Pym's speech occupied some hours in delivery. In the midst of it came interruption. With the usual formalities, a message arrived from the House of Lords, touching the conference to which the Archbishop had referred that morning. Though the message itself could not at first have been contrived with a view of getting at the secret, about which outside curiosity had risen to fever heat; yet it might have been sent at that moment, with the hope of worming out what His Majesty's Commons were doing within locked doors. But the messengers, as they walked slowly up to the clerk's table, making their measured obeisances, were none the wiser for their visit. Pym, suspecting some other object than the professed one, had them quickly dispatched with the answer, "that as the House was engaged on very weighty business it could not meet the Lords just then." At the same time, he managed to "give such advertisement to some of the Lords," that their House might be kept from rising till his project should be fully accomplished.
Debates on Religion.
The messengers dismissed, the doors re-locked, the buzz of conversation hushed, Pym resumed, and at length ended his speech by demanding that Strafford should be impeached. The demand found "consent from the whole House;" nor in all the debate did one person offer to stop the torrent of condemnation by any favourable testimony respecting the Earl. Lord Falkland only counselled that time should be taken to digest the accusation. Pym immediately replied such delay would blast all hopes, for Strafford, hearing of their intentions, "would undoubtedly procure the Parliament to be dissolved."
The House at once appointed a committee of seven to draw up the charges. They retired, and soon returned with their report. The House at once solemnly resolved to impeach the Earl at the bar of the Lords.
The clock had struck four. The doors were thrown open. "The leader of the Commons issued forth, and followed by upwards of three hundred of the members, crossed over in the full sight of the assembled crowd, to the Upper House." Standing at the bar, with the retinue of members pressing round, Pym, in the name of the Commons, accused Strafford of high treason.[102]
1640, November.
Strafford's seat was empty. The Commons withdrew. After consideration of the message by the peers, the Lord-keeper acknowledged its receipt, gave credit for due care taken in the business, and promised a further answer. The Earl was sitting at Whitehall with the King. Swift as the wind, tidings of the impeachment began to travel, and reached the accused amongst the first. He had been out-manœuvred. While preparing for an attack on the enemy's camp he found his own citadel assailed, stormed, taken. Still dauntless, he coolly remarked, "I will go and look mine accusers in the face." Then going to the court gate he took coach, and drove to the House. Advancing to the threshold, he "rudely" demanded admission. James Maxwell, keeper of the Black Rod, opened the door. His lordship, with a "proud glouming countenance," made towards his seat as well as his lameness would allow. He sat down, heard[103] what was going on, and, in spite of orders to withdraw, "kept his confidence and his place till it raised a vehement redoubling of the former scorn, and occasioned the Lord-keeper to tell him that he must withdraw, and to charge the gentleman usher that he would look well to him."[104]
The proud minister found himself detained in the lobby of the House in which once his word had been law.
The Lords debated further on the message of the Commons, and came to the conclusion that the Earl, for this accusation of high treason, should be committed to the safe custody of the gentleman usher, and be sequestered from coming to Parliament until he cleared himself. Called in, he was commanded to kneel at the bar. Completely vanquished, he did so on the very spot where his great antagonist an hour before had stood a conqueror. He now had formal information of the charge brought up by Pym, and was taken into custody. Master Black Rod, proud of his business, required his prisoner to deliver up his sword, and told a waiting-man to carry it. As the prisoner retired, all gazed, but no man "capped to him before whom, that morning, the greatest of England would have stood discovered."[105] Discourteous speeches followed—for an English mob has little pity for fallen greatness—and, to add to his humiliation, when at last, amidst the bustle, the Earl found his carriage, Master Maxwell insolently remarked, "Your lordship is my prisoner, and must go in my coach."
Debates on Religion.