the privates, and had made several converts among the officers. These fanatics had discovered in the Bible, that the government of kings was odious in the sight of God,[1] and contended that in fact Charles had now no claim to the sceptre. Protection and allegiance were reciprocal. At his accession he had bound himself by oath to protect the liberties of his subjects, and by the violation of that oath he had released the people from the obligation of allegiance to him. For the decision of the question he had appealed to the God of battles, who, by the result, had decided against his pretensions. He therefore was answerable for the blood which had been shed; and it was the duty of the representatives of the nation to call him to justice for the crimes and, in order to prevent the recurrence of similar mischiefs, to provide for the liberties of all, by founding an equal commonwealth on the general consent. Cromwell invited the patrons of this doctrine to meet at his house the grandees (so they were called) of the parliament and army. The question was argued; but both he and his colleagues were careful to conceal their real sentiments. They did not openly contradict the principles laid down by the Levellers, but they affected to doubt the possibility of reducing them to practice. The truth was, that they wished not to commit themselves by too explicit an avowal before they could see their way plainly before them.[2]
In this feverish state of the public mind in England, every eye was turned towards the proceedings in Scotland. For some time a notion had been cherished by the Scottish clergy, that the king at Carisbrook had not only subscribed the covenant, but had solemnly
[Footnote 1: 1 Kings, viii. 8.]
[Footnote 2: Ludlow, i. 206. Whitelock, 317.]
engaged to enforce it throughout his dominions; and the prospect of a speedy triumph over the Independents induced them to preach a crusade from the pulpit in favour of the kirk and the throne. But the return of the commissioners, and the publication of "the agreement" with the king, bitterly disappointed their hopes. It was found that Charles had indeed consented to the establishment of Presbyterianism in England, but only as an experiment for three years, and with the liberty of dissent both for himself, and for those who might choose to follow his example. Their invectives were no longer pointed against the Independents; "the agreement" and its advocates became the objects of their fiercest attacks. Its provisions were said to be unwarranted by the powers of the commissioners, and its purpose was pronounced an act of apostasy from the covenant, an impious attempt to erect the throne of the king in preference to the throne of Christ. Their vehemence intimidated the Scottish parliament, and admonished the duke of Hamilton to proceed with caution. That nobleman, whose imprisonment ended with the surrender of Pendennis, had waited on the king in Newcastle; a reconciliation followed; and he was now become the avowed leader of the royalists and moderate Presbyterians. That he might not irritate the religious prejudices of his countrymen, he sought to mask his real object, the restoration of the monarch, under the pretence of suppressing heresy and schism; he professed the deepest veneration for the covenant, and the most implicit deference to the authority of the kirk; he listened with apparent respect to the remonstrances of the clerical commission, and openly solicited its members to aid the parliament with their wisdom, and to state their desires. But these were mere words intended to lull suspicion. By dint of numbers (for his party comprised two-thirds of the convention), he obtained the appointment of a committee of danger; this was followed by a vote to place the kingdom in a posture of defence; and the consequence of that vote was the immediate levy of reinforcements for the army. But his opponents under the earl of Argyle threw every obstacle in his way. They protested in parliament against the war; the commissioners of the kirk demanded that their objections should be previously removed; the women cursed the duke as he passed, and pelted him with stones from their windows; and the ministers from their pulpits denounced the curse of God on all who should take a share in the unholy enterprise. Forty thousand men had been voted; but though force was frequently employed, and blood occasionally shed, the levy proceeded so slowly, that even in the month of July the grand army hardly exceeded one-fourth of that number.[1]
By the original plan devised at Hampton Court, it had been arranged that the entrance of the Scots into England should be the signal for a simultaneous rising of the royalists in every quarter of the kingdom. But the former did not keep their time, and the zeal of the latter could not brook delay.[a] The first who proclaimed the king, was a parliamentary officer, Colonel Poyer, mayor of the town, and governor of the castle, of Pembroke. He refused to resign his military appointment at the command of Fairfax, and, to justify
[Footnote 1: Memoirs of the Hamiltons, 339, 347, 353. Thurloe, i. 94. Rushworth, vii. 1031, 48, 52, 67, 114, 132. Two circumstantial and interesting letters from Baillie, ii. 280-297. Whitelock, 305. Turner, 52.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1648. March 3.]
his refusal, unfurled the royal standard. Poyer was joined by Langherne and Powel, two officers whose forces had lately been disbanded. Several of the men hastened to the aid of their former leaders; the Cavaliers ran to arms in both divisions of the principality; a force of eight thousand men was formed; Chepstow was surprised, Carnarvon besieged, and Colonel Fleming defeated.[a] By these petty successes the unfortunate men were lured on to their ruin. Horton checked their progress; Cromwell followed with five regiments to punish their presumption. The tide immediately changed. Langherne was defeated; Chepstow was recovered; the besiegers of Carnarvon were cut to pieces. On the refusal of Poyer to surrender, the lieutenant-general assembled his corps after sunset, and the fanatical Hugh Peters foretold that the ramparts of Pembroke, like those of Jericho, would fall before the army of the living God. From prayer and sermon the men hastened to the assault; the ditch was passed, the walls were scaled; but they found the garrison at its post, and, after a short but sanguinary contest, Cromwell ordered a retreat. A regular siege was now formed; and the Independent general, notwithstanding his impatience to proceed to the north, was detained more than six weeks before this insignificant fortress.[1]
Scarcely a day passed, which was not marked by some new occurrence indicative of the approaching contest.[c] An alarming tumult in the city, in which the apprentices forced the guard, and ventured to engage the military under the command of the general, was quickly followed by similar disturbances in