troopers slain, and lost more than 1000 prisoners. With less than half his horse (he had no foot with him) he retreated to Denbigh, where intelligence reached him that the game was up with Montrose.

Scottish army. The king left Oxford on the 31st of August, and went to Hereford, which city he entered in triumph. He then proposed to cross the Severn to the assistance of Prince Rupert, who was besieged in Bristol by Fairfax; but he loitered and lost time-went again to the splendid castle of Ragland, and there received news that his nephew had surrendered Bristol on the 11th of September. Charles in the anguish of his heart and the bitterness of his disappointment-for Rupert had assured him that he could keep Bristol for four months, and he had hardly kept it four days of siege-heaped reproaches upon his nephew, and even suspected him of treachery. He sent the prince an order to resign all his commissions and quit the country, and he ordered his arrest, in case Rupert should be troublesome. Still believing Montrose to be master of all Scotland, Charles once more resolved to march into the north. He reached the neighbourhood of Chester without any reverse,' but the parliamentarians had taken the suburbs of that city; Poyntz, with another division, was advancing by a different road; and on the 23d of September the royalists, on Row-wrong-headed Lord Digby, who had contrived

ton Heath, found themselves between two fires, being charged on one side by the troops that had taken the suburbs, and on the other by Poyntz. The result, after several remarkable vicissitudes, was the complete defeat of Charles, who had 600

According to Rushworth, he every minute expected the landing at Chester of forces from Ireland.

2 Tradition says that from this tower Charles I. viewed the battle of Rowton Heath.

David Leslie, when on the east coast of Scotland, was informed that Montrose was advancing to the south-west, his movements apparently being in concert with those of Charles, who was advancing, on his part, by the western side of England; and the Covenanter thereupon, with all the Scottish horse, quitted the shores of the Forth and marched westward in the direction of the Solway Frith. He came up with the roya lists in Selkirk forest, and this time Montrose, who had so often surprised his adversaries, was himself taken by surprise and thoroughly beaten near the village of Philiphaugh. The lightheeled partizan escaped and got back to the Highlands, but his army was utterly annihilated, and many of his friends who had not fallen in battle were executed by the Covenanters.

The person now in greatest credit and favour with the unfortunate king was the whimsical,

to quarrel with nearly every other man about the court or camp. He was always making schemes that came to nothing, or writing secret letters that never failed to be publicly known. Now, in attempting to fight his way into Scotland with a very inconsiderable force, he was beaten in Yorkshire, and compelled to flee into Ireland. He lost his portfolio, which was taken by the parliamentarians, who soon published it contents. The principal papers were letters from an English agent in Holland to the Lord Jermyn, who was living in the very closest intimacy with King Charles's wife at Paris; letters from Ireland concerning secret negotiations between the queen and the Papists; and letters from the Lord Jermyn to the Lord Digby himself, touching a treaty for bringing over the Duke of Lorraine with a foreign army to the king's assistance, and about aids to be obtained from other foreign princes and from his holiness the pope. These letters-and particularly the parts of them which related to the queen and to the Irish Papists-greatly enraged the English people, and detached many of his adhe rents from the king.3

After Lord Digby's catastrophe in Yorkshire, an end was put to all campaigning or fighting in the open field, though there still remained much for the parliamentarians to do in the way of siege and blockade. Revolving many schemes, and abandoning them as impracticable or dangerous, the king remained for several days at Denbigh. He then made up his mind for a movement upon the Trent, and brushing across the country, he

• Rushworth.

got to Newark. Despising his majesty's orders, | ingly, when Charles applied for safe-conducts for Prince Rupert came to Belvoir Castle, ten miles two noblemen, he met with a stern refusal. Still, short of Newark. Charles, greatly incensed, com- however, it seemed neither decent nor safe wholly manded him to stay where he was. But Rupert to reject terms of pacification, and the two houses proceeded instantly to Newark, and Sir Richard resolved to submit to him certain propositions, in Willis, who was governor of that place, and Ger- the form of parliamentary bills, for him to give rard, one of the king's principal officers, heedless his assent to. of the king's commands, went out with an escort of 100 horse to meet the prince. Without being announced, and followed by a numerous retinue, all in arms, Rupert presented himself before his uncle, telling him that he was come to give an account of his surrender of Bristol, and to clear himself from unjust imputations which had been cast upon him by his majesty and the Lord Digby. Charles, greatly embarrassed, scarcely answered a syllable. Violent and indecent altercations ensued, not only between the king and his nephew, but also between his majesty and Sir Richard Willis, the governor. Most of the officers present took part with Willis, holding up his majesty's chief adviser, Digby, as a traitor, and defying the fallen kingly power by an act of mutiny. Rupert and his brother, Prince Maurice, with Sir Richard Willis, and about 200 horse, insolently turned their backs upon Newark and the king, and rode to Belvoir Castle, whence they sent one of their company to ask from the parliament "leave and passports to go beyond the seas." The commons readily sent them the passes, but the two princes did not yet quit England. They were subsequently reconciled to their uncle, and shut up with him in Oxford.

But the king himself could not long remain at Newark, for the two parliamentarians, Poyntz and Rossiter, were drawing every day nearer, and believing they had so encompassed him that it would not be possible for him to get out of their hands. His evasion, however, was prepared with great skill. He travelled by night, he endured great fatigue, he had several narrow escapes; but in the end he got safely into Oxford. He, however, soon perceived that he could no longer find security even there. Cromwell was reducing in rapid succession all the royalist garrisons, and the king knew that he and Fairfax were concerting the blockade or siege of Oxford. Charles's council almost instantly proposed a negotiation.

Ever since the reading of the king's letters taken at Naseby, the parliament, or a majority of it, seems to have determined never to negotiate on the footing they had formerly done at Oxford and Uxbridge; and as it had been observed that his commissioners had always laboured to sow dissensions and carry on intrigues, a resolution had been adopted, that no more of these emissaries should be admitted. Accord

During these deliberations, the breach between the Presbyterians and Independents became wider, and Charles fondly hoped to find a way through it to the recovery of his former power. The Scots, too, who had their army in the heart of England, and who occupied some of the most important of the garrisons, disagreed greatly with the master minds that had now taken the chief direction of affairs; they suggested numerous revises and alterations of the propositions to be offered to the king, and they seemed quite ready to throw their swords into the scale of their coreligionists, the English Presbyterians. All this caused long delays; but the problem would have been sooner solved if Cromwell and Fairfax had not deemed it expedient to finish their conquest of the west of England, and reduce the rest of the kingdom to the obedience of parliament, before commencing the siege of Oxford. The king, it appears, was, on the whole, more willing to deal with the Independents than with the Presbyterians; but the queen, who, from France, constantly suggested plans, thought that more was to be gained from the Presbyterians; and she and other friends, both abroad and at home, earnestly recommended him to conclude a good bargain with the Scots, to give up Episcopacy, and to establish that exclusive Presbyterianism which seemed so dear, not only to all his subjects north of the Tweed, but also to so large a portion of the English people. But he would never yield to this advice; and he applied again to parliament to be heard by his commissioners, or to have a personal conference with them himself at Westminster. This letter was presented at a most unfortunate juncture; for at that very moment the committee of both kingdoms were communicating to the two houses all the particulars of a secret treaty between the king and the Earl of Glamorgan, and between Glamorgan and the Irish Papists; and in the loud storm that then raged, the words of Charles could scarcely be heard, and his letter was thrown aside without an answer. It was found that the king had authorized Glamorgan to treat with the Catholics of Ireland, and to make them the largest promises, upon condition of their engaging to take up arms and pass over in force to the English coast. It appears, from Charles's own letters, that he never intended to keep these liberal promises; that he meant to cheat them, or make them " 'cozen themselves;" but it is quite certain

him with all honour, and protect his person. The king, who always considered the Scots and Presbyterians as the cause of all his misfortunes, now thought that he would rather trust the In

that the promises were made in a solemn man- | king would come to them, they would receive ner, and that, even without being read with exaggerating religious intolerance, they contained matter to put in jeopardy all the Protestants in Ireland, and to incense all the Protestants in England. Yet Charles, "on the faith of a Chris-dependents, throw himself into the arms of a tian," denied to the parliament all knowledge of Glamorgan's doings; and his partizans declared that the warrants bearing his name, which had been found in the baggage of the Catholic Archbishop of Tuam, slain in a skirmish near Sligo, were mere forgeries. After sundry deceptive tricks, Glamorgan collected some 5000 men, whom he led to Waterford, in order to relieve Chester, where Lord Byron was reduced almost to extremities by the parliamentarians. By the time Glamorgan got to Waterford, he received news of the proceedings at Westminster, and of the king's public disavowal of his authority, warrant, &c. But the earl knew what this meant; the king had already instructed him "to make no other account of such declarations, than to put himself in a condition to help his master, and set him free;" and Glamorgan pressed forward his preparations for shipping the troops. A much more serious check was, the unwelcome news that Chester had fallen.' Upon this intelligence Glamorgan dispersed his army; and then the king, despairing of the Irish, thought seriously of the Scots, whose dissensions with their allies, the parliament, were now assuming to him a more promising aspect than ever.

Montreuil, a French ambassador or special envoy, had now been for some time in England negotiating secretly with the Scottish commissioners in London. He had brought with him the guarantee of his court to Charles, that if the king would place himself in the hands of the Scottish army, they would receive him as their natural sovereign, without violence to his conscience or his honour, protect him and his party to their utmost, and assist him with their arms in recovering his rights, he (the king) undertaking in the like manner to protect them, to respect their consciences, and so forth. The Scottish commissioners proposed that Charles should take the Covenant; and they insisted, as a sine qua non, upon the establishment of Presbyterianism. Montreuil implored the king to yield the point of Episcopacy; but Charles refused to do more than promise, that when he should be with the Scottish army he would submit to be instructed by their preachers. Montreuil then posted away to Newark, in front of which the main body of the Scots then lay. The Frenchiman was disconcerted by the cold and firm tone of the officers and commissioners with the army, who would yield nothing, promise nothing, except that if the

May, Brev. Hist. Part.

part of the English army, and rely upon their generous feelings and his own powers of persuasion. If he remained much longer in Oxford he must inevitably be captured, for Colonel Rainsborough was reducing Woodstock, and the armies of the parliament were approaching from all points. But Charles again turned his thoughts to the Scots, thinking that they could best do his business. He had not agreed “with regard to the Presbyterian government;" and the Scottish commissioners were, in all probability, informed that he had been, and was, down to the very moment of his flight from Oxford, tampering with the Independents and promising to join them in rooting Presbytery out of the kingdom. These Scottish commissioners would have sacrificed an otherwise popular sovereign upon this sole point; but Charles was anything but popular in Scotland, where the blood of the slaughtered cried aloud for vengeance upon him. The English parliament and army might be in a frame of mind favourable to magnanimity; ever since the battle of Naseby they had been marching from success to success, from triumph to triumph: but in Scotland it was far otherwise; there that interval of time had been filled almost entirely by the victories of Montrose and the reverses of the Covenanters. The civil war, too, as conducted in England, had been all through chivalrous and merciful, as compared with the unsparing carnage of Montrose's wild Highlanders and Irish. Charles, therefore, had little to hope from the humour of the Scottish commissioners; and the characteristic wariness of those men was not likely to permit them pledging themselves in a treaty, or in any direct bargain, merely upon his shifting and equivocating assurances. There is not the shadow of a proof that any such treaty or bargain was ever made. At the same time the Scots were most certainly anxious to have the king in their power, being on the very verge of an open rupture with the English parliament, which stood indebted to them in large sums of money.

Montreuil, the French ambassador, told the king in express terms that he could have little or nothing to hope from the Scottish army; that the commissioners of that army were neither to be moved from their purpose nor to be trusted by him; and yet Charles, after this knowledge, clung to the Scots with a desperate hope, though not, as we believe, till sundry other wild schemes had entirely failed. There was now no time to lose; and, if Charles would escape the horrors of a

siege certain to end in death or captivity, he must be gone at once. His son, the Prince of Wales, after being driven to Pendennis Castle, in Cornwall, had fled for safety to Scilly, and thence to Jersey, being attended by Clarendon, Culpeper, and other members of the council. Even the brave Sir Ralph Hopton, now that he was ruined, created Lord Hopton, had been obliged to capitulate and disband his forces; and Sir Jacob Astley, who had collected some 2000 horse to cut his way to Oxford, was intercepted at Stowe by the parliamentarians, and made prisoner with many of his officers, and more than half his men. "You have done your work, my masters," said Astley to his captors, "and may now go play, unless you choose to fall out among yourselves." Wherever Cromwell showed himself, resistance soon ceased; and he was now approaching with Fairfax and the army of the west upon Oxford, which was already surrounded by 2000 foot and 300 horse. Woodstock was surrendered to Rainsborough. Whichever way Charles looked, from tower or bastion, he saw the flag of the parliament of England floating on the breeze; and now, wherever he turned himself within the loyal city of Oxford, he saw dejection or discontent. His very attendants treated him with sullen disrespect; and the chances are, that, if he had stayed there, they would, upon the arrival of Cromwell and Fairfax, have delivered him up to the parliament. Still, however, the unfortunate monarch feared and doubted the Scots. Notwithstanding the entire failure of his overtures to the Independents, he addressed himself to Ireton, who was then before Oxford: "being informed," says Ashburnham, "that he was a man of great power and credit with the soldiery, and very earnestly affected to peace, he thought it fit to make some trial of him, whether he would undertake to accept and protect his majesty's person upon the former conditions; and to that purpose sent Sir Edward Ford (his brother-in-law) to sound his inclinations, with this assurance, that, if he consented, I should follow the next day with power to conclude with him in those or any new mat-sador, desiring him to make an absolute concluters he should propose in order to his majesty's reception. But, by his not suffering any man to return to Oxford, his majesty found plainly that he did not relish the discourse upon that subject, and so quit the thought likewise of any more advantage by him than by the others he had tried before. . . . And now, his majesty, conceiving himself to be discharged from all obligation which by any way could be fastened upon him by his parliament, or by any authority derived from them, settled his thoughts upon his journey to the Scots army." But, according to Ashburnham, Charles told his council at Oxford that he places, whereof some were gentlemen's houses (where he was

was going to smuggle himself into London, while he had fully made up his mind to go to the Scots. From other accounts, however, and from the curious, wavering way in which the king proceeded, it should appear that he was not decided whither he should go, even when he had taken to the road.

On the 27th of April Fairfax and Cromwell reached Newbury, within a day's march of Oxford: about midnight Charles got ready for his flight, submitting his beard to Ashburnham's scissors, and disguising himself as that groom of the chamber's groom. Hudson, the chaplain who had gone and come between the head-quarters of the Scots and Oxford, and who was, moreover, well acquainted with the by-roads of the country, acted as guide; and between two and three o'clock in the morning the party rode out of Oxford by Magdalen bridge, the king following Ashburnham as grooms follow their masters, with a cloak strapped round his waist. At the same moment, parties like the royal one, of three individuals each, went out of Oxford by the other gates, in order to distract attention and embarrass pursuit. Charles and his two companions got through the lines of the parliamentarians, and reached Henley-upon-Thames without discovery. From Henley, instead of turning directly north towards the Scots, they proceeded to Slough: from Slough again they went to Uxbridge, and from Uxbridge to Hillingdon, a mile and a half nearer London. "Here," according to Hudson, "the king was much perplexed what course to resolve upon-London or northward." After a halt he rode across the country to Harrow, from whose pleasant hill his good steed might have carried him into the heart of London' within an hour. But he turned off thence northwards towards St. Alban's. From St. Alban's they made another circuit, and, by cross-roads, they got to Downham, in Norfolk.' Here Charles lay hid for four days, awaiting the return of Hudson, who had been sent forward to the lodging of Montreuil, at Southwell, near Newark, with a little note from the king to that ambas

sion with the Scots, and to tell them (for so says Hudson) that, if they would offer "such honourable conditions for him as should satisfy him, then he would come to them; if not, he was resolved to dispose otherwise of himself." Hudson himself continues :-"I came to Southwell next morning, and acquainted the French agent with these particulars, who, on Thursday night (30th of April), told me they would condescend to all the demands which the king and Montreuil had

"The king," says Clarendon, "wasted his time in several not unknown, though untaken notice of)."-Hist,

that the promises were made in a solemn man- | king would come to them, they would receive ner, and that, even without being read with exaggerating religious intolerance, they contained matter to put in jeopardy all the Protestants in Ireland, and to incense all the Protestants in England. Yet Charles, "on the faith of a Christian," denied to the parliament all knowledge of Glamorgan's doings; and his partizans declared that the warrants bearing his name, which had been found in the baggage of the Catholic Archbishop of Tuam, slain in a skirmish near Sligo, were mere forgeries. After sundry deceptive tricks, Glamorgan collected some 5000 men, whom he led to Waterford, in order to relieve Chester, where Lord Byron was reduced almost to extremities by the parliamentarians. By the time Glamorgan got to Waterford, he received news of the proceedings at Westminster, and of the king's public disavowal of his authority, warrant, &c. But the earl knew what this meant; the king had already instructed him "to make no other account of such declarations, than to put himself in a condition to help his master, and set him free;" and Glamorgan pressed forward his preparations for shipping the troops. A much more serious check was, the unwelcome news that Chester had fallen.' Upon this intelligence Glamorgan dispersed his army; and then the king, despairing of the Irish, thought seriously of the Scots, whose dissensions with their allies, the parliament, were now assuming to him a more promising aspect than ever.

Montreuil, a French ambassador or special envoy, had now been for some time in England negotiating secretly with the Scottish commissioners in London. He had brought with him the guarantee of his court to Charles, that if the king would place himself in the hands of the Scottish army, they would receive him as their natural sovereign, without violence to his conscience or his honour, protect him and his party to their utmost, and assist him with their arms in recovering his rights, he (the king) undertaking in the like manner to protect them, to respect their consciences, and so forth. The Scottish commissioners proposed that Charles should take the Covenant; and they insisted, as a sine qua non, upon the establishment of Presbyterianism. Montreuil implored the king to yield the point of Episcopacy; but Charles refused to do more than promise, that when he should be with the Scottish army he would submit to be instructed by their preachers. Montreuil then posted away to Newark, in front of which the main body of the Scots then lay. The Frenchuan was disconcerted by the cold and firm tone of the officers and commissioners with the army, who would yield nothing, promise nothing, except that if the

May, Brev. Hist. Part.

him with all honour, and protect his person. The king, who always considered the Scots and Presbyterians as the cause of all his misfortunes, now thought that he would rather trust the Independents, throw himself into the arms of a part of the English army, and rely upon their generous feelings and his own powers of persua sion. If he remained much longer in Oxford he must inevitably be captured, for Colonel Rainsborough was reducing Woodstock, and the armies of the parliament were approaching from all points. But Charles again turned his thoughts to the Scots, thinking that they could best do his business. He had not agreed "with regard to the Presbyterian government;" and the Scottish commissioners were, in all probability, informed that he had been, and was, down to the very moment of his flight from Oxford, tampering with the Independents and promising to join them in rooting Presbytery out of the kingdom. These Scottish commissioners would have sacrificed an otherwise popular sovereign upon this sole point; but Charles was anything but popular in Scotland, where the blood of the slaughtered cried aloud for vengeance upon him. The English parliament and army might be in a frame of mind favourable to magnanimity; ever since the battle of Naseby they had been marching from success to success, from triumph to triumph: but in Scotland it was far otherwise; there that interval of time had been filled almost entirely by the victories of Montrose and the reverses of the Covenanters. The civil war, too, as conducted in England, had been all through chivalrous and merciful, as compared with the unsparing carnage of Montrose's wild Highlanders and Irish. Charles, therefore, had little to hope from the humour of the Scottish commissioners; and the characteristic wariness of those men was not likely to permit them pledging themselves in a treaty, or in any direct bargain, merely upon his shifting and equivocating assurances. There is not the shadow of a proof that any such treaty or bargain was ever made. At the same time the Scots were most certainly anxious to have the king in their power, being on the very verge of an open rupture with the English parliament, which stood indebted to them in large sums of money.

Montreuil, the French ambassador, told the kingin express terms that he could have little or nothing to hope from the Scottish army; that the commissioners of that army were neither to be moved from their purpose nor to be trusted by him; and yet Charles, after this knowledge, clung to the Scots with a desperate hope, though nut, as we believe, till sundry other wild schemes had entirely failed. There was now no time to lose; and, if Charles would escape the horrors of a