twelve officers of the army, coionels, lieutenant-colonels, majors, and captains; and within a few days the general and officers sent a letter to the house, informing it that they should appoint proper person to conduct the impeachment, and make good their charges; and desired the house to suspend the accused forthwith, as it was not fitting that those persons who had done their best to prejudice the army, should sit as judges of their own actions.
This, says Clarendon, was an arrow cut of their own quiver, which the commons did not expect; and though it was a legitimate consequence of the impeachments of Finch, Strafford, Laud, and others, they endeavoured to set it at defiance. The parliament and its army were, in fact, come to the pass which the brave old royalist. Sir Jacob Astley, had foreseen when he surrendered his regiment at Stowe, in 1646—"You have done your work, my masters, and may go and play, unless you will fall out amongst yourselves."
The army, to settle the matter, marched from St. Albans to Uxbridge, and at that sight the eleven members, Hollis and the rest, withdrew from the house of commons, and the commons assumed a modest and complying behaviour, voting the army under Fairfax to be the real army of England, and worthy of all respect. They sent certain proposals to Fairfax, which induced him to remove his headquarters from Uxbridge to Wycombe. The eleven members, looking on this as a degree of submission to parliament, immediately plucked up their courage, and Hollis and the rest appeared in their places, preferring charges in return against the officers, and demanding a fair trial. But they soon perceived their mistake, and, soliciting the speaker's leave of absence, and his passport to go out of the kingdom, disappeared.
At this juncture Charles, emboldened by the courtesy of the army, requested permission to see his children. He had been necessarily quartered, according to the movements of the army, at Newmarket, Royston, Hatfield House, Woburn Abbey, Windsor Castle, and was now residing at Caversham, a house of lord Craven's, near Reading. The parliament had tried in vain to get him out of the army's hands, by issuing a declaration to the kingdom, representing him as in restraint, and professing their readiness "to bring him with honour to his parliament, which had been their intention from the beginning." But the army appealed to the king himself, if he had not more liberty with them, more freedom to see his friends, than he had ever had in the hands of the parliament; and Charles expressed his readiness to remain, only desiring that both parties should hasten their arrangements, that the kingdom might come to peace and happiness, in which he should not be without a share.
Fairfax informed the parliament of his majesty's request to see his children, which was at once complied with. These were the duke of York, now about fifteen, the princess Elizabeth, a year or two younger than the duke, and the duke of Gloucester, about seven years of age. Charles, the prince of Wales, was, as we know, now in France, and the eldest daughter married to the prince of Orange. The youngest, Henrietta, who was born at Exeter, during the queen's visit to England, the king had never seen, for though the queen left her behind after the surrender of Exeter, her governess, the countess of Morton, bad contrived to carry her away to France, to the queen, whilst Charles was at Newcastle. Lady Merton was a Villiers, and, like most of that family, remarkably handsome; yet she contrived to act the beggar woman from Oatlands to Dover, having an artificial hump on her back, on which she carried the child, calling it her boy. But her own looks offered not the greatest danger of discovery; it was the little girl's indignation at her rags and disguise, telling almost every one that noticed her, that she was not a little beggar boy, but the princess. With the three remaining children Charles was allowed to spend a couple of days, and this privilege was afterwards frequently repeated. The interview was so affecting, that it drew tears even from Cromwell, which his enemies have attributed to his hypocrisy. There is no doubt, however, that they were real, and that Cromwell was at this time much disposed towards restoring the king under proper restrictions, though he treated him with much dignity, and did not condescend, like Fairfax, to kiss his hand.
The struggle betwixt the army and parliament, that is, betwixt the presbyterian and independent interests, was all this time raging. For six weeks the army was advancing or retiring, according as the parliament acted; the parliament only giving way through intimidation. According as the affairs stood, the city was peaceful or in alarm, now shutting all its shops, now much negotiation going on; the army lying still near, and paid more duly, out of terror, by the parliament. At length, the army had so far succeeded as to have the insulting declaration of Hollis, "the blot of ignominy," erased from the journals of the house, and the ordinance of the 4th of May, procured by Hollis, for the placing the militia of the city in more exclusively presbyterian hands, revoked. But towards the end of July, the strong presbyterian element in the city was again in such ferment, that it forgot its terrors of the army, and proceeded to daring extremities. The presbyterian faction demanded that conventicles, that is, all meeting-houses of all classes, except presbyterian, should be closed, and called all the citizens to meet in Guildhall, to hear the covenant read, and sign an engagement, soldiers, sailors, citizens, and apprentices, to drive away the army and bring the king to Westminster, and make a treaty with him. A hundred thousand signatures were put to this paper; and had the courage been half as great as the bluster, the army had been swept to destruction. On the 26th of July, a few days afterwards, a vast rabble surrounded the houses of parliament, calling on both lords and commons to restore the order regarding the city militia; they crowded into the houses with their hats on, crying, "Vote! vote!" and their numbers keeping the doors open. Under this intimidation both lords and commons voted the restoration of the presbyterian ordinance for the change of the militia, and adjourned to Friday.
On Friday the two houses met, but were astonished to find that their speakers had fled, accompanied by several members of both houses, and were gone to the army. It was found that Sir Henry Vane, the earl of Northumberland, the earl of Warwick, and other lords and commoners were gone. Had it been only Sir Henry Vane and the independents who had gone, it would have astonished nobody;
