God’s FURY, England’s FIRE
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All this was encouraging for the King. In late April, the slightly amended Newcastle Propositions were urged on him and his reply was longer and a little more hopeful than on the first two occasions. He was willing to come to London and to grant Presbyterian government for three years pending discussions in the Westminster Assembly (with his nominations added), but he reserved his position on the Solemn League and Covenant. On the militia he was willing to give up control for ten years for the sake of peace, but on condition that it thereafter returned to the control of the crown.78 His reply was voted sufficient by Parliament and the Scottish commissioners.79 Standing above the fray, the King had little to lose from this increasingly fractious argument among his former enemies.
Through May this stand-off continued, but the political prospects of the New Model seemed to deteriorate. Another meeting was held at Saffron Walden church, on 7 May, where it was decided that deals could not be done without representation of the rank and file. Accordingly, each troop or company elected agitators. After a week of consultations with the agitators the officers met the parliamentary commissioners once more, on 15 May. The result was the Declaration of the Army, which bore the signatures of 223 commissioned officers. On 17 May, Cromwell offered reassurances that the Indemnity Ordinance had already passed the Commons and that arrears in addition to the six weeks” already offered would soon be promised. The commissioners were able to report back to Westminster that they found the army to have legitimate grievances.80
The promise of settlement with the King, however, seems to have made the Presbyterians in Parliament even less inclined to generosity towards the army. Rumours circulated in the New Model of a plan to pay off the privates and take revenge on the officers and that, once demobilized, the soldiers would be vulnerable to the press or prosecutions without indemnity: unless the parliamentary declaration that they were enemies of state and disturbers of the public peace was stricken from the record they had little hope of protection under the law. Presbyterians in the Lords invited the King closer to London, to Oatlands (near Weybridge in Surrey), further fuelling distrust of Parliament’s intentions. It was on that day that the Large Petition and its two sequels were ordered to be burnt by the public hangman. On 25 May the Presbyterians decided to proceed with disbandment, not indemnity, and their scheme was adopted by the Lords two days later. They had also taken a number of measures of defence – for better securing the King and bringing arms from Oxford to London, and Sydenham Poyntz was sent to York with orders to prepare for battle with Fairfax. On 28 May, Parliament offered security for the arrears, and redress of grievances after disbandment.81 During May the City loan to pay off the arrears of the New Model was put in the hands of Presbyterian treasurers and one of their centres of operation was Christ Church, Newgate, Thomas Edwards’s church. Here they cashiered, recruited and preached – a nerve centre of a pretty comprehensive assault on the power base of their opponents.82
For the army two matters were now coming to a head – the defence of their collective interests and the control of the King. Their treatment at the hands of Parliament, and their resistance to a strict Presbyterian settlement, was increasingly cementing an alliance with radicals in the City. Against this alliance was arrayed a Presbyterian mobilization which had secured control of Parliament, had a firm base in London’s pulpits and presses, and had the possibility of military support from the London militia and even the Covenanters. Fears about these military forces prompted a move to take control of arms in Oxford and, in a related initiative, of the person of the King.
On 31 May the Presbyterian Committee for Irish Affairs ordered control to be taken of the artillery, and at a meeting at Cromwell’s house the same day Cromwell approved a plan put to him by George Joyce to replace the guards around the King with men of proven loyalty. Their intention was to block the removal of the King. Remarkably, Joyce and the agitators had already put together a force of 1,000 horse – this was a political intervention taking force from the rank and file, not dictated by the officers. These men had already ridden to Oxford on 29 May to secure the artillery. Joyce then sent a detachment north before going to London, presumably to seek Cromwell’s approval. He caught up with the rest of his troops on 1 June, and when they arrived at Holmby they were not resisted by the guards there, or the parliamentary commissioners; and Graves, the parliamentary commander, fled. After a tense day, Joyce wrote to London for further instructions – to whom is not known, although it was claimed that Cromwell or Haselrig was the intended recipient. As news of the action spread in London, Holles and Stapleton resolved to arrest Cromwell, but he fled to the New Model. Late on the evening of 2 June, Joyce decided to take the King with him to a safer location. He forced entry to the King’s chamber and told him that he would be leaving in the morning.83
At daybreak one of the more remarkable conversations of the 1640s took place. The King was acquiescent, but demanded to know by what authority Joyce was acting. If the account given above is accurate, that was a particularly tricky question. The change of guard was at the command of the army, not Parliament, and therefore of debatable propriety; but the evidence suggests that removing the King was Joyce’s idea. His rank was Cornet – hardly the level of the army at which such decisions should be made. But his response was even more interesting – he claimed the authority of ‘the soldiery of the army’. Charles then pressed him to know if he had anything in writing from Fairfax, a question which Joyce evaded. Scenting blood, perhaps, Charles pressed him again: ‘I pray Mr Joyce, deal ingeniously with me, and tell me what commission you have?’ Joyce replied, ‘Here is my commission’. ‘Where?’ said the King. ‘Behind me’, said Joyce, pointing at the mounted soldiers. The King smiled and said, ‘it is as fair a commission, and as well written as he had seen a commission in his life; and a company of handsome proper gentlemen as he had seen a great while’.84 When Charles asked where he was to be taken Joyce suggested Oxford – the nearest reliable garrison – but Charles objected and Joyce suggested Cambridge instead. They compromised on Newmarket – coincidentally or not, the site of a planned general rendezvous of the army the following day.85
Here were respectable fears made manifest – a former tailor giving orders to the King. It is not clear what Joyce meant when he gestured over his shoulder at his troops – that his authority rested in force, or in the will of the soldiers or of the common man (hence Charles’s gentle teasing about gentlemen).86 But it might be a little clearer what Charles’s smile meant – this was no commission, not even from Fairfax. If he had fears for his personal safety then he almost certainly had some pleasure at the evident desperation of his enemies. He sent a message to Parliament with the Earl of Dunfermline that he had travelled against his will and that he expected Parliament to uphold its own honour and the laws of the land.87 It is not hard to imagine a smile playing on his lips as he composed that message, either.
While these extraordinary scenes were unfolding, the main body of the New Model came into open conflict with Parliament and in the process articulated an independent political vision. On 31 May commissioners arrived at Chelmsford to begin the disbandment of Fairfax’s regiment but they faced mutiny. The troops marched off to Newmarket, the place appointed for the general rendezvous. Addressed again at Braintree they were disrespectful and marched off again, and on 2 June the parliamentary commissioners were recalled. Fairfax arrived at Newmarket on 5 June, where he was met enthusiastically and received a ‘Humble Representation of the Dissatisfactions of the Army’, drawn up by the agitators. A rather more outspoken Solemn Engagement of the Army was produced that day, read and assented to by the men and officers of every regiment.88
As well as systematizing the complaints of the army the Solemn Engagement called forth the institution which became known as the General Council of the Army, empowered to accept offers made to the army. This may have been an attempt to rein in the agitators, by bringing them into contact with the officers. Although it recognized the role of agitators,
it did not necessarily recognize the agitators so far elected. Nonetheless, it institutionalized and legitimated the role of agitators in the larger political decisions facing the army. Fairfax, meanwhile, had ordered Whalley to join the King to protect him from insult and then ordered that he be returned to Holmby. The latter order was frustrated by Charles, however, now seemingly enjoying himself. He continued to his house at Newmarket by back lanes. Villagers strewed green boughs and rushes before him and an entry to Cambridge was ruled out in case he was greeted too enthusiastically by the townspeople – he did not see, therefore, the hundreds of bonfires lit for him in the city.89
As the army published its manifestos and took control of the King, Parliament seems to have tried to take control of the streets of London. A parliamentary Committee of Safety was established to operate in tandem with the City militia committee. On 6 June, Massey rode through the City calling on citizens to defend themselves against the madmen in the army whose intention was to behead the best men in Parliament and the City. On five successive days from 4 June onwards Reformadoes (recently disbanded soldiers) thronged the Houses pressing for payment of their arrears, and promises were made. It was also the pretext for granting to the City the power to raise troops of horse, although this was also pretty plainly a means to raise a Presbyterian force, which might well include Reformadoes among its recruits. Payments for service in Ireland were made to reliably Presbyterian officers and £10,000 was earmarked for the pay of officers and soldiers who deserted the New Model to join the new force.90
At the same time, measures were taken to win support among the apprentices and opponents of the excise. On 8 June, five months after the initial petition, and long after two further petitions had been ignored, an ordinance was passed appointing the second Tuesday of every month a recreation day. Apprentices were to be given as much time as their masters ‘could conveniently spare from their extraordinary and necessary services’. A subsequent ordinance sought to restrict masters” discretion on this point, and empowered JPs to investigate complaints. This was only a partially populist move, but still pretty clearly an attempt to win support since the same ordinance gave legislative force to the abolition of holy days, including Christmas – in part in response to a very widely discussed proclamation from Charles in favour of the celebration of Easter.91
This desire to curry favour on the streets, in the face of a looming confrontation with the army, seems also to have prompted the abolition of the excise duties on meat and salt three days later. These were the two most regressive excises, and the ones that had produced the most significant disorders, which were often led by butchers or salt workers. The day after it took effect the newly erected excise house was demolished and the materials given to the waiting crowd. There were bonfires of celebration this time. There do not appear to have been any significant disturbances since February, when Parliament had issued an explanation rather than an apology. Neither is there any record of prior discussion, or explanation in the legislation itself. But since nothing had happened to shift the financial position, it seems pretty clear that this was a populist, anti-army measure, passed for short-term advantage.92
This bid for control of the streets was only partially successful. In June, Presbyterian belligerence did not resonate on the streets: on 12 June the Lord Mayor summoned the Trained Bands on pain of death, but most of the men stayed at home. Those out drumming to call them out were jeered by small boys, and most shops stayed open.93 The first apprentices” playday, 13 July, however, was marked by the presentation of a petition for the suppression of conventicles, the restoration of the King and the disbandment of the army.94
From mid-June until early August a new war seemed possible. The army moved slowly on London, making increasingly political demands, while Presbyterians struggled to hold their nerve. On 13 June, Fairfax was met at St Albans by a delegation from the City. There a Declaration of the army was handed over, laying out a more political programme, and it was published the following day. They were, they said, no ‘mere mercenary army, hired to serve any arbitrary power of a State, but called forth and conjured by the several declarations of parliament to the defence of our own and the people’s just rights and liberties’. They were making their demands as Englishmen, not soldiers, and they had a right to that even though they were soldiers. Drawing explicit comparison not only with the Covenanters, but with contemporary rebels in Portugal and the Netherlands, they said they could ground their actions in the defence of the fundamental laws of the kingdom, without ‘visible form either of parliament or king to countenance them’. They called for a purge of corrupt members of the House and constitutional reforms to ensure that it remained a true representative of the people: regular but limited meetings, no dissolution without its own consent and the right of the people to petition. In line with the interests of the people, they also called for restraint of the powers of military officers in the localities, full account of all the monies raised to fight the wars and public justice on the main delinquents responsible for the bloodshed. It was with this political programme in mind that the army would now move closer to London.95 This was not a completely unanimous display. Hardly any of the soldiery left the army during the early summer, but many officers did, and this tended to further reduce the social status of the command.96
The Declaration was received on 15 June, along with charges against eleven Members of Parliament, including Holles, Stapleton and Massey. When the charges were drawn up they were detailed and difficult to prove, but revolved around negotiations with the royalists: for example, dealing with the Queen’s party in France to restore the King on their terms, enlisting forces to prepare for a new war, and inviting the Covenanters to invade England in their support. It did not take a particularly hostile witness to compare this with the King’s charges against the Five Members, although they were not yet backed up by direct force. On 23 June, Parliament refused to discuss the constitutional proposals and demanded to see the evidence about the eleven members. On that day the Humble Remonstrance was issued. As the conflict escalated Fairfax refused an order to retire forty miles from London and the Houses issued defiant declarations. In the last week of June, though, they gave way. The army withdrew to Uxbridge, from where it was in a position to cut off supplies to London, and on 26 June the eleven members withdrew from the House. Two days later the minimum demands from the army were forwarded to Parliament.97 The Presbyterians, it seems, had blinked.
With the army hovering outside London at Uxbridge and then Reading, the pressure at Westminster and in the City was intense. And things were apparently moving against the Presbyterians. The Northern Association army was under the control of Poyntz, a man of reliable Presbyterian convictions, alarmed at the subversion being fostered by the agitators and almost certainly willing to co-operate with an intervention by the Covenanters if ordered to do so. But agitators in his army were co-operating with those in the New Model. At a council of war held at York on 2 July agitators demanded that some of the colonels there should sign a representation from the army to Parliament. Poyntz decided to resign his commission, since the army was no longer under his command and a dispute ensued about the command of the York garrison and the stronghold, Clifford Tower. It culminated with Poyntz being dragged from his bed and, still in his slippers, being taken under guard to Fairfax’s headquarters.98
This military blow to Presbyterianism coincided with another shift towards conciliation. On 6 July the army presented articles of impeachment against the eleven members. No impeachment had been moved from outside the House before, and it is clear that the agitators were fully involved in the drawing up of the (unprovable) charges. Central to the final charges was the issue of the corruption of the parliamentary process – the New Model was intervening to purge Parliament of corruption. Drawing up these charges had raised a fundamental question, which the army’s internal political organization had been asked explicitly: could the army act on behalf of the nation, particularly in oppositio
n to the will of Parliament? Put another way, the issue was whether the army could plausibly act on behalf of the people against the body which was formally considered to be the people’s representative.99 There were good reasons for feeling queasy about this. On the following day the articles against the eleven members were read. An ordinance expelling the Reformadoes was passed on 9 July. This, and very powerful rumours of an impending Scottish invasion, prompted the agitators to press for a march on London. But parliamentary events were moving in their favour – all the armies in pay in England and Wales were placed under Fairfax’s command (effectively recognizing the agitators” coup in Poyntz’s army), and all those who had deserted his army were to be disbanded (19 July).100
Military power seemed to have delivered political dominance to the army. There was a further extraordinary consequence of this: an independently generated platform for national political settlement, the Heads of Proposals, was presented to the King. The Heads arose from the first meeting of the General Council, at Reading on 16 July. The decision to convene the council was apparently a response to pressure from the agitators, increasingly impatient with the hesitation about entering London. Their ‘Humble Petition and Representation’ was discussed until midnight and on the following day the draft of the Heads of Proposals was discussed.101 They were more generous than anything previously offered to the King, concerned as much to limit parliamentary tyranny as to constrain the King. They called for the repeal of the Triennial Act, establishing biennial parliaments sitting for between 120 and 240 days, and redistributing seats to make the Commons ‘an equal representative of the whole’. Control of the militia would be relinquished only for ten years, and those in arms against Parliament would be barred from office for only five. But the terms were particularly generous on religion. Bishops and all ecclesiastical officers would be retained, albeit stripped of ‘all coercive power, authority, and jurisdiction’. Although this posed the question that Charles asked about the monarchy in relation to the militia – what kind of bishop had no coercive powers? – this was the first peace settlement which did not presume the abolition of episcopacy. Moreover, the Prayer Book could be used on a voluntary basis, no Presbyterian structures were to be imposed and the Covenant was not to be forced on anyone. With these safeguards against intolerance and parliamentary tyranny in place, the army would see the King restored to his regal powers, including his legislative veto. Finally, only five royalists would be exempt from a general Act of Oblivion.102 These proposals were put to the army council, of 100 officers and agitators, before they had been communicated to either the King or Parliament, or even the parliamentary commissioners at headquarters.103