A Popular History of England, From the Earliest Times to the Reign of Queen Victoria; Vol. III

by François Guizot

It was necessary at all cost to come to an end with an enemy so able and powerful, even when a prisoner—such was the force of his courage and eloquence. The second reading of the bill of attainder was hastened on; the most able and distinguished lawyers contended against it; the infuriated Commons desired to prevent the Lords from listening to the advocates of Strafford. The Lords resisted, and heard the pleadings, but the Lower House did not present itself, but four days subsequently, on the 21st of April, 1641, the bill was definitively passed. Fifty-nine members alone voted against it.

The king was disconsolate and profoundly anxious. He had himself exposed Strafford to this danger. "Be assured," he wrote to him, "upon my word as a king, that you shall suffer nothing, either in your life, or your fortune, or your honor." Negotiations and conspiracies were tried alternately, or at one and the same time. Attempts were on foot to pacify the chiefs of the Commons, or to obtain in the House of Lords a majority in favor of the earl. Enormous offers were made to the Governor of the Tower, Sir William Balfour, to allow the prisoner's escape. All collapsed in the face of official fidelity and popular passion. The king at length caused the two Houses to be summoned, and admitting the faults of the earl, promised that he would never employ him, even in the humblest office. He declared, however, that never would any reason, or any threat, make him consent to his death.

Charles presumed too much upon his courage. He did not yet know how completely the hatred of the Commons against Strafford was under the control of courage and ability. Popular violence was added to Parliamentary prosecutions. The Upper House, to which the bill of attainder had been carried, was besieged every day by a furious multitude, crying, "Justice! justice!" The Lords were insulted and summoned to declare themselves. Pym had for a long while held in reserve what he knew of the manœuvres of the court and the officers, to excite the army against Parliament; he published an account of this matter. Some of the accused persons fled, and terror spread in the House as well as among the people. It was decreed that all the ports should be closed, and that all letters coming from abroad should be opened. In remembrance of the conspiracy of Guy Fawkes, a rumor was circulated that the House was undermined, and the people hastened to Parliament to ascertain or to share its dangers. Meanwhile the two Houses united themselves by a vow for the defence of the Protestant religion and the public liberties. It was even attempted to impose the same pledge upon all citizens. In vain the Lords struggled against the rising tide; they endeavored to modify the bill of attainder. This the Commons refused; they were determined to obtain their complete vengeance. The Upper House yielded. Thirty-four of the Lords who had been present at the trial absented themselves; twenty-six voted for the bill, fourteen against; nothing was now wanting but the acquiescence of the king.

Charles still resisted. His affection and his honor were equally shocked. Hollis, brother-in-law of Strafford, advised the king to go himself and present to the Houses the petition of the earl, demanding a respite. He promised to induce his friends in the House to content themselves with banishment; but the queen beset him with her apprehensions. She did not like Strafford; she was terrified by the riots; she wished to fly, to embark, and return to France. The king listened, troubled and undecided. He convoked the privy council, then the bishops. Juxon alone advised him to follow his conscience; all the others persisted that Charles should sacrifice an individual to a throne; his conscience as a man to his conscience as a king. The Earl of Essex had said shortly before, "The king is obliged to conform both in regard to his person and his conscience to the advice and conscience of Parliament." His servants were repeating to him under another form this harsh truth, when Charles received a letter from Strafford himself. "Sire," wrote the Earl, "after a long and hard struggle, I have taken the only resolution which becomes me. Every private interest should give way to the prosperity of your sacred person and of the commonwealth. In passing this bill I beseech you to remove the obstacle to a blessed agreement between you and your subjects. Sir, my consent shall more acquit you herein to God than all the world can do besides. To a willing man there is no injury done, and as by God's grace I forgive all the world with a calmness and meekness of infinite contentment to my dislodging soul, that in your goodness you would vouchsafe to cast your gracious regard upon my poor son and his three sisters less or more, and no otherwise than as their (in present) unfortunate father may hereafter appear more or less guilty of this death."

On the morrow Strafford learnt in his prison that the king had given his assent to the fatal bill. He did not reply, but raising his hands toward heaven muttered this passage of the Psalm: "Put not your trust in princes nor in the sons of men, for in them there is no salvation."

It was on the 10th of May. On the morrow, the 11th, the Prince of Wales presented himself before Parliament with a letter from the king ending with these words: "If he must die it were charity to reprieve him till Saturday." Without taking heed of this last and miserable effort of Charles in favor of his great servant, the House appointed the morrow for the execution.

Strafford issued forth on foot from his prison, outstripping the guards as though he were marching at the head of his army: He declined the coach which the Governor of the Tower offered him, being afraid of the violence of the people. "No, Master Lieutenant," he said, "I dare look death in the face, and I hope the people too. I care not how I die, whether by the hand of the executioner or by the madness and fury of the people. If that may give them better content it is all one to me." Having arrived before the window of Laud's prison, he stopped. The old archbishop, informed on the previous evening of what was about to happen, stretched out his arms to bless the condemned man; but, agitated and enfeebled, he swooned and fell. "Farewell, my lord," said Strafford, as he went away, "God protect your innocence." He knelt upon the scaffold; then, raising himself, he addressed the immense crowd which surrounded him. "I wish," he said, "to this kingdom all the prosperity on earth; alive, I have always done so; dying, it is my only wish. But I implore each of those who listen to me to consider earnestly, with his hand upon his heart, whether the beginning of the reformation of a kingdom should be written in characters of blood. Think of it in returning to your homes. God forbid that the least drop of my blood fall upon any of you! But I fear that you are in a bad way." He knelt again, then shook hands with the friends who accompanied him. "I have nigh done," he said, "one stroke will make my wife husbandless, my dear children fatherless, and my poor servants masterless. But let God be to them all in all." He prepared himself to receive the fatal blow. "I thank God," he continued, "I am no more afraid of death, nor daunted with any discouragement arising from any fears, but do as cheerfully put off my doublet at this time as ever I did when I went to bed." He called to the executioner and gave the signal. "God save the king," exclaimed the executioner, showing the head to the people. Shouts of triumph answered him; but some were silent, and many people returned to their houses sad, uneasy, and almost doubting the justice of the act which they had so ardently desired.

The feeble policy of the king had missed its mark, as a policy of that kind always does. The death of Strafford had not removed the obstacle in the way of a reconciliation between the king and his subjects. In accepting the bill which struck down the most illustrious of his servants, Charles had at the same time, and almost without taking heed of the step he was taking, sanctioned a bill which prohibited any dissolution of Parliament without the approbation of the two Houses. But a mutual understanding, far from being re-established, became every day less possible between the king and the people. The power which the Commons had wrested piece by piece from the sovereign appeared to impel them more and more towards tyranny. Political reform was accomplished, but religious reform remained to be effected. Notwithstanding the moral enfeeblement of the Anglican Church, it retained its position. It was henceforth against this object that the confused and often antagonistic efforts of a great number of the chiefs of the Commons and the people were directed; but on the religious question their union was not so complete as when they stood on purely political ground, and the bold innovators were uneasy in the very midst of their success.