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

by Leopold von Ranke

On the way he was greeted at Winchester by a portion of the gentry with the old respect; at Windsor he felt almost at home again; his former apartments had been prepared for him, and he was served at table, for instance, with the ancient ceremony, the cup-bearer presenting him the cup on his knee: a walk on the beautiful terrace was naturally far more pleasant than his view at Hurst Castle over the lonely sea. Now for the first time he heard what had taken place in Parliament, and that the party which had been negotiating with him was ruined. He began to be afraid that they would deprive him of the government: he thought that they would offer the throne to his son, and confine him in some fortress, perhaps the Tower: of this he was convinced. When informed that he was to be brought to London, he exclaimed ‘God is everywhere.’

It was not a long imprisonment, nor secret murder that awaited him, but what no one had expected, a formal trial in the full glare of publicity. At St. James’s, whither he was at once conducted, the forms of homage with which he was accustomed to be served were finally dropped: and on A.D. 1649. January 20 he was brought before the tribunal which was to pronounce sentence of life or death on him. There was much suspense as to whether he would recognise the tribunal and answer to the accusation. The Independents intimated that, if he defended himself, fourteen days would be necessary for his trial, but that, if he refused, the end would be reached in four days[549].

The members of the court kept on their hats when the King entered Westminster Hall, conducted by Colonel Tomlinson and an armed escort: he too did not uncover his head. They did not recognise him as their king, nor he them as his judges. At the first words of the indictment, which said that the supreme power had been entrusted to him by the people, he interrupted the clerk who was reading it with the remark that he possessed the royal power by hereditary right, it had not been entrusted to him (by men): the violent expressions which followed, in which he was described as a traitor, a murderer, and a public enemy, he received with ironical laughter. Then the Lord President requested him to answer to the indictment; in reply, he asked first to be informed by what lawful authority he was here tried: he would submit to any such, but to recognise an unlawful authority would be to violate the duty he owed to God. Further than this he could not be induced to go. As his went away his eyes fell on the sword which lay on the table: he said that he was not afraid of it[550].

The next sitting, on January 22, is not without interest controversially. At a meeting of the judicial commission with the Lower House it had been decided that the King could not be allowed to call in question its legality, even conditionally: the sitting was opened with a declaration that the court had weighed the objection made by the accused, but had convinced itself that its competence, being founded on the authority of the Commons of England, admitted of no doubt. The King was astonished at their giving him no A.D. 1649. reasons, and went on further to develope his own. He said that he had been defending not his own cause only, but had been standing up for the rights of the people: for if a power raised itself up without law, and wanted to make laws and to upset the fundamental laws of the realm, who in the country would be secure of his life or could call anything his own? The President interrupted him with the remark that the court sat there in the name of the Commons of England, to whom the King was answerable, like his forefathers. The King rose and said that he desired that any precedent could be shown him, for the Commons of England had never been a court of justice. He was not allowed to say any more: when he was again alone, he wrote down what he had intended to say. It was mainly that that procedure only could be lawful which was by the law of God, or by the law of the land. No one would maintain that the former allowed any proceedings against the King, for the Scripture said that where the word of a king was, there was power, and no man could say to him What doest thou? Nor could the King be tried according to English law, for every indictment ran in his name, and the old principle was that the King could do no wrong. Charles I, in maintaining his superiority in opposition to the supposed commission of the people, which moreover had never been asked for[551], returns always to the necessity for laws and a government to protect life and property. But what was the case then? how had the two Houses of Parliament been treated? The Upper House had been thrust aside, and most part of the Lower excluded from the sittings by force or terror. What would be the result if a power, governing without order or law, sought to overturn the old form of the constitution under which England had flourished for centuries? He had been brought there against his will, but he was defending along with his own rights the liberty of the people also.

It is not stated in the protocols, but a member of the court has related, that the King’s appeal to his divine right A.D. 1649. was met by a similar claim on behalf of the Commons. He and the people had appealed to the sword, which had decided in favour of the people: but the people would not hold the sword in vain, but sought expiation for the blood that had been shed. It might have been in reference to this that the King added, that he had taken up arms to maintain the fundamental laws of the realm.

The question in this trial is not strictly one of legal procedure. It brings to light the opposition of the two powers which move the world, the inherited, historically formed power, interwoven with existing laws and prevailing social ideas, and that which ascribes to the representation of the people, even though, as in this case, highly imperfect, an unlimited authority before which all historical rights vanish. The idea of the sovereignty of the people and the divine right of kings enter as it were into a bodily struggle with each other.

It almost seems as if Charles I had felt tempted to answer, for he spoke readily and in these days well[552]: it seemed to him easy to rebut the accusation in single points, and to bring his innocence to light; but this would have constituted a recognition of the tribunal, which he would never allow to be laid to his charge: he would have deemed it to be sanctioning illegality, and sacrificing the rights and dignity of his crown.

The tradition goes that at this juncture offers were once more made to him by the army: he was promised that his life should be spared, that he should even retain the crown, if he would agree that the army should remain as an independent body under the officers which it then had, or which the council of war should name, and be empowered itself to collect, by the aid of an extensive martial law, the land-tax to be devoted to its pay. Charles I is said to have answered that he would not subject his people to the arbitrary power of an armed faction: he would sacrifice himself for his people.

A.D. 1649.

At the request of the Prince of Wales the States-General sent an extraordinary embassy to intercede for the King’s life; but the Lower House did not think proper to give them an audience. Queen Henrietta prayed for leave to come back and be with her husband: the contents of her letter were known, but Parliament set it aside unopened. The French ambassador did not venture to interfere: he was afraid that it would not only avail nothing, but irritate them against France; for there was already a talk of aiding the insurrection which had broken out in Paris[553]. At last Mazarin determined to send De Varennes to London as ambassador-extraordinary, warning him at the same time that he must avoid injuring the interests of France by his intervention on behalf of Charles I; but De Varennes had not gone further than Boulogne before all was over in London.