A history of England principally in the seventeenth century, Volume 2 (of 6)

by Leopold von Ranke

On December 9/19 some regiments of horse and foot again entered London. They imposed heavy contributions, and A.D. 1649. arrested the suspected and their opponents[544], but otherwise maintained strict discipline. The city was bridled, the Lower House transformed into a mere instrument of the army: it could now proceed to do what had long been intended, and bring the King to legal trial as the great criminal.

Even as the prisoner of the army Charles I, since it had broken with him, had twice become dangerous to it, once through his treaty with the Scots, and again through his pacific dealings with Parliament. He was so still at this moment: so long as he lived the Independent leaders, who had laid violent hands on him, felt their own existence threatened by his. They thought that they must either condemn the King, or themselves be accounted guilty[545]. Moreover his condemnation would imply the complete victory and sanctioning of their principles.

In the present state of the Lower House there was no difficulty about carrying through the impeachment. The King was therein designated as Charles Stuart, at present King of England. He was first charged with the same crime for which Strafford had been condemned, namely with having sought to overthrow the ancient liberties and fundamental laws of the nation, and to introduce a tyrannical and arbitrary government. The second and chief accusation was that he had caused civil war, and filled the country with rapine and bloodshed. His punishment was demanded chiefly that henceforth no magistrate might hope to remain unpunished, if he tried to bring the English nation to bondage or to any other form of ruin. The draft was accepted in the Lower House on January 1, 1649, and the next day was sent to the Lords.

They had assembled in greater numbers than usual: as a rule there were not more than four of them, now there were twelve, and their opposition was unanimous. Lord Manchester declared it inconceivable that the King should A.D. 1649. be accused of high treason against Parliament, for Parliament consisted of King, Lords, and Commons, and there could be none without the King. Lord Northumberland remarked that nineteen twentieths of the inhabitants of the country were doubtful which of the two parties had begun the war, and that there was no law to meet the case; it would be unreasonable to proceed where the facts were doubtful, and even if they were certain no law was applicable. Then the proposal for erecting a court of justice to try the King came on for discussion. Denbigh, the Speaker of the House, who found his name among those who had been designated as members of this court, declared at this point that he would rather let himself be torn in pieces than take part in so abominable a thing. The two drafts were unanimously rejected, and the House adjourned for a week, that it might not be further troubled with the matter immediately.

As the House of Lords thus refused its co-operation, so that no vote of the two Houses of Parliament was to be expected, on what ground of even colourable legality could any further proceedings rest? In the earlier conflicts the idea had been mooted that the Lower House represented the nation, and might go its way without the Lords; but this had never yet happened. The view too that Parliament of itself possessed the supreme power, though it had now and then been expressed, had as yet found no approval in Parliament itself. It had based the authority which it exercised on the fiction that the King’s will was virtually contained in the resolutions of the two Houses. Now however no further use could be made of this, and a principle was wanted, which should dispense with all reference to King or Lords: the idea they adopted was that of national sovereignty, and of its being represented by the Commons.

On January 4 the Lower House formed itself into a Committee to draw up resolutions stating the extent of its rights. For this purpose it laid down three main principles, that the source of all power, under God, was in the people; that the supreme power belonged to the Commons, as having been elected by the people and representing it; and that what they declared to be law was so, even without the assent of the A.D. 1649. King and the Lords. After the House had resumed, these principles were recognised by one member after another[546]. It was in itself an event of incalculable importance that an idea originating in the realm of philosophic abstractions, after having been adopted by a strong faction possessing the power of the sword, thus obtained acceptance in the ruling constitutional body of a great nation. No single political idea in the course of the last few centuries has exercised an influence at all comparable to that of the sovereignty of the people. Repressed at times, and influencing only opinions, and then breaking out again, often recognised, but never realised, and always making its way, it has furnished the ever active leaven of the modern world. The Scots had thought to unite the sovereignty of the people with monarchy by divine right: but the Independents opposed the latter with vigour. The idea of popular sovereignty was adopted in its full strength, but at the same time, it must be owned, in a form which contradicted its substance. The theoretical maintenance of the fullest rights of popular independence was coupled with practical subjection to military power.

In the House of Lords, in the absence of Manchester and Northumberland, a proposal was made by way of compromise for a lawful resolution, by which it should for the future be accounted high treason if a King levied war against the Parliament and realm of England[547]: in such a case he should be tried before Parliament. The difference is obvious, as thereby the old constitution, and also the safety of the King, would have been secured. But on the grounds of the principle once adopted and recognised as valid, before which all formal legality vanished, the Lower House as then constituted deemed itself justified in proceeding on its course. It resolved that the ordinance rejected by the Lords for erecting a tribunal to A.D. 1649. judge the King should be issued in the usual forms of English procedure. Accordingly the Commission already named assembled and appointed a high court of justice, the members of which were immediately nominated. A far greater number, originally 150, had been intended, but not more than sixty or seventy actually met, only four of them being lawyers, one of whom, John Bradshaw, was chosen president: the rest were generals and colonels in the army, members of Parliament, country gentlemen, aldermen, and citizens of London, and some lords, like Thomas Lord Grey of Groby, adherents of the army and its ideas. All was prepared for its sittings to begin in Westminster Hall on January 20.

Charles I might probably still have escaped the night before he was removed from Newport (November 29). His attendants represented to him that it was now no less necessary, and quite as possible, for him to fly as when he was at Hampton Court. But the Parliament at the opening of the conferences had not only taken precautions which made success at least doubtful, but had also obtained from him a promise not to quit the island during the conferences or for twenty days afterwards. He was told in vain that the state of things had altered, since it was no longer Parliament, but the army, that governed. Although this Prince, so long as he was free, was fond of dealing with different parties on contrary principles, yet when he had once given his word he deemed himself irrevocably bound by it. When the question was pressed upon him, he answered by a flat refusal. ‘They have made a promise to me, and I to them; I will not be the first to break mine[548].’ Charles I had scarcely an apprehension that the views of the Agitators, before which he had fled from Hampton Court, were now shared by the officers who had once prevailed over them. But the disrespectful violence with which he was carried off, at the moment when he was expecting peace, made a crushing impression upon him. When his friends gathered round him to kiss his hand at his departure, they saw for the first time clouds on his brow and melancholy in his demeanour.

A.D. 1649.

At Hurst Castle the fear seized him that he should be murdered there. It was more a blockhouse than a castle, having been built by Henry VIII for the defence of the coast, on a tongue of land projecting into the sea, with the waves beating round it on all sides but one, with narrow, dark, and prison-like rooms. No good was presaged on seeing the governor, a man of stern looks, long thick black hair and beard, a huge sword by his side, and a partisan in his hand. The King had been before warned against Major Harrison, as a man quite capable of putting him to death. When in the night the drawbridge was heard to fall, and it was announced that Major Harrison had just arrived, the King really thought that this man was going to murder him, as some of his ancestors had been secretly and treacherously slain: the place seemed to him just suited for such an act. Harrison however was very far from harbouring the thought ascribed to him: he came to bring the King the acceptable tidings that he was to be removed from the worst to the best of his castles, that of Windsor.