapter XVII       The Army Against the Parliament  
Chapter XVIII      The Second Civil War  
Chapter XIX        The Chief Delinquent   

About the time of his last visit to Scotland, Charles I had conceived the design of regaining his authority by destroying the leaders of the Parliamentary party. While in Edinburgh, he had in vain sought for the evidence of that correspondence between the members of his Parliament and the Scottish malcontents which he believed had led to the two Bishops’ Wars. Failing in this, he had bided his time, impatient and sick at heart to see each day taking from him something of his kingly power.

But it was religion more than politics that was now pushing the revolution forward. Had there been a satisfactory understanding on religion between the people and their King, the loyalty of British hearts would long since have restored contentment to the nation, and a sufficient authority to the King. But the prejudiced spirit of that age was stirred to distraction by the fear of a papal thraldom, and the knowledge which reached Pym, that Henrietta Maria was soliciting the pope for an armed force and for money with which to overthrow the Parliament, led to a secret discussion of the feasibility of impeaching the Queen.

Even the vacillating Charles could no longer delay. He loved his Queen with an ardor which now led him to imperil life and kingdom for her sake. Strafford, the far-seeing and fearless victim of Puritan prejudice, had counseled an attack on the Parliamentary leaders more than a year before, and Charles had hesitated to act. It was the brilliant and erratic Lord Digby who now proposed to save the Queen by destroying the conspirators.

John Pym, who ruled the House of Commons by the force of his genius; John Hampden, who had won the affection of all Englishmen in opposing ship-money; Sir Arthur Hazelrig, a stalwart agitator and afterwards one of the regicide judges; and Denzil Hollis and William Strode, who had held the Speaker in his chair twelve years before while the Remonstrance was read, were the five members selected for punishment; Lord Kimbolton, better known as Mandeville, in the House of Lords, was included with them. The impeachment was fixed for January 3, 1642. Sir Edward Herbert, the Attorney General, had received instructions, written in the King’s own hand, commanding him, as soon as the charge was laid before the Lords, to ask for a secret committee to examine the evidence. If any of the Puritan Lords were named as members of it, he was to object on the ground that the King intended to use them as witnesses.

On the appointed day, as soon as the Lords met, Herbert appeared and made the charge of high treason against the six persons named in his instructions. It was specified that they had traitorously endeavored to subvert the fundamental laws and government of the kingdom, and deprive the King of his regal power, and to place on his subjects an arbitrary and tyrannical power. That they had endeavored by many foul aspersions on His Majesty, and his Government, to alienate the affections of his people, and to make the King odious to them. That they had endeavored to draw the late Army into disobedience to the King’s command, and to side with them in their machinations. That they had invited the Scots to invade England. That they had endeavored to subvert the very rights and beings of Parliament. That they had endeavored, by force and terror, to compel the Parliament to join with them in their traitorous designs, and to that end had raised and countenanced tumults against the King and Parliament. Lastly, "that they have traitorously conspired to levy, and actually have levied war against the King."

The House of Lords was thunderstruck at this audacious move. The majority of the fifty-nine members present that day were loyal to the King, and only twenty-one of them afterwards opposed him in the Civil War. But they dared not to invite the imperious wrath of the Commons. The Attorney General asked for the arrest of the members. They took time to consider it till the next day, that they might see how the Commons would receive this attack. Lord Digby, who had volunteered to move for Kimbolton’s incarceration, whispered to that Lord that the King was ill advised, and hurried out of the House.

In the House of Commons, Pym had just stated that his own study, as well as those of Hampden and Hollis, had been sealed by the King’s orders; and it was resolved that to do this without leave from the House was a breach of privilege. A sergeant-at-arms now appeared with orders from the King to arrest the five members. A committee was named to acquaint the King that the demand concerned their privileges, and a reply would be returned as soon as they had given the subject full consideration. In the meantime, the five members would be ready to answer a legal accusation, and they were ordered to appear in their places from day to day.

If the charge of high treason against Strafford was a just charge, then the charge of high treason against Pym and his associates was likewise a just charge. If "to subvert the fundamental laws" meant to overthrow the uncertain precedents of former times, if it referred to the controversy between the prerogatives of the Crown and the privileges of the subject, which had started with King John’s barons at Runnymede, then Strafford was guilty, and Pym was guilty. For each had sought to efface the misty lines of the old constitution in accordance with the notions of power or right which he cherished as the correct theory of modern government. But it was a time of revolution, and revolutions are not governed by the solution of fine-spun ethical questions.

That night the King privately determined to arrest the five members himself. The next morning he wavered, and took the Queen aside to tell her his doubts of the wisdom of the act. Her quick French spirit would not hear him with patience. "Go, poltroon," she cried, "pull these rogues out by the ears, or never see my face more!" There is some palliation for her fierce words in the fact that it was her dignity and honor, perhaps her very life, that the Commons were preparing to attack. Charles obeyed her imperious command, knowing at the time that it was unwise, and referring to it afterwards as "a casual mistake." Had he seized the five members at early morning while they slept, his project might have been attended with success. He waited until three o’clock in the afternoon of January 4, and taking with him his young nephew, the Elector Palatine, he hurried down stairs, calling out, "Let my faithful subjects and soldiers follow me." At the door he entered his coach, and drove off followed by some four hundred armed men.

As the King and his retinue disappeared from her window, the Queen, impetuous and triumphant, communicated the secret of his purpose to the Countess of Carlisle. Lady Carlisle, who was believed to cherish a tender regard for the Puritan widower, Mr. Pym, stole out of the Queen’s presence, and dispatched a hasty note to Pym by a French messenger, whose swift foot would enable him to reach Westminster in advance of the King. The messenger ran breathless to the House of Commons, and delivered his message to Pym.

The House was instantly advised of the King’s approach, and the five members were requested to withdraw. Pym, Hampden, Hazelrig, and Hollis obeyed this prudent injunction, and left the House. Strode rashly proposed to remain, but a member seized him by the cloak and dragged him to the bank of the Thames where he took a boat for the city.

And indeed there was no time to be lost. As the King approached, followed by a fierce band of armed men, he struck terror into the hearts of the shopkeepers who gathered about Westminster. As he neared the Commons’ door, Charles, ever precise in his deportment, assumed a repose of manner which must have been foreign to his feelings at that fatal moment. Passing between the ranks of the armed throng, he opened the Commons’ door, and commanded his followers on their lives not to enter. He then passed in, accompanied only by Prince Charles Henry, the Elector Palatine. The members rose and uncovered, and the King himself took off his hat, and gained the Speaker’s stand. "By your leave, Mr. Speaker," he said, "I must borrow your chair a little." Standing in front of it, he darted a quick look on the right hand, near the bar of the House, looking for Pym whom he knew well. Not seeing him, he took another step towards the chair, which the Speaker vacated for him, but stopped again to search long and earnestly among the sullen faces of the standing members for the five fugitives.

The moment was a thrilling one. It was the first time that ever a King of England had appeared in the House of Commons. The door of the chamber was held open by the Earl of Roxburgh, and by his side stood Captain Hyde, a man of unsavory reputation. Beyond, in plain view of the members, were the soldiers handling their swords and pistols, and it was remarked that many of the King’s followers had thrown away their cloaks for the purpose of having their sword arms free.

The King at length sat down, and as his eyes still failed to detect the men he sought, he became somewhat embarrassed.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I am sorry for this occasion of coming unto you. Yesterday I sent a sergeant-at-arms upon a very important occasion, to apprehend some that, by my command, were accused of high treason, whereunto I did expect obedience, and not a message; and I must declare unto you here that albeit no King that ever was in England shall be more careful of your privileges, to maintain them to the uttermost of his power, than I shall be, yet you must know that in cases of treason no person hath a privilege, and therefore I am come to know if any of these persons that were accused are here."

Once more he cast his eyes around the House, and called aloud on Mr. Pym. "I do not see any of them," he said. "I think I should know them." And then, continuing his address, he went on, "For I must tell you, gentlemen, that so long as these persons that I have accused, for no slight crime, but for treason, are here, I cannot expect that this House will be in the right way that I do heartily wish it. Therefore I am come to tell you that I must have them wheresoever I find them."

He mentioned the name of Denzil Hollis, but there was no reply. He turned to Speaker Lenthall and inquired, "Are any of these persons in the House?" The Speaker, who was deeply affected, made an ingenious answer. Falling upon his knees, he said, "May it please Your Majesty, I have neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, in this place, but as this House is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am here; and I humbly beg Your Majesty’s pardon that I cannot give any other answer than this to what Your Majesty is pleased to demand of me."

"Well," said Charles, baffled, but attempting to assume an air of cheerfulness, "since I see all the birds are flown, I do expect from you that you will send them unto me as soon as they return hither. But I assure you, on the word of a King," he continued with great solemnity, as if in a last effort to impress them with a desire for a better understanding, "I never did intend any force, but shall proceed against them in a legal and fair way, for I never meant any other. And now, since I see I cannot do what I came for, I think this no unfit occasion to repeat what I have said formerly, that whatsoever I have done in favor and to the good of my subjects, I do mean to maintain it. I will trouble you no more, but tell you I do expect, as soon as they come to the House, you will send them to me, otherwise I must take my own course to find them."

The King stepped down from the Speaker’s chair, and left the House with gloom and disappointment on his brow. "Privilege, Privilege!" were the ominous words that were hurled at him by the members whom he had left behind. The Cavaliers who waited without were exasperated at the failure of his mission. They were ready for bloody work if the command had been spoken. "I warrant you," said one, looking through the open doorway at the Commons, "I am a good marksman. I will hit sure." An officer said the next day that they had gone to Westminster because they heard that the House of Commons would not obey the King, and therefore they came to force them to it. He thought if the word had been given they certainly would have fallen upon the members.

When the King returned to Henrietta Maria with the news of his failure, she was overcome with grief, and acknowledged that she had indiscreetly betrayed him to Lady Carlisle. Long afterwards she told Madame de Motteville that, although she had ruined his affairs, the King had never upbraided her for her lack of prudence.

The Commons instantly adjourned until one o’clock the next day, with the feeling that they had barely escaped violent death.

But the King could not stop now. He at once issued a proclamation, directing that the ports should be closed to prevent the escape of the five members and forbidding any person to harbor them.

The next day, January 5, he rode to the city, having with him in his coach the Duke of Hamilton and the Earls of Essex, Holland, and Newport, who were in high favor with the London populace. Arriving at Guildhall he demanded the five members from the Common Council. The feeling was divided. One faction shouted, "Parliament! Privileges of Parliament!" Others cried, "God bless the King!" Charles made a move for popularity by asking that those who had anything to say would speak their minds. "It is the vote of this Court," cried one, "that Your Majesty hear the advice of your Parliament." "It is not the vote of this Court," shouted another, "it is your own vote." The King took up this thought. "Who is it," he said, "that says I do not take the advice of my Parliament? I do take their advice, but I must distinguish between the Parliament and some traitors in it." A man shouted, "Privileges of Parliament!" "I have and will observe all the privileges of Parliament," answered the King, maintaining his patience, "but no privileges can protect a traitor from a legal trial." The five members were not surrendered, and the alternating shouts of "Privilege!" and "God save the King!" followed him to his coach. He stopped to dine with one of the sheriffs. On his way to Whitehall after dinner, a bold Puritan threw into his coach a paper on which was written, "To your tents, O Israel!"—a significant allusion to the war cry of the Israelites in their revolt against King Rehoboam.

As soon as Charles had left Guildhall the Common Council agreed on a petition in favor of the five members. The city thus arrayed itself officially on the side of the Parliament. In the meantime the Commons met at Westminster at one o’clock, drew up a declaration of their violated privileges, and adjourned until the 11^th. They continued to meet as a Committee of the Whole at Guildhall, under the protection of the city, where the unlawfulness of the impeachment was daily discussed. It has been declared that the only way to have legally prosecuted the five members was by trial before a petit jury on an indictment by the grand jury. But there was one precedent on the King’s side—a precedent established in his own reign in the impeachment of the Earl of Bristol. But it was now resolved that the King could not issue a warrant. The King was not accountable for his acts, and a warrant must be issued by one of the King’s ministers, who would be accountable. If the King made a false arrest, he could not be sued for damages. If the King’s officers made a false arrest, the injured party could obtain redress.

On the 7^th, a herald, standing in front of Whitehall, proclaimed the six impeached persons traitors, and an official was sent to the city to arrest them, but was compelled to return without them, having been badly treated by the mob.

On the 8^th, the Commons, sitting as a committee, passed a resolution declaring it to be legal to require the sheriffs to bring the militia forces of the county for the security of Parliament; and they called upon the Lord Mayor, the Aldermen, and the Common Council, on such a pressing and extraordinary occasion, to provide officers and men for their defense.

The next day was Sunday, doubtless a Sunday of great excitement. On Monday the 10^th, Philip Skippon, a plain, pious man, destined to win renown in the Parliamentary army, but now the Captain of the Artillery Garden, was appointed Sergeant Major-General, to take command of the city trained bands. Some of the members of the House of Lords, sitting in a similar manner as a committee, approved of these measures of protection. The sailors on the Thames offered to assist in the defense of Parliament, and their offer was accepted.

The five members were the heroes of the hour. Great crowds gathered around the lodgings of Pym, and four thousand horsemen of Buckinghamshire held themselves ready at a moment’s notice to ride to London to defend their representative, John Hampden. The other three accused members were guarded with equal solicitude.

Charles saw that he was beaten. He had frightened the Commons away from Westminster, but he had not crushed them. They were more formidable now as an oppressed committee in Guildhall than as a free Parliament in Westminster. The King felt certain that their next move would be to tear his Queen away from him. He determined to make his flight from the capital. The Earls of Holland and Essex, loyal to the Monarch though they opposed his assumptions of power, besought some who were in the King’s confidence to plead with him for delay. Heenvliet, the Dutch Agent, who was known to have the King’s ear, was finally appealed to, but as he beheld the mournful look of grim determination on that usually irresolute face, he could only reply, "Who would dare to do it?"

Charles turned his back upon his throne to save his wife. Acknowledging by flight the supremacy of his Parliament, he could take with him the consolatory conviction that he had denied them nothing which they had demanded in preservation of the liberties of Englishmen. He had sacrificed his favorite Minister, Strafford, who, guiltless of a capital crime, yet stood for the theory of autocratic authority. He had signed the bills which destroyed those arbitrary courts, the Star Chamber, the High Commission, and the Council of York, by the use of which his prerogative had been upheld. He had allowed this Parliament to exist during its own pleasure. He had assented to the bill for the compulsory assembling of triennial Parliaments. He had resigned his claims to the right of taxation without the consent of Parliament. By no single step, not even after they had the entire power of the State in their own hands, did the Parliament advance the political amelioration of England beyond the concessions which Charles had granted to them at the time of his flight. In fact, the revolution was already accomplished. Why, then, did they push the King to civil war? There were two reasons for it. They feared that Charles, still clinging to the ancient theories of monarchy, would overthrow the civil reforms which they had wrested from his unwilling hands, at any moment when, by possessing a sufficient army, he might feel himself strong enough to defy them. They likewise were in deadly apprehension lest his too Catholic Queen, whose influence in matters of faith they much over-rated, would turn the King to her own views, and then attempt to overwhelm the Protestant religion by an inundation of the dogmas of Rome.

On the 10^th of January, the King set out from Whitehall accompanied by a modest retinue. He was never to see that place again but as a prisoner condemned to death. It must have cut him to the heart when Essex and Holland refused to go with him, and told him that his proper place was with his Parliament. When the royal party reached Hampton Court that evening, no preparation had been made for their reception, and the King and Queen and three of their children slept in one room.

On the day following the King’s flight from the capital the Parliament returned to Westminster in triumph.

The Thames was covered with gaily-decorated craft, and its banks were lined by joyous citizens whose loud huzzas proclaimed the vindication of the privileges of Parliament. Two rows of boats were formed, reaching from London Bridge to Westminster Hall, and between these, in a vessel manned by sailors who had volunteered their services, the five members returned in a halo of popular glory to the seats from which an angry King had driven them one week before. As soon as Pym—now indeed "King Pym"—reached his old seat, he rose, and with Hampden, Hazelrig, Hollis, and Strode standing uncovered beside him, he gratefully, in behalf of himself and his companions, returned thanks to the citizens of London for the favors and protection which they had extended to the five men who were under the ban of a Monarch’s wrath. The sheriffs were then similarly thanked by a unanimous vote of the House, and orders were issued that a guard, selected from the train-bands of the city, should attend daily to watch over the safety of the Parliament.

It was a great day for the Parliamentary leaders. With more than half the nation at their back they never faltered in pressing on the revolution. They would employ peaceful means if possible; if not, they would endure bloodshed and war. The threatened arrest had cemented some discordant fractures in the Parliamentary ranks, it had brought over some wavering Lords to the popular side, and, above all, it had kindled in the hearts of the five members a sense of personal injury which nerved them to aggressions at which patriotism would have timidly paused. Lord Clarendon has observed that "Mr. Hampden was much altered after this accusation; his nature and courage seeming much fiercer than before." And it is certain that Pym and Hampden inspired and led those extremists for root-and-branch measures, both as to the Crown and the Church, whose fiery and uncompromising zeal overthrew all overtures for peace, and finally produced war. Among these men were Oliver Cromwell, Oliver St. John, and young Sir Harry Vane. Of the conduct of the Parliament after the King’s flight, the great Lord Chatham has justly said, "There was ambition, there was sedition, there was violence; but no man shall persuade me that it was not the cause of liberty on one side, and of tyranny on the other."

The purpose of the Commons to regard themselves as the principal part of the government was rather ludicrously shown in a vote that had passed not long before, in which it was declared that a majority vote of their House, together with a minority vote of the House of Lords, would be sufficient to enact laws. A perspicacious member who suggested that this principle could be reversed so as to make a majority of the Lords and a minority of the Commons defeat such legislation vas instantly committed for contempt, and made to retract his words before he could again assume his seat.

But the Lower House soon gave a more formidable expression to this assumption of superiority. They were desperately in need of money, and applied to the City of London for a loan. The authorities, under the dictation of Pym, refused to advance the funds except upon certain conditions, which were delivered in the form of twelve specific grievances, for which they demanded instant redress. These grievances consisted of those crying evils which had afflicted the nation since the beginning of the present reign. In a conference between the two Houses, Pym asked for the concurrence of the Lords in further restrictive legislation, and concluded a long speech in these words:

"The Commons will be glad to have your concurrence and help in saving of the kingdom; but, if they fail of it, it shall not discourage them in doing their duty. And whether the kingdom be lost or saved (I hope, through God’s blessing, it will be saved!), they shall be sorry that the story of this present Parliament should tell posterity that, in so great a danger and extremity, the House of Commons should be enforced to save the Kingdom alone, and that the Peers should have no part in the honor of the preservation of it, having so great an interest in the good success of those endeavors in respect of their great estates and high degrees of nobility."

The first step towards the beginning of the Civil War was now taken. At Hull, a town on the Humber, in the North of England, and commanding the sea, were still stored the munitions which had been collected for the second Bishops’ War. Besides, the place was convenient for the landing of such foreign troops as Charles might be able to enlist for the subjugation of his kingdom. The Parliament learned that the King had appointed the Earl of Newcastle to be Governor of Hull, and that he had given instructions to Captain Legg, an officer who had been concerned in the army plots, to hasten to Hull and secure the good will of the people in the North to their new Governor. The Parliament issued orders to Sir John Hotham to secure Hull by means of the Yorkshire trained bands, and not to deliver it up until he was ordered to do so by "the King’s authority, signified unto him by the Lords and Commons now assembled in Parliament." In a few minutes young John Hotham, the son of Sir John, and himself a member of Parliament, was spurring his horse over the frozen road, and it was a race for Hull between him and Captain Legg, in which Hotham arrived first, and secured the adherence of the old Knight to the Parliament.

In the face of such a stirring incident, the Lords joined with the Commons in measures looking to the common safety. A bill was promptly passed enabling Parliament to adjourn itself to any place it would, the intention being to enable it to sit at Guildhall instead of at Westminster. This was sent to the King, who was now gone to Windsor, and who returned answer that he would take time to consider the bill; and he took occasion to announce to the Parliament that, as the legality of his impeachment of the accused members had been disputed, he would now abandon it and proceed against them "in an unquestionable way." This declaration that he would not drop the prosecution threw the Commons into a greater irritation. Four thousand of Hampden’s constituents rode up from Buckinghamshire, and announced that they were ready to live and die in defense of the privileges of Parliament.

As the King’s friends were meeting in armed parties from time to time, the Parliament invited all the counties of England to call out their trained bands for drilling and defense. The declaration stated that all that had occurred amiss was caused by the papists. It was the firm belief of Parliament that there was a vast conspiracy for the restoration jointly of absolute monarchy and popery, and the Irish rebellion, the impeachment of the five members, and the growing cloud of civil war were considered to be due to the unfolding of that plot.

On January 17, 1642, Heenvliet, the agent of the Prince of Orange, was requested by the King to mediate with the Parliament. In this interview, Charles exhibited that singular insensibility to his environments which marked all his negotiations with the Parliament. Heenvliet asked him what message he should carry to them. "Tell them," replied Charles, "that you find me hard to satisfy, and then they will be anxious to secure your help." With his power and Crown already taken away, it was a bad time to tell them that he was hard to satisfy. The Queen was present and made bitter complaints of the Commons for their accusations against her. She declared that she had never given evil counsels to the King, and affirmed that she detested the Irish rebellion. The King, she said, would be content to enjoy his revenue as he had had it before these troubles, and would have his Parliament meet every three years instead of remaining in perpetual session. He would wait two days at Windsor for an answer. If none came he would take her and the Princess to Portsmouth where they would be put in safe custody, while he and the Prince of Wales would go on to Yorkshire. The King’s name, she said, was reverenced everywhere outside of London. He would issue a manifesto announcing his desire for peace and forbidding the trained bands to obey anyone but himself. But if they went to Portsmouth, she concluded, the Prince of Orange must not allow the King to perish. Nothing of good or ill resulted from Heenvliet’s interposition.

The two Houses passed a bill excluding the bishops from their seats in the House of Lords. It was a blow which paralyzed the power of the Church to interfere in temporal affairs. The King was much displeased. "How am I to take away the bishops," he said, "having sworn at my coronation to maintain them in their privileges and preeminences? At the beginning I was told that all would go well if I would allow the execution of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; then it was, if I would grant a triennial Parliament; then it was, if I would allow the present Parliament to remain sitting as long as it wished; now it is, if I will place the ports, the Tower, and the militia in their hands; and scarcely has that request been presented, when they ask me to remove the bishops." But Charles, anxious for peace, signed the Exclusion Bill, and appointed Conyers, a Puritan, to the Lieutenancy of the Tower, in place of Byron.

Beyond all that he had heretofore granted, he now consented to give them the control of the militia if they would but set a limit to the time at which their control should expire. Both Houses thanked him warmly for his concessions, but immediately impeached his loyal adherent, Lord Digby, for high treason, on account of a letter to the Queen in which Digby had only used expressions which proved his unswerving loyalty to the King. The King and Queen had now reached Dover in their hapless wanderings. Henrietta Maria, accompanied by her daughter and carrying with her the Crown jewels and much precious plate, set sail for Holland, entertaining a high hope of her ability to obtain both men and money for the rehabilitation of the King’s dignity. Charles bade her a most tender farewell, and galloped along the high gray cliffs with the vessel’s course, until the ship, bearing its precious burden, put out to sea and was lost to view. The Queen being out of danger, he refused to sign the militia ordinance.

The "Paper War," which name has been applied to the exchange of the messages between the King and his Parliament, was waxing warm. The King sent them word that he was willing to accept the persons to command the militia whom they would nominate, but they must receive their commissions from himself, and those commissions must cease whenever he should so desire it. As this arrangement would give them no security against the King’s caprice, the Houses voted that the answer was equivalent to a denial of their request. They begged him to fix his residence nearer to Westminster, as his peripatetic course was stirring up excitement and danger. "For my residence near you," the King answered, "I wish it might be so safe and honorable that I had no cause to absent myself from Whitehall; ask yourselves whether I have or not." The day after this answer was dispatched (March 2, 1642), Charles started for the North. On March 5, the Houses passed their ordinance putting the militia in charge of their own officers, and thus seized the power of the sword into their own custody. On the 9^th the King was overtaken at Newmarket by a Parliamentary committee. Would not His Majesty approve their control of the militia for a limited time? "No, by God," thundered the aroused King, "not for an hour. You have asked that of me in this, was never asked of a king, and with which I will not trust my wife and children." They read him a list of grievances. "That’s false!" "That’s a lie!" were the comments which he passed upon each article. "What would you have?" he cried. "Have I violated your laws? Have I denied to pass one bill for the ease and security of my subjects? I do not ask you what you have done for me. God so deal with me and mine, as all my thoughts and intentions are upright for the maintenance of the true Protestant profession, and for the observation and preservation of the laws of this land; and I hope God will bless and assist those laws for my preservation." The Earl of Pembroke begged Charles to come nearer to Westminster, and to say clearly what he desired. "I would whip a boy in Westminster School," he replied, "who could not tell that by my answer."

The King’s proclamation that the ordinances of the two Houses were not to be obeyed without his consent, drew forth a sharp answer from Parliament, which was revolutionary to the core, "that when the Lords and Commons in Parliament, which is the supreme court of judicature in the kingdom, shall declare what the law of the land is, to have this not only questioned and controverted, but contradicted, and a command that it should not be obeyed, is a high breach of the privilege of Parliament." The King adroitly quoted a speech of Pym’s against the present course of the Commons:

"Mr. Pym himself tells you, in his speech against the Earl of Strafford (published by the order of the House of Commons), ‘The law is the safeguard, the custody of all private interests; your honors, your lives, your liberties and estates are all in the keeping of the law; without this, every man hath a like right to anything.’ And we would fain be answered, what title any subject of our own kingdom hath to his house or land, that we have not to our town of Hull... We conclude with Mr. Pym’s own words: ‘If the prerogative of the King overwhelm the liberty of the people, it will be turned to tyranny; if liberty undermine the prerogative, it will grow into anarchy’; and so we say into confusion."

The Commons, in their reply to this deft thrust, struck the keynote of their own feelings in the controversy. "If," they answered, "we have done more than our ancestors have done, we have suffered more than ever they have suffered."

Their many denunciations of the King’s conduct, in which they dutifully charged its reprehensible parts to "his evil counselors," led Charles to say to them that "he could wish that his own immediate actions, which he avows on his own honor, might not be so roughly censured under that common style of evil counselors." This evoked a reply which showed that one principle, at least, of the old constitution remained intact and alive in the respect of the nation. "We, His Majesty’s loyal and dutiful subjects," said they, "can use no other style, according to that maxim in the law, The King can do no wrong, but if any ill be committed in matter of state, the council must answer for it; if in matters of justice, the judges." This ancient and humane concession to the individuality of the sovereign was swept away at a later day in that burst of fanaticism and party spirit which brought Charles to the block.

Charles, notwithstanding all the errors of his government, was intensely in earnest in striving to stop the tide of incivism which was overthrowing public order. In a further message to Parliament he quoted a fine passage from one of Pym’s speeches in the Strafford trial, thus showing his respect for Pym’s intellect and at the same time thrusting upon the Commons a rebuke in Pym’s own words. The King appealed to them thus:

"It was well said in a speech made by a private person (Mr. Pym), ‘The law is that which puts a difference betwixt good and evil, betwixt just and unjust. If you take away the law, all things will fall into a confusion; every man will become a law unto himself, which, in the depraved condition of human nature, must needs produce many great enormities. Lust will become a law, and envy will become a law; covetousness and ambition will become laws; and what dictates, what decisions such laws will produce, may easily be discerned.’ So said that gentleman, and much more, very well, in defense of the law, and against arbitrary power. It is worth looking over and considering; and if the most zealous defense of the true Protestant profession and the most resolved protection of the law be the most necessary duty of a Prince, we cannot believe this miserable distance and misunderstanding can be long continued between us; we have often and earnestly declared them to be the chiefest desires of our soul, and the end and rule of all our actions."

When Parliament asked his permission to bring the military stores from Hull to London, he correctly referred to their appointment of Hotham as an illegal act, and then made a candid appeal to their sense of right. He wrote:

"And now let us ask you; ... Will there never be a time to offer to, as well as to ask of us? We will propose no more particulars to you, having no such luck to please or to be understood by you. Take your own time for what concerns our particulars; but be sure you have an early speedy care of the public, that is, of the only rule which preserves the public, the law of the land; preserve the dignity and reverence due to that."

The "Paper War" was feeding a bitterness of spirit between the two parties which must soon break out into a sanguinary conflict. Charles firmly believed that the Puritan majority in the House of Commons was endeavoring to strip him of his lawful and regal authority in order to destroy the Established Church. The Commons just as firmly believed that Charles, under the inspiration of his Catholic spouse, was engaged in a wicked plot to establish the pope’s authority throughout the British dominions. Civil liberty had long since ceased to be the goal of this revolution. It was Protestantism, and all that Protestantism had done to make free the minds and the consciences of men, which was inspiring the conduct of the Commons. It was the old theory of the divine right and the individual power of the sovereign which led Charles to resist. And however exalted may have been the motives of the Commons, or however selfish the motives of the King, the candid historian cannot but acknowledge that the two parties were at cross-purposes, and that they were led into war rather by an overpowering suspicion which each held against the other’s rectitude, than by those irremediable oppressions which have always justified revolutions in the past, and will ever palliate them in the future.

The Queen was busily at work in Holland, and expected to be able to embark a band of mercenary soldiers whenever the King’s affairs might require their aid. She wrote to Charles that he must seize Hull in order to possess a seaport for landing troops, for the Parliament now controlled the Navy.

On the 19^th of March, 1642, the King and his retinue rode into York, and Charles exerted every art of his princely manner to win the cordial sympathy of his northern subjects. He likewise sought favor with the Puritans by ordering the execution of all the laws against the Catholics. The people received him loyally. Indeed, Charles had by this time gathered a party to his side in the pending controversy. In 1640 he had stood alone. In 1642, having yielded his assent to measures which made the formation of a model government possible, the fear of arbitrary power, which had once been held with full justice against him, was now held—shall we say with equal justice?—against the House of Commons. A large preponderance of the nobility and gentry was heartily in sympathy with the King. But up to this time there was a very small number indeed who would proclaim themselves ready to take arms against a Parliament to which the nation indubitably owed the establishment of its civil liberty.

Under the pretext of a wish to keep state at Easter and at the Feast of St. George, but really to demonstrate that the center of the State was present wherever his own person was, the King summoned the Lords Holland and Essex, with others from the Upper House at Westminster, to attend him at York. The House of Lords refused to let them go, and ordered them to remain in attendance upon their Parliamentary duties.

On March 25, the grand jury of Kent drew up a petition to the Parliament praying for the protection of the Episcopal religion, the prevention of the spread of sectarianism, the execution of the anti-Catholic laws, and the settlement of the militia by and with the King’s consent. This Kentish petition was the first formal declaration of any portion of the people in favor of the King’s cause. Its reading in the House of Commons excited the gravest indignation, and the persons who were instrumental in its preparation were summoned to Westminster as offenders against the privilege and dignity of Parliament, and two of them were committed to the Tower. Thus the Parliament, while giving the widest publicity to the petitions which favored their side of the dispute, violently attempted to throttle a fair discussion of the principles involved as seen from the Cavaliers’ point of view. With the vote which made prisoners of these Kentish petitioners, the outraged feelings of those in the minority brought the party spirit to a condition where war seemed to be the inevitable solution of the vexing question. It at once became apparent that this perpetual Parliament no longer represented the nation, but only a part—and no man could say how large a part—of the nation. The Commons were clearly aiming at arbitrary power under the sway of Pym, as much as the King had aimed at arbitrary power under the sway of Strafford. And men began to ponder, while forming themselves on the party lines of Roundhead or Cavalier, whether it were not better to preserve the ancient form of the government under the now limited prerogative of the King, than to tacitly permit the Commons to establish further new and untried theories in the organic constitution.

Orders were sent from Parliament to Hotham to reinforce his garrison at Hull, and a few days later a body of horsemen rode out of London to join the King at York. Pym still believed, or professed to believe, that he had all England at his back, but when a member proposed to send a delegation into each county to inquire into the state of public feeling, he was not willing to submit his popularity to such a test.

The King now informed the Parliament of his desire to lead an army into Ireland for the suppression of the rebellion which was still raging there, but the Parliament interpreted this offer as an attempt to place himself at the head of an armed host for their own subjugation, and they therefore begged him not to endanger the safety of his sacred person in such a laudable but hazardous expedition. Both parties were waiting for an overt act of war, each fearful to take the initiative.

The Queen was rashly importuning the King to begin hostilities by seizing Hull. She said in one of her letters:

"As to what you wrote me that everybody dissuades you concerning Hull from taking it by force, unless the Parliament begins, is it not beginning to put persons into it against your orders? ... For your having Hull is not beginning anything violent, for it is only against the rascal who refuses it to you… Think that if you had not stopped so prematurely, our affairs would perhaps be in a better state than they are, and you would at this moment have Hull."

The King accepted this logic, bad as it was. On the 22^nd of April he sent the Elector Palatine and his own son, the Duke of York, to visit the town, as if in the way of friendly inspection. With them were some fifty true men. The following day the King approached the town with only three hundred of his followers. When almost in sight of the walls he sent a message to Hotham informing him that he was coming to view his magazines. Had Charles ridden into the town unannounced, Hotham would hardly have dared to oppose his King’s entry into his own possessions. But forewarned, he had time to act. He closed the gates and raised the drawbridges, sending word to the King that he could not break his trust with the Parliament. In a few moments Charles appeared, and his men cried out to the garrison to kill Hotham and throw him over the wall. Charles offered to take only twenty men with him if the gates were opened. Hotham, fearing the royalist sentiment of the populace, on which the King doubtless counted, refused. The repulsed Monarch ordered the herald to proclaim Hotham a traitor, and rode away. The advantage was certainly with the Parliament. They at once issued an order for the removal of the Hull magazine to London; and on May 10 both Houses reviewed the London trained bands, to the number of 8,000, in Finsbury Fields.

On the 14^th the King issued an order requiring the gentry of the county to appear under arms at York on the 20^th as a guard for his person. He also sent instructions to Skippon, in command of the London trained bands, to come to York, and ordered the Lord Keeper to remove the law courts from Westminster to York. The Parliament promptly voted these orders illegal, and on the 20^th they declared that the King intended to make war on his Parliament, and begged him to desist from his purpose of raising troops.

The King’s guard was becoming formidable. He had now a regiment of trained bands, and about two hundred gentlemen of Yorkshire well mounted. He had summoned such of the Lords and Commons as were willing to support him to come to him, and many of them accepted his invitation. Indeed, a stream of persons of the better conditions began to set in towards York.

On June 2^nd a further step was made in the "Paper War" by the Parliament sending their Nineteen Propositions off to the King. In these propositions the Parliament sought to establish their own complete sovereignty. They were to select the King’s Council, his officials, the judges of the land. They were to control the Army and the Navy. The King’s guard was to be dismissed. The laws against Catholics were to be executed, and the children of Catholics educated as Protestants. The Episcopal Church was to be reformed according to the desires of Parliament. The boldness of these propositions was startling even to Charles, who would not expect to be startled by any demand they might make. Their adoption would completely abrogate the ancient constitution, and yet, except for the provisions against the Catholics and the references to merely temporary affairs, they were no more than a recital of those principles of popular government which prevail in England today.

Four days later they went still further in their claim of a right to administer all the functions of government, and that, too, in the King’s name. They declared that "what they do herein hath the stamp of royal authority, although his Majesty, seduced by evil counsel, do in his own person oppose or interrupt the same; for the King’s supreme and royal pleasure is exercised and declared in this high court of law and counsel, after a more eminent and obligatory manner than it can be by personal act or resolution of his own."

On the 3^rd of June there was a vast meeting of the farmers and freeholders of Yorkshire, by the King’s order, on Heyworth Moor, the gathering being variously estimated at from 40,000 to 80,000 persons. An effort to engage the sympathy of this mixed crowd wholly for the King did not fully succeed, as there were shouts all day for both King and Parliament.

The King had issued a proclamation forbidding the execution of the Militia Ordinance, but, finding his prohibition without avail, he determined to organize his own forces, and to that end he issued commissions of array, directing the trained bands to place themselves only at the disposal of officers appointed by himself.

In the meantime the Queen had sold her jewels and purchased arms in Amsterdam. She then successively applied for armed assistance from Holland, Denmark, Bavaria, France, and Spain, but received no encouragement; and the King, learning of these futile efforts, resolved then, as he should long ago have resolved, to depend upon Englishmen alone to correct whatever evils were arising from the encroachments of Englishmen. On June 13, he publicly declared that he would maintain the just privileges of Parliament, and would not make war upon them except in the necessary defense of himself and of the loyal subjects who surrounded his person. All the Peers at York, there being thirty-five, then joined in a protest that no aggressive war was intended, but that they, who were on the ground and familiar with the King’s designs, would testify to the world that all his endeavors were intended to secure the true Protestant religion, the just privileges of Parliament, the liberty of the subject, and the law, peace, and prosperity of the kingdom. This declaration of the Peers was the most important event that had occurred since the King’s flight from London, for it was the first distinct notice the world received that Charles had formed a Royalist party upon firm constitutional principles, led by the nobility of the realm, who were even now prepared to defend him with their swords.

Money and plate began to pour in both at Westminster and at York. The people were taking sides, and were willing to sacrifice all their possessions in defense of the cause they espoused. So narrow was the dividing line that families were often parted by a son choosing for the Parliament and a father for the King; and it has been said that there were families owning large estates, who, out of a fear of future confiscation, would send one member to the King and another to the Parliament, so that he who might be on the winning side could protect the interests of all.

Under the commissions of array the King’s officers attempted to assemble the trained bands. In some of the counties the militia obeyed them. In others they refused.

The greatest disadvantage which Charles had incurred when he fled from his capital was the abandonment of those financial resources which were his according to the law. He had but £600 when he left Whitehall, and he would long since have yielded through inanition had it not been for the generosity of two of his Catholic Peers, the Earl of Worcester and his accomplished son, Lord Herbert. By the time the King arrived at York he had received £22,000 from these devoted subjects, and when war appeared to be inevitable, Lord Herbert (afterwards, as the Marquis of Worcester, to become the inventor of that "fire-water machine" which preceded Watt’s discovery of steam by more than a century) drained all the resources of his family’s estates, and presented Charles with £100,000, which enabled the delighted King to prepare for war.

Charles now dismissed the Earl of Northumberland from his office of Lord High Admiral, and appointed Pennington in his place. The Parliament instantly appointed the Earl of Warwick, who arrived at the coast first, and, boarding the flagship, summoned the Captains of the fleet to accept him as their Admiral. Five of them stood for the King, but their crews were for the Parliament, and before the day had closed, Warwick’s authority had been conceded by the entire fleet.

On July 6, the Parliament resolved to raise an army in London and the surrounding country of ten thousand men. There were some staunch Puritans in the House of Commons who were appalled at this apparent inaugural of war. Sir Simonds D’Ewes, adhering to the majority, made this significant declaration, at a moment when the war cloud was already rolling overhead, and which posterity must accept as at least a partial vindication of the concessions which Charles I had already made to his people: "In respect of civil affairs," said D’Ewes, "I dare be bold to say that the liberty and property of the subject were never so clearly asserted to them as they are at present. The main matter then which yet remains to be secured to us is the reformation of religion."

The King was actively massing his troops in the North, and he now appointed the Earl of Lindsey General of his Army. On the 11^th of July the Parliament passed a declaration that the King had actually begun the war, and on the 12^th the Earl of Essex was appointed to command the Parliamentary Army. It was a stirring time at Westminster, and both Houses solemnly united in a declaration to live and die with Essex in the cause for which he had accepted their commission.

The great universities were with the King. Oxford sent him 10,000 pounds and Cambridge 6,000 pounds. On August 9^th Charles proclaimed Essex and his officers traitors, but offered a free pardon to all who would within the week throw down their arms. Colonel George Goring, who had betrayed the King in the army plot one year ago, now betrayed the Parliament, and held Portsmouth in the King’s name. In Warwickshire the Earl of Northampton took some guns that were sent by the Parliament for the defense of Warwick Castle. The Earl of Hertford had organized an enthusiastic band of Royalists in Somerset. On August 12, the King issued a proclamation inviting his loyal subjects to rally round the royal standard, which was shortly to be set up. On the 18^th the Parliament denounced as traitors all who gave assistance to the King. On the 20^th the King appeared before the walls of Coventry and demanded that the gates be opened. A sally followed, and some of his followers were killed.

On the 22^nd the King arrived at Nottingham, accompanied by his two sons and his nephew, Prince Rupert, together with a proper retinue. The royal standard was presently brought from the castle and firmly erected, and its silken folds were defiantly flung to the breeze, while a blare of trumpets from the heralds proclaimed that the Civil War had begun. An inauspicious wind blew down the standard the same night.

Prince Rupert, a heroic and splendid figure, now comes upon our story, and simultaneously with his advent into England are heard the loud alarums of war.

"This Prince," says an extravagant biographer, "began to be illustrious many ages before his birth, and we must look back into history above two thousand years, to discover the first rays of his glory." His father was Frederick, Prince Palatine of the Rhine and King of Bohemia, and his mother was Elizabeth Stuart, the beautiful sister of Charles I, called the Pearl of Britain, and beloved by one half of Europe for her sweetness and virtue and her sufferings in the Protestant War. Rupert, the young Palatine, was born on the 18^th of December, 1619, at Prague, and was the second son of his parents. He was ushered into the world amid the panoply and pomp of war. A knight in complete armor received the babe from the physicians’ hands, and the assembled nobles declared that he should be their future Grand Duke of Lithuania. But the fortunes of war drove the royal family out of Prague, and when the future Cavalier was one year old, his mother, then a fugitive from pursuing hosts, gave birth to her third son, the Prince Maurice (December 25, 1620). Then came those futile negotiations on the part of the English Court for the restoration of the Palatinate to this unfortunate family, which lasted through many years, and which have in part already been related. Young Rupert was sent to school at the University of Leyden, where he was "made Jesuit-proof," so that those "subtle priests with whom he had been much conversant, could never make him stagger."

The bigoted and tyrannical oppressions of Austria and Spain were suddenly opposed by the mailed hand of Sweden’s King, Gustavus Adolphus, and through his brilliant victories Protestantism was invincibly advanced on the Continent of Europe. The death of Gustavus on the field of Lutzen (1632) at the moment when his adversaries were dispersed in flight, deprived a victorious army of a powerful personal force. But the cause flourished; the Prince of Orange continued the warfare, and under him Rupert gained his first experience in arms. His earliest encounters on the field were marked by that gallant but reckless courage which afterwards, in the English Civil Wars, made him so illustrious a soldier and so unfortunate a commander. When he was sixteen years of age he accompanied his elder brother, Charles Louis, to England, where he was received with great favor at the Court of Charles. On his return he was made a Colonel in the Prince of Orange’s army, and in a fight in which he displayed great bravery was taken prisoner by the Austrians, and was for a long time confined in the fortress of Lintz, on the Danube River. Shortly after his release from this irksome captivity, the affairs of his royal uncle had reached a pass which caused the young Palatine to hasten to England, and he reached the harassed Monarch barely in time to attend the raising of the standard at Nottingham.

He was now nearly twenty-three. His portrait by Vandyke presents the figure of a tall and powerful youth, full of grace and dignity. He had large, dark eyebrows, a chiseled Norman nose, a firm and handsome mouth. His "love-locks" fell below his neck. His face was clean shaven. His eye was like that of the hawk, and like the hawk was his swoop upon the battlefield, audacious, swift, and cruel. He was a beautiful and indomitable Prince, whose life at the time of his arrival in England was sufficiently marked by romance to win the adoration of those gay horsemen of the King’s army over whom he was now appointed General. Rupert had great bodily vigor, quick decision, and an unfaltering but rash courage which would have made him an ideal cavalry leader if his authority had been subordinated to a capable commander. The time is coming when he must be held responsible for his share in the failure of the royal cause. Yet the strange paradox must be remembered that in all the battles in which he engaged he won his part of the fight. It was so at Edgehill, at Newbury, at Marston Moor, at Naseby. The forces which he personally opposed were put to slaughter or to flight, but while he swept like a whirlwind of death in the pursuit, disaster inevitably smote the friends who were battling behind him.

Oliver Cromwell, hitherto unknown to the English nation, now found a field in which the vast stature of his abilities was soon revealed. At the commencement of the Civil War he emerged from the obscurity of a Parliamentary career to which he was not suited, and embraced the soldier’s life like one born to the profession of arms.

He placed himself promptly on the side of the Puritans by subscribing £500 for the service.

In the middle of July (1642), he spent his own money to purchase arms which were sent to Cambridge for the defense of the county. Through the influence of his cousin, John Hampden, he was made captain of a troop of horse. His activity and energy were conspicuous at the outset. Riding into Cambridge early in August with a few followers, he found the University about to send its plate, valued at £20,000, to the King at Nottingham. He seized this fine offering and presented it to the Parliament. Two sons of Bramston, the ship-money judge, who were riding from York to London on the King’s business about the middle of August, were stopped by Cromwell and made to give an account of themselves.

The intelligence that came from Nottingham of the continued accessions to the King’s camp induced the Parliament with grim earnestness to prepare an army.

There was a natural hesitation in drawing up the commission for the Earl of Essex as Commander-in-Chief. It was a flagrant kind of high treason, compared with which, anything they had previously done could have been easily overlooked. But at length Essex was appointed "Lord General for King and Parliament," with instructions to deliver the person of His Sacred Majesty from malignant traitors and evil counselors who had seduced him. The Earl of Peterborough was General of the Ordnance. The Earl of Bedford was General of the Horse, with seventy-five troops of sixty men each. In troop sixty-seven the captain was Oliver Cromwell, the member for Cambridge. In troop eight there was another Oliver Cromwell, cornet, a son of the member for Cambridge, and then about twenty years old. Hampden was a colonel; Hazelrig and Hollis enlisted, making three of the five members to draw their swords against the King. Many other members preferred the Army to the legislature, and followed Essex; while still others joined the Royal Army at Nottingham. Thus it went on until the Parliament had mustered 15,000 men and the King about 12,000.

There is a story told in the old books of a visit which Cromwell made to Huntingdon, during which he learned of the active participation his uncle, that fine old Knight, Sir Oliver Cromwell, was taking in the Cavalier uprising. Sir Oliver was a staunch King’s man, and both he and his sons served the King with fidelity and zeal throughout the war. He had collected a store of arms for the Royal Army when the future Protector came riding into his country place, followed by a stout troop of Roundheads. The old Royalist entertained but small patience for the Puritan opinions of his nephew, and received him coldly. But Oliver was not to be rebuffed. He took off his hat dutifully, and insisted on keeping it off while in his uncle’s presence for near two hours, and even besought the old Knight’s blessing. When this favor had been reluctantly granted, he seized all the arms and ammunition about the place, and appropriated them, together with all of Sir Oliver’s plate, for the public service. The Journals of the House of Commons six years later (April 17, 1648) contain an entry which makes some reparation for this harsh conduct. When the Royalist cause had compassed the ruin of every man who adhered to the King, the sequestration of the estates of this broken Knight was, through the influence of his nephew, taken off, and he was permitted to enjoy his property in the day of Puritan ascendancy.

While making the most active preparations for war, both parties continued to utter the loudest asseverations for peace. The "Paper War" grew hotter as the time for actual conflict approached. The Parliament continued to demand the control of the Church and the Sword. The King continued to insist that he had already granted all that made the liberty and happiness of his people secure.

The Earl of Essex at length felt himself ready to move. On the 9^th of September, 1642, he set out from London in great state, accompanied by many members of both the Houses, and proceeded to St. Albans, where the full strength of the Parliamentary forces assembled. The appearance of the troops was extremely picturesque. The old feudal notion of military individuality was still popular. Hampden’s stout yeomen were arrayed in green coats; Colonel Meyrick’s in gray. Lord Saye and Lord Mandeville had dressed their men in blue. Purple distinguished Lord Brooke’s men; and Denzil Hollis led the London recruits in bright scarlet. The guards of Lord Essex adopted the buff leather coats, which afterwards became the uniform dress of the Roundheads. The Parliamentary standard was black, with a buff Bible, and the motto, in letters of gold, "God With Us." The men were supplied with arms and ammunition gathered from the fortress of Hull and from the Tower of London.

The King appointed Shrewsbury for the rendezvous of his army. In the meantime Prince Rupert was making his name a terror through the land. "This Prince," says a Parliamentary historian, "was a fiery youth, and with his flying squadrons of horse burnt towns and villages, destroying the countries where he came, and indulging his soldiers in plunder and blood." He levied ruthlessly on the possessions of all the enemies of the King, and the new word plunder, which had been brought into England from the wars of Gustavus Adolphus, was appropriately given to his marauding methods. He paused in his meteor-like progress long enough to send a challenge to the Earl of Essex to decide their cause by a duel, and the Earl declared his readiness to meet him. But King Charles I was the only man living whose sacrifice in single combat could have appeased the nation’s quarrel.

Sir John Byron was holding Worcester for the King; and Colonel Nathaniel Fiennes and Colonel Sandys, with a force of Parliament troops, marched thither (September 24) to drive him out. The attack was not well planned. Fiennes expected Essex to support him, but when he arrived he found Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers there, who put him to flight with a loss of four hundred slain. Essex came up on the 25^th with the main force, and Rupert and Byron retired with the prestige of first victory.

Late in September the King arrayed his army in the park at Shrewsbury. His forces were not so well equipped as those of the Parliament. There were more men from the organized county militia with the Parliament than with the King. But the Cavalier Lords had contributed their wealth with extraordinary liberality, and many of them rode into Shrewsbury with companies of soldiers who were dressed, armed, and mounted out of their private fortunes. Foremost in the array was the King’s troop of Life Guards under Lord Bernard Stuart, and composed of all the lords and gentlemen who had no separate commands. They still wore the casque and plume of the old Knights, and each guard was laced in a glittering cuirass with gay scarf and gilded sword belt. Steel pieces protected their shoulders and arms, and mailed gauntlets their hands. Cuisses over their thighs completed the defensive armor of the Cavaliers from the top of the head to the saddle-seat. Great leather boots capable of reaching the hip, though usually worn doubled down below the knee, covered their legs. An embroidered lace collar was worn for ornament, and their curled locks fell long and loosely on their shoulders. For arms they carried long, but rather slight straight swords, half basket-hilted, and a brace of clumsy pistols; some carried, besides, a short battle axe at the saddle-bow.

The ordinary cavalry troops were appointed after the same general fashion, though with less magnificence. Most of them were men who were able to bring their own horses into the field; others were fitted out by their great neighbors from the armories in the old baronial halls. Harquebusier was the name applied to these yeoman troopers, and they wore a lighter headpiece than the Cavalier, with bars of iron to protect the face, instead of a visor, and only a back- and breast-piece of steel. They carried the harquebuss or carbine, three feet in length, and a long straight sword. The dragoon was the third class of cavalry, dressed in a buff coat with long skirts, and wearing an iron skullcap, with cheek-pieces of the same metal. His musket was slung by a leathern belt across the right shoulder. Another belt carried his powder flask, priming box, bullets, and sword. There were a few lancers, though their service was not conspicuous except at Marston Moor. This cavalry was invincible throughout the war, and it broke the opposing ranks in every charge it made; but the high spirits of the men could never be subjected to a proper discipline, and its usual fortune was to sweep one wing of the opposing army off the field, and, while pursuing it in slaughter and pillage, leave the remaining troops to disaster at the hands of the other wing.

But the King’s reliance was mainly on his infantry. The pikeman was dressed in leathern doublet, steel cap, cloth hose, and square-toed shoes. Over his coat, when it could be obtained, was a back- and breast-piece of steel, with an iron hook at the back on which to hang his steel cap while marching. The musketeer wore a broad belt for his powder and bullets over his left shoulder, and a sword belt over his right. These were the prescribed dresses of the infantry. But it must be told that there were hundreds of them who came to Shrewsbury wearing their farming clothes, and armed with nothing but the rude implements of husbandry; and indeed, at the opening of the war, there were a few who viewed the conflict empty-handed, incapable for the time either to attack or defend.

The King began his march with about 2,000 cavalry, 6,000 infantry, and 1,500 dragoons. His artillery and his non-combatant followers swelled his total force to 12,000. The line of his march was straight to London.

Essex, as we have seen, commanded an army of 15,000 men. He sat still at Worcester until the King had advanced a day ahead of him towards the capital. This situation threw the Parliament into great terror, and there was a suspicion that a large part of the London citizens would grant aid and comfort to the King as soon as he came within safe distance. They sent messengers to Essex, commanding him to make all speed to their relief, and they themselves exhausted every effort to strengthen their defenses. On Sunday, October 23, 1642, Essex came in sight of the King at Edgehill, near Keinton, on the south edge of Warwickshire.

The King was astir at sunrise. Taking with him his sons, the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, then in their tender youth, he ascended the hill. Prince Rupert and the Cavalier officers were already there. The King applied his prospective glass. The air was cold and clear. Far below him lay the vale of Red-Horse, extending in an unbroken plain to the town of Keinton. About one mile distant was the Lord General and the Parliamentary army, forming for the first battle of the Civil War. There was no haste on either side, and each seemed reluctant to make the first attack.

When Essex had completed his preparations he sat still on the plain. Far up on the hillside the Cavaliers began to move. But a dispute arose as to the order of battle. Lord Lindsey, the King’s General, had fought with Essex in the continental wars, and he now desired to follow the Low Country rules of cautious maneuver. Rupert, on the other hand, urged that a bold dash on the raw levies of the Roundheads would end it all. The King yielded to Rupert, and Lindsey, refusing to draw up a battle on another’s plan, declared that he would fight for his King as a simple colonel at the head of his Lincoln regiment. His son, Lord Willoughby, who commanded a troop in the Prince of Wales’ regiment, refused after this affair to fight under Rupert, and he took his post at his father’s side on foot. Charles then appointed Lord Ruthven, an experienced commander, to the post of General, thus, in his usual absence of tact, fostering private grievances on a most inopportune occasion. The formation of the King’s line then proceeded slowly. The infantry did not arrive until eleven o’clock, and the artillery not until one. The royal troops came down the hill, and the cautious Essex permitted them to form their lines on the plain without molestation. There were earnest prayers said in both armies. In the Puritan ranks the preachers rode through every regiment, exhorting their men in God’s name. Among the King’s men this prayer from old Sir Jacob Astley has been preserved. "O Lord!" he said, "thou knowest how busy I must be this day. If I forget thee, do not thou forget me!" Then rising from his knees, he cried, "March on, boys!"

It was near three o’clock when three shots from the Parliament guns opened the battle. The King’s artillery instantly responded. There was a blaze of fire along both lines, and the Cavaliers advanced rapidly. The King’s Life Guard, impatient of restraint, had obtained permission to charge with Prince Rupert, leaving Charles under inadequate protection. As the royal cavalry rode on, Sir Faithful Fortescue and his entire regiment left the Parliamentary ranks and joined the Cavaliers, although some of his men were killed before their desertion was understood. Essex knew not how many others would behave with similar treachery, but the defection was forgotten in the assault that ensued. The Prince was charging their left wing. A thousand swords flashed in the afternoon sun. "For God and the King!" was the shout that came from every throat. The mettled steeds were urged onward with spur and voice. No foe could withstand that charge. It was the chivalry of England attacking the rude train-bands of the Midland counties. There was no resistance. Denzil Hollis and young Colonel Essex vainly strove to hold the Puritans. They turned and fled, throwing away their arms as they ran, but even then too slow to avoid the slaughter. Tired out with chasing the fleeing enemy, the Cavaliers turned to pillage the wagon trains, and found spoil enough to complete the equipment of their army.

From the King’s left wing the Cavaliers charged with equal impetuosity, and Meldrum’s Puritans fled with equal haste. The forces under Sir Arthur Aston, General Wilmot, Sir John Byron, and Lord Digby routed and pursued the Puritan right wing. With victory nearly won, the King’s infantry now stood unsupported in the center. In their extreme rear was the King, almost alone. It was the Lord General’s opportunity. Colonel Ballard charged in upon the royal artillery and cut down the gunners. His cry was "God with us!" Then, wheeling round, he struck the infantry in rear. Bad generalship on the King’s side was now apparent. The Cavaliers had held no reserve. Their center was broken and put to flight with disaster equal to any that had befallen the Roundheads. The King’s person was in danger. Threescore men fell dead in front of him. The Parliament men cut through the guard that had remained about him, and after a fierce fight captured the royal standard, killing Sir Edmund Verney, who bravely defended it. At the same time Lord Lindsey fell, mortally wounded, and his son, Lord Willoughby, was taken prisoner by his side. Charles had now less than a hundred of his guard with him. The Duke of Richmond and Sir John Culpepper urged the King to fly, but he sternly refused. His physical courage was beyond dispute. His fortunes were staked on this day’s fight, and he would abide the result. He saw that Ruthven and Astley were still keeping the division under Essex hotly engaged. His guards continued to fight. The royal standard was floating over the heads of a body of exultant Puritans, and Captain John Smith, of the King’s Life Guard, spurred his charger into the very midst of them, recaptured it, and, returning it to the King, was knighted on the spot. At this moment Prince Rupert appeared, and desired to re-form for another charge. He would probably have carried the day, as Essex, having spent all his ammunition and seeing half his army in flight, believed himself defeated, and had taken his stand in front of his pikemen, resolved to die with them in the next assault. But night was falling on the field. Nearly six thousand on both sides had fallen. Both men and horses were spent. The battle was undecisive. The King, while not beaten, could not claim a victory. "In this doubt on all sides," says Lord Clarendon, who was with the King all day, "night, the common friend to wearied and dismayed armies, parted them."

Of Oliver Cromwell, we only know that he was in this battle. The part he took was not important.

King Charles retired with his much weakened forces to the hill, while Essex, equally broken, bivouacked upon the field. The night was cold, and there was neither tree nor hedge to protect the men from the biting wind. Provisions were scarce, and wounded men died from lack of nourishment and care, while many of those who were unhurt slept supperless upon the stony ground.

The next day the two armies faced each other in sullen quiet. Essex had received during the preceding night fresh troops to the number of twenty-five hundred, including John Hampden’s regiment of horse, and he was advised to renew the battle, but refused to do so.

On Monday evening the King retired in order, and on Wednesday he reached Banbury, where the castle and town surrendered to him without a blow, and a regiment of the Parliamentary troops joined his army. After appointing a governor and garrison for Banbury Castle, he proceeded to Woodstock, and thence to Oxford, the one entirely loyal spot in England. Here he held his quarters through the winter, while Lord Essex established himself at Warwick.

In the meantime Prince Rupert was marauding fiercely over the country, and coming dangerously near to London, so that Essex was summoned back to Westminster, where he received the thanks of Parliament and a gratuity of 5,000 pounds. The Prince captured Lord Saye’s house at Broughton, and at other places laid rude hands on money, clothing, forage, and goods of every variety, wheresoever he could find them. The King’s cause was highly prosperous. In Yorkshire the Earl of Cumberland had raised large levies, and Lord Newcastle had beaten the Fairfaxes, Sir Hugh Cholmondeley, and the Hothams. Sir Ralph Hopton, one of the ablest of the King’s generals, was recruiting a powerful army in the West. In Wales the Earl of Worcester, with a great body of the Welsh, maintained the authority of the Crown.

The Parliament sent to Scotland imploring the aid of that kingdom, and began to talk about making a treaty of peace. During the first year of the war there was a much larger degree of success on the King’s side than on that of the Parliament. As soon as Charles had established himself in Oxford and sufficiently fortified the town, he began a gradual approach to London. As he neared Reading, Henry Marten, the Parliament’s governor, and himself a member of the House of Commons, fled to London with his garrison, leaving the place to Prince Rupert’s men. At Reading the King received the Parliament’s request for a safe-conduct for their committee on a treaty of peace. He instantly issued the pass, only objecting to Sir John Evelyn whom he had previously proclaimed a traitor. Thereupon the Parliament declared that it was a high breach of privilege to except any one of their House. The King then moved to Colebrooke, on the outskirts of the capital, when the Parliament, yielding to their own fears and the clamor of the citizens of London, sent again to sue for peace, passing over the breach of privilege, and asking him to appoint a place near London for the conference. He proposed Windsor Castle, or, if that were refused, he would receive their proposals even at the gates of London. While these topics were under discussion the King moved on Brainford, still nearer to London, where Prince Rupert furiously attacked the Parliamentary troops, and after beating back Hampden, Hollis, and Brooke, he held the place, and captured five hundred prisoners and fifteen guns. The assault was unexpected by the Roundheads, and there was a loud outcry that the King had taken advantage of a cessation of hostilities to attack them. Essex drew near with the city forces, and the Royalists retired to Reading, and thence to Oxford for the winter. Essex advanced to Tedstock, only ten miles from Oxford, and sat down there, where the pickets of the two armies were in sight of each other for many weeks.

The King kept his troops in good humor by paying them regularly, their weekly earnings amounting to three thousand pounds. These and other enormous expenses were met wholly by the voluntary contributions of the King’s friends.

The Parliament, possessing larger resources, paid the expenses of the war with less difficulty. They had, even prior to the battle of Edgehill, confiscated all the King’s revenues, which were now augmented by their seizure of all the income of the Church and by the sequestration of the property of Cavaliers.

In January (1643) the Parliament sent a committee to treat for peace, but there was no spirit of accommodation on either side; the Parliament made demands which the King would not grant, and the negotiations came to nothing. While the treaty was still sitting intelligence was received that Rupert had taken Cirencester, the most important capture yet made on the King’s account.

In February the Queen arrived in the North from Holland with a large escort and plenty of money and arms. She was met at Burlington by a party of Cavaliers dispatched thither by the Earl of Newcastle, the brave Marquis of Montrose being with them. Henrietta Maria began a triumphal march to York, and the power of Majesty attracted to her standard hundreds of the men of Yorkshire who were loyal to the King’s cause. At York, where she was most enthusiastically received by the people, she assumed a residence, being unable to journey to the King at Oxford, through fear of the many Parliamentary troops who lay between that city and York.

Charles was impatient to enjoy the society of his beloved Queen, and he dispatched Prince Rupert to cut his way to the North and bring her to him. The bold Prince eagerly accepted this commission, and on his way thither he captured Birmingham and Lichfield after hard fighting. At Gloucester the King’s forces, under Lord Herbert of Glamorgan, were beaten by Sir William Waller, and Rupert was recalled from his northward march by the unexpected action of Lord Essex in laying siege to Reading. Before the Prince could arrive in time to succor the garrison, the place was indiscreetly surrendered by Colonel Fielding, who was permitted to retire with his forces to Oxford. For this unsoldierly behavior Fielding was sentenced to death, but was afterwards pardoned and fought through the war as a common soldier. In the West of England, the Royalists, under Sir Ralph Hopton, Lord Hertford, and Prince Maurice, were winning victories over the Earl of Stamford. In the North the Earl of Newcastle was disputing every inch of ground with the Fairfaxes.

Oliver Cromwell, now a colonel, had been active all winter in organizing the military forces of the "Eastern Association," composed of the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Cambridge, Herts, Hunts, and Lincoln. When the high sheriff of Herts attempted to read the King’s commission of array, Cromwell attacked him, captured him, and sent him down to London, where the Parliament ordered him into confinement. In Norfolkshire Cromwell dispersed a party of Royalists at Lowestoft, and crushed out all open sympathy for the Cavalier cause in the territory of the Eastern Association. There were 12,000 militia organized in these counties, which Cromwell assembled at Cambridge upon information that Lord Capel intended to make an attack on the town; but, as the Royalists thought it prudent not to approach the place, Cromwell permitted them to return to their various counties, advising them to stand ready for another alarm.

Cromwell had said to John Hampden, after the battle of Edgehill, that the army must be recruited from better men. He continued:

"Your troops are most of them old decayed serving men and tapsters, and such kind of fellows; and their troops (i.e., the Cavaliers) are gentlemen’s sons, younger sons, and persons of quality. Do you think that the spirits of such base and mean fellows will be ever able to encounter gentlemen, that have honour and courage and resolution in them? You must get men of a spirit; and take it not ill what I say—I know you will not—of a spirit that is likely to go on as far as gentlemen will go: or else you will be beaten still."

What he meant was that they should have the spirit of religion in them. Hampden replied that it was a good notion if it could be executed. Cromwell was guided by this theory in his selection of men from that moment. He was not bigoted as to the religious opinions of his men, provided only that they were not papists. One of his recruiting officers had objected to a certain man because he was an Anabaptist, which, coming to the ears of Cromwell, drew from him the following forcible letter, outlining a broad and wise policy in the handling of men, and disclosing his own invincible views of justice and right:

"To Major-General Crawford: These.

"Cambridge, 10^th March, 1643.

"Sir: The complaints you preferred to my Lord against your Lieutenant-Colonel, both by Mr. Lee and your own Letters, have occasioned his stay here my Lord being so employed, in regard of many occasions which are upon him, that he hath not been at leisure to hear him make his defence: which, in pure justice, ought to be granted him or any man before a judgment be passed upon him.

"During his abode here and absence from you, he hath acquainted me what a grief it is to him to be absent from his charge, especially now the regiment is called forth to action: and therefore, asking of me my opinion, I advised him speedily to repair unto you. Surely you are not well advised thus to turn off one so faithful to the Cause, and so able to serve you as this man is. Give me leave to tell you I cannot be of your judgment; cannot understand, if a man is notorious for wickedness, for oaths, for drinking, hath as great a share in your affections as one who fears an oath, who fears to sin—that this doth commend your election of men to serve as fit instruments in this work!

"Ay, but the man ‘is an Anabaptist.’ Are you sure of that? Admit he be, shall that render him incapable to serve the Public? ‘He is indiscreet.’ It may be so in some things: we have all human infirmities. I tell you, if you had none but such ‘indiscreet men’ about you, and would be pleased to use them kindly, you would find as good a fence to you as any you have yet chosen.

"Sir, the State, in choosing men to serve it, takes no notice of their opinions; if they be willing faithfully to serve it, that satisfies. I advised you formerly to bear with men of different minds from yourself: if you had done it when I advised you to it, I think you would not have had so many stumbling-blocks in your way. It may be you judge otherwise; but I tell you my mind. I desire you would receive this man into your favour and good opinion. I believe, if he follow my counsel, he will deserve no other but respect from you. Take heed of being sharp, or too easily sharpened by others, against those to whom you can object little but that they square not with you in every opinion concerning matters of religion. If there be any other offence to be charged upon him, that must in a judicial way receive determination. I know you will not think it fit my Lord should discharge an Officer of the Field but in a regulate way. I question whether you or I have any precedent for that.

"I have not farther to trouble you: but rest, your humble servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

This bold and tolerant doctrine was not in sympathy with the Presbyterian sentiment which was fast becoming a part of the Puritan character. Baillie, the Scottish Commissioner, writes at this period that Cromwell "is a very wise and active head, universally well beloved as religious and stout, but a known Independent; the most of the soldiers who loved new ways put themselves under his command." From the start he exacted of his soldiers that they should be God-fearing and devout, and it was his art in every action to stir their religious enthusiasm until they were transported with an irresistible valor.

He was persistent and inexorable in his rule of enlisting for the war only men of good character. A society of young men and women had written to him offering to assist in the work of recruiting. He replied in these practical words:

"I approve of the business: only I desire to advise you that your ‘foot company’ may be turned into a troop of horse, which indeed will, by God’s blessing, far more advantage the Cause than two or three companies of foot, especially if your men be honest godly men, which by all means I desire. I thank God for stirring-up the youth to cast in their mite, which I desire may be employed to the best advantage; therefore my advice is, that you would employ your Twelve-score Pounds to buy pistols and saddles, and I will provide Four-score horses; for 400 l. more will not raise a troop of horse. As for the muskets that are bought, I think the Country will take them of you. Pray raise honest godly men, and I will have them of my regiment. As for your Officers, I leave it as God shall or hath directed to choose."

These principles are unusual in the history of wars. The demand of most generals is for men, it matters not what kind of men so that they be able to march and carry guns. But Cromwell would have none but those he delighted to describe as "God-fearing" and "sober." This was the secret of his success, and all the fruits of his wars sprang from his knowledge of men and his power to ennoble whole regiments by stamping his own character upon them. Let us transcribe the following letter as evincing his insistence on this point, and displaying at the same time his correct military foresight and judgment:

"To my noble Friends, Sir William Spring, Knight and Baronet, and Maurice Barrow, Esquire: Present these.

"Cambridge, September, 1643.

"Gentlemen:

"I have been now two days at Cambridge, in expectation to hear the fruit of your endeavours in Suffolk towards the public assistance. Believe it, you will hear of a storm in a few days! You have no Infantry at all considerable; hasten your Horses; a few hours may undo you, neglected. I beseech you be careful what Captains of Horse you choose, what men be mounted: a few honest men are better than numbers. Some time they must have for exercise. If you choose godly honest men to be Captains of Horse, honest men will follow them; and they will be careful to mount such.

"The King is exceedingly strong in the West. If you be able to foil a force at the first coming of it, you will have reputation; and that is of great advantage in our affairs. God hath given it to our handful; let us endeavour to keep it. I had rather have a plain russet-coated Captain that knows what he fights for and loves what he knows, than that which you call ‘a Gentleman’ and is nothing else. I honour a Gentleman that is so indeed!

"I understand Mr. Margery hath honest men will follow him: if so, be pleased to make use of him; it much concerns your good to have conscientious men. I understand that there is an Order for me to have 3000 l. out of the Association; and Essex [i.e., the county] hath sent their part, or near it. I assure you we need exceedingly. I hope to find your favour and respect. I protest, if it were for myself, I would not move you. That is all, from your faithful servant,

"Oliver Cromwell.

"P.S.: If you send such men as Essex hath sent, it will be to little purpose. Be pleased to take care of their march; and that such may come along with them as will be able to bring them to the main Body; and then I doubt not but we shall keep them and make good use of them. I beseech you, give countenance to Mr. Margery! Help him in raising his Troop; let him not want your favour in whatsoever is needful for promoting this work; and command your servant. If he can raise the horses from Malignants, let him have your warrant: it will be of special service."

By and bye there come officious persons among the committees who dislike some of the soldiers and their doings. Cromwell is vigorous and high-minded in their defense. The letter which he here answers must have contained something very much like "horse-stealing"; his reply indicates that, and there is so much ebullition of spirit in his pen that he signs his letter and then writes again, and in the postscript mentions a beast which he himself has had assigned to his use, and which, if the owner can prove himself not a malignant Royalist, he is most anxious to pay for:

"To his honoured friends, Sir William Spring and Mr. Barrow: These present.

"Holland, Lincolnshire, 28^th Sept., 1643.

"Gentlemen:

"It hath pleased God to bring off Sir Thomas Fairfax his Horse over the river from Hull, being about One-and-twenty Troops of Horse and Dragoons. The Lincolnshire Horse laboured to hinder this work, being about Thirty-four Colours of Horse and Dragoons: we marched up to their landing place and the Lincolnshire Horse retreated.

"After they were come over, we all marched toward Holland; and when we came to our last quarter upon the edge of Holland, the Enemy quartered within four miles of us, and kept the field all night with his whole body; his intendment, as we conceive, was to fight us; or hoping to interpose betwixt us and our retreat; having received, to his Thirty-four Colors of Horse, Twenty fresh Troops, ten companies of Dragoons, and about a Thousand Foot, being General King’s own Regiment. With these he attempted our guards and our quarters; and, if God had not been merciful, had ruined us before we had known of it; the Five Troops we set to keep the watch failing much of their duty. But we got to horse, and retreated in good order, with the safety of all our Horse of the Association; not losing four of them that I hear of, and we got five of theirs. And for this we are exceedingly bound to the goodness of God, who brought our troops off with so little loss.

"I write unto you to acquaint you with this; the rather that God may be acknowledged; and that you may help forward, in sending such force away unto us as lie unprofitably in your country. And especially that Troop of Captain Margery’s, which surely would not be wanting, now we so much need it!

"I hear there hath been much exception taken to Captain Margery and his officers for taking of horses. I am sorry you should discountenance those who (not to make benefit to themselves, but to serve their Country) are willing to venture their lives, and to purchase to themselves the displeasure of bad men, that they may do a Public benefit. I undertake not to justify all Captain Margery’s actions: but his own conscience knows whether he hath taken the horses of any but Malignants; and it were somewhat too hard to put it upon the consciences of your fellow Deputy Lieutenants, whether they had not freed the horses of known Malignants? A fault not less, considering the sad estate of this Kingdom, than to take a horse from a known honest man; the offence being against the Public, which is a considerable aggravation! I know not the measure every one takes of Malignants. I think it is not fit Captain Margery should be the judge; but if he, in this taking of horses, hath observed the plain character of a Malignant, and cannot be charged for one horse otherwise taken, it had been better that some of the bitterness wherewith he and his have been followed had been spared! The horses that his Cornet Boulry took, he will put himself upon that issue for them all.

"If these men be accounted ‘troublesome to the Country,’ I shall be glad you would send them all to me. I’ll bid them welcome. And when they have fought for you, and endured some other difficulties of war which your ‘honester’ men will hardly bear, I pray you then let them go for honest men! I protest unto you, many of those men which are of your Country’s choosing, under Captain Johnson, are so far from serving you, that, were it not that I have honest Troops to master them, although they be well paid, yet they are so mutinous that I may justly fear they would cut my throat! Gentlemen, it may be it provokes some spirits to see such plain men made Captains of Horse. It had been well that men of honour and birth had entered into these employments; but why do they not appear? Who would have hindered them? But seeing it was necessary the work must go on, better plain men than none; but best to have men patient of wants, faithful and conscientious in their employment. And such, I hope, these will approve themselves to be. Let them therefore, if I be thought worthy of any favour, leave your Country with your good wishes and a blessing. I am confident they will be well bestowed. And I believe before it be long, you will be in their debt; and then it will not be hard to quit scores.

"What arms you can furnish them withal, I beseech you do it. I have hitherto found your kindness great to me; I know not what I have done to lose it; I love it so well, and price it so high, that I would do my best to gain more. You have the assured affection of your most humble and faithful servant,

"Oliver Cromwell.

"P.S.: I understand there were some exceptions taken at a Horse that was sent to me, which was seized out of the hands of one Mr. Goldsmith of Wilby. If he be not by you judged a Malignant, and that you do not aprove of my having the Horse, I shall as willingly return him again as you shall desire. And therefore, I pray you, signify your pleasure to me herein under your hands. Not that I would, for ten thousand horses, have the Horse to my own private benefit, saving to make use of him for the Public; for I will most gladly return the value of him to the State. If the Gentleman stand clear in your judgments, I beg it as a special favour that, if the Gentleman be freely willing to let me have him for my money, let him set his own price; I shall very justly return him the money. Or if he be unwilling to part with him, but keeps him for his own pleasure, be pleased to send me an answer thereof; I shall instantly return him his Horse; and do it with a great deal more satisfaction to myself than keep him. Therefore I beg it of you to satisfy my desire in this last request; it shall exceedingly oblige me to you. If you do it not, I shall rest very unsatisfied, and the Horse will be a burden to me so long as I keep him."

Cromwell received his training in the art of war from Colonel Dalbier, a soldier who had fought in the Low Countries, and who gave vast assistance to Oliver in drilling and marching his recruits. But the real discipline of war they received from Cromwell himself. At first unskillful in handling their arms and managing their horses, they soon became, by diligence and industry, excellent soldiers. Cromwell required them daily to look after, feed, and groom their horses, and, on occasion, to lie with them upon the ground. He taught them to keep their arms bright and clean, and to have them ready for service; to choose the best armor, and to be armed for action when danger was impending. At the outbreak of the war he devised a stratagem to test their spirit. Twelve of his men were, unknown to their fellows, placed in ambush and the rest of the troops were marched thither. At a signal the twelve charged furiously with trumpet blast and battle cry upon the unsuspecting soldiers, who were thrown into much confusion, and many of them turned and fled. When they paused for breath and discovered that the attack was made by their own comrades, they were so overcome with shame that they all vowed never to run again; and they never did.

Sir Philip Warwick, the Royalist writer, says that Cromwell taught his men, "as they too readily taught themselves, that they engaged for God, when he led them against His vicegerent, the King; and where this opinion met with a natural courage, it made them the bolder, and too often the crueller. ... And these men, habited more to spiritual pride than carnal riot or intemperance, so consequently having been industrious and active in their former callings and professions, where natural courage wanted, zeal supplied its place; and at first they chose rather to die than fly; and custom removed fear of danger." And Lord Clarendon, who mournfully characterizes the King’s army, at the time that Lord Hopton was appointed its commander, as "a dissolute, undisciplined, wicked, beaten army," says that Cromwell’s host was "an army whose order and discipline, whose sobriety and manners, whose courage and success hath made it famous and terrible over the world."

One evening in May (1643), Cromwell came unexpectedly upon a party of Royalists, near Grantham. Hastily drawing up his men, he charged and routed the Cavaliers, pursuing them for two miles, slaying many and taking forty-five prisoners.

The war feeling was growing stronger in the Parliament. On May 10, the King proposed a peace. The Parliament committed his messenger to prison, and proceeded to impeach the Queen of high treason for aiding the King in his warfare.

On May 20, Sir Thomas Fairfax defeated the Royalists at Wakefield under General (Lord) Goring, and captured Goring and 1,500 of his men. Goring was soon afterwards exchanged and resumed his important commands in the King’s army.

On Sunday, June 18, 1643, that disastrous fight took place in which John Hampden met his death. Prince Rupert was making one of his swift dashes over the country and Hampden sought to stop him. An engagement occurred at Chalgrove Field in which Rupert had the advantage of numbers. The fight was fierce, and, while spurring his horse into the thickest part of the battle, the brave Puritan received two carbine balls in the shoulder. Feeling that he was badly wounded, he turned and rode off the field in the direction of his father-in-law’s house. But the Cavaliers covered the ground between, and he took the way to Thame. Coming to a brook which it was necessary for him to cross, he spurred his horse and cleared it at a leap, by this time suffering intense agony from his wound. Almost fainting, he reached Thame, and was taken to the house of Ezekiel Browne, where his wounds were dressed. As soon as this was done, he dictated letters to the Parliament urging them to a more active military policy. He felt sure that while Essex continued his Fabian tactics the war would be fatal to Puritan hopes, and he held grave fears that the close proximity to London of the King’s victorious troops was a standing menace to the safety of the capital. After six days of great pain his dissolution drew near. He partook of the Lord’s Supper, declaring that "though he could not away with the governance of the Church by bishops, and did utterly abominate the scandalous lives of some clergymen, he thought its doctrine in the greater part primitive and conformable to God’s word, as in Holy Scriptures revealed." As he felt his spirit passing away, he turned to die in prayer. "O Lord God of Hosts," he said, in a fast sinking voice, "great is thy mercy, just and holy are thy dealings to us sinful men. Save me, O Lord, if it be thy good will, from the jaws of death. Pardon my manifold transgressions. O Lord, save my bleeding country. Lord Jesus, receive my soul!" Thus died Hampden.

He was the hope of England, and the most beloved man in the King’s dominions. Already there had been talk of putting him in Essex’s place as Lord General, and if this had been done he doubtless possessed sufficient vigor and ability to push the war to a speedy conclusion. He was the one altogether pure and upright patriot of that age, doing what he did only for the sake of his country. To his participation in the Parliament’s designs, more than to that of any other man, was due that large support which the cause of modern liberty received from the nation. His body was carried from Thame to Hampden, and deposited with great military honors, and amid universal sorrow, in his father’s tomb. He was fifty years old at his death.

The death of Hampden threw the Parliament party into consternation, and it was followed by a series of disasters which reduced their hopes to the lowest ebb. On July 5, Sir William Waller, a general of whom the Roundheads expected so much that they foolishly named him William the Conqueror, engaged Sir Ralph Hopton and Prince Maurice at Lansdown, and after a well-fought and sanguinary but indecisive action, both armies were glad to welcome the night. Eight days later, Lord Wilmot commanding the Royalists, another battle was fought on Roundway Down, where Waller was badly beaten and his army dispersed. Lord Essex lay only ten miles away, yet he permitted Wilmot to lead his reinforcements from Oxford, a distance of thirty miles, to Roundway, without molestation. Henrietta Maria had marched the length of the kingdom from York with three thousand well-appointed troops, and was met at Edgehill by the delighted King, together with Prince Rupert and a gay throng of Cavaliers, who conveyed her to Oxford.

The Royalists then besieged Bristol, the second city in the kingdom, held for the Parliament by Nathaniel Fiennes; and after an assault which left the field strewn with the bodies of the Cavaliers, Fiennes, in a moment of weakness, surrendered to Prince Rupert and the Marquis of Hertford. This loss of Bristol, with the defeat of Waller in the West, and of Fairfax at Bramham Moor, and again at Adderton Moor, in the North, produced a great discouragement among the Roundhead party. Essex was heaped with reproaches for having failed to harass the Queen’s progress to Oxford, insomuch that he drew off his army to Uxbridge, and seemed to abandon any intention to fight the King for the present.

The Parliament had tried its favorites, and they had failed. They waited for a new deliverer, and a fight at Gainsborough on the 27^th of July, 1643, in a time of general defeat, brought Oliver Cromwell before the eyes of all men as a victorious soldier. The Roundhead forces consisted of some of Cromwell’s men in the Eastern Association, by this time a well-drilled organization. The Cavaliers were commanded by young Charles Cavendish, second son to the Earl of Devonshire. After the first charge it became a hand-to-hand fight. "We disputed it," says Cromwell, "with our swords and pistols a pretty time." The Royalist foot were put to flight, and the Roundheads pursued them for five miles. Cromwell remained on the ground with his regiment to engage the reserve. Cavendish led this body in person, and with great courage, putting some Lincolnshire troops to flight. Cromwell then charged in on his rear, and forced him down a steep declivity, fighting at every step, until the young Cavalier found himself fast in a quagmire with only a handful of his followers. In this situation, scorning to ask quarter, he fell from a sword thrust given by Cromwell’s lieutenant, and expired.

The defeat and death of so considerable a person naturally caused Cromwell to be a subject of universal talk. "This was the beginning of his great fortunes," says Whitelock, "and now he began to appear in the world." His energy and spirit at this time are perceived in his letters. He was fully conscious of the ill fortunes of his party, and he rightly laid the blame on the inactive military policy. He wrote vigorous letters to those in charge of the Eastern Association, urging them always to procure men, money, and supplies. He begins his report of the fight with Cavendish thus:

"Huntingdon, 31^st July, 1643.

"Gentlemen,

"No man desires more to present you with encouragement than myself, because of the forwardness I find in you, to your honour be it spoken, to promote this great Cause. And truly God follows us with encouragements, who is the God of blessings; and I beseech you let Him not lose His blessings upon us! They come in season, and with all the advantages of heartening; as if God should say, ‘Up and be doing, and I will stand by you, and help you!’ There is nothing to be feared but our own sin sloth."

After describing with much detail the military events which we have briefly recounted, he draws to a conclusion in this manner:

"Thus you have this true relation, as short as I could. What you are to do upon it, is next to be considered. If I could speak words to pierce your hearts with the sense of our and your condition, I would! If you will raise 2000 Foot at present to encounter this army of Newcastle’s, to raise the siege, and to enable us to fight him, we doubt not, by the grace of God, but that we shall be able to relieve the Town, and beat the enemy on the other side of Trent. Whereas if somewhat be not done in this, you will see Newcastle’s Army march up into your bowels; being now, as it is, on this side Trent. I know it will be difficult to raise thus many in so short time: but let me assure you, it’s necessary, and therefore to be done. At least do what you may, with all possible expedition! I would I had the happiness to speak with one of you: truly I cannot come over, but must attend my charge; the Enemy is vigilant. The Lord direct you what to do. Gentlemen, I am your faithful servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Already he was teaching his men the discipline of self-control, the forgetfulness of fear, which in the end was to win for them the memorable name of Ironsides. A newspaper of that time (May 1643) notes that "As for Colonel Cromwell, he hath 2000 brave men, well disciplined; and no man swears but he pays his twelve-pence; if he be drunk, he is set in the stocks, or worse; if one calls the other Roundhead he is cashiered." This was the foundation of piety which he had told John Hampden it was necessary to build their army on in order to vanquish the men of honor on the King’s side. Wherever he came in contact with men he seemed to impress a part of his own fervid and indomitable courage upon them, and thereby to make them straightway better soldiers.

In August, Lord Kimbolton, or Mandeville, now become the Earl of Manchester—whose name as a member of the House of Lords had been included in the warrant for the arrest of the five members—was appointed to the command of the Eastern Association, and Cromwell soon became his second in command. While the Roundhead soldiers under other leaders were deserting, or exhibiting a bad and mutinous spirit, Cromwell’s men, unpaid and suffering for shoes and clothing, were maintaining a hearty enthusiasm. His great control over his men—the ascendency, by the strong force of character, of one man over many—is shown in this extract from a letter to Oliver St. John imploring him for money to pay his troops. The comparison which is drawn between his men and those of Lord Manchester is striking:

"Of all men I should not trouble you with money matters, did not the heavy necessities my Troops are in, press me beyond measure. I am neglected exceedingly! I am now ready for my march towards the Enemy; who hath entrenched himself over against Hull, my Lord Newcastle having besieged the Town. Many of my Lord Manchester’s Troops are come to me: very bad and mutinous, not to be confided in; they paid to a week almost; mine nowise provided-for to support them, except by the poor Sequestrations of the County of Huntingdon! My Troops increase. I have a lovely company; you would respect them, did you know them. They are no ‘Anabaptists’; they are honest, sober Christians: they expect to be used as men!"

And then he says that he has spent already eleven or twelve hundred pounds out of his private funds for the expenses of the war, and can raise no further supply until the counties contribute for the pay of his men.

In this manner opposition to the tyranny of the Crown, which had, in a ruder age, produced Wat Tyler and Jack Cade, was now, after centuries of progress, when guided by a better understanding of popular rights, manifesting itself irresistibly and with permanent force in the career of the modern deliverer, Oliver Cromwell.

In June (1643) Sir John Hotham, whose refusal to admit the King to Hull had incensed the Royalists, was detected in a treasonable correspondence with the Earl of Newcastle, and, after attempting to escape, was captured, tried before a Parliamentary tribunal, and executed. His son, young John Hotham, was also executed for a similar offense about the same time.

There now began to be factions in the King’s army, and the gay Cavaliers at Oxford were intriguing for place and power. After the capture of Bristol, a dispute arose between Prince Rupert and the Marquis of Hertford as to the governorship of the city. The Prince claimed the post for himself, while Lord Hertford desired the appointment for Sir Ralph Hopton. The contention waxed so warm that Charles felt impelled to go in person to Bristol, where, by a compromise that made no one happy, he named Rupert as Governor, but appointed Sir Ralph Hopton Lieutenant-Governor to enjoy the powers pertaining to the superior title. It must be said that in the strife over his appointment Sir Ralph took no part, and any feeling that may have been engendered in his breast was appeased when, within a few days, he was made Lord Hopton by his grateful King.

A question of the precedence of the Palatine Princes then arose. Rupert, as a prince of the royal blood, would receive orders from no one but the King, and this resolution interfered with the usefulness of the cavalry as a part of the whole army under Lord Brentford. The policy of massing the King’s troops for a march to London was discussed in the royal council, and was put aside because in that case Prince Maurice could have been only a private Colonel. Prince Maurice, indeed, was not quite satisfied that a nephew to the King should be Lieutenant-General to a Marquis; and with the aid of Rupert and his friends he prevailed on Charles to attach the Marquis of Hertford to his private service as a Gentleman of the Bed-Chamber, sending the Earl of Carnarvon into the West with the horse and dragoons, and permitting Maurice to follow with the foot a day behind. Lord Hopton remained at Bristol, and Lord Hertford at Oxford.

The King now marched to Gloucester, and on the 10^th of August, after summoning it to surrender and receiving a defiant reply, he sat down before it. This was perhaps his greatest mistake in the war. His successes had filled the citizens of London with alarm. A mob of women had marched to Westminster and shrieked for the sacrifice of John Pym. The King’s oft-repeated overtures to treat for peace had been recounted in every street. The Lords had implored the Commons to effect a treaty. The soldiers themselves had lost their military spirit, the Lord General seemingly to a greater extent than any others. And a large party in the House of Commons had joined their voices to the cry for peace. Indeed, many members of both Houses had lately fled to the King at Oxford. But the spirit that had started this revolution was not so easily discouraged. John Pym, Sir Harry Vane, and a few others were able to hold in check what seemed to be a universal demand for peace; and while the subject was still in earnest controversy they all learned that the King had marched to Gloucester instead of London, and they breathed freely once more. The war feeling was revived. It was resolved to enlist further recruits for Essex and Waller, and Lord Manchester was empowered to raise an army in the Eastern Association. The negotiations for Scottish assistance were pressed energetically, and under Vane’s direction the English Parliament agreed to sign the Scottish Covenant in return for military succor from beyond the Tweed.

When the King had sat before Gloucester for sixteen days, Essex, who had employed himself with unaccustomed zeal in recruiting men, felt his army strong enough to march to its relief. On the 5^th of September the beleaguered city saw his signal fires, and the King, whose cavalry had harassed the Lord General’s progress, but who was unwilling to risk a battle, drew off his forces. Essex was received with acclamations of joy, and after a fitting celebration of the rescue, he marched back for London. The King followed him briskly, and at Newbury (September 20) forced him to a battle. Essex again, as at Edgehill, used his Low Country tactics, and stood on the defensive through the action. His horse was dispersed, but his infantry, composed chiefly of the well-drilled train-bands of London, presented their pikes resistlessly to every charge, preserving an unbroken line, and leaving the issue not decided. The next day the Earl proceeded on towards London, Prince Rupert distressing his rear for a considerable distance. He stopped to refresh his men at Reading and thence entered London, where he was received with the honors of a conqueror. The King, following him, took Reading again without resistance, and leaving a garrison there, returned to Oxford with his army.

Charles lost some of the best of his chivalry at Newbury, among the slain being the Earl of Sunderland, the Earl of Carnarvon, and especially the accomplished Lord Viscount Falkland, upon whose death Clarendon pathetically observes, "that if there were no other brand upon this odious and accursed Civil War than that single loss, it must be most infamous and execrable to all posterity."

Upon the return of Essex to London the Parliament subscribed the Scottish Covenant, and copies for the signatures of the people were immediately distributed through all those parts of England that were under Puritan control. This proceeding created an extraordinary impression on the minds of Englishmen. The Covenant was a visible injection of religion into the existing strife, and all sectarian differences were put aside in the enthusiasm with which men and women eagerly signed their names to it. From the moment in which the Solemn League and Covenant was officially presented to the people, the subject of religion became uppermost in the minds of the Puritans; and the subject of unjust oppressions in the government, out of which the war had avowedly grown, assumed a minor importance.

There was fine politics in the adoption of the Covenant, and that astute Puritan, young Sir Harry Vane, had led in the negotiations which secured this new source of inspiration from Scotland. Vane was an Independent; so were Cromwell and many of the other Parliamentary leaders; and as Independents they were jealous of the ascendency of the Presbyterians. Yet they one and all signed the Presbyterian Covenant, doubtless justifying their conduct as a necessary measure of the war. Henceforward the Parliamentary plea was the protection of the Protestant religion. In this Covenant, the subscribers engaged mutually to defend each other against all opponents; bound themselves to endeavor, without respect of persons, the extirpation of popery and prelacy, superstition, heresy, schism, and profaneness; to maintain the rights and privileges of Parliaments, together with the King’s authority; and to discover and bring to justice all incendiaries and malignants. The Scottish Parliament immediately began to raise an army. The King, apprised of their design, cast an eye to his military forces in Ireland.

The Cavaliers continued to win some light successes. Prince Maurice had taken Exeter and Dartmouth, and the King’s power was secure in the West. Prince Rupert had captured Bedford in the midland. The Earl of Newcastle was laying siege to Hull in the North.