but the next day was the last clay of the commissioners. Charles, seeing the desperate pass at which matters had arrived, suddenly gave way, and conceded that the seven individuals excepted from pardon should take their trials—namely, the marquis of Newcastle, Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who had been confined in Nottingham Castle, but had escaped, lord Digby, Sir Richard Grenville, Sir Francis Doddrington, lord Byron, and Mr. Justice Jenkins; that the bishops should be abolished, and their lands vested in the crown till a final settlement of religion.
Commissioners took their leave, Charles solemnly warning the lords of the party that in his ruin they saw their own. Though he had given up everything at the last moment, he could not flatter himself that this would be accepted, because he knew that the army, which held the real power, had protested against this treaty altogether, as a violation of the vote of non-addresses, and had no faith in his observance of any conditions whatever. With the commissioners, Hammond also took his leave, and the king was left in the hands of major Rolfe, a man who had been charged with a design to take away the king's life six months before. But Charles was not intended to remain in this man's custody; a body of troops under lieutenant-colonel Cobbet was already on its way to receive the charge. The friends of the king, on learning this, once more implored him to endeavour to escape. The duke of Richmond, the earl of Lindsay, and colonel Coke, urged him to instant flight; they acquainted him with the watchword, and Coke told him he had a boat and horses ready. But all their persuasions were vain; Charles would not move. He pleaded that he had given his parole to the parliament for twenty days after the treaty. And this was the same man who had been writing north and south during the whole treaty, to assure his friends that ho meant to break his word on every point of the treaty, the first moment that he was at liberty. The real reason, we may believe, why Charles did not attempt to escape, was, that he had no-hope of it. In all his attempts he never had escaped, and must have had a full conviction that he never could. At five in the morning Cobbet and his troop arrived, and the king was informed that he must arise and accompany it.
The king, greatly agitated, demanded to see the order for his removal, and to know whither they designed to carry him. Cobbet told him they should take him out of the island, but would not show his order. His nobles, bishops, and officers of his household crowded round in alarm and confusion, but there was no alternative; the king was obliged to take his leave of them, with much sorrow, and was conducted to Hurst Castle, on the opposite coast of Hampshire. "The place," says Warwick, "stood in the sea, for every tide the water surrounded it, and it contained only a few dog-lodgings for soldiers, being chiefly designed for a platform to command the ships." The sight of this dreary place struck a serious terror of assassination into his heart, for he never would believe that, though the levellers talked of it, they would ever dare to bring an anointed king to a public trial. Unfortunately, his own officers had lately been rendering assassination familiar to the public mind, for besides the gallant colonel Rainsborough, they had murdered several other officers of less note, and there was a rumour that they had made a compact to get rid of the king's enemies in this manner. Charles, however, was to learn that the officers of the parliamentary army disdained murder, and dared arraign a king.
The same day that Charles was transferred to Hurst Castle, the parliament negatived the motion that the parliamentary remonstrance should be taken into consideration, and it voted a letter of Fairfax's, demanding pay for the army, or threatening to take it where it could be found, a high and unbeseeming letter. The same day, too, the council of officers addressed a declaration to parliament, assuring it that, seeing that their remonstrance was rejected, they were come to the conclusion that the parliament had betrayed its trust to the people, and that the army would, therefore, appeal from their authority "to the extraordinary judgment of God, and all good people." They called on all faithful members to put their confidence in the army, and protest with them against the conduct of their colleagues. Parliament, on its part, sent to Fairfax an order that the army should not advance any nearer to the capital. But the army was advancing—several regiments from the neighbourhood of York—with the avowal that they were following the directions of Providence.
On the 1st of December the commons met, and as if indifferent to the advance of the army, voted thanks to Hollis, Pierpont, and lord Wenman, for their care and pains in the good treaty at Newport, and proceeded to read twice the report of the commissioners. Hollis, who, with his accused colleagues, was again in the house, moved that the king's answer should be voted satisfactory; but that question was adjourned till the next day, when the house adjourned again till the 4th of December—Fairfax, in defiance of their prohibition, having that day marched into the city, and quartered his troops round Whitehall, York House, St. James's, the Mews, and other places. On the 4th they went into the question of the treaty again, having debated all Friday and Saturday; and again on Monday continued the debate all day until five o'clock the next morning, Tuesday. Such a debate of three days and a night had never yet been known, for no subject of such supreme importance had ever yet come before parliament. Oliver Cromwell arrived in the midst of this memorable debate.
Sir Harry Vane the younger said that the treaty had been carried on for months, and that although the king had appeared to concede much at the last moment, yet they had his own declaration that he did not hold himself bound by promises which he might make, and that it was the conviction of himself, and thousands of others, that the king was not to be trusted. That he, therefore, moved that the house should return at once to its vote of non-addresses, which it ought never to have violated, should cease all negotiations, and settle the commonwealth on another model. Sir Henry Mildmay said the king was no more to be trusted than a caged lion set at liberty. This was the conviction of the whole body of the independents, and no doubt a solid and rational conviction. But the king did not lack defenders: Fiennes, to the astonishment of his party, advocated the adoption of the report, and even Prynne, who had suffered so under it, became a pleader for royalty, that he might chastise independency and the army. On a
