ote: Ruin of the Parliament.]
The sword had fallen; and the old system of English government sank
helplessly beneath the blow. The two great powers which had waged this
bitter conflict, the Parliament and the Monarchy, suddenly disappeared.
The expulsion of one hundred and forty members, in a word of the
majority of the existing House, reduced the Commons to a name. The
remnant who remained to co-operate with the army were, in the coarse
imagery of popular speech, but the "rump" of a Parliament. Their will
was no longer representative of the will of the country; their acts were
no longer national acts. They were simply the acts of a body of
partizans who had the luck to find themselves on the side of the sword.
While the House of Commons dwindled to a sham, the House of Lords passed
away altogether. The effect of Pride's Purge was seen in a resolution of
the Rump for the trial of Charles, and the nomination on the first of
January 1649 of a Court of one hundred and fifty Commissioners to
conduct it, with John Bradshaw, a lawyer of eminence, at their head. The
rejection of this Ordinance by the few peers who remained brought about
a fresh resolution from the members who remained in the Lower House,
"that the People are, under God, the original of all just power; that
the Commons of England in Parliament assembled--being chosen by, and
representing, the People--have the supreme power in this nation; and
that whatsoever is enacted and declared for law by the Commons in
Parliament assembled hath the force of a law, and all the people of this
nation are concluded thereby, although the consent and concurrence of
the king or House of Peers be not had hereunto."
[Sidenote: Death of the king.]
And with the ruin of the Parliament went the ruin of the Monarchy. On
the twentieth of January Charles appeared before Bradshaw's Court only
to deny its competence and to refuse to plead; but thirty-two witnesses
were examined to satisfy the consciences of his judges, and it was not
till the fifth day of the trial that he was condemned to death as a
tyrant, traitor, murderer, and enemy of his country. The popular
excitement vented itself in cries of "Justice," or "God save your
Majesty," as the trial went on, but all save the loud outcries of the
soldiers was hushed as, on the 30th of January 1649, Charles passed to
his doom. The dignity which he had failed to preserve in his long
jangling with Bradshaw and the judges returned at the
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