The lord general, on the contrary, began to assume a more open and a bolder tone.  Hitherto, instead of leading, he had been led.  That he disapproved of much that had been done, we may readily believe; but he only records his own weakness, where he alleges in excuse of his conduct that his name had been subscribed to the resolves of the council, whether he consented or not.  He had lately shed the blood of two gallant officers at Colchester, but no solicitations could induce him to concur in shedding the blood of the king.  His name stood at the head of the commissioners:  he attended at the first meeting, in which no business was transacted, but he constantly refused to be present at their subsequent sittings, or to subscribe his name to their resolutions.[A] This conduct surprised and mortified the Independents:  it probably arose from the influence of his wife, whose desperate

[Footnote 1:  For Cromwell’s conduct see the letters in the Appendix to the second volume of the Clarendon Papers, 1. li.  The authenticity of this speech has been questioned, as resting solely on the treacherous credit of Perrinchiefe; but it occurs in a letter written on the 11th of January, which describes the proceedings of the 9th, and therefore cannot, I think, be questioned.  By turning to the Journals, it will be found that on that day the house had divided on a question whether any more messages should be received from the Lords, which was carried, in opposition to Ludlow and Marten.  “Then,” says the letter, “they fell on the business of the king’s trial.”  On this head nothing is mentioned in the Journals; but a motion which would cause frequent allusions to it, was made and carried.  It was for a new great seal, on which should be engraven the House of Commons, with this inscription:—­“In the first year of freedom, by God’s blessing restored, 1648.”  Such a motion would naturally introduce Cromwell’s speech respecting the deposition of the king and the disherison of his posterity.]

[Sidenote a:  A.D. 1649.  Jan. 3.]

loyalty will soon challenge the attention of the reader.[1]

Before this the king, in anticipation of his subsequent trial, had been removed to the palace of St.[a] James’s.  In the third week of his confinement in Hurst Castle, he was suddenly roused out of his sleep at midnight by the fall of the drawbridge and the trampling of horses.  A thousand frightful ideas rushed on his mind, and at an early hour in the morning, he desired his servant Herbert to ascertain the cause; but every mouth was closed, and Herbert returned with the scanty information that a Colonel Harrison had arrived.  At the name the king turned pale, hastened into the closet, and sought to relieve his terrors by private devotion.  In a letter which he had received at Newport, Harrison had been pointed out to him as a man engaged to take his life.  His alarm, however, was unfounded.  Harrison was a fanatic, but no murderer:  he sought, indeed, the