England
The Stuarts
Queen Elizabeth died 24 March 1603. King James of Scotland was the designated heir, and he left Edinburgh almost at once (April). He was greeted by cheering crowds all the way to London. People had been very afraid of a succession dispute and civil war. Instead, they got a king who seemed to be intelligent, capable, and quite willing to respect English traditions.
He himself was no imposing figure. He a lazy eye that rolled so disconcertingly that sometimes people thought he was having a seizure, and he slurred his words so badly that some had trouble even understanding him. He was uninterested in hunting or warfare. It was not yet manifest, but he would prove to be a mediocre politician at best, and a poor judge of character. He was well educated and would have made a fine scholar. "The wisest fool in Christendom" was the judgment of a contemporary, and that judgment has stuck.
He still might have made an acceptable king, in other times. Unfortunately James, as he enjoyed festivals and entertainments on his six-month journey south from Scotland, was riding straight into a quagmire that would call for exactly those qualities he lacked. Many issues had been smoothed over, rather than solved, by Elizabeth's political skill. Some issues Parliament had deliberately downplayed, pending a new monarch. Parliament expected James to address these issues. Others, such as basic constitutional issues, were as yet but dimly perceived.
From the start, James managed to disappoint just about everyone. Soon, he not only disappointed but aroused suspicion and fear. He neglected the Commons in favor of the House of Lords. He never missed a chance to issue dictates "as an absolute ruler" when he could have asked or persuaded. With almost no one from the Royal Council in the House of Commons, that body quite naturally developed into a haven for dissent and opposition. James felt it was beneath his dignity to have to play politics in Commons; he should be able to declare and they should obey.
Lacking effective leadership from the throne, the Commons came to operate by committees, wherein real influence lay and from which royalists were all but excluded. A mechanism for faction, for parties, was developing. An example of the creativity of the parliamentarians can be seen in the "Committee of the Whole House". This committee was, as the name implies, made up of the entire House of Commons. It doesn't sound much like a committee, does it? It had a singular benefit, however: it could meet simply by the Speaker of the House stepping down from his chair. By doing so, what was said did not enter into the official record, and members were free to speak their mind. In effect, they could operate unofficially, do their negotiations and deals, then reconvene to vote on the finished product.
Parliament came quickly to see James as a would-be tyrant intent on trampling traditional English rights. James saw Parliament as petty and contentious. Both parties viewed themselves as the true champion, and the other as the true enemy, of the national interest.
Finances
Kings everywhere were strapped for cash, throughout the early modern era, and attempts to raise money formed the basis for many a conflict between ruler and subject. Elizabeth, naturally as well as deliberately thrifty, had nevertheless left the Crown in debt. James was not at all thrifty and was the last man to be able to recover the debt. In his view, a monarch's job was to rule. The job of Parliament and people was to provide him with the necessary funds. It was certainly not their place to debate what was necessary, or to attempt to dictate how the funds were spent.
James steadily increased royal debt utnil, by 1610, it was a serious problem. He had made Robert Cecil the Earl of Salisbury at the beginning of his reign. Now he made him Lord Treasurer and charged him with solving the Crown's financial difficulties.
The principles of debt management are basic and eternal. The current indebtedness must be liquidated, and the gap between income and spending must close lest new debt be incurred. To do that, either income must increase or spending must decrease. There was no chance James would do the latter, nor could he have if he'd wanted to. Parliament would agree to a permanent increase in royal income only if certain taxes (wards, purveyeance, import taxes) were repealed. Both sides agreed in principal but stuck at who should go first, for neither side trusted the other by this point. Of course, this merely confirmed on both sides that the other was mule-headed.
The Parliamentary tradition was to stake out its ground and then to negotiate a compromise. That's how it had worked under the Tudors, or so the Commons chose to believe. To James, this smacked of fish-market haggling, far below the dignity of a monarch answerable only to God. Fed up, James dissolved Parliament in 1611 with no resolution on his finances. Another way would have to be found.
Another was found, of course, but it was only a stopgap, not a solution. Salisbury died in 1611; in his place arose a young man by the name of George Villiers, who quickly became the king's favorite. The king knighted him in 1616, made him an earl in 1617, a marquis in 1618, and Duke of Buckingham in 1623. Anyone with the king's ear arouses jealousy; anyone who rises quickly arouses jealousy; those arrogant in power arouse resentment. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, had all those attributes.
The approach to the financial problem was the sale of offices, an approach being taken by Louis XIII in France at the same time. This generated quick cash, but it led to a devaluation in the titles themselves. For example, the title of baronet was invented in 1611 and went for £1000. By 1622 the same title could be had for £250. This naturally did not endear the Crown to those who had paid full price.
Religion
In religion the first big event was Hampton Court. A meeting was held there in January 1604 as the result of the Millenary Petition submitted to James by the Puritans. This group, still not very well organized, had suffered neglect and occasional persecution under Elizabeth, who didn't much care for their brand of religion. They looked to James, coming as he did from the firmly Calvinist Scotland, as a rectifier of wrongs. In response to the Petition, James called together a conference at Hampton Court and let the Puritans and Anglicans debate the issues.
A split ensued, with the radical Puritans insisting that no practice should be followed that was not explicitly in the Bible, and the moderate Puritans arguing that no practice should be abolished that was not expressly forbidden in the Bible. James himself attended and took the more conservative position. The king did recommend some reforms, but when the committee charged with implementation of reforms delayed and evaded, the king did not force the matter, leading the Puritans to conclude that Hampton Court had been a sham and the king a hypocrite.
One committee did its work, however. It had been charged with producing an authoritative English translation of the Bible, to replace earlier translations and to be officially approved. This committee is the source of the King James Bible.
It was the peculiar genius of James to be able to alienate pretty much every side of an issue. He had begun by being tolerant of Catholics (his wife, Anne, was Catholic). English Protestant leaders were alarmed by what seemed to be a sudden resurgence of Catholicism, especially at court. They urged James to enforce the law in this matter. With typical arbitrariness, he did so in February 1605. This reversal is what drove a band of radical Catholics to hatch the Gunpowder Plot of November 1605. It was discovered and an Italian named Guy Fawkes was arrested and executed (the origin of Guy Fawkes Day). For himself, James little altered his tolerance of Catholics, but the Protestants found their worst fears confirmed. Catholics were actively conniving at the destruction of the country and would stop at no barbarism to reinstate "popery" in England. The spectre of a "popish plot" haunted English politics and the popular mind for generations.
Foreign Policy
James bungled in foreign affairs as well. He had a daughter married to Frederick of the Palatinate, then failed to support him in the Bohemian Revolt. This made him appear unsympathetic to the Protestant cause. Worse yet, James was pursuing a Spanish wife for his son Charles. For James, both decisions were borne of a deep desire to keep England at peace, but for those driven by ideology, more sinister forces seemed to be at work. And James, being who he was, was unable and uninterested in changing that impression.
Relations with the Nobility
Even the loyal Anglican nobility found reasons to distrust James. The quick rise of Buckingham was a sore point, but long before that James had given offense. For example, he jailed Sir Walter Raleigh in 1603, released him, sent him off to the New World, then re-arrested him and had him executed in 1613.
The Country Party
During James' reign a political party began to take shape. It was not yet a formal party and was never very clearly delineated, but certain common causes made it an increasingly clear voting block in Commons. The "Country Party" was not really rural--was, in fact, highly urban. It was puritan in religion, anti-Spanish in foreign affairs, not necessarily anti-Crown but was certainly anti-Buckingham. And it insisted on the importance of the House of Commons in the governing of the nation.
James' Last Years
There was a short Parliament in 1621 that sounded an ominous note. Commons voted two subsidies, but also impeached the Lord Chancellor and got him banned from office for life. The charge was bribery but that wasn't the point. Parliament had not impeached since the 1450s. That it did so now was a signal, clear to anyone, that it was willing and able to strike at members of the royal court.
The other significant event was an increasingly sharp series of exchanges between King and Commons over foreign policy. Commons had openly recommended against the Spanlish alliance. James reminded Commons, correctly, that it had no business discussing foreign affairs unless directed to do so by the king, but he phrased his statements in such broad terms that he seemd to imply their right to discuss anything at all depended on him. This led to a reply from Commons and back and forth they went. Nothing much came of this except further alienation on both sides, but it was by such steps that the House of Commons was coming to define its constitutional role as keeper of the nation.
James couldn't even manage the Spanish match well. In 1623 Prince Charles and the Duke of Buckingham sailed to Spain (at enormous expense) to finalize negotiations. They encountered a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Spain was obviously not going to support the return of the Palatinate to Frederick, a serious insult to Charles' sister. The Spanish demanded, and James agreed, abolition of the anti-Catholic laws in England. In September the two men returned empty-handed and were greeted with celebrations. James had spent a fortune, angered everyone, and achieved nothing. Charles and Buckingham, moreover, now despised the Spanish.
James aged prematurely and became increasingly feeble in the 1620s. He genuinely desired peace and was prepared to undergo many compromises (with other monarchs!) to achieve it, yet at the end of his life he was maneuvered into war by those whom he most loved--Charles and Buckingham. James died in March 1625.
Charles I
Charles Stuart was as sincere and as inflexible as his father. Where James was given to orations, though, Charles spoke little and had difficulty with public speaking. Even as a young man he impressed people with his seriousness and dignity of bearing. He was, however, no better at politics or at finance, and was every bit as committed to absolutist ideas. He was the wrong man for the times.
Relations between Parliament and Crown began badly and never got better. Parliament had met in 1624 and voted a war subsidy, though a much smaller one than what had been requested. It met again in 1625, voted a modest amount, and proceeded at once to grievances. Buckingham, politically clueless, had sent no royal Councillors to the Commons, so there was no one to speak with the new king's voice. Parliament granted one particular form of income (poundage and tonnage) to Charles for one year only. The tradition had been to grant this for life. Charles was insulted and promptly dissolved Parliament.
1625 was the year of Buckingham's expedition to Cadiz. It was an expensive failure, and it cost him his support in England. When Parliament met again, the outraged members delivered scathing criticisms of the prosecution of the war. Charles defended Buckingham, complained he'd not been funded properly, and told Parliament to mind its own business. Parliament replied by starting impeachment proceedings against Buckingham. Charles played his trump card and again dissolved Parliament.
The new king now showed he was willing to go further than his father in the exercise of royal authority. He ordered a forced loan, in the amount that would have been granted by Parliament, with jail and seizure of goods for those who resisted. He ordered the coastal towns to build ships at their own expense, and that a new army be raised and billeted on the citizenry until it could embark. Buckingham would lead the expedition himself, not to Spain this time but to La Rochelle, where he would rescue the Huguenots besieged by the armies of Louis XIII.
This expedition was also a complete failure. Both expeditions had been marked by coercion, corruption, and blunders. After both, Charles defended the duke. And once again, Parliament met afterwards, determined that much was wrong in the kingdom that only it could repair. Under the leadership of Thomas Wentworth, who had suffered imprisonment for refusing to pay the forced loan, Commons drafted the Petition of Right, usually regarded as one of the keystones of the British constitution and a first step on the road toward civil war.
Parliament presented its Petition, voted Charles new money, and was zeroing in on Buckingham when, in June 1628, he . . . you guessed it, he dissolved Parliament. Then, in July, Buckingham was assassinated. When Parliament met again, Charles thought he might get more cooperation, but fiscal matters still loomed, and Parliament was still angry. It had voted only one year of Poundage and Tonnage, for example, but Charles had gone right on collecting it. Besides, Commons wanted to talk religion and charles would have none of that. Once again he dissolved Parliament, in March 1629.
This time, though, the House of Commons didn't want to be dismissed. By tradition, the Speaker of the House rose and gave the king's order, but on this occasion two members (Valentine and Holles) grabbed him by the shoulders and prevented him from standing. With the Speaker physically restrained, Eliot gave a fiery speech against Catholic influence at court. He then presented three resolutions. The clerk of the House refused to read them, so Holles (one of the two restraining the Speaker) read them instead. The House passed all three and only then was the Speaker released.
From a distance this all looks faintly comic and a bit silly, but the acts were important as symbols. However modest, it was a use of violence in place of procedure, and it set a precedent for further violence. It demonstrates both how passionately some felt about the issues, and shows that the radicals were losing faith in the system.
Valentine, Holles and Eliot all fled London. Holles managed to get out of the country, but the other two were captured and imprisoned. Eliot died in prison in 1632. Valentine was finally released in January 1640. Charles never recalled this Parliament. He felt betrayed and regarded Commons as a positive danger to the realm.
Archbishop Laud
Leader of the English Arminians, who felt the Puritans were too sterile, too dogmatic. He was a firm Anglican, as anti-popish as anyone, but he saw value in ceremony and symbols, so of course the Puritans condemned him as a supporter of Rome. Laud saw the shortcomings of the Anglican Church clearly and earnestly sought reform. He became chaplain to Buckingham, but King James thought the man a "restless spirit" and did not trust him fully. He rose to success only under Charles, who made him Privy Councillor in 1627, bishop of London in 1628, and archbishop of Canterbury in 1633.
Laud worked hard to raise the standards of the clergy, from simple village priests to the upper echelons of the Church. One consequence of the overall improvement of the clergy was that this threatened the social position of the genry and nobility, who regarded the clergy as their inferiors. Under Laud, these found themselves in law courts and even hauled before the Privy Council, having to defend themselves against some low-born clergyman. Laud had few friends in the privileged classes.
He had no friends at all among the Puritans. When he issued orders that the communion table should be placed behind a rail and fence, so dogs could not get at it, or that priests must wear the surplice, the Puritans saw only a blatant reintroduction of Romish practices. For his part, Laud complained that Puritans thought nothing of tossing their hats on the communion table and behaved in church with no more propriety than a tinker in a tavern. It was under Laud's "tyranny" that Puritans fled to Holland and America.
Laud also mingled Church and State in ways that managed to anger just about everyone. Investigations into enclosures sometimes resulted in fines: those fines went toward rebuilding St Paul's Cathedral in London. Laud sat on the Court of Star Chamber. When Puritans resisted his reforms they were brought before this court, which gave the Star Chamber the connotations of secrecy and tyranny it still bears, along with a reputation for harsh sentences.
Wentworth and "Thorough"
Thomas Wentworth began his career as a leader of Commons, but he decided in 1629 to enter royal service and soon rose to a position of prominence. He and Laud were the two closest to Charles in the 1630s.
Over and over with the early Stuarts we see policies adopted that seem in the abstract to be perfectly sensible, but which in practice turned out to be disastrous. So it was with the policy of "Thorough," which was no more than the rigorous enforcement of laws already on the books. In the abstract it seems ingenious. Charles had determined to rule without Parliament and Parliament was needed to make new laws. The king could have tried ruling by prerogative, but that was guaranteed to arouse opposition from towns and nobles alike. Laud and Wentworth decided simply to be "thorough" in the application of the old laws.
The trouble was, nothing had been done thoroughly in England for at least a century. The entire political life of the country was founded on exceptions, omissions, corruptions, and oversights. Law, finance and politics alike functioned as a complex machinery of influence, pressure, bribes and privilege. "Thorough" was legally correct but politically foolish. In any case, Wentworth lacked the resources and administrative machinery needed to be truly thorough, so his activities tended to be more arbitrary than just.
The Slide toward Civil War
Charles followed his father in desiring peace and so refused to give aid and support to the Protestant cause on the Continent. In fact, he had Spaniards at court and even accepted a papal representative. Charles was always a firm Anglican, but he had to have peace and that meant diplomacy and compromise. To the Puritans, there could be no compromise with the forces of evil, and Charles' efforts at diplomacy appeared to be but another sign of the influence of Rome at court.
It's ironic, therefore, that Charles himself blundered into war, and thereby into civil war and his own ruin. The spark was the introduction, in October 1636, of a new service-book for Scotland. Charles (under Laud's influence) merely wished to bring a greater degree of uniformity between the Scottish and English churches, sincerely believing the strongly Calvinist tone of the Scottish rites were in need of correction. Good work had been done in England and Ireland, and it was time the Scots were brought along as well.
The move provoked a violent reaction. Not only were the Scots gravely offended by the new service, which they decried as a revival of the mass, they feared this was but a first step and that confiscation of impropriated lands, royal rule without Parliament, and other English tyrannies would follow. The Scots drafted a National Covenant and swore to defend kirk and nation.
Charles was forced to suspend observation of the new service book, but he resolved to impose it by force if need be. He was dismayed, however, to find that there was no English army worth the name. While England had never had a standing army, the Crown had long kept stores of weapons, munitions and supplies in storehouses around the country, to supply the men raised in a royal levy. These had been neglected and pilfered over the decades of peace. When he tried to raise an army, in late 1638, Charles found it so poorly equipped he couldn't risk battle. He came to a temporary agreement with the Scots in June 1639, letting the matter refer to the Scottish Parliament.
Charles now recalled Thomas Wentworth from Ireland, where he had been successful in establishing royal authority. Wentworth advised calling all three Parliaments, intending that Ireland and England could overmaster the recalcitrant Scots. Ireland came through well enough, voting a subsidy without contest. The English Parliament, though, meeting in April 1640, was quite another matter.
The Short Parliament and Etcetera
John Pym stood forward as the leader of the Country party, and he insisted that Parliament's grievances be aired first, before talk of money. Charles would have none of that. It was insulting to his royal position and to Parliamentary tradition, and besides he feared the Country was in touch with the Scots and would bring the presbyterian case into the English Parliament. After only three weeks, Charles sent the assembly home, though he kept the clerical body, the Convocation.
This assembly voted a modest subsidy (it commanded few fiscal resources) then proceeded to matters of church reform. It passed the so-called "Etcetera Oath," which was an oath to maintain the government of the Church; that is, its form of organization, order of service, and formal regulation. The persons who were to swear this oath were "archbishops, bishops, deans and archdeacons, etc." That "et cetera" part alarmed the Puritans, who saw in it a national loyalty oath.
The Scots were in no temper to await whatever Charles might have planned. They invaded the North Counties in the summer of 1640. This forced the king to respond but again he found his army unfit for duty. On the advice of his great barons, he again sued for peace and again summoned Parliament. He was hip-deep in war and had to have cash.
The Long Parliament
Parliament met again on 3 November 1640. Because it never completely dissolved for a decade, it's known as the Long Parliament. In truth, it began as a Parliament but slowly developed into something more like a revolutionary council. It was the only Parliament to execute its own king.
In the first week, led by John Pym, Commons had impeached both Wentworth and Laud. Other members of the government fled rather that risk arrest. Commons had strong support in the City of London and so could risk strong-arm tactics. Pym was unable to get Wentworth convicted, for he really hadn't done anything illegal. His crime was merely helping Charles rule without Parliament for eleven years.
Determined to bring down Wentworth, Pym introduced a Bill of Attainder, which declared a man guilty and confiscated his estates without trial. Getting such a bill to pass was considered sufficient judgment. Commons easily passed the bill and it went to the House of Lords, which also had to pass it.
During these winter weeks, the nation was in turmoil. Charles could see the situation was in danger of getting out of hand, and he made gestures of reconciliation. He released old political prisoners. He brought moderates into his government. But the radicals were not mollified by these moves, which they regarded as insincere and temporary. They wanted more. Some were even calling for a dismantling of the episcopacy--this was the presbyterian model followed in Scotland.
London was in great turmoil, with certain districts openly favoring the Country party, willing to turn out in numbers to cow the House of Lords into condemning Wentworth. Charles defended his favorite before the House, but he had no skill at speaking. All he could manage was a blunt statement that he would never consent to the Bill. This may have allowed the Lords to think that they could pass the Bill, keeping themselves safe from the mob, and that Charles would veto it, keeping Wentworth safe. So they passed it.
But Charles could no longer protect Wentworth. Parliament had condemned him and even Wentworth himself saw his fate was inescapable. He himself advised the king not to try anything foolish. Wentworth was executed on 11 May 1641. There followed a flurry of bills, abolishing the Star Chamber, the Court of High Commission, and Ship Money. One of the more significant bills forbid the king to dissolve Parliament without its consent.
Seeing that he'd lost control, Charles ordered Parliament dissolved and went north to face the Scots. Much of the House of Lords, and some from Commons, went with him. The rest refused to be dissolved and continued meeting at Westminster. There were now two governments in England--one in York and one in London.
The Civil War
With two positions staked out so clearly, it was only natural that other factions should take shape. Moderates held that the king must be supported, had to be trusted with an army, or else England might lose the very foundation of any sort of government. Pym, to make the case against Charles, drew up the Grand Remonstrance. He did not want to abolish monarchy, but he did see Charles Stuart as a dangerous man. He wanted to drive forward so far that no king could ever undo the reforms now being passed by Parliament. The fundamental problem was that so long as the king was absolute in theory, he could unmake anything; the constitution, true religion, and the nation itself could never be safe.
The Grand Remonstrance passed by eleven votes (out of three hundred and seven members). The leader of the moderates, Edward Hyde, at once went over to the king--not because he'd turned royalist but because he could not countenance where Pym and the others were heading.
The radicals gained control of the government of London in the elections of November 1641. Then, in January, Charles struck. He had five members of Commons denounced as traitors: John Pym, John Hampden, Arthur Haslerig, Denzil Holles, and William Strode. With a bodyguard, Charles entered the House of Commons on 4 January, but Pym and the others had been tipped off and were gone, though they were still hiding in the city. Charles drove by carriage into the city itself to demand that the city council release the fugitives. The city council refused. On his return to Whitehall, angry Londoners crowded around the carriage. It was obvious that Charles was among enemies.
One of the fears of the radicals was of the Queen and her retinue. She was French and she was Catholic. Sentiment against her ran so high that in February Charles sent her off to Holland for safety. Meanwhile he tried more concessions. He approved the measure that would prohibit bishops from the House of Lords, and signalled willingness to let Parliament reform the Church. Charles, advised by Hyde, was striving for compromise, but no compromise could be accepted so long as the king could undo everything at a later date.
The depth of suspicions can be seen in the matter of control of the army. The general issue had slowly narrowed down to who should control the commanders, the Lords-Lieutenant. Charles finally agreed to this, on the condition that a time limit be set on the practice. He didn't want it becoming permanent. Commons rejected this. Instead, Commons drafted the Militia Bill, which claimed the right to raise an army on behalf of the king. These were unprecedented and dangerous waters. In effect, one side in the dispute had just declared its intent to arm itself. As a follow-on, Parliament sent Nineteen Propositions to Charles, who had gone north again and was at York. The Propositions arrived in June 1642. They stated nothing new, but they had the form and tone of an ultimatum.
Charles responded by ordering the counties to ignore the Parliamentary levy and to raise troops for the king instead. He had an army by 22 August, having had no difficulty finding followers. Most people still chose to believe the king was not at fault but had been misled by his advisers, especially by Black Tom Wentworth.
First Battles
Charles marched on London at once. It was the center of the rebellion and if it could be taken the whole affair could be settled by winter. The parliamentary side knew this, of course, and had an army ready, commanded by the Earl of Essex. It's a nice irony that the man leading the royalist cavalry was Rupert, son of Frederick of the Palatinate and his wife Elizabeth, who was Charles' sister. This was the same Frederick whom James had so signally failed to help in 1620-21. Rupert was young and dashing and was very much admired among the royalists.
The two armies met at Edgehill. Rupert's cavalry charge was a complete success. His forces rode the enemy down, then galloped off in pursuit of loot and captives, taking themselves out of the battle for a time. On the other wing, the parliamentary cavalry broke through but stayed on the attack, capturing the king's standard. The infantry fought to a standstill. Rupert's force eventually returned, but were too exhausted to make a difference. Night fell, and both sides withdrew.
The first battle of the war was indecisive on the battlefield, but that didn't matter. What mattered was who got to London first, and here Charles blundered. He may have been a little shocked by the fighting, which was much bloodier than anything he'd seen before, and he might have feared Essex would ambush him. At any rate, he moved too slowly and Parliament's forces reached London first. Charles moved up close to the city, saw it was well guarded, and withdrew to Oxford.
Roundheads and Cavaliers
A word of explanation about these terms. The parliamentary faction was called Roundheads, a nickname derived from the round helmets they wore. The Cavaliers were the royalist faction, because the king had the stronger support among the nobility and they comprised the majority of the cavalry. That's a nice bit of irony, for the great nemesis of the Cavaliers was Oliver Cromwell, who rose to prominence as a cavalry commander.
Cavalier Victories
All was not well in London. Pym had predicted victory that same year, and this obviously wasn't victory. The city could not be blockaded, but Charles could and did so disrupt trade that food was scarce and fuel scarcer. The rebels had little over half of Commons and about a fifth of the House of Lords, so their claim to speak for the entire nation was already stretched thin.
They offered terms to Charles in January 1643, but he turned them down flat. His army was growing and he believed he could force a complete capitulation. He was not far wrong. There were deep splits within Parliament, with the most radical already calling for abolition of the monarchy itself. The Dutch had done it, after all, and seemed to be prospering for it. Others in Parliament were already calling for peace. Pym needed every scrap of support and spent much time cajoling and dealing.
Both sides set about seizing the estates of the others, wherever they could. Neither side was broke yet, but both sides knew well how hideously expensive armies were. Charles had the richer supporters, but Parliament had a better income because the Earl of Warwick declared for them and he commanded the navy, so Parliament had income from English trade.
As spring 1643 arrived, Charles launched a three-pronged assault on Roundhead positions. The Earl of Newcastle won a resounding victory at Adwalton Moor in the north and went on to besiege the major port of Hull. Waller's army was destroyed at the Battle of Roundway Down (Devizes). In July, Bristol fell to Lord Rupert.
The situation for Parliament was serious. Pym persuaded Parliament to entrust Essex with another army, to levy a tax on wine and sugar, and to make an alliance with Scotland.
Essex managed something like a victory. Charles had besieged Gloucester and Essex marches to its rescue. Charles drew off, then circled round and got between Essex and London. There was a battle at Newbury which was fought to a draw, but Essex inflicted damaged and managed to get his army back to London (September 1643). It was at least claimed as a victory for the Roundheads.
That was it for the year. Henry Pym died in December and Parliament lost one of its principal firebrands. Others were waiting to step up, however.
The king withdrew to Oxford. That winter, on Hyde's advice, he called for parliamentary elections, and this royalist Parliament met in 1644 with about a hundred in Commons and thirty in Lords. Charles was trying to undercut the authority of the Parliament by setting up his own.
The other Parliament, still sitting at Westminster, made its Scottish treaty. As part of the deal they subscribed to the Solemn League and Covenant, which was a statement of a presbyterian form of church organization. From this point we can note another split among the Puritans, for not all of them favored an extreme form of congregationalism.
The Scots invaded in January 1644, changing the complexion of the war. With twenty thousand men they were able to drive Newscastle off from Hull. Another Roundhead force was able to dash across Yorkshire and capture a royalist army that was being brought over from Ireland. These, couple with other losses, forced Charles to do all he could to rescue Newcastle's army, which was bottled up at York. He sent Rupert north with about fifteen thousand men.
Rupert was outnumbered, but with some brilliant maneuvering he slipped past his enemies and got into York unscathed. Though his own and Newcastle's men were tired, he insisted on attacking without delay.
The Battle of Marston Moor was fought 2 July 1644. Commanding the cavalry for the Roundheads was Oliver Cromwell. Lord Rupert was opposite him. Newcastle and his infantry faced the Scots, while cavalry also made up the other wing--Lord Goring for the Cavaliers, Lord Fairfax for the Roundheads. It was late in the day by the time everyone was in position. Rupert decided nothing would be done that day and allowed his men to stand down. Cromwell was of a different opinion. He launched an attack.
At about the same time, Goring attacked and overran Fairfax's position. One one wing now, the Cavaliers were winning while on the other it was the Roundheads. The infantry also engaged and Newcastle was having the better of it there. Cromwell's men were well-disciplined. When they broke Rupert's lines and sent him racing away, they reined in their horses and awaited orders. Cromwell led them across the battlefield and destroyed Goring's forces who, in their victory on that flank, had not kept ranks. With both cavalry wings eliminated, Cromwell then charged Newcastle's infantry from the flank.
It was a rout. The Yorkshiremen proudly held their ground and died, almost all of them. Loss of men was the one thing Charles could not afford, and with Marston Moor all of the north was lost to the royalist cause.
This battle vaulted Oliver Cromwell into the leading ranks of the parliamentary party, and he was no moderate. He was the first of the radicals to command his own troops. He now began a drive, along with Vane, to reform the army.
For the parliamentary troops were still officered by the nobility, and this had not gone unremarked. Many a Puritan in Commons had complained that the army seemed hesitant, even reluctant to do battle, quick to retreat, uncertain in victory. Essex had nearly lost his command in the first year, and other lords were being loudly criticized. Now had come a great victory, engineered by a commoner. Clearly the army needed an overhaul.
The matter was legally tricky for the army was made up of men, mostly nobles, who had received specific letters of authorization from Parliament. Those letters empowered them to levy troops (often from their own estates) and to equip and pay them. This in turn usually entailed loans and promissory notes and no end of financial entanglements with bankers and merchants. Cromwell's plan was something called the Self-Denying Ordinance, whereby all members of Parliament would lay down their commands together, a bit like dissolving Parliament and holding new elections. And when new officers were appointed, none were to be Members of Parliament. That would effect a separation between the army and the government that the reformers deemed desirable.
This was not the only reform in the works. There was a movement for church reform as well. The Presbyterians favored a reorganization along Scottish lines and also favored a negotiated peace with the king. The Independents were more radical. They wanted complete freedom of worship with no national church. They favored a vigorous prosecution of the war and were the chief advocates of army reform.
The king refused any proposal that would do away with the bishops or with the Prayer Book. When it was at last clear there could be no compromise, the House of Lords approved both the Self-Denying Ordinance and a proposal to create the New Model Army. Fairfax got the infantry and Cromwell the cavalry, despite the provision that MPs were not to hold a command.
The New Model Army wasn't completely new. It was in fact modelled heavily on the county associations, which was a kind of militia, raised by the locals, separate from noble armies. The reform was intended to produce a better, more effective military force, but it had unintended social and political consequences as well. The New Model Army was the first truly national army and one day would find it had its own voice.
The New Model Army went into action almost at once. At Naseby, on 14 June 1645, another action was fought in which Rupert swept to victory on his wing, and promptly dispersed. Meanwhile, on the other wing, Cromwell swept to victory as well, but retained order and fell upon the infantry. Rupert returned from his victory to find the battle had been lost.
That was the final defeat for Charles. He had no army left. In this extremity he showed some of the dignity and resolve that so easily could become arrogance and stubbornness. He rejected Rupert's advice to accept Parliament's terms. He was utterly convinced of the righteousness of his cause and that "God will not suffer rebels and traitors to prosper." He said this even as he was sure he himself faced exile or worse. He held out a bit longer, but surrendered in May 1646, not indeed to Parliament but to the Scots.
The Scots didn't quite know what to do with their royal captive. They certainly didn't want to keep him. The war was over, Parliament had paid up, and the Scots had no business remaining in England. But they didn't want to bring Charles back to Scotland, where he was still technically king, because he continued to refuse to accept the Covenant. In the end, they gave him over to the English and went home. Charles passed into Parliamentary custody at Holmby House, February 1647.
Already, by that spring, the influence of the New Model Army was making itself felt on English political life, especially in religious matters. Some of the units had chaplains, but in many cases preachers emerged from the ranks themselves--men who felt called to speak not only on the Gospel but on the great matters of the day. This was actually a long tradition in English Puritanism: not only the independence of congregations (which readily translated to independence of the military companies), but also of individuals within the congregation speaking on doctrine as equals.
It's here, from the ranks of the army, that the most radical of all the English reform movements emerged: the Levellers. They went beyond religion to advocate social and political reforms as well. As their name implies, they felt the Gospel meant all men should receive the same justice and be governed by the same laws, regardless of social status. They wanted annual meetings of Parliament, with paid members (to remove the dominance of the wealthy), and would give all property owners the right to vote.
As Leveller ideas circulated, the Independents made common cause with the Presbyterians. Just as with the Anabaptists a century before, religious arguments could be tabled in the interest of social solidarity: social revolution must be prevented at any cost. Since the radical voices were coming largely from the army, this became the focus of attention. Parliament wanted to disband it. The war was over, after all, and the army's continued existence could only imply a threat.
In Marchy 1647 Parliament ordered the army dissolved. It neglected, however, to pay the soldiers. After having paid off the Scots, there simply was no money, and the troops were issued promissory notes instead. This was not acceptable to the men.
The army did not disband. Instead, the soldiers formed their own congregations, chose their own officers, and prepared to present their case. At about the same time, in May, Charles agreed in principle to let Parliament run the army and to accept a presbyterian-style church. The greater threat now seemed to be not the king but the New Model Army.
Cromwell threw his lot in with the soldiers at first. He sent a troop of cavalry to keep an eye on Charles, whom he did not trust. The officer in command went a step further and decided to capture Charles. The king was now in the hands of the most radical elements in England.
The leaders of the army swore in June never to disband until their demands were met. They accused eleven members of parliament of conspiring to call down the Scots. The army marched on London, camping just outside, and the eleven accused fled for their lives. The city was occupied, after a short delay, in August. Soldiers entered the House of Commons and presented their demands. Once again the Speaker was held down in his chair by force.
That October the army itself debated the future of the country, at Putney. Levellers, who were only one faction within the army, produced a document, the Agreement of the People, that stated their programme clearly: annual parliaments, paid members, the vote for all adult males except servants and the poor, free trade, freedom of religion, equal electoral districts, and no king. It was the most radical programme yet proposed, and it called forth opposition from every side. As the Putney Debates ended, Cromwell ordered the troops to disperse. When some of the infantry tried to reconstitute the debates at nearby Ware, Cromwell brought his cavalry and dispersed them, arresting three and shooting one. This put an end to any threat of a split within the army itself. The Leveller faction was defeated and never again exerted serious influence.
In November 1647 Charles' son, the future Charles II, escaped captivity and fled to the Isle of Wight. The elder Charles was still trying to negotiate, but the escape of the younger caused Cromwell to decide against him. Cromwell denounced the king before Parliament in January 1648. It appeared the Independents, under Cromwell, were gaining the upper hand, and most of the Presbyterians now left their seats in the Commons, which was looking awfully empty.
In April 1648, royalist rebellions broke out in southeast England and in Wales. A great many Englishment, whatever their criticisms of Charles, sincerely believed England was a kingdom and needed a king. They feared these Independents would have no king at all.
The Presbyterians also wanted to keep a monarchy and they negotiated openly with Charles, who had also made a Scottish alliance. The Scots liked the Levellers no better than anyone else, and they invaded that summer. The New Model Army had its hands full dealing with revolts and invasions. The Presbyterians thought it a good time to move, so they returned to London to reclaim their seats, but the Levellers blocked them at the doors. They let only about seventy members enter, all either Independents or Levellers. This formed the so-called Rump Parliament.
The army was already demanding Charles be put on trial for treason. In January 1649, this body declared the Commons to be, when assembled in Parliament, "the supreme power in this nation."
King Charles was put on trial 20 January 1649. What's extraordinary is that Parliament explicitly recognized Charles to be the right and proper king, accusing him of seeking "an unlimited and tyrranical power." That is, he was condemned for being a bad king, which is to say Parliament had empowered itself to judge kings, a power unprecedented.
It was a short trial. Charles was condemned by a total of fifty-nine signatures, a majority vote only because Commons had so much shrunk from its original size of three hundred or so. Charles was executed on 30 January 1649, and now only Parliament ruled, and it ruled only by the power of the army.
The Rump Parliament also abolished the House of Lords and seems to have had in mind government by committee. It created a Council of State and made Cromwell its head.
Some wanted to go further. One line from a pamphlet of the time gets quoted often: "We were before ruled by King, Lords and Commons; now by a General, a Court Martial, and House of Commons. And we pray you, what is the difference?"
Small factions went even further than the Levellers. The Fifth Monarchists believed these were the end times and wanted a dictatorship of the godly ministers. The Diggers urged community of goods and had already created communities wherein all property was held in common, recalling the Moravian Anabaptists.
The Levellers were put down by force. One of their most important leaders, John Lilburne, predicted from prison in the Tower that the current regime would be so oppressive that it would drive men into the arms of the young Prince Charles and "bring him into his father's throne."
The parliamentary government faced difficulties on all sides. Ireland proved so strongly royalist that Cromwell was sent there in August to deal with the rebellion. The following year, he attacked Scotland, which had embraced "bonnie Prince Charlie." The Scots, with the prince present, counter-attacked in 1651 and were again defeated, after which Charles fled to France.
Cromwell had, by dint of three years' hard fighting, brought an end to the Civil War. The threat of a royalist revival was gone for the time being, and the radical dissenters were crushed. Cromwell returned to London expecting the Rump Parliament to dissolve and allow for new elections.
But, just as the army had not wanted to dissolve, now neither did Commons. Parliament was well satisfied with ruling by committee and feared new elections would return too many radicals. They feared domination by the army.
It was a well-founded fear. In April 1653 Cromwell had seen enough. He entered the Commons with troops, ejected the Speaker from his chair and issued his famous declaration: "Come, come! I will put an end to your prating. You are no Parliament. I say you are no Parliament. I will put an end to your sitting."
And that was that. The army, in the person of Oliver Cromwell, now ruled England.
He tried to rule with Parliament. He called a new one--the "Parliament of Saints," so named because it was dominated by radical Levellers like the Fifth Monarchists. Cromwell called a parliament to help establish a constitutional basis for his rule, but it went far beyond its original charge. He managed to get it to dissolve after six months.
He then turned to John Lambert, who wrote a document describing a new system: rule by Parliament and a Lord Protector. That might look a lot like King and Parliament, but there were significant differences. The Lord Protector could, for example, refuse to sign a bill, but if he took no action for twenty days, it became law anyway. There would be no veto. Parliament had to be summoned by him at least once every three years, nor could it be dissolved by him until it had sat at least five months. There would be no repeat of Charles' rule by prerogative.
Cromwell became Lord Protector in December 1653. He had eight months of comparative peace, then a new Parliament was returned (September 1654). The new Parliament had its factions, some of which were deeply opposed to the very idea of a Lord Protector. After months of squabbling that at one point went as far as soldiers surrounding the House, Cromwell dissolved Parliament in January 1655. Meanwhile, discontent was growing and there were even minor rumblings of a royalist rebellion.
Parliament met again in 1656, and now Cromwell found himself in much the same position as Charles: he needed money, there was a war on (with Spain), and he faced a Parliament that had grievances. The divisions ran so deep that the Council of State disqualified some members and others left in protest. It was clear that a strong hand was needed and there was talk of making Cromwell a king (March 1657). He refused, but he did accept the right to name his own successor. He also accepted the creation of a second house, which was another House of Lords in all but name.
The next Parliament, the first of the Protectorate with two houses, lasted only two weeks. Cromwell was utterly exasperated. He viewed the members of Commons as petty, short-sighted, and interested only in their own affairs. This was not much different from Charles' opinion.
Cromwell died on 3 September 1658. He named his son, Richard, as successor, but Richard was no match for the times. Two generals soon forced him into retirement. These twoo--Fleetwood and Lambert--tried recalling the Rump Parliament, but got nowhere and soon dissolved it again(October 1659).
At this point, another general, Monck, marched to London with his northern army, probably the best in England. In February he reassembled the Rump Parliament, which dissolved itself. This was done because the Rump was the remains of the last pre-revolutionary Parliament. New elections were held and the results were strongly royalist. Prince Charles promised a general pardon, freedom of conscience in religion, and respect for Parliament.
The prince arrived in England in May 1660 and was greeted with almost hysterical joy. The Stuarts again ruled England.
The Later Stuarts
Religion was still an unsettled issue in England, but under the later Stuarts it wasn't a question of how radical the reform might be, but rather it was whether to what extent Catholicism might make a recovery. This question became so hot that eventually James II was driven from the throne in 1688 because he had turned Catholic and the country would not stand for that.