The court assembled on the 20th of January, 1649; about half the members were present, including Cromwell, Bradshaw being the president. The king was placed at the bar, and arraigned as CHARLES STUART, for "High Treason," in levying war against the parliament, and the people therein represented. He replied to the charge, by denying the authority of the court to try him, and was remanded to prison till the 22nd, when he was again brought forward, and the same scene was again enacted, Charles contending that a king cannot be tried by any superior jurisdiction on earth, and that he did not know that a king could be a delinquent, by any law that he ever heard of. The third day was occupied as the preceding ones had been, and Bradshaw ordered the clerk to record the default of the prisoner, in refusing to answer to the crimes alleged against him. The fourth day the court proceeded to hear evidence in support of the charges, in the absence of the king, and on the next day, when Charles demanded to be heard by the lords and commons, in general assembly, the court retired to deliberate for a short space. On the return of the members, the president informed the king, that they were resolved to proceed to judgment. Charles quoted an old maxim, that "we should think long before we resolve on great matters suddenly," and again requested the delay of a day or two, that he might be heard by the lords and commons. It is said that had his request been complied with, he meant to have proposed to abdicate, in favour of his son, upon such terms as should have been agreed upon. Bradshaw answered by inquiring if he had any more to say for himself, before they proceeded to sentence.

Charles.—I have nothing more to say; but I shall desire that this may be entered which I have said.

President. The court, then, sir, hath something to say to you, which I know will be very unacceptable; yet notwithstanding, they are willing and resolved to discharge their duty.

Charles. I will desire only one word before you give sentence, and that is, that you would hear me concerning these great imputations that you have laid to my charge.

President.-Sir, you must give me leave to go on, for I am not far from your sentence, and your trial is now past.

Charles.-But I desire you will hear me a few words to you, for truly, whatever sentence you will put upon me, in respect of these heavy imputations, that I see by your speech you have put upon me; sir, it is very true the

The president interrupted him, repeating that he had not owned them as a court, and therefore they would admit of no further delay, concluding— President.-We are not here jus dare, but jus dicere. We cannot be unmindful of what the scripture tells us; for we may not acquit the guilty. What sentence the law affirms to a traitor, murderer, and a public enemy of the country, that sentence you are now to hear read unto you; and that is the sentence of the court.

The clerk read the sentence, concluding

Clerk.-For all which Treasons and Crimes, this Court doth adjudge, That he, CHARLES STUART, as a Tyrant, Traitor, Murderer, and Public Enemy, shall he put to Death, by Severing of his Head from his Body.

President. The sentence now read and published, is the act, sentence, judgment, and resolution of the whole court.

In witness of which they all stood

VOL. I.

up, and gave their assent.

G

Charles.-Will you hear me a word, sir?

President.-Sir, you are not to be heard after sentence.

Charles.-No, sir!

President. No, sir, by your favour, sir. Guard, withdraw your prisoner. Charles.-I may speak after sentence by your favour, sir-I may speak after sentence only by your favour-the sentence, sir-I say, sir, I do—I am not suffered to speak-expect what justice the people will have

The remainder of these broken words were stifled within him.

On the 30th of January, Charles was led to the block, and died with the courage which belonged to his race. It was a dread action, at which the world stood aghast—a circumstance new in the history of the human race. But from neighbouring friend or foe came no murmur of complaint, or threat of opposition. Hardly a remonstrance was made upon the occasion. The king-killers performed their task with stern hatred, but with the dignity of men, conscious that they were discharging a duty which they owed to their consciences and their country. No signs of a triumph achieved over a power, sustained by the tradition of countless generations, were discovered by them. They had won the cast upon which they had staked life, liberty, and fortune, and exacted the full amount of their winnings: but with the destruction of their enemy, ceased all evidences of hostility. It was reserved for his son to wage war with the dead, and exult in a victory over carcases.

On the day of the king's execution, the parliament forbade the proclamation of any other king. In a few days after, they voted the house of peers to be useless and dangerous, and brought in an act for their abolition. Next day, they resolved that it had been found by experience, and the house did declare, that the office of king in this nation, and to have the power thereof in any single person, was unnecessary, burdensome, and dangerous to the liberty, safety, and public interest of the people of this nation; and therefore ought to be abolished. Forty members were appointed a council of state, under the style of Keepers of the Liberty of England, and with powers to command all the forces of the kingdom, and to execute the majority of the executive functions. Amongst these were eight peers; and, as will be expected, we find the name of Cromwell.

Six months after the death of Charles, Cromwell went over to Ireland, with the title of Lord Governor of that country, with full powers, both civil and military. The sanguinary war in that country had now lasted eight years, with varying success; but at this time the whole of the island, with the exception of Londonderry and Dublin, was in the hands of the royalists. The result of his employment upon this service, fully justified the expectations of the parliament; but the unrelenting nature of his acts, cannot but excite a feeling of mingled regret and indignation. He stormed Drogheda, and put the entire garrison to the sword, together with all the priests found in the place. The policy which dictated his remorseless conduct toward the poor Irish, was doubtless justified to himself, by the thought that a few instances of such severity as might over-awe resistance, would, in fact, prove to be the most merciful course, and that the blood spilt in a single attack, might, after all, be found a less wasteful sacrifice of human life, than would necessarily result from the often-renewed efforts of a protracted contest. Some of the writers on this subject have supposed that religious hatred had its share in causing those atrocities; but it is hardly credible that Cromwell, who, throughout his whole existence, displayed the utmost tenderness for the right of conscience, could

his army was in motion, having previously published a proclamation addressed "To all that are saints and partakers of the faith of God's elect in Scotland." The title of the document may excite a smile, but men in those days attached a real meaning to such things, and the officer who could not discuss a point of doctrine as well as a stratagem of war, would hardly have obtained much influence over his troops. Throughout the whole of his march to Edinburgh, Cromwell treated the inhabitants with the utmost kindness, punishing with the utmost severity any attempt at disorder on the part of his soldiers. His object was to force the enemy to an engagement; but his old comrade in the civil wars, General Leslie, had seen too many proofs of his genius, to trust the fortune of the cause to the hazard of a single battle. Securely entrenched between Edinburgh and Leith, they harassed him by daily attacks, cut off his supplies, and thus hoped, by the combined effect of wasting conflicts, and incessant fatigue, to weary out his forces, and compel him to a disastrous retreat; and, had they but contented themselves with steadily following out the plan which they had thus marked out for themselves, the result must have been most successful; for Cromwell, finding that the very existence of his army was threatened by the want of provisions and the ravages of sickness, commenced his retrograde movement towards Dunbar, where he shipped off his sick and his superfluous stores, and prepared to return into England. In the Scottish camp all was now elation at the prospect of speedy vengeance, and, with a force of twenty-seven thousand men, they broke up from their entrenchments, and followed the remains of the English army, now reduced to barely twelve thousand effective troops. The feelings of Cromwell at this time are thus expressed in a letter written to the Speaker, and conveying tidings of the ensuing battle:

"Their whole army was upon their march after us, and indeed, our driving back in this manner, with the addition of those new regiments added to them, did much heighten their confidence, if not presumption and arrogancy. The enemy that night we perceived getting towards the hills, labouring to make a perfect interposition between us and Berwick, and having in this posture a great advantage, through his better knowledge of the country. He effected this by sending a considerable party to the strait pass at Cofferspeth, where ten men to hinder are better than forty to make their way. And truly this was one exigent to us, wherewith the enemy reproached us with that condition the parliament's army was in, when it made its hard condition with the king in Cornwall. By some reports that have come to us, they had disposed of us and their business in sufficient revenge, and most towards our persons, and had swallowed up the poor interest of England, believing that their army would have marched to London without it being told us, we know not how truly, by a prisoner we took the night before the fight, that their king was very suddenly to come amongst them, with those English they allowed to be about him; but in what manner they were thus lifted up, the Lord was above them. The enemy, lying in the posture before mentioned, having these advantages, we lay very near him, being sensible of our disadvantages, having some weakness of flesh, but yet consolation and support from the Lord himself to our poor weak faith, wherein I believe not a few amongst us shared that because of their numbers, because of their advantages, because of their confidence, because of our weakness, because of our strait, we were in the mount, and in the mount the Lord would be seen, and that he would find out a way of deliverance and salvation for us, and indeed we had our consolation and our hopes."

The sublime courage derived from a devout reliance upon a higher power, which breaks through this epistle, was amply manifested in the engagement which took place upon Cromwell's lucky day, the 3rd of September. Confident in the speedy triumph of his policy, Leslie had cut off all retreat into England, by posting himself upon the hills surrounding the town, and securing all the various passes. Cooped up in this narrow space, with the enemy on the right, the sea on his left, a wasted and hostile nation behind him, and no chance of being permitted to escape into his own country, the ruin of Cromwell seemed certain; and the Scots, unwilling to share the expected triumph with the wicked malignants, sent away the whole of the cavaliers, and declared that they would hew Agag into pieces themselves. On the night of the 2nd, the English general called all his officers together, and gave instructions to his army to "seek the Lord." After prayers, he desired them all to take heart, for God had certainly heard them, and would appear for them. He had detected an error in their position, which encouraged him to attack them; and having on the following morning commenced the assault, the enemy unwisely left their inaccessible heights and ventured down the hill to give him battle. As the morning sun rolled among the vapours, he shouted out "now let God arise, and his enemies shall be scattered," and when the fatal error of his opponents became manifest, and their masses were pouring down the sides of the elevation, the exclamation burst from his lips "God is delivering them into our hands-they are coming down to us." Nor was his prediction unfulfilled. In little more than an hour the Scots were in hopeless rout. Four thousand were killed on the field, and in the pursuit ten thousand taken prisoners; and the whole of the cannon, standards, and baggage, fell into the hands of the victors.

Well might Cromwell term this "the crowning mercy of Dunbar," for such a result was wholly unexpected, and the parliament at once passed from a state almost of despair to a feeling of perfect safety. They showered down honours upon the general, and rewards to the army: and sought in every way to testify their gratitude for such signal services: but the danger had not yet passed away. After taking the castle of Edinburgh, and conducting some minor operations, he fell sick at the place, and continued very ill for four months. In the meantime, Charles had been crowned king of Scotland, a new army had been gathered together to support his claims, and, with a resolution worthy of his race, he dashed into England, hoping to reach London and overturn the government before Cromwell could get up to him. But it was not destined that the good fortune which had attended his indefatigable enemy through life should desert him now. Charles had reached Worcester, when he was overtaken and compelled to fight on the memorable 3rd of September. The contest was maintained in the streets of the city, and, though brief, was attended with great slaughter. The king escaped with great difficulty, and only to encounter after the battle the most imminent danger. The Scots left behind them the whole of their materiel. A fort, in which were fifteen hundred men, held out for awhile, but it was eventually taken, and the garrison put to the sword. All the heads of the royalist party were taken prisoners, including the two generals, and scarcely a man of the whole army ever returned to his native country.

This was the last of Cromwell's fields, the closing triumph of the long list of glorious successes. Hitherto his exertions had been all made for his country; they were now to contribute to his own sole advancement. The par