When the Scots were threatening Northumberland, the King was at his wit’s end to raise money to pay his troops, and, as a last resource, he summoned a parliament. The objects were declared in the opening speech to be, to put down the Scots by the sword, and to raise money to pay the costs which had already been incurred in the war. To rouse their patriotism, the King read an intercepted letter from the Lords of the Covenant to the French King, asking for assistance, in the name of the old alliance between the two countries. But the appeal fell flat, the English Commons looked upon the Scottish insurgents more as allies than as enemies, and with kindred grievances to be redressed. So they would grant the King no money until they had settled other matters with him; and after eighteen days spent in wrangling, he called them to the bar of the House of Lords, and haughtily dismissed them.
COVENANTERS’ FLAG.
Meanwhile, the Scots holding Newcastle, commanded the coal supply of London; and they took possession of Durham, Darlington, and Northallerton. Every town in which the Blue Bonnets appeared, received them kindly, and they kept strict discipline, occupying a good deal of their time in psalm singing and hearing sermons. They professed loyalty to the king, declaring that they had come only as humble petitioners to be allowed to retain their Presbyterian Kirk. Against such meek and harmless invaders, Charles could not raise an effective war-cry; he found that his troops were lukewarm in his cause; he was strongly urged to come to terms with them, and he appointed commissioners to arrange a treaty. The Scots were meantime, from a loan raised by the citizens of London, to have £40,000 a month for their maintenance.
And for the second time in this year (1640) Charles was obliged to call a Parliament. It met in November, and—existing for nineteen years—is known in history as the Long Parliament. Its first session was marked by the imprisonment of Laud, and the impeachment of Strafford for treason against the liberties of the people. Strafford defended himself with great ability, and Pym, who conducted the impeachment, fearing his prey would escape him, got the Commons to pass a Bill of Attainder—a measure for the destruction of those for whose real or imputed offences the law had provided no penalties. Under clamour and tumult the Bill was also passed by the peers, and waited only confirmation by the king. Charles hesitated—what conscience he had was pricked at the thought of sacrificing one whose chief fault had been over-zealous loyalty to himself, and helping him in his designs. But a letter from Strafford, asking the king to leave him to his fate, was enough for Charles; he signed the warrant, and Strafford was, in May 1641, beheaded on Tower Hill. Laud was for four years detained in prison, and was then executed.
The Civil War.
In the early part of 1642, matters between the king and Parliament had become so strained, that both sides began to make preparations for war. On January 4th, Charles had in person obtruded into the House of Commons, and made an abortive attempt to arrest six members, who were especially obnoxious to him. This overt act of the kings roused the cry of “privilege,” and in Parliamentary circles excited general alarm and resentment. Upon a demand made by Parliament for the command of the army, the king broke off all amicable intercourse, and leaving the capital, raised his standard at Nottingham, having under him an army of ten thousand men.
The Parliament raised a larger, but a less disciplined and less ably officered, army. On October 23rd, at Edgehill, in Warwickshire, for the first time since the overthrow, by Henry of Lancaster, of Richard the Third at Bosworth, in 1485, a battle was fought between Englishmen. The advantage was with the King; and so, generally, was the campaign of the following year, 1643. He defeated a Parliamentary army at Newbury in Berkshire, and his dashing nephew, Prince Rupert, took Bristol by assault; but he failed to take Gloucester, and lost a second battle at Newbury. Meantime, Cromwell was beginning to take a foremost place as a military disciplinarian and strategist—holding the rank of general of cavalry; his will and purpose came to dominate the entire Parliamentary army.
Charles came to Scotland to try to win over the Covenanters to help him against his Parliament. He would almost go the length of renouncing episcopacy, and he ratified the deeds of the Glasgow Assembly. But the Scots were on good terms with the English Parliament, and were even sanguine of extending the presbyterian covenant into England, where an anti-prelatical spirit was, under the now assertive puritanism, rapidly rising.
On the 1st of July, 1643, an assembly of divines from both countries, convoked by Parliament, met in Westminster Abbey. It was composed of men of learning, of zealous piety and strong purpose; but they were also men of their own time, sharing in its prejudices, its intolerance, and its admixture of dogmatic theology with the politics and the partizanship of the day. The grand truths, that God alone is Lord of the conscience, and that it is as vain to try to fix and arrest opinions as it is to fix the direction of the winds, or to arrest the tides, had not then come to be rooted in the minds of men. For four years the Assembly sat, arguing and discussing all the points in orthodox theology, and the various forms of church government. The fruits of the “great consult,” are in the form of documents which are still the recognised standards of presbyterian faith and worship throughout the world. In August, 1647, the Scottish commissioners reported the results to the Edinburgh General Assembly, and these results were received as the basis of uniformity in faith, to be established throughout the three kingdoms.