A growing sympathy for the monarch became apparent. The cries of “Justice, justice!” which were heard at first were now mingled with “God save the King!”
Continuing The English Civil War,
our selection from Popular History of England by Charles Knight published in 1860. The selection is presented in 4 easy 5 minute installments. For works benefiting from the latest research see the “More information” section at the bottom of these pages.
Previously in The English Civil War.
Time: 1649
Place: England
Under what law does this insolent president address him as “Charles Stuart, King of England,” and say: “The Commons of England being deeply sensible of the calamities that have been brought upon this nation, which are fixed upon you as the principal author of them, have resolved to make inquisition for blood”? He will defy their authority. The clerk reads the charge, and when he is accused therein of being tyrant and traitor he laughs in the face of the court. “Though his tongue usually hesitated, yet it was very free at this time, for he was never discomposed in mind,” writes Warwick. “And yet,” it is added, “as he confessed himself to the Bishop of London that attended him, one action shocked him very much; for while he was leaning in the court upon his staff, which had a head of gold, the head broke off on a sudden. He took it up, but seemed unconcerned, yet told the Bishop it really made a great impression upon him.” It was the symbol of the treacherous hopes upon which he had rested — golden dreams that vanished in this solemn hour.
Again and again contending against the authority of the court, the King was removed, and the sitting was adjourned to the 22d. On that day the same scene was renewed; and again on the 23d. A growing sympathy for the monarch became apparent. The cries of “Justice, justice!” which were heard at first were now mingled with “God save the King!” He had refused to plead; but the court nevertheless employed the 24th and 25th of January in collecting evidence to prove the charge of his levying war against the Parliament. Coke, the solicitor-general, then demanded whether the court would proceed to pronouncing sentence; and the members adjourned to the Painted Chamber.
On the 27th the public sitting was resumed. When the name of Fairfax was called, a voice was heard from the gallery, “He has too much wit to be here.” The King was brought in; and, when the president addressed the commissioners, and said that the prisoner was before the court to answer a charge of high treason and other crimes brought against him in the name of the people of England, the voice from the gallery was again heard, “It’s a lie — not one-half of them.” The voice came from Lady Fairfax. The court, Bradshaw then stated, had agreed upon the sentence.
Ludlow records that the King “desired to make one proposition before they proceeded to sentence; which he earnestly pressing, as that which he thought would lead to the reconciling of all parties, and to the peace of the three kingdoms, they permitted him to offer it: the effect of which was that he might meet the two Houses in the Painted Chamber, to whom he doubted not to offer that which should satisfy and secure all interests.” Ludlow goes on to say, “Designing, as I have been since informed, to propose his own resignation, and the admission of his son to the throne upon such terms as should have been agreed upon.”
The commissioners retired to deliberate, “and being satisfied, upon debate, that nothing but loss of time would be the consequence of it, they returned into the court with a negative to his demand.” Bradshaw then delivered a solemn speech to the King, declaring how he had through his reign endeavored to subvert the laws and introduce arbitrary government; how he had attempted, from the beginning, either to destroy parliaments or to render them subservient to his own designs; how he had levied war against the Parliament, by the terror of his power to discourage forever such assemblies from doing their duty, and that in this war many thousands of the good people of England had lost their lives. The clerk was lastly commanded to read the sentence, that his head should be severed from his body; “and the commissioners,” says Ludlow, “testified their unanimous assent by standing up.” The King attempted to speak, “but, being accounted dead in law, was not permitted.”
On January 29th the court met to sign the sentence of execution, addressed to “Colonel Francis Hacker, Colonel Huncks, and Lieutenant-Colonel Phayr, and to every one of them.” This is the memorable document:
Whereas Charles Stuart, king of England, is and standeth convicted, attainted and condemned of High Treason and other high Crimes: and Sentence upon Saturday last was pronounced against him by this Court, to be put to death by the severing of his head from his body; of which Sentence execution remaineth to be done:
These are therefore to will and require you to see the said Sentence executed, in the open street before Whitehall, upon the morrow, being the thirtieth day of this instant month of January, between the hours of ten in the morning and five in the afternoon with full effect. And for so doing, this shall be your warrant.
And these are to require all Officers and Soldiers, and others the good people of this Nation of England, to be assisting unto you in this service.
Given under our hands and seals.
JOHN BRADSHAW
THOMAS GREY
OLIVER CROMWELL.” And fifty-six others.
The statements of the heartless buffoonery, and the daring violence of Cromwell, at the time of signing the warrant, must be received with some suspicion. He smeared Henry Marten’s face with the ink of his pen, and Marten in return smeared his, say the narratives. Probably so. With reference to this anecdote it has been wisely observed, “Such ‘toys of desperation’ commonly bubble up from a deep flowing stream below.” Another anecdote is told by Clarendon; that Colonel Ingoldsby, one who signed the warrant, was forced to do so with great violence, by Cromwell and others; “and Cromwell, with a loud laughter, taking his hand in his, and putting the pen between his fingers, with his own hand writ ‘Richard Ingoldsby,’ he making all the resistance he could.”
Ingoldsby gave this relation, in the desire to obtain a pardon after the Restoration; and to confirm his story he said, “if his name there were compared with what he had ever writ himself, it could never be looked upon as his own hand.” Warburton, in a note upon this passage, says, “The original warrant is still extant, and Ingoldsby’s name has no such mark of its being wrote in that manner.”
Lord Thomas Macaulay began here. Charles Knight began here.
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