nothing more to do with the King; on the
conclusion, however, of this second civil war
(which did not last more than six months) they
appointed commissioners to treat with him.
The King, then so far released again as to be
allowed to live in a private house at Newport
in the Isle of Wight, managed his own part
of the negotiation with a sense that was
admired by all who saw him, and gave up, in
the end, all that was asked of him — even
yielding (which he had steadily refused, so
far) to the temporary abolition of the bishops
and the transfer of their church land to
the Crown. Still, with his old fatal vice
upon him, when his best friends joined the
commissioners in beseeching him to yield all
those points as the only means of saving himself
from the army, he was plotting to escape
from the island; he was holding correspondence
with his friends and the Catholics in
Ireland, though declaring that he was not;
and he was writing with his own hand that in
what he yielded, he meant nothing but to get
time to escape.

Matters were at this pass when the army,
resolved to defy the Parliament, marched up
to London. The Parliament, not afraid of
them now, and boldly led by Hollis, voted
that the King's concessions were sufficient
ground for settling the peace of the kingdom.
Upon that, COLONEL RICH and COLONEL
PRIDE went down to the House of Commons
with a regiment of horse soldiers and a regiment
of foot; and Colonel Pride, standing in
the lobby with a list of the members who
were obnoxious to the army in his hand, had
them pointed out to him as they came
through, and took them all into custody.
This proceeding was afterwards called by the
people, for a joke, PRIDE'S PURGE. Cromwell
was in the North, at the head of his
men, at the time, but when he came home,
approved of what had been done.

What with imprisoning some members and
causing others to stay away, the army had
now reduced the House of Commons to some
fifty or so. These soon voted that it was
treason in a king to make war against his
parliament and his people, and sent an ordinance
up to the House of Lords for the King's
being tried as a traitor. The House of Lords
then sixteen in number, to a man rejected it.
Thereupon, the Commons made an ordinance
of their own, that they were the supreme
government of the country, and would bring
the King to trial.

The King had been taken for security to a
place called Hurst Castle: a lonely house on
a rock in the sea, connected with the coast of
Hampshire by a rough road two miles long
at low water. Thence he was ordered to be
removed to Windsor; thence, after being
but rudely used there, and having none but
soldiers to wait upon him at table, he was
brought up to St. James's Palace in London,
and told that his trial was appointed for next
day.

On Saturday, the twentieth of January, one
thousand six hundred and forty-nine, this
memorable trial began. The House of Commons
had settled that one hundred and thirty-five
persons should form the Court, and these
were taken from the House itself, from among
the officers of the army, and from among the
lawyers and citizens. JOHN BRADSHAW,
serjeant-at-law, was appointed president. The
place was Westminster Hall. At the upper
end, in a red velvet chair, sat the president,
with his hat (lined with plates of iron for his
protection) on his head. The rest of the
Court sat on side benches, also wearing their
hats. The King's seat was covered with
velvet, like that of the president, and was
opposite to it. He was brought from St.
James's to Whitehall, and from Whitehall he
came by water, to his trial.

When he came in, he looked round very
steadily on the Court, and on the great
number of spectators, and then sat down:
presently he got up and looked round again.
On the indictment "against Charles Stuart,
for high treason," being read, he smiled
several times, and he denied the authority
of the Court, saying that there could be no
parliament without a House of Lords, and
that he saw no House of Lords there. Also
that the King ought to be there, and that
he saw no King in the King's right place.
Bradshaw replied, that the Court was satisfied
with its authority and that its authority
was God's authority and the kingdom's.
He then adjourned the Court to the following
Monday. On that day, the trial was resumed,
and went on all the week. When
the Saturday came, as the King passed
forward to his place in the Hall, some soldiers
and others cried for "justice!" and execution
on him. That day, too, Bradshaw, like
an angry Sultan, wore a red robe, instead
of the black one he had worn before. The
King was sentenced to death that day. As
he went out, one solitary soldier said, "God
bless you, Sir!" For this, his officer struck
him. The King said he thought the punishment
exceeded the offence. The silver head
of his walking-stick had fallen off while he
leaned upon it, at one time of the trial. The
accident seemed to disturb him, as if he
thought it ominous of the falling of his own
head; and he admitted as much now it was
all over.

Being taken back to Whitehall he sent to
the House of Commons, saying that as the
time of his execution might be nigh, he
wished he might be allowed to see his darling
children. It was granted. On the Monday
he was taken back to St. James's, and his two
children then in England, the PRINCESS ELIZABETH
thirteen years old, and the DUKE OF
GLOUCESTER nine years old, were brought to
take leave of him, from Sion House, near
Brentford. It was a sad and touching scene,
when he kissed and fondled these poor
children, and made a little present of two