hat memorable occasion, but we have a vivid account of the
scene handed down to us by an eye-witness, Captain Slingsby, who,
happening to meet the royal party on its way to the city, turned back and
followed it into the precincts of the Council Chamber.(496) Charles lost
no time in coming to the point. He had come, he said, to demand those
persons who had been already accused of high treason, and who were
believed at that moment to be lurking within the city. He desired to bring
them to a trial at law, and depended upon those present for their
assistance. He was resolved to redress grievances and to preserve the
privileges of parliament, but he must "question these traitors." After
justifying the existence of a guard at Whitehall and saying a few friendly
words to the aldermen, he invited himself to dinner with one of the
sheriffs, choosing the sheriff who was less favourably disposed towards
him, viz., sheriff Garrett. The king's speech was followed by an ominous
pause. Then a cry, writes Slingsby, was raised in the council,
"Parliament! Privileges of parliament!" and presently another, "God bless
the king!" These continued for some time, but he professes to be unable to
say which of the two was loudest. When silence was restored the king asked
that a spokesman should make known to him their wishes. Thereupon a member
of the council arose and said, "It is the vote of this court that your
majesty hear the advice of your parliament." This statement was at once
challenged by another, who cried out, "It is not the vote of this court:
it is your own vote." The king replied by asking who it was that charged
him with not taking the advice of his parliament, adding that he did take
its advice and would continue to do so, but, said he, "I must distinguish
between the parliament and some traitors in it," and these, he repeated,
"he would bring to trial--to trial." "No privileges could protect a traitor
from a trial." With this he turned to leave the Council Chamber. On
reaching the outer hall he was again assailed with the cry that had been
made to ring in his ears all the way from Whitehall to the city, "The
privileges of parliament!" Undaunted he made his way through the mob to
dine at Garrett's house, and later in the day, amid the same cries, he
returned to Whitehall.

(M210)

Relieved of his presence, the Common Council, with great deliberation,
agreed on the terms of a petition to be presented to his majesty.(497)
After e