the troops that they should march to the right, in which direction the King's horse had been turned, and which, in the situation of the field, was bidding them shift for themselves. It was in vain that Charles, with great personal exertion and risk, endeavoured to rally them. Neither these troops nor Prince Rupert's, when he returned from his rash pursuit, could be brought to rally and form in order; a most important part of discipline, in which the soldiers under Fairfax and Cromwell were perfect, the latter having now modelled the army as he had from the beginning his own troop. The day was irrecoverably lost, and with it the King and the kingdom. The number of slain on the King's part did not exceed 700, but more than 5000 prisoners were taken, being the whole of the infantry, with all the artillery and baggage. In the pursuit above a hundred women were killed, (such was the temper of the conquerors!) some of whom were the wives of officers of quality. The King's cabinet fell into their hands, with the letters between him and the queen, "of which," says Clarendon, "they made that barbarous use as was agreeable to their natures, and published them in print; that is, so much of them as they thought would asperse either of their Majesties, and improve the prejudice they had raised against them; and concealed other parts which would have vindicated them from many particulars with them which they had aspersed them.” * Upon this act of the parliament the King has expressed his feelings in the Icon in that calm strain of dignity by which the book is distinguished and authenticated. "The taking of my letters," he says, was an opportunity which, as the malice of mine enemies could hardly have expected, so they knew not how with honour and civility to use it. Nor do I think, with sober and worthy minds, anything in them could tend so much to my reproach as the odious divulging of them did to the infamy of the divulgers: the greatest experiments of virtue and nobleness being discovered in the greatest advantages against an enemy; and the greatest obligations being those which are put upon us by them from whom we could least have expected them. And such I should have esteemed the concealing of my papers, the freedom and secrecy of which commands a civility from all men not wholly barbarous. Yet since Providence will have it so, I am

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[* Clar. Hist. vol. v. p. 186, ed. 1826.]

content so much of my heart (which I study to approve to God's Omniscience) should be discovered to the world, without any of those dresses or popular captations which some men use in their speeches and expresses. I wish my subjects had yet a clearer sight into my most retired thoughts; where they might discover how they are divided between the love and care I have, not more to preserve my own rights than to preserve their peace and happiness; and that extreme grief to see them both deceived and destroyed. Nor can any men's malice be gratified farther by my letters than to see my constancy to my wife, the laws, and religion." Then, speaking of his enemies, he says, "they think no victories so effectual to their designs as those that most rout and waste my credit with my people; in whose hearts they seek by all means to smother and extinguish all sparks of love, respect, and loyalty to me, that they may never kindle again, so as to recover mine, the laws and the kingdom's liberties, which some men seek to overthrow. The taking away of my credit is but a necessary preparation to the taking away of life and my kingdom. First I must seem neither fit to live, nor worthy to reign. By exquisite methods of cunning and cruelty, I must be compelled first to follow the funerals of my honour, and then be destroyed."

my

In another of these beautiful meditations, looking back upon the course of the war, he says, "I never had any victory which was without my sorrow, because it was on mine own subjects, who, like Absalom, died many of them in their sin. And yet I never suffered any defeat which made me despair of God's mercy and defence. I never desired such victories as might serve to conquer, but only restore the laws and liberties of my people, which I saw were extremely oppressed, together with my rights, by those men who were impatient of any just restraint. When Providence gave me or denied me victory, my desire was neither to boast of my power nor to charge God foolishly, who I believed at last would make all things to work together for my good. I wished no greater advantages by the war than to bring my enemies to moderation and my friends to peace. I was afraid of the temptation of an absolute conquest, and never prayed more for victory over others than over myself. When the first was denied, the second was granted me, which God saw best for me."

The influence of pure religion upon a sound understanding and a gentle heart has never been more finely exemplified than by Charles during the long course of his afflictions. Cromwell also was religious, but his religion at the time when it was most sincere was most alloyed, and it acted upon an intellect and disposition most unlike the King's. Clear as his head was in action, his apprehension ready, and his mind comprehensive as well as firm; when out of the sphere of business and command, his notions were confused and muddy, and his language stifled the thoughts which it affected to bring forth, producing by its curious infelicity a more than oracular obscurity. The letter which he addressed to the Speaker after the battle of Naseby is one of the most lucid specimens of his misty style. After saying that for three hours the fight had been very doubtful, and stating what were the results of the action, he proceeds thus: "Sir, this is none other but the hand of God, and to him alone belongs the glory, wherein none are to share with him. The general has served you with all faithfulness and honour; and the best commendation I can give him is, that I dare say he attributes all to God, and would rather perish than assume to himself, which is an honest and a thriving way; and yet as much for bravery may be given to him in this action, as to a man. Honest men served you faithfully in this action. Sir, they are trusty. I beseech you in the name of God not to discourage them. I wish this action may beget thankfulness and humility in all that are concerned in it. He that ventures his life for the liberty of his country, I wish he trust God for the liberty of his conscience, and you for the liberty he fights for. In this he rests who is your most humble servant, Oliver Cromwell." *

After the fatal defeat at Naseby [14th June, 1645] the royal cause soon became hopeless. Bristol was not better defended by Prince Rupert than it had been by Nathaniel Fiennes. During the siege, Fairfax and Cromwell narrowly escaped from being killed by the same ball. The latter declared none but an atheist could deny that their success was the work of the Lord. In his official letter he said, "it may be thought some praises are due to these gallant men of whose valour so much mention is made; their humble suit to you and all that have an interest in this blessing, [* Ellis's Letters, vol. iii., p. 305, first series.]

is, that in remembrance of God's praises they may be forgotten. It's their joy that they are instruments to God's glory and their country's good. It's their honour that God vouchsafes to use them. Sir, they that have been employed in this service know that faith and prayer obtained this city for you." The faith and prayers of William Dell and Hugh Peters, chaplains to the besieging forces, were assisted by the experience of Skippon in military operations, by the fear of a disaffected party within the city, and by the sample which the besiegers had given of their intention to put their enemies to the sword if they took the place by storm. Cromwell next took Devizes [September, 1645], and disarmed and dispersed the club-men in Hampshire, who having originally associated to protect themselves against the excesses of both parties, contributed to the miseries of the country by making a third party as oppressive as either. Winchester surrendered to him [5th October, 1645], and on that occasion he gave an honourable example of fidelity to his engagements; six of his men being detected in plundering, in violation of the terms of capitulation, he hung one of them,* and sent the other five to the King's governor at Oxford to be punished at his discretion. Basing House, which had been so long and bravely defended, yielded [Tuesday, 14th October, 1645], to this fortunate general, who never failed in any enterprise which he undertook. He then rejoined Fairfax in the west to complete the destruction of a gallant army which had been ruined by worthless and wicked commanders. Lord Hopton, one of those men whose virtues redeem the age, had taken the command of it in a manner more honourable to himself than the most glorious of those achievements in which he had formerly been successful: there was no possibility of averting or even delaying a total defeat. When Prince Charles entreated him to take upon himself the forlorn charge of commanding it, Lord Hopton replied, that it was the custom now, when men were not willing to submit to what they were enjoined, to say it was against their honour; for himself he could not obey in this instance without resolving to lose his honour,but since his Highness thought it necessary so to command him, even at that cost he was ready to obey. He made so gallant a

[* They first cast lots for their lives. Rushworth, fol. 1701, p. 92.]

resistance at Torrington,* though great part of his men behaved basely, that the parliamentary forces suffered greater loss than at any other storm in which they were engaged; and when his army was finally broken up, as much by the licence and mutinous temper of the men and officers, as by the enemy's overpowering force, he disdained to make terms for himself, and retired with the ammunition and those who remained faithful into Pendennis castle. The last possibility which remained to the King of collecting an army in the field was destroyed when Lord Astley was defeated by superior numbers and taken. At the beginning of the war, this gallant soldier, before he charged in the battle of Edgehill, made a prayer, of which Hume says, there were certainly much longer ones said in the parliamentary army, but it may be doubted whether there were so good a one. It was simply this: "O Lord! thou knowest how busy I must be this day! If I forget thee, do not thou forget me." He now concluded his brave and irreproachable career, by a saying not less to be remembered by the enemy's officers, "You have done your work, and may now go to play, unless you chuse to fall out among yourselves."

Even before the loss of Bristol, Charles, whose judgment seldom deceived him, had seen that the worst was to be expected, and made up his mind to endure it as became him. In reply to a letter from Prince Rupert, who had advised him again to propose a treaty after that at Uxbridge had failed, he pointed out the certainty that no terms would be granted which it would not be criminal in him to accept; and at the same time fairly acknowledged the hopelessness of his affairs, save only for his trust in God. "I confess," he said, "that speaking either as to mere soldier or statesman, I must say there is no probability but of my ruin but as to Christian, I must tell you that God will not suffer rebels to prosper or his cause to be overthrown and whatsoever personal punishment it shall please him to inflict upon me, must not make me repine, much less to give over the quarrel. Indeed I cannot flatter myself with expectation of good success more

[* Against Fairfax, February 1645-6.]

[t Near Stow in the Wold in Gloucestershire, 21st March, 1645-6.] [Prince Rupert surrendered Bristol to Sir Thomas Fairfax, 11th September, 1645.]