wish to save him. Alarmed at this danger, Cromwell and Ireton redoubled their protestations and promises to the king, advised him to reject the proposals, to require that those of the army, far more moderate, should be made the basis of a new negotiation, and promised to support the demand with their utmost influence. "We are determined,” Ireton sent him word, "to purge the house, and purge it again, and purge it still, until it shall be disposed to arrange amicably your majesty's affairs; for my part, rather than fail in what I have promised the king, I would ally myself with the French, the Spaniards, the cavaliers, who would assist me in accomplishing it." Charles followed the advice of the generals, and on receiving his answer, a violent debate arose in the commons; the irritated presbyterians would not deviate from their proposals; the fanatics demanded that none at all should be received or offered. As they had promised, Cromwell and Ireton urged the fulfilment of the king's desire, and that a treaty should be opened between him and the parliament, on the conditions offered by the army; a step, on their part, the more marked from its being altogether without result, the presbyterians and the fanatics having united to defeat it (Sept. 22).

The distrust and anger of the soldiers assumed a menacing form; at every station societies were formed, some of them open and tumultuous, others secret; everywhere the words "ambition, treachery, deceit," were re-echoed, always in connection with the name of Cromwell; every expression which had escaped from him in the heat of discourse was brought to mind and angrily commented upon: he had, for instance, talked of the necessity of ceasing the persecution of the cavaliers; he had said, "Now that I have the king in my hand, I have the parliament in my pocket:" at another time: "Since Holles and Stapleton have had so much authority, I do not see why I should not govern the kingdom as well as they." And again, it was he who in the committee charged with the affair of Lilburne, had brought forward a thousand little incidents, tending to have him still kept in prison. Lilburne formally denounced him to the agitators, enumerating all the offices held by him and his adherents. The agitators in their turn demanded of parliament the release of Lilburne, of Fairfax, that of four soldiers, confined, as they said, merely for a few offensive and threatening words against the king. It was even proposed among Lilburne, Wildman, and some others, to get rid of Cromwell by assassination. such attempt, however, was made; but whether on this occasion, or from some other cause, even the council of agitators became suspected by the soldiers; the lieutenantgeneral, they said, had spies among them who informed him of everything. To avoid this danger, several regiments appointed, under the name of new agents, purer agitators, charged to watch the traitors and serve the good cause in whatever place, at whatever price. A few superior officers, and some members of the commons, Rainsborough, Ewers, Harrison, Robert Lilburne, and Scott, placed themselves at the head of this movement; and the most violent faction, thus separated from the general council of officers and parliament, began openly to proclaim its maxims and designs.

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Cromwell grew uneasy: he saw the army disunited, the royalists and the presbyterians watching the moment to profit by its discords, himself attacked by men of inexorable will, hitherto his most faithful allies, his most useful instruments. day to day the king's intentions became more and more suspected: "I shall play my game as well as I can," said Charles to Ireton, who pressed him to join them openly; and Lords Lauderdale and Lanark, still assiduous in their attendance, promised him the support of a Scottish army if he would accept of their alliance. Already, it was said, the preliminaries of a treaty were agreed upon; it was even added that in Scotland, where Hamilton's credit prevailed over that of Argyle, troops were marching towards the borders. On their side. the English cavaliers, Capel,

Langdale, and Musgrave, were secretly getting up an insurrection. "Be assured," the king had said to Capel, "the two nations will soon be at war; the Scotch promise themselves the co-operation of all the presbyterians in England; let our friends, then, hold themselves ready and in arms; for otherwise, whichever party is victorious, we shall get very little by it." Meantime, the situation of the army quartered near London became critical; the city paid no attention to the demands made for money to pay the men, and the officers knew not how to govern troops whom they could not pay. In all directions the most daring pamphlets were circulated; some setting forth the designs of the soldiers against the king, others the king's negotiations with the generals. In vain had Fairfax demanded and obtained, readily enough so far, the establishment of a rigorous censorship; in vain had Cromwell himself represented to the city the necessities of the army; in vain had he displayed all the resources of reason and craft, to persuade the fanatics that they must restrain their fanaticism, if they thought to be paid by the moderate, the moderate that, to keep the fanatics in check, they must pay them; in vain had he succeeded in getting some of his confidants elected among the new agents of the soldiers. His efforts were without result; even his very prudence turned against him; he had kept up a correspondence, had secured, as he imagined, means of action with all parties; and now everywhere a wild, indomitable excitement threatened to countervail his schemes, to ruin his influence. The end of so much ability, so much exertion, had only been to burden his situation with greater difficulty and danger.

Amid this perplexity, one of the spies he had at Hampton Court, in the very chamber of the king, sent him word that on that day, a letter addressed to the queen would be dispatched from the castle, containing Charles's real designs towards the army and its leaders. The letter, sewn up in a saddle, carried on his head by a man, not in the secret, would reach, about ten o'clock that night, the Blue Boar in Holborn; a horse was ready waiting there to take the bearer to Dover, whence the packet would sail for France. Cromwell and Ireton at once formed their resolution. Disguised as private soldiers, and followed by a single trooper, they left Windsor to go to the appointed place. On their arrival, they placed their attendant on the watch at the door, and entering the tavern, sat down at a table and had some beer. Towards ten, the messenger appeared, the saddle on his head; receiving immediate notice of this, they went out, sword in hand, seized the saddle under the pretext that they had orders to search everything, carried it into the inn, ripped it open, found the letter, carefully closed up the saddle again, and then returned it to the terrified messenger, saying, with an air of good humour, that he was an honest fellow, and might continue his journey.

Their informant had not deceived them: Charles, indeed, wrote to the queen that he was courted alike by both factions, that he should join the one whose conditions should be most for his advantage, and that he thought he should rather treat with the Scottish presbyterians than with the army: "For the rest," he added, "I alone understand my position; be quite easy as to the concessions which I may grant; when the time comes, I shall very well know how to treat these rogues, and instead of a silken garter, I will fit them with a hempen halter." The two generals looked at each other, and all their suspicions thus confirmed, returned to Windsor, henceforward as free from uncertainty respecting their designs upon the king as respecting his towards them.

TRIAL OF KING CHARLES.

GUIZOT.

The same day (Dec. 23), almost at the same moment, the commons voted that he (the king) should be brought to trial, and appointed a committee to draw up his impeachment. Notwithstanding the small number of members present, several voices rose against the measure. Some demanded that they should limit themselves to deposing him, as their predecessors had done with some of his; others, without expressing it, would have wished him to be got rid of privately, so as to profit by his death without having to answer for it. But the daring freethinkers, the sincere fanatics, the rigid republicans, insisted upon a solemn public trial, which should prove their power and proclaim their right. Cromwell alone, in reality more eager for it than any other person, still hypocritically affected moderation. "If any one," he said, "had moved this upon design, I should think him the greatest traitor in the world; but since Providence and necessity have cast us upon it, I pray God to bless our counsels, though I am not prepared on the sudden to give my advice." By one of those strange but invincible scruples, in which iniquity betrays itself while seeking a disguise, in order not to bring the king to trial without a law in the name of which he could be condemned, the house voted (Jan. 2) as a principle, that he had been guilty of treason in making war against the parliament; and on the motion of Scott, an ordinance was forthwith adopted, instituting a high court to try him. One hundred and fifty commissioners were to compose it: six peers, three high judges, eleven baronets, ten knights, six aldermen of London, all the important men of the party, in the army, the commons, in the city, except St. John and Vane, who formally declared that they disapproved of the act, and would not take any part in it. When the ordinance was presented for the sanction of the upper house (Jan. 2), some pride seemed to revive in that assembly, hitherto so servile that they seemed to have fully admitted their own nothingness: "There is no parliament without the king," maintained lord Manchester, "therefore the king cannot commit treason against parliament." "It has pleased the commons," said lord Denbigh, "to put my name to their ordinance; but I would be torn to pieces rather than take part in so infamous a business." "I do not like," said the earl of Pembroke, "to meddle with affairs of life and death; I shall neither speak against the ordinance nor consent to it; and the lords present, twelve in number, unanimously rejected it. Next day, receiving no message from the lords, the commons appointed two of their members to go to the upper house, to have its journals laid before them, and to ascertain what resolution it had come to. On their report (Jan. 4), they immediately voted that the opposition of the lords should not constitute an obstacle; that the people being, after God, the source of all legitimate power, the commons of England, elected by and representing the people, possessed the sovereign power: and by a fresh ordinance (Jan. 6), the high court of justice, instituted in the name of the commons only, and reduced to one hundred and thirty-five members, received orders to meet without delay to arrange the preliminaries.

They met accordingly for this purpose in private, on the 8th, 10th, 12th, 13th, 15th, 17th, 18th, and 19th of January, John Bradshaw, a cousin of Milton, and an eminent advocate, presiding—a man grave and gentle in his manners, but of a narrow, austere mind, a sincere fanatic and yet ambitious, inclined to avarice though ready to lay down his life for his opinions. Such was the state of public feeling, that insurmountable dissension prevailed even in this court; no summons, no effort succeeded in collecting at these preparatory meetings more than fifty-eight members; Fairfax attended the first meeting, but no other. Even among those who did attend, several

only came to declare their opposition: this was the course pursued, among others, by Algernon Sidney, still young, but already influential in the republican party. Retired for some time to Penshurst Castle, the seat of his father lord Leicester, when he heard of his nomination on the high court, he immediately went to London, and in the sittings of the 13th, 15th, and 19th of January, though the question appeared decided, warmly opposed the trial. He above all things dreaded the people's conceiving an aversion for a republic, perhaps a sudden insurrection, which would save the king and lose the commonwealth beyond recall: "No one will stir," cried Cromwell, annoyed at these suggestions: "I tell you, we will cut his head off with the crown upon it." "Do what you please," answered Sidney; "I cannot hinder you; but I certainly will have nothing to do with this affair ;" and he went out, and never returned. At length, consisting only of members who readily accepted their mission, the court entirely occupied itself with arranging the form of the trial. John Cook, a counsellor of some reputation and the intimate friend of Milton, was appointed attorneygeneral, and as such was charged to take the lead in drawing up the act of accusation, and in supporting it on the trial. Elsynge, who had been clerk of the commons up to this period, having retired under pretext of illness, Henry Scobell was selected to take his place. They carefully discussed what regiments and how many should be on service during the trial; where sentinels should be stationed—some were placed even on the leads, and at every window which looked upon the hall—what barriers should be erected to keep the people apart, not only from the tribunal, but also from the soldiers. The 20th of January was appointed for the king to appear before the court at Westminster hall; and so early as the 17th, as if his condemnation had already been pronounced, the commons had charged a committee to visit the palaces, castles, and residences of the king, and to draw up an exact inventory of his furniture, henceforth the property of parliament.

When colonel Whychcott, governor of Windsor, told the king that in a few days he would be transferred to London : "God is everywhere," answered Charles, "alike in wisdom, power, and goodness." Yet the news inspired him with great and unexpected uneasiness; he had lived for the last three weeks in the most unwonted feeling of security, rarely and incorrectly informed of the resolutions of the house, comforting himself with some reports from Ireland which promised him speedy assistance, and more confident, gayer even, than his servants had for a long time seen him: "In six months," he said, "peace will be re-established in England; if not, I shall receive from Ireland, Denmark, and other kingdoms, the means of righting me;" and another day he said: "I have three more cards to play, the worst of which may give me back everything." And yet one circumstance had lately disturbed him; until almost the close of his stay at Windsor, he had been treated and served with all the etiquette of court; he dined in public, in the hall of state, under a canopy; the chamberlain, the esquire-carver, maître-d'hôtel, and cup-bearer performed their accustomed offices in the accustomed manner; the cup was presented to him kneeling, the dishes were brought in covered, were tasted, and he enjoyed with tranquil gravity these solemn manifestations of respect. All at once, on the reception of a letter from head quarters, there was a total change: the dishes were brought in uncovered by soldiers, were no longer tasted, none knelt to him, the habitual etiquette of the canopy completely ceased. Charles bitterly grieved at this: "The respect and honour denied me," said he, "no sovereign prince ever wanted, nor even subjects of high degree, according to ancient practice; is there anything more contemptible than a despised prince" and to avoid this insult he took his repasts in his own room, almost alone, himself selecting two or three dishes from the list presented to him.

On Friday, the 19th of January, a troop of horse appeared at Windsor, with Harrison at its head, appointed to remove the king; a coach and six waited in the

yard of the castle; Charles entered it, and in a few hours after once more re-entered London and St James's palace, surrounded on all sides by guards, with two sentinels at the very door of his chamber, and Herbert, who slept by his bed-side, alone to serve him.

Next day, the 20th, towards noon, the high court, assembled in a secret sitting in the painted chamber, arranged the final details of their task; they had scarcely finished prayers, when it was announced that the king, carried in a sedan between two ranks of soldiers, was at hand; Cromwell ran to the window, and turning round, pale, yet very animated: "My masters, he is come-he is come!" he cried; "and now we are doing that great work that the whole nation will be full of; therefore, I desire you to let us resolve here what answer we shall give the king, when he comes before us; for the first question he will ask us will be, by what authority and commission we do try him." No one for a while answered; at last Henry Martyn said: "In the name of the commons and parliament assembled, and of all the good people of England." No objection was made, and the court proceeded in solemn order to Westminster hall, the lord-president, Bradshaw, at their head, with the sword and mace before him, preceded by sixteen officers armed with partisans. The president took his seat in a chair of crimson velvet; below him was the clerk of the house, at a table with a rich Turkey cover on which were placed the mace and sword; to the right and left, on seats of scarlet cloth, sat the members of the court; at the two extremities were men-at-arms, who stood somewhat in advance of the tribunal. The court having taken their seats, the doors were opened and the crowd rushed in; silence being restored, and the act of the commons read which authorized the court, the names were called over; there were sixty-nine members present. "Mr. sergeant," said Bradshaw, "bring in the prisoner."

The king appeared, under the guard of colonel Hacker and thirty-two officers; a chair of crimson velvet was prepared for him at the bar: he advanced, cast a long and severe look on the tribunal, sat down in the chair without removing his hat, suddenly rose again, looked behind him at the guard placed at the left, and the crowded spectators at the right of the hall, once more turned his eyes towards the judges, and then sat down amidst universal silence.

Bradshaw rose immediately: "Charles Stuart, king of England," said he, “the commons of England, assembled in parliament, taking notice of the effusion of blood in the land, which is fixed on you as the author of it, and whereof you are guilty, have resolved to bring you to a trial and judgment, and for this cause the tribunal is erected. The charges will now be read by the solicitor-general."

The attorney-general, Cook, then rose to speak: "Silence !" said the king, touching him with his cane on his shoulder. Cook turned round, surprised and irritated; the head of the king's cane fell off; a short but violent emotion appeared in his features; none of his servants were near enough to pick up the head of the cane for him; he stooped, took it up himself, sat down, and Cook read the act of accusation, which, imputing to the king all the evils arising, first from his tyranny, then from the war, demanded that he should be bound to answer the charges brought against him, and that justice should be done upon him as a tyrant, traitor, and murderer.

While this was reading, the king, still seated, looked tranquilly, sometimes on the judges, sometimes on the public; once, for a moment, he rose, turned his back to the tribunal to look behind him, and sat down again with an air at once of curiosity and indifference. He smiled at the words "Charles Stuart, tyrant, traitor, and murderer," but said nothing.

When Cook had finished: "Sir," said Bradshaw to the king, "you have heard the charge; the court awaits your answer."

The king: "I do wonder for what cause you convene me here. But lately I was