Garland of Straw (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 2)

by Stella Riley

  Regarding the King with a steely eye, Bradshaw said portentously, ‘Charles Stuart, King of England; the Commons of England assembled in Parliament, being sensible of the great calamities that have been brought upon this nation which are fixed upon you as the author of them, have resolved to make inquisition for blood and have constituted this High Court of Justice before which you are now brought.’

  John Cook arose, holding the indictment.

  ‘My Lord, on behalf of the Commons of England and all the people thereof, I do accuse Charles Stuart, here present, of high treason and high misdemeanours; and I do desire the charge may be read to him.’

  The King stirred in his chair.

  ‘Hold a little.’

  Cook ignored him and continued unrolling the indictment. Reaching out, Charles tapped him lightly upon the arm with his silver-headed cane – and there was a sudden, unexpected thud as the head fell off and rolled away. A gasp arose from both galleries. The King waited for a moment; and then, seeing that no one was about to retrieve the knob, stooped and picked it up himself.

  Cook cleared his throat and embarked, with inappropriate enjoyment, upon the charge.

  ‘That he, the said Charles Stuart, being admitted King of England - and therein trusted with a limited power to govern by and according to the laws of the land but not otherwise – has traitorously and maliciously levied war against the present Parliament and caused many thousands of the free people of this nation to be slain. And particularly, he has given commissions to his son the Prince and others for the continuing and renewing of war and hostility against the said people and Parliament – by which cruel and unnatural wars much innocent blood has been spilt, many families have been undone, the public treasure exhausted, trade miserably decayed, vast damage to the nation incurred and many parts of this land spoiled, some of them even to desolation. By all which it appears that the said Charles Stuart has been the occasioner of the said unnatural, cruel and bloody wars and is therein guilty of all the treasons, murders, rapines, burnings, spoils, desolations, damages and mischiefs to this nation. And I, John Cook, on behalf of the people of England do for the said treasons and crimes, impeach the said Charles Stuart as a tyrant, traitor —’

  The said Charles Stuart gave a small, sardonic laugh.

  Cook shot him a malevolent glance.

  ‘As tyrant, traitor, murderer and a public enemy to the Commonwealth of England. And I pray that he may be put to answer all and every premise and that such examinations, trials, sentences and judgements may be thereupon had as shall be agreeable to justice.’

  He sat down, re-rolling the indictment and placing it on the table before him next to the sword and mace.

  The Lord President bent his eyes upon the King.

  ‘Sir – you have now heard the charge. The Court expects your answer.’

  There was a short, uneasy silence, broken only by the shuffling of feet and a cough or two.

  ‘I would know by what p-power I am called hither,’ replied His Majesty coldly, at length. ‘I was not long ago in the Isle of Wight. There I entered into a peace treaty with both Houses of Parliament – with as much public faith that is possible to be had of any people in the world. Now I would know by what authority I was brought from thence and carried from place to place and I know not what. Remember; I am your lawful King. And what sins you b-bring upon your heads and the judgement of God upon this land – think well upon it. I say, think well upon it before you go from one sin to a greater. I have a trust c-committed to me by God; by old and lawful descent. I will not betray it to answer to a new unlawful authority. Therefore resolve me that and you shall hear more of me.’

  Bradshaw said reprovingly, ‘If you had observed what was hinted to you by the Court, you would know by what authority. And it now requires you, in the name of the people of England of which you are elected King, to answer.’

  ‘England was never an elective Kingdom – but an hereditary Kingdom for nearly these thousand years,’ Charles retorted swiftly. ‘I stand more for the liberty of my people than any here that are come to be my pretended judges. Therefore let me know by what lawful authority I am seated here and I will answer.’

  ‘Sir, your way of answer is to interrogate the Court – which suits you not in this condition.’

  ‘I do not come here as submitting to the Court,’ came the unequivocal reply. ‘I stand as much for the privileges of the House of Commons, rightly understood, as any man here. But I see no House of Lords that may constitute a Parliament. Let me see a legal authority and I will answer.’

  Frustration darkened Bradshaw’s face and he snapped, ‘Sir, seeing you will not answer, the Court will consider how to proceed. In the meantime, those that brought you hither are to take charge of you back again.’

  As if on a pre-arranged signal, the soldiers in the Hall began a concerted cry of ‘Justice! Justice!’ The King looked round, half-amazed, half-nonplussed; and, taking advantage of the first crack in his composure, the Lord President again asked if he would answer the charge.

  His Majesty looked back at him, his countenance severe.

  ‘I desire that you give me and all the world satisfaction in this. Let me tell you, it is not a slight thing you are about. I am sworn to keep the peace and I will do it to the last breath of my body. Therefore you will do well to satisfy first God, and then the country, by what authority you do this. If you do it by a usurped authority, you cannot answer. I do avow it is as great a sin to withstand lawful authority as it is to submit to a tyrannical or unlawful authority. And therefore satisfy me and you shall receive my answer.’

  ‘If you are not satisfied with our authority,’ Bradshaw blustered, ‘we are satisfied with it. This Court will adjourn until Monday 22nd, when it will expect your answer.’

  His Majesty did not budge. He said, ‘You have shown no lawful authority to satisfy any reasonable man.’

  ‘That is your apprehension.’

  ‘It is not my apprehension - nor yours neither - that ought to decide it.’

  The Lord President surged to his feet.

  ‘The Court has heard you – and you are to be disposed of as it has decided,’ he responded angrily. Then, with a sweep of his arm, ‘Remove the prisoner!’

  The guards began to close in on the crimson velvet chair. Entirely without haste, the King stood up and gestured distastefully to the indictment.

  ‘I do not fear that,’ he said. And, turning, allowed the guards to escort him from the Hall.

  Another chorus of ‘Justice!’ erupted from the soldiers and was taken up by some of the spectators. Venetia leaned perilously over the rail and, with all the force of her lungs, shouted, ‘God save the King!’

  The King stopped and, for a fragment of a second, stared up at her before he was hustled away. Ignoring the glaring officer below her, Venetia sat back and grinned at Anne Fairfax. There had been no time for any sign of recognition but that did not matter. Her satisfaction lay in hearing her cry taken up by others on the public benches … and in knowing that His Majesty must be able to hear it, too.

  *

  The next day was Sunday and, all around the City, specially chosen texts thundered from the pulpits; they varied from the ambiguity of ‘Judge not that ye be not judged’, to the glorious certainty of Hugh Peter’s ‘I will bind their kings in chains’. Venetia listened to none of them and, instead, set off for the Tower and the single, niggardly hour which was all she was permitted to spend with her husband.

  Gabriel kissed her and then sat down with his arm about her waist. He said, ‘Tell me about yesterday.’

  ‘Lady Fairfax has promised to speak to the Lord General on your behalf, in the hope that he’ll push things along if Cromwell tries to drag his feet after Eden’s supplied him with all the evidence.’

  ‘All the evidence?’

  ‘All that we have in your favour.’

  ‘That’s more like it. As for Fairfax …since this isn’t a military crisis, he’s unlikely to interfer
e. But I’m grateful to you for trying.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s purely selfish, I assure you.’ She smiled up at him. ‘And I quite enjoy bearding the lions. It’s what I’m good at – as you, of all people, should know.’

  He laughed. ‘I do. Oh I do, believe me.’

  ‘Well there’s no need to sound so down-trodden. As I recall it, you give as good as you get.’

  ‘Always.’ His fingers strayed to the line of her neck and she tilted her face up to his, inviting him to take advantage. He did so and it was therefore some time later before he said randomly, ‘Sophy’s a mine of surprises, isn’t she? Why do you suppose she never before mentioned that she knew Anne Fairfax?’

  ‘You know Sophy. Only things with four legs and fur register most of the time.’

  ‘Mm. But it makes you wonder what other dark secrets she’s harbouring. A long-standing friendship with Denzil Holles, perhaps … or a passionate, youthful affair with his Grace of Hamilton?’ He paused and then, in a very different tone, said, ‘And that brings us back to my original question. What happened at the trial?’

  ‘His Majesty denied the legality of the Court,’ she replied. And gave him a brief account of the proceedings in Westminster Hall. ‘He did it well, too. All his life, he’s never shown to advantage on public occasions. But yesterday he was every inch a king. He left the prosecution without a shred of credibility – and Bradshaw might as well have held up a sword and said ‘Here is our authority’. It was a performance which even Lilburne might have applauded.’

  ‘Very likely,’ agreed Gabriel. ‘But will it save him?’

  The light faded from her face and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  ‘Not if they’re determined to be rid of him. And I suspect … I very much suspect that they are.’

  *

  The following morning brought a note from Lady Gillingham suggesting that – if Venetia had no prior engagement with Lady Fairfax – she might care to attend that day’s session of the trial with herself and Lady Newburgh. Venetia frowned at the unfamiliar name and then, shrugging, sent her ladyship’s servant back with a message of acceptance.

  On learning that she was planning to spend a second afternoon in Westminster Hall, Sophia said anxiously, ‘Is that really such a good idea? It’s time you started taking a bit more care of yourself. And I’m not sure you should be risking your health amidst crowds of people in your condition.’

  Venetia sighed and explained that she would again be sitting snug in one of the galleries – this time with Lady Gillingham. There was an infinitesimal silence during which Sophia’s attention appeared to wander. Then she said vaguely, ‘I’m sorry. Who did you say?’

  ‘Lady Gillingham. We were at Whitehall together before the war and I met her again when Gabriel brought me to London last spring.’ A gleam of humour lit her eyes. ‘You needn’t worry, Sophy. Isabel is too conscious of her dignity to go anywhere near the masses, so I’ll be perfectly safe. And now I must change or I’ll be late. Gallery tickets are expensive – so full plumage is obligatory.’

  Once more lavishly attired in her dark green silk under a velvet cloak and wearing the gold locket which was her only remaining ornament, Venetia met Isabel, as arranged, at the head of Westminster Stairs – and immediately received a pleasant surprise. Her ladyship’s vivacious companion was none other than her own friend, Kate D’Aubigny.

  ‘You were expecting a stranger – confess it!’ crowed Kate, drawing Venetia into a brief, perfumed embrace. ‘Did news of my re-marriage not reach the frozen north?’

  Venetia shook her head.

  ‘You are Lady Newburgh?’

  ‘Are you surprised?’ And then, her expression clouding, ‘Of course you are. And you mustn’t think I’ve forgotten George, because I haven’t. But it’s been six years and life has to go on. That’s why you’re not married to Ellis, isn’t it?’ The bright, slightly restless smile returned. ‘Don’t worry. Isabel has told me everything.’

  Catching the coolness in Venetia’s eye, Lady Gillingham said quickly, ‘Is there any news of the Colonel’s release?’

  ‘None, unfortunately. But I live in hope.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Kate warmly. ‘And Roundhead or not, I’m glad you love him. It’s the only thing that counts.’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Isabel thinly. ‘Not at all, in fact. Shall we go in? It’s freezing out here.’

  The scene inside the Hall was much as it had been on Saturday. Venetia took her seat beside Isabel and noticed that Lady Fairfax was once more in her accustomed place at the front of the opposite gallery. Then Kate Newburgh said sadly, ‘His Majesty dined with us on his way from Hurst to Windsor, you know. James and I hoped we might help him to escape – but it came to nothing.’

  Venetia smiled. It was so like Kate. She and Sir William Waller’s cousin, Edmund, had hatched the famous plot to seize London back in ’43 – and that, too, had come to nothing. But at least no one could accuse her of not trying.

  As before, the Commissioners filed in to occupy their benches – seventy of them this time, Venetia noticed – and Lord President Bradshaw took his seat. Then the proceedings opened with the announcement that anyone who created a disturbance would be instantly arrested. Lady Fairfax grinned triumphantly across at Venetia and then settled back to await Solicitor-General Cook’s preamble.

  It appeared that His Majesty was waiting for it, too – and when Cook continued his whispered conference with another lawyer, the King awarded him a sharp prod with the point of his cane.

  Cook whirled round, opening his mouth on a furious objection, only to catch the Lord President’s admonitory eye. Scowling, he said, ‘May it please your lordship, I did at the last Court exhibit a charge of high treason against the prisoner at the bar. He was not then pleased to give an answer but did dispute the authority of this High Court. My humble motion is that the prisoner may be directed to make a positive answer. And if he shall refuse, that the charge may be taken pro confesso and the Court proceed according to justice.’

  Bradshaw nodded to him to be seated and then, once more, invited the King to respond to the charge.

  ‘If it were only my own particular case,’ replied Charles reflectively, ‘I would have satisfied myself with the protestation I made the last time I was here – that a King cannot be tried by any superior jurisdiction on earth. But it is not my case alone; it is the freedom and the liberty of the people of England. For if power without law may alter the fundamental laws of the Kingdom, I do not know what subject in England can be sure of his life or anything that he calls his own. Therefore —’

  ‘Sir, I must interrupt you,’ snapped Bradshaw. ‘You are about to dispute the authority of this Court of law before which you appear as a high Delinquent.’

  ‘I do not know how a King can be a Delinquent,’ mused His Majesty. ‘By any law that I ever heard, all men – Delinquents or what you will – may demur against any proceeding as legal. And I demand to be heard with my reasons. If you deny that, you deny reason.’

  ‘You may not demur against the jurisdiction of the Court,’ came the irascible reply. ‘They sit here by the authority of the Commons of England – and all your predecessors and you are responsible to them. Therefore —’

  ‘I deny that. Show me one precedent.’

  ‘Sir, you ought not to interrupt while the Court is speaking! Clerk – read the determination of the Court.’

  Andrew Broughton stood up.

  ‘Charles Stuart – you have been accused of high treasons and other high crimes. The Court has determined that you ought to answer the same.’

  ‘I will answer,’ stated Charles with maddening calm, ‘as soon as I know by what authority you do this.’

  The Lord President slammed his fist down upon the table.

  ‘If this be all you will say, then those who brought you here may take you back again.’

  The King looked back stubbornly.

  ‘I require that I may give my reasons wh
y I do not answer.’

  ‘It is not for prisoners to require!’

  The dark, Stuart eyes blazed with sudden anger.

  ‘I, sir, am no ordinary prisoner. Show me that jurisdiction where reason is not to be heard.’

  ‘We show it you here – the Commons of England.’

  ‘The Commons of England was never a Court of judicature. I would know how they came to be so.’

  Already red in the face, Bradshaw hesitated and then gave up.

  ‘Sergeant – take away the prisoner.’

  The King came slowly to his feet, his gaze impaling the assembled ranks of the Commissioners.

  ‘Remember that the King is not suffered to give his reasons –for the liberty and freedom of all his subjects.’

  ‘How great a friend you have been to the laws and liberties of the people, let all England – all the world – judge!’ cried Bradshaw triumphantly.

  The King froze and looked back through the ring of guards closing in on him. For the first time since the trial had begun, his stammer became evident as he said, ‘Sir – under favour – it was the liberty, f-freedom and laws of the subject that ever I took – d-defended myself with arms. I never took up arms against the people b-but for the laws.’

  Sensing that he had the whip hand at last, Bradshaw boomed, ‘Clerk – record the prisoner’s default in not answering the charge and his contempt of the Court of Parliament. Remove the prisoner!’

  This time the orchestrated shouts of the soldiers came as no surprise and the King’s friends were ready with their reply. Then, just as Venetia was about to join in, one solitary trooper defied his orders to cry, ‘God help and save Your Majesty!’

  The man was immediately struck to the ground by Colonel Axtell and the King paused, looking at him.

  ‘Poor fellow,’ he said clearly. ‘It is a heavy blow for a small offence.’

  *

  Outside, in the gathering dusk of New Palace Yard, Venetia bade farewell to Isabel and Kate and agreed to meet them again on the following afternoon. Then, just as she was about to descend the steps in search of a boat, a familiar voice said, ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to share the cost of the journey with an impecunious scribbler, would you?’ And turning, she found herself face to face with Samuel Radford.