CHARLES I. KING AND SAINT.
The full High Church flavour of this anniversary is given in the ‘Weekly Remarks,’ of which the following is a sample: ‘Last Monday being the anniversary of the martyrdom of King Charles the First, who now wears a crown of glory in Heaven, and is the greatest saint there in the English calendar (the English saints would neither let him wear his crown nor even his head on earth), the Reverend Dr. Trap, who is lecturer of St. Martin’s, preached an excellent sermon in the morning at St. Andrew’s, where the church was so crowded that many could not be admitted to the audience; and in the afternoon, the very Reverend Dr. Henry Sacheverel, rector of St. Andrew’s, preached at St Martin’s, where there was a like concourse of people and a like elegant sermon. Their texts followed one another. They were taken out of St. Matthew xxiii., 31st to 36th verses. In these sermons they have shown themselves glorious Ministers of the Gospel.’
The same Jacobite paper thinks that the death of Dr. Williams, the eminent dissenting preacher of Hogsden, is a very ominous matter to the Dissenters. ‘The good old cause,’ it said, ‘must be playing the crab, and going backwards.’ The writer in the ‘Weekly Remarks’ affects to be grieved that the doctor did not outlive the 30th of January, to make merry with his congregation at a ‘Calves Head Feast,’ on the anniversary of the murder of King Charles.
THE REBEL PEERS.
But more serious scenes in the drama were now to follow. The rebel peers were to be tried, and Lord Cowper was appointed to act as Lord High Steward. Lord Cowper’s appointment to the office vexed both himself and his lady, but he had to support it with dignity. The going down to Westminster Hall was a grand sight for the Londoners. All the Lord High Steward’s servants had new liveries. There were five coaches, four with two, and one (in which Lord Cowper rode) with six horses—two footmen behind each. Garter with the wand, and the Usher of the Black Rod were in the same coach next to that of the Lord High Steward. Eighteen ‘gentlemen’ out of livery were on horseback between these two carriages. Although the liveries of the coachmen and footmen were new, Lady Cowper had them made plain, expressly. ‘I think it very wrong,’ she says in her Diary, ‘to make a parade upon so dismal an occasion as that of putting to death one’s fellow creatures.’
SOLEMN POLITENESS.
Their lordships entered the Hall in procession from the Upper House. A proclamation for silence hushed the remaining buzz of talk among the excited spectators. The managers of the impeachment for the Commons then took their places with much punctilious reverence. Next, order was given for the prisoners to be produced, one after the other, and then all eyes were directed towards the door from which each entered—the centre figure of a group of officials of distinguished rank, who held him in custody. The most remarkable official walked immediately behind the captive, bearing the processional axe with the edge turned away from the prisoner. This official was not the executioner, whose presence would not have been tolerated in such an assembly, but ‘the gentleman-jailor.’ The processional axe is not the weapon which is publicly exhibited; it is in charge of the resident governor. As soon as the prisoner reached his appointed place he sank on his knees, from which position the Lord High Steward blandly begged him to arise. Having obeyed, the poor prisoner turned to the peers and saluted them with the lowest bow he could accomplish, in testimony of his respect. Not to be behindhand in courtesy, the peers arose (such of them as were covered took off their hats), and bowed in return, as if they were quite glad to see the unhappy gentleman who was standing there for life or death. Lest he should build too lofty hopes on that basis of civility, or on any other token of politeness vouchsafed to him, the Lord High Steward, almost invariably, hastened to observe to him that he had better keep in memory that all those little attentions were tributes to his rank, which he hoped the peers would never forget. It was further intimated that they would send him to death should he be found a traitor, with every mark of detestation that their sense of politeness to him as a peer would permit them to show.
DERWENTWATER’S PLEA.
The Earl of Derwentwater was the first in rank, and therefore had the poor privilege of being the first of the seven lords who was called upon to plead. The crimes for which he was impeached by the Commons having been published, the prisoner was asked what answer he had to make thereto? Was he guilty or not guilty? The reply was a mean apology. The best thing that may be said for it is, that it was probably the work of Lord Derwentwater’s legal advisers, and that he was counselled to be almost abject, as the only means of rescuing at least his life.
The sum of it amounted to this. The poor earl was quite sure that if the ordinary course of justice had not been followed, it was because mercy might be the more readily extended to him, if the circumstances of his case could authorise it. He complimented the king for his royal attribute of clemency, and the earl the more urged its exercise on the ground that forgiveness would not encourage anyone to the future commission of treason, upon the presumption that his offence would necessarily be mercifully visited.—Guilty, no doubt, he had been, but he could hardly account for having become so. Constitutionally he was disposed to lead a quiet life. He knew nothing of any conspiracy (!); and, if he went to the first gathering at Plainfield, in Northumberland, he went innocently, having been told that he would find many friends and kinsmen assembled there. He joined them, he confessed, but it was done thoughtlessly; and, after casting in his fortunes with the enemies of King George, he never used the arms he wore. He might have cut his way through the king’s forces at Preston, but he had shuddered at the bloodshed that must ensue. The spilling of blood he was always anxious to prevent, and, in point of fact, he had yielded at the first manifestation of opposition; but, on assurance that the king’s mercy would be extended to him. When he was in the hands of the king’s generals, as a hostage for the surrender at Preston, he had urged on his friends the necessity of their honourably observing the promise, for the keeping of which he was himself a guarantee in safe custody. And he had told General Wills, whose prisoner he was, that whatever might happen, he would remain with the royal army;—from which there was no possibility of his getting away!