Having now no other resource, the king placed himself under the protection of the Scots army at Newark. But at the desire of the Scots he ordered the surrender of Oxford and all his other garrisons. Also the Parliament, at the Scots' request, sent propositions of peace to him, and these proposals were promptly enforced by the Scots. The Chancellor of Scotland told him that the Parliament, after the battles that had been fought, had got the strongholds and forts of the kingdom into their hands, that they had gained a victory over all, and had a strong army to maintain it, so that they might do what they would with church and state, that they desired neither him nor any of his race to reign any longer over them, and that if he declined to yield to the propositions made to him, all England would join against him to depose him.
With great magnanimity and resolution the king replied that they must proceed their own way; and that though they had all forsaken him, God had not. The Scots began to talk sturdily in answer to a demand that they should deliver up the king's person to Parliament. They denied that the Parliament had power absolutely to dispose of the king's person without their approbation; and the Parliament as loudly replied that they had nothing to do in England but to observe orders. But these discourses were only kept up till they could adjust accounts between them, and agree what price should be paid for the delivery of his person, whom one side was resolved to have, and the other as resolved not to keep. So they quickly agreed that, upon payment of £200,000 in hand, and security for as much more upon days agreed upon, they would deliver up the king into such hands as Parliament should appoint to receive him.
And upon this infamous contract that excellent prince was in the end of January, 1647, wickedly given up by his Scottish subjects to those of the English who were trusted by the Parliament to receive him. He was brought to his own house at Holmby, in Northants, a place he had taken much delight in. Removed before long to Hampton Court, he escaped to the Isle of Wight, where he confided himself to Colonel Hammond and was lodged in Carisbrooke Castle. To prevent his further escape his old servants were removed from him.
In a speech in Parliament Cromwell declared that the king was a man of great parts and a great understanding (faculties they had hitherto endeavoured to have thought him to be without), but that he was so great a dissembler and so false a man, that he was not to be trusted. He concluded therefore that no more messages should be sent to the king, but that they might enter on those counsels which were necessary without having further recourse to him, especially as at that very moment he was secretly treating with the Scottish commissioners, how he might embroil the nation in a new war, and destroy the Parliament. The king was removed to Hurst Castle after a vain attempt by Captain Burley to rescue him.
A committee being appointed to prepare a charge of high treason against the king, of which Bradshaw was made President, his majesty was brought from Hurst Castle to St. James's, and it was concluded to have him publicly tried. From the time of the king's arrival at St. James's, when he was delivered into the custody of Colonel Tomlinson, he was treated with much more rudeness and barbarity than ever before. No man was suffered to see or speak to him but the soldiers who were his guard.
When he was first brought to Westminster Hall, on January 20, 1649, before their high court of justice, he looked upon them and sat down without any manifestation of trouble, never stirring his hat; all the impudent judges sitting covered and fixing their eyes on him, without the least show of respect. To the charges read out against him the king replied that for his actions he was accountable to none but God, though they had always been such as he need not be ashamed of before all the world.
Several unheard-of insolences which this excellent prince was forced to submit to before that odious judicatory, his majestic behaviour, the pronouncing that horrible sentence upon the most innocent person in the world, the execution of that sentence by the most execrable murder ever committed since that of our blessed Saviour, and the circumstances thereof, are all so well-known that the farther mentioning it would but afflict and grieve the reader, and make the relation itself odious; and therefore no more shall be said here of that lamentable tragedy, so much to the dishonour of the nation and the religion professed by it.