not for mine, but for the public's sake, to weigh this business well before this gap be made so wide, as there will hardly be power left again to shut it." 1

So admirably did he vindicate himself upon the matters of fact, and so ably were the points of law argued for him by his counsel, Hearne and Hale, (afterwards Sir Matthew,) that it was found impossible, even by the handful of Peers who sat in judgement on him, obsequious as they were to a tyrannical House of Commons, and deep as they were in infamy, to pronounce him guilty. But the dominant faction resolved, as in Strafford's case, that when law could not be stretched to their purpose, their own authority should stand in its place; and they brought in a Bill of Attainder, which was supported less strongly by argument than by a mob of petitioners calling out for his blood; the people were actually exhorted to set their hands to this petition in the Churches; and the civil authorities made no attempt to check a proceeding as illegal as it was scandalous and inhuman.2 Laud was admitted to speak in his own behalf. The substance of the proceedings in the Upper House having been recapitulated against him by Mr. Brown, the clerk of that house, with less asperity than the other prosecutors had used, the Archbishop thanked him for his humanity. "This worthy gentleman," said he, "hath pressed all things as hardly against me as the cause can any way bear; that was his duty to this honourable House, and it troubles me not. But his carriage and expressions were civil towards me, in this my great affliction; and for this I render him humble and hearty thanks, having from other hands pledged my Saviour in gall and vinegar, and drunk up the cup of the scornings of the people to the very bottom. I shall follow every thing in the same order he proceeded in; so far forth at least as an old slow hand could take them, a heavy heart observe them, and an old decayed memory retain them."3 He did this with clearness and precision; and reminded the Commons that the evidence, as it was laid before them, was but upon the collection and judgement of one man, whose opinion might differ much from that of the judges themselves, and who having been absent on some of the days, could, of course, in that part of the proceedings, report only what Ibid. p. 431, 432. 3 Ibid. p. 434.

1 Hist. of his Troubles, p. 419.

others had reported to him, what came from him being, at best, a report of evidence, and not upon oath. No person had ever given a verdict upon such grounds; and it was for that House, as the great preserver of the laws and liberties of the subject, to consider how far it might trench upon these, in future consequences, if these great boundaries were laid loose and open. He desired that they would take into consideration his calling, his age, his former life, his fall, his long and strict imprisonment. In my prosperity, (said the venerable sufferer,) I bless God for it, I was never puffed up into vanity, whatever the world may think of me. And in these last full four years' durance, I thank the same God, gravem fortunam constanter tuli, I have with decent constancy borne the weight of a pressing fortune: and I hope God will strengthen me unto, and in, the end of it. Mr. Speaker, (he continued,) I am very aged, considering the turmoils of my life, and I daily find in myself more decays than I make show of; and the period of my life, in the course of nature, cannot be far off. It cannot but be a great grief unto me to stand at these years thus charged before ye. Yet give me leave

to

say thus much without offence; whatsoever errors or faults I may have committed by the way, in any my proceedings through human infirmity, (as who is he that hath not offended, and broken some statute-laws too, by ignorance, or misapprehension, or forgetfulness, at some sudden time of action?) yet, if God bless me with so much memory, I will die with these words in my mouth, that I never intended, much less endeavoured, the subversion of the laws of the kingdom; nor the bringing in of Popish superstition upon the true Protestant religion, established by law in this kingdom."

The strength with which he defended himself was felt and acknowledged even by many of the members; but truth and eloquence were as little regarded in those calamitous days as law, justice, and humanity, and without hearing counsel in his behalf, the Commons voted him guilty of high treason. There was yet honour enough among the few Lords who adhered to the parliament through all its courses, to hesitate at passing a bill so flagrantly iniquitous; but the Earl of Pembroke, one of the meanest wretches that ever brought infamy upon an old and Hist. of his Troubles, p. 439.

honourable name for the sake of currying favour with a ruling faction, called the Primate rascal and villain, and told the Lords that if they demurred, the citizens would come down and call for justice, as they had done in Strafford's case. Mr. Stroud also, who came up with a message from the Commons to quicken the Upper House, let fall the same threat. And when they voted that all papers relating to the trial should be laid before them, the Commons, to intimidate them, prepared an ordinance to displace them from all command in the army, and by their old agents procured a petition to be got up for the punishment of delinquents, and for bringing the Lords to vote and sit with the Commons, to the end that public business might be more quickly despatched. At length, when only fourteen Lords were present, they voted him guilty of endeavouring to subvert the laws and the protestant religion, and of being an enemy to Parliaments; but left it for the judges to pronounce whether this were treason; and the judges, to their lasting honour, unanimously declared that nothing which was charged against the Archbishop was treason, by any known and established law of the land. In the face of this determination, the Commons persisted in their murderous purpose: the Peers, who shrunk from a more active participation in the crime, shrunk from their duty also, absenting themselves from the House, and six were found thorough-paced enough to concur in the sentence of condemnation.

Such an issue had been foreseen, and a pardon, under the Great Seal, had been secretly conveyed to him from the King, which, if his persecutors proceeded with any regard to law, they must needs allow; if it failed, as there was too much reason to apprehend, it would at least manifest the King's justice and affection to an old faithful servant, whom he so much esteemed. This pardon he produced, when he was called upon to say why sentence of death should not be passed upon him. It was read in both Houses; but, as he expected, they, in their usurped and tyrannical authority, affirmed that the King could not pardon a judgement of Parliament. Being thus assured of death," he neither entertained his sentence with a stoical apathy, nor wailed his fate with weak and womanish lamentations, (to which extremes most men are carried in this case,) but heard it with so Hist. of his Troubles, p. 441.

2 Ibid.

even and so smooth a temper, as showed he neither was ashamed to live, nor afraid to die." Up to that point he had composed the history of his troubles and trial, that when justice one day should be rendered to his memory, nothing might be wanting to his full and complete vindication. That task he now broke off, and prepared for death. He petitioned his iniquitous judges for two favours; the one, that three of his Chaplains might be with him before, and at his death; the other, that he might be beheaded, and not undergo the ignominious and barbarous sentence for treason in its full rigour. The Commons,' with a brutality worthy of their whole proceedings in this case, denied both: they only allowed that one of the Chaplains, whom he named, might attend, with two of their own divines, appointing two of the most notorious incendiaries. ... The Sheriffs attended in person, to know the manner of his execution, (as if even the Sheriffs felt some shame, if not some compunction, at bearing a part in this flagrant inhumanity,) and for an answer they were2 referred to the warrant, that he should be hanged, drawn, and quartered. He petitioned the Lords a second time upon this point, on the grounds of his profession, his rank, and the dignity which he had held, as having sat in their House, and been of the King's Privy Council. The Lords sent it to the Lower House, signifying that for these reasons they had assented to it; and the Commons were then pleased to consent that he should only be beheaded; but this was not conceded by them till after3 some debate.

The night before his execution he ate a moderate supper, to refresh his spirits, and then going to bed, slept soundly till the hour when his attendants were appointed to await his rising. When he was brought out of the Tower, the spectators "were so divided betwixt bemoaners and insulters, it was hard to decide which of them made up the most part." He proceeded with a cheerful countenance, and an unruffled mind, though Hugh Peters, and Sir John Clotworthy, (a man worthy of such an associate,) were all the way assailing him with inhuman interrogatories. These he took calmly, and "though some rude and uncivil people reviled him as he passed along with opprobrious language, as loth to let him go to the grave in peace, yet it never

Whitelock, p. 123.

2 Ibid.

3 Ibid.

discomposed his thoughts, nor disturbed his patience. For he had profited so well in the school of Christ, that when he was reviled he reviled not again, but committed his cause to Him that judgeth righteously. And as he did not fear the frowns, so neither did he court the applause, of the vulgar herd, and therefore chose to read what he had to speak unto the people, rather than to affect the ostentation either of memory or wit in that dreadful agony."

"Good people," said he, "this is an uncomfortable time to preach, yet I shall begin with a text of Scripture (Hebrews xii. 1, 2). Let us run with patience the race which is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

I

"I have been long in my race, and how I have looked to Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith, He best knows. am now come to the end, and here I find the cross, a death of shame; but the shame must be despised, . . . or no coming to the right hand of God! I am going apace, as you see, toward the Red Sea, and my feet are now upon the very brink of it: an argument, I hope, that God is bringing me into the land of promise, for that was the way through which he led his people. . . . But before they came to it he instituted a passover with them, ... a lamb it was, but it must be eaten with sour herbs. I shall obey, and labour to digest the sour herbs as well as the lamb. And I shall remember it is the Lord's Passover; I shall not think of the herbs, nor be angry with the hand that gathereth them, but look up only unto Him who instituted that, and governs these. For men can have no more power over me than what is given them from above. I am not in love with this passage through the Red Sea, for I have the weakness and infirmities of flesh and blood plentifully in me, and I have prayed with my Saviour ut transiret calix iste, that this cup of Red Wine might pass from me. But if not, ... God's will, not man's, be done! And I shall most willingly drink of this cup, as deep as he pleases, and enter into this sea, yea, and pass through it, in the way that he shall lead me."

Thus he began his dying address, in that state of calm but