Scotland, East Anglia and the North, late 1644
The Scottish Theatre

July 20th:
The Battle of Warwick Bridge

Responding to scout reports of a small Royalist force near Carlisle, a detachment of 3000 Covenanters were defeated by a similarly sized Royalist force commanded by the Marquise of Montrose. Though the battle was little more than a skirmish, the Covenanter troops were shocked to find such a large group had escaped their notice until that point. Unable to force a crossing without a numerical advantage, they retreated in good order.

When the Scots still besieging York got word of this defeat, they withdrew all but 6000 foot and 3000 horse to Newcastle, where a siege was ongoing, in case the troops would be required to defend Scotland.

July 28th: Montrose's force of English and Scottish royalists met up with the predominantly Gaelic forces under Alisdair MacColla. Most of these soldiers were Kilkenny Confederation Irish, sent as a part of truce negotiations with the the Earl of Ormond, though Gaelic scots from the Highlands and Hebrides were represented too.

September 2nd: The Battle of Perth.

The battle of Perth began after the Royalist besiegers, who lacked artillery, achieved several breaches in the walls of Perth with mines. The storming of the breaches was left to the Irish brigades, who achieved a lasting breakthrough on their second attempt that won them control of the walls. As the gates of the city were opened and Irishmen rushed off into undefended sections of town, Montrose proposed the city of Perth a deal: they would surrender control of the city to him as representative of the king, and would agree to pay a "contribution to the Restoration of His Majesty King Charles of Scotland, England and Ireland". In exchange, he would prevent the sack of the city by his Gaelic troops. What resulted was a series of Royalist cavalry patrols through the streets, in which a few dozen Irish soldiers were hanged before discipline was reasserted.

The mood in the aftermath was highly polarised. From the perspective of Montrose and his English and Scottish Royalists, they had successfully negotiated the surrender of the town in a manner which recognised King Charles' authority in Scotland without any casualties. Their army had even grown, with a number of surrendered militiamen opting to join the Royalist cause. By contrast, the Irish brigade under MacColla were mutionous - of their dead, nearly half were hung by their allies. Writing of the Royalist's treatment of his Gaelic forces, Alasdair MacColla wrote "We have no allies on the battlefield - there are only those that seek to kill us, and those who seek to have us killed." The Gaelic forces were only quietened when eventually granted a portion of Perth's 'contribution.'

September 4th: Following a Royalist sally at York that left many Scots dead, David Leslie marched north to Newcastle to regroup and make his manpower available in Scotland.

September 13th: The surrender of Aberdeen.

The Early of Huntly, head of the Gordon clan, held extensive properties in and around Aberdeen. He had started a Royalist rebellion as recently as March, only to be disarmed again by the Covenanter government by May. This hadn't been Huntly's first attempt either, with an earlier attempted Royalist rising by Huntly had been negotiated down by the Marquis of Montrose, back before Argyll's dominance had pushed Montrose out of the Covenanter regime.

The Earl of Huntly therefore met Montrose's inducement to join him warmly, glad to finally be a part of a Royalist faction within Scotland. Not only was the city of Aberdeen handed to Montrose without a fight, George Gordon, Huntly's son, and 800 Gordon troops would join Montrose's growing army, bringing his force to around 5500 men.

September 17th: The Aberdeen Campaign

With Covenanter army of unknown size marching north to defeat him, Montrose had a decision to make. On the one hand, if he wanted to inspire a general Royalist rebellion within Scotland, it was necessary that he prove he could defend his allies. Defending Gordon territory around Aberdeen would help to convince others who resented Argyll or the Covenant that the traitorous regime's hold on power was not absolute. On the other hand, Montrose's army was likely smaller than the force coming to meet him. Whilst defending Gordon territory was important, keeping the Royalist cause in Scotland alive was his actual remit from King Charles.

Deciding not to risk a direct confrontation, Montrose and his forces garrisoned Aberdeen. Yet when Argyll arrived a week later at the head of 8000 men, he had a problem on his hands. The year's campaign season was almost over, with insufficient time to properly establish a siege of Aberdeen before the winter set in. An assault didn't seem likely to succeed, yet he couldn't afford for Montrose to maintain Aberdeen throughout the winter, as it would doubtless prove a base of reinforcement and resupply for a campaign the following year.

Fortunately Argyll, the Covenanter regime had seen fit to confiscate most of Aberdeen's food supplies following the town's previous rebellion, meaning the Royalists would need to ration their food. Intending to exacerbate the problem, Argyll ordered many of his men to fan out throughout Aberdeenshire, intercepting recently reaped harvests before they could make their way to Gordon foodstores.

On the 28th of September, perceiving an opportunity to defeat his enemy whilst their forces were divided, Montrose set out to attack. Leaving Aberdeen under the cover of night, Montrose's army attacked Argyll's Covenanter force in a dawn raid where they made camp near a bend in the river Dee, 10km south-west of Aberdeen. In the early fighting it seemed Montrose's men had established a decisive advantage, with many Covenanters being cut down or fleeing before they could find their arms and make ranks.
Yet enough veterans came together to form a block in the middle of their camp that bought panicked men time to recover, even beginning to push Montrose's forces back. The decisive moment of the battle came with the late arrival of MacColla's gaels, who set about burning and looting undefended sections of the camp. This prompted many of the greener Covenanters to break and flee, leaving the veteran core exposed. Rather than risk being butchered, these Scots surrendered.

The result was a disaster for the Covenanters, their army completely eliminated as a fighting force. Of their original 8000 men, some 300 were killed, and 2000 more were taken prisoners. Whilst survivors would gradually regather under the Covenanter banner, they would not do so quickly enough to make a showing in 1644; Montrose's pocket of Royalist support was safe for now. And with that safety began a slow trickle of supporters, as those alienated by the Covenanter regime or who feared Charles' retribution began to declare openly for the king. The first of these was the Earl of Atholl, whose episcopalian leanings had lead to his political alienation from the Covenanter regime, though more would join them before the campaign season of 1645 began.

Although Montrose was quick to paint his victory at the River Dee as a victory over all Scotland, he was not in quite so dominant a position as his boasts. By mid October, Argyll had successfully rallied many of the troops who had fled at the River Dee and was garrisoned in Stirling Castle. By virtue of their strict adherence to Presbyterianism, most of the Scottish Lowlands still supported the Covenanter government, and that was unlikely to change with winter fast approaching. Yet in late October, Montrose could be forgiven for his optimism - in the four months since Marston Moor, he had seemingly restablished Royalism as a serious force in Scottish politics. So, how had he done it?

The first major consideration in Montrose's success was in the unpopularity of Archibald Campbell, the Marquiss of Argyll, who was the de facto head of Scottish government. Owing his political power to Campbell dominance in the Scottish highlands and his work with the English Parliament during the Bishops Wars and the forming of the Solemn League and Covenant, Argyll had accrued a reputation for corruption and general self-interest that left many wondering that he might have aspirations of claiming the throne for himself. For those who were on the out with Argyll, Montrose presented a much more appealing alternative than ongoing Campbell dominance. Perhaps equally importantly, he had totally failed in his remit to defend Scotland - what was the point of accepting Argyll's protection, if enemy armies were able to operate unchecked in Scotland anyway?

A second consideration was the war with King Charles, and the alliance with Parliament. Although Scotland had seemed poised to make a decisive contribution to the English Civil War at Marston Moor, by the end of 1644 King Charles appeared to be in a dominant position, with Essex's army bottled up in Taunton and a strong Royalist army just outside London. With the imposition of a Presbyterian settlement on the king appearing unlikely, many Scots hoped that a repositioning of Scotland as a loyal realm would win them concessions from the King once peace was finally secured.

And to his credit, Montrose encouraged this belief. At Perth and Aberdeen, Montrose had positioned the King, and himself by proxy, as champions of the constitutional victories enjoyed by Scotland over 1639-1640. According to Montrose, Charles was prepared to offer generous concessions to his loyal subjects, the implication being that even the removal of bishops was on the table. Working in the background here was Henrietta Maria, who had joined her husband in the siege camps of Taunton, and who had quickly reasserted herself as a key figure in the Royalist court . The court's orders to Montrose reflect the queen's belief that promises to heretics meant nothing, and with Charles co-ordinating the Reading campaign he allowed his advisors unusual leeway in acting on his behalf. Montrose was therefore allowed the flexibility to offer concessions that Charles himself might not have approved - indeed, Charles would prove less than enthusiastic about abolishing bishops in the winter's peace talks, allowing Argyll to start the following campaign season in a position that was not entirely hopeless.

___

East Anglia, Cambridgeshire and The North

August 12th:
The Parliamentarians scored a decisive victory against 3000 troopers serving under George Goring at King's Lynn.

August 21st: John Lilburne is elected MP for Cambridgeshire in a recruiter election for the seat left vacant by Oliver Cromwell's death at Marston Moor. Lilburne owed much of his political capital to his recent victory at King's Lynn, which was seen as justice by many of the electors, whose lands had been ravaged by Rupert's host already.

September 3rd: A Royalist sally lead by Marmaduke Langdale attacked the Scottish camps surrounding York, inflicting high casualties. Coordinating with Langdale from outside was Sir Charles Lucas, who had been recruiting and gathering supplies from Yorkshire and Lancashire. Although the Scots were able to regain control after aid was sent by Lord Fairfax, the Royalists were able to smuggle food and supplies into the city. The next day, perceiving that their numbers were too few to maintain the siege, Lord Fairfax and David Leslie agreed to break off the siege, with Fairfax garissoning Selby, Hull and Leeds, and Leslie marching north to Newcastle.

September 5th: The Battle of Peterborough

Parliamentary troopers caught up to Rupert's cavalry upon the banks of the River Nene in the late afternoon, enabling Lilburne to force a battle. With approximately 5000 cavalry each, it was the largest battle fought exclusively by cavalry of the civil war.

The battle was a stalemate, as though William Packer was triumphant on the Parliamentary left, Henry Ireton was defeated on the Parliamentary right. This meant that Parliament no longer had the Royalists pinned against the river, and with dusk approaching, the Royalists escaped north.

Fewer than 300 troopers died on either side.

September 6th: Newcastle sent several thousand infantry on a lightning march north to intercept the last 3000 Scots to leave the siege at York. The Scots dissolved in their rout, though some 1200 would gather in Hull under Lord Balmerino, and most of the rest to the siege at Newcastle.

September 12th: The Earl of Manchester, commanding the foot of the Eastern Association, received a suggestion from John Lilburne that he funnel Rupert's army towards Manchester, so that they could smash it in a pincer movement.

September 22nd: The Earl of Manchester's infantry contested the crossing of Rupert's cavalry at Spalding. Rupert's third wave established a substantial beachhead, allowing them to force Manchester's army back. Although Manchester was able to avoid a complete disaster through a retreat which made skilled use of the local wetlands, a little over three thousand Parliamentarians were caught on the wrong side of a canal and surrendered. Worse, Rupert's army was able to escape to the west - John Lilburne would not be able to engage it again before the end of the campaign season.

October 5th: John Lilburne is ordered by the Committee of Both Kingdoms to withdraw his forces to London, to defend it from the encroaching army of the King. King Charles' siege of Reading had been established on October 3rd.

October 15th: Rupert begins to besiege a few Midlands settlements, consolidating the Royalist link between Wales in the west, and Oxford in the East. Plans for an army to assemble at Worcester the following Spring are developed, in the event that the peace talks with Parliament fail.

October 17th: The same day that Reading falls and the Scottish Perth Parliament meets, John Lilburne's army arrives to garrison London.

___

Parliament's campaigns of The North and East Anglia in the latter half of 1644 are best characterized by their disunity. Despite the stalemate at Marston Moor, the Parliamentarian position in the North had remained strong - they had three armies besieging York with Newcastle bottled up inside. Yet the Royalists were able to save York through attacking the Covenanter and Eastern Association home regions, forcing John Lilburne and Alexander Leslie to respond to Royalist activity rather than preempting it, leaving the Fairfax father-son duo alone to contend with Newcastle.

With the exception of John Lilburne's victory at King's Lynn, the campaign season was a failure on all Parliamentarian fronts. Montrose's Scots had won half of Scotland to the king's banner, Rupert had successfully evaded Lilburne, Newcastle retained York, and King Charles was threatening London. Yet whilst this outwardly looked to be a Parliamentary failure, John Lilburne and the Independents were only too keen to place the blame on the Presbyterians.

According to Lilburne, he and the Independents had won their contributions to the war, successfully holding at Marston Moor and bringing victory at King's Lynn. The Fairfaxes had at least avoided defeat in the North. But everywhere the Presbyterians commanded, Parliament was defeated. Essex's army was starving behind the Walls of Taunton, William Waller's relief army had been crushed, and Manchester had allowed Rupert to slip from his grasp, losing half of his army to boot.

But the problem John Lilburne and the Independents of the army faced in October 1644 was that just as they were popular among the radical Independents of London's outer wards, so too were they feared among the Presbyterian nobility and gentry. It was well understood by the Parliamentary elite that John Lilburne intended to upend the social order - and so they took methods against him.

The first on the 18th of October was Parliament's appointment of Major General Browne to command the London Trained Bands, in Philip Skipon's absence. This was a provocative move as Brown would insist that in the event that Charles marched on the city, they would be commanded independently of Lilburne's troops.

The second, coming on the 27th of October, was the formal announcement of peace talks, to take place at Uxbridge beginning on November 7th. A large peace faction had developed over the latter half of 1644. Some of these men were Presbyterians who believed that they had no way to achieve victory in the war, and would therefore be best served by appealing to the king's mercy. Others believed that it was important that they end the war right away, so that Lilburne's radical troops could be disbanded before they could produce any real harm to the social order.

On the 29th of October, Lilburne summoned a general meeting of officers and friends of the Independent cause at the Whalebone on Lothbury St in central London, to address the impending possibility for peace. It appears that this meeting was something of an attempt at reaching out on the part of John Lilburne, as a greater variety of men were present than usual. Some historians have argued that the mood in London was one that viewed peace as a certainty - Lilburne was therefore desperate, and was eager for a solution that would prevent the war ending, even if the Presbyterians made a deal with Charles. Others have contested that Lilburne had not yet completed his own radicalisation, and so was not yet the First Citizen he would become. In either case, the army would commit to a conservative position that sought the removal of King Charles, rather than an abolition of the monarchy entirely.

Pastor John Goodwin, minister to the haven of Independents that was St Stephens, was credited with mediating disputes between stout Congregationalists such as Hugh Peter, or radical Seperatists like Roger Williams. Hugh Peter and Roger Williams were old rivals, having debated the proper form of the churches of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Hugh Peter's Congregationalist model posited a loose affiliation of independent churches, which would be self governed providing they adhered to a basic set of uniform principles, like Trinitarianism and predestination. Williams' demand meanwhile was for full toleration, arguing that an individual's responsibility to God was too important for any laws of man to ever get in the way, and that the civil authorities therefore had no business intruding on an individual's conscience. Goodwin's compromise was to remind the theologians that both of them would be victim to the same Presbyterian tyranny if they didn't first come together to win the war.

Over the next week, the Independents set about their preparations for the sabotague of the Royalist-Presbyterian peace summit at Uxbridge.
 

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Apologies for the late post. I really wanted to have all the pieces lined up for what comes next. Uxbridge and its fallout will form the framing of the next year of war, which I intend to cover as newspapers so as to cover time more quickly.

Note that the new map entirely replaces the old one, rather than merely following up on it. The Northern/Scottish campaigns turned out different to my initial sketches.

@SilentSpaniard: Thanks for the kind words!

@NedStark: We don't have to wait quite that long for consequences!
 
A Meeting with the Elector Palatine
It were better one family should be destroyed than many - Henry Marten

Whitehall Palace was well guarded. No small few Presbyterians were living and working inside the complex, and so a few dozen men were kept to patrol the grounds and man the walls and entrances. Those guards weren't just to keep Royalists and rabble like Richard out, though - they were meant to keep certain people inside.

The flaw in the Whitehall security was in the servant's entrances and quarters. Richard and some of the Bradford men had caught up with palace servants as they went about their duties in town, or as they prayed at gathered churches. It hadn't been difficult to convince a number of servants to help out - their masters might be supportive of yet another reppressive church, but they were men and women of conscience. They'd seen to it that Richard and his men had what they needed to get inside.

He only found what he was looking for because he'd been told to look for a few lighter coloured wooden panels. The servant's door was almost perfectly camoflagued, with only a thin crease around it and a few newer wooden panels giving it away. He offered a quick prayer to God that He might make the day bloodless. He knocked on it slowly three times, then quickly four times, before taking a step back.

He heard the door being unbarred on the other side before it swung open, a guard in a bright silk uniform standing in the now open doorway.

"And you are?" The guard gave him a scanning look, so Richard made sure to avert his eyes down, as he figured a tailor might when confronted with a large, sour-tempered man.

"I'm a tailor, sir. Here to take the measurements for one lady Tate." The lady's husband was Zouch Tate, a rare Presbyterian member of parliament who still supported the war, and was willing to open a few Presbyterian doors for them.

The guard furrowed his brow, a hand dropping to his swordhilt, sizing Richard up as a potential foe. "Another? She's had a string of tailors in and out all week, but never with any clothes that might back up their claims. Where are your credentials, then?"

Richard made a show of reaching for a pocket at his breast, producing a folded piece of paper and handing it to the man, who opened it and began to scan intently.

"The lady has been seeking to redress her household staff, sir." He offered by way of explanation. "I suspect the others may be my competition. I pray that you let me in, so that I might yet win the contract." He tried to sound frustrated and important. "I am already two days behind!"

Technically, Richard was a tailor by patrimony, and would be allowed to practice tailoring in his own right. Nevertheless, the credentials he carried were forgeries, albeit excellent ones, being made by Sexby on paper from Whitehall itself. He knelt casually as if to adjust his boots, hands near to the dagger that was hidden by his shin. He took a deep breath, envisioning how he'd kill the man. The doorway into the building was two steps high, so the guard towered over Richard. He'd need to go for the ankle first.

"Very well then," the guard sighed, extending the forgeries back to Richard, which he took with only a slight tremble. The man took a step inside the door to let Richard pass. No sooner was he through the door and around a corner than he let his breath out, a wave of nervous tension rising in him in a dry retch. He didn't feel suited to this. The battlefield was easy, God's will always clear. He knew that Providence meant for Richard to meet Lilburne, to be his hand in some manner. He just hadn't expected that it would involve so much uncertainty. His instincts were honed for death rather than discourse.

What didn't bother him so much was that the plan was, to hear the gentry tell it, 'debasing.' Ireton, Packer and Whalley wanted nothing to do with a plan that involved sneaking around in servant's clothes. Nevermind that the servant's door was just an entrypoint. Once inside, he followed the directions a Joan had given him after they'd shared communion, finding his way into a room used by servants to wash up throughout the day. Lying amid an array of uniforms fit for maids, cooks, gardeners and manservants was an ensign's uniform, a red coat with white facings, save for two at the sleeve which were Bradford indigo. He was studying the inlaid lions when a voice called out to him from behind, belonging to a well-built man he didn't recognise.

"You there, tailor?" Perhaps it was just Richard's nerves, but he thought he might have heard Taylor. "Can you spare a moment? My master requires a last minute adjustment and, well, it's very hard to find good work at the moment." He gestured towards the uniform that Richard had been admiring. "Yours, I trust? Suitable. Follow me, please."

Either the work was his, or he'd need to think of a lie that might put him there in that room. Which meant-

"Yes," he said, not entirely convincing himself. "But I'm afraid You've caught me at a bad time I- I'm terribly short for time. Per-"

"I am afraid this matter is quite pressing. My master allows that I may compel you, if necessary." He stood just a foot from Richard, now gesturing to the room's exit.

"Very well, but this must be quick, you understand?" He began walking, the man stepping in just in front of him. Perhaps he should knock the man out, or run? He was searching for something blunt to do that work with when a thought occurred to him: they were going the right way.

God's hand was yet on him. His heart slowed its rapid pace with the knowledge.

Turning out from the warren of narrow corridors and facilities that made up the servant's quarters into the much broader main corridor, Richard was struck by its beauty, and he had to fight the urge to gape. The walls, where they were not interrupted by doors, were laden with art - of portraits of past kings, of scenes of past battles, of things left behind when Charles had fled the city. The carpet was of vibrant reds, blues, and yellows: of cochineal, indigo and indian yellow; expensive dyes from Mexico and India. White marble pillars bore aloft a great painted ceiling, and though Richard could not quite discern it, he thought that it might perhaps be an idolatrous depiction of a Popish saint.

They reached the chambers of the Elector Palatine, Richard noting with a small flutter of relief that his Presbyterian guards were missing. He was let into a reception room where he was 'invited' to stand straight, arms extended, so that he might be patted for weapons. He cringed as the manservant found his dagger, though if the man was surprised to find it he acted better than Richard did, his expression remaining impassive. When the man was done, he gestured for Richard to sit.

Richard was exactly where he wanted to be, just not as he'd intended. He was supposed to meet the Elector Palatine dressed smartly and on his own terms, not summoned like a pet. It was a stain on the army's dignity, for him to be so dressed for such important work. Still, it did not change the facts. The army needed Charles Louis.

Eventually the manservant returned to gesture him through to a room strewn with furniture, a small corner of which was occupied by a pair of upholstered chairs arranged around small table. The table was made from a rich dark wood, upon which sat an ornate gilded tin, a ceramic tray full of ash and a burning match, and a still smoking pipe. Seated at the table was a man with brown eyes and black hair. Well dressed, but not majestic.

Still, Richard bowed. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, your majesty." Richard noticed the man's left eyebrow rise.

"Oh, is that what has happened here? Dispense the fiction. My man already found your blade." He seemed to take some cheer in Richard's surprise. "Do sit, though. I've a few questions to run by you before my men take their turn."

Leaving Richard in tension, Charles Louis leaned forward in his chair, emptying his pipe into the tray, opening the tin, retrieving fresh tobacco leaf, and packing his pipe to take three steady draws. Richard understood that he was being given enough rope to hang himself with, that he was supposed to start seeking mercy. He wouldn't do it. Grovelling was far beneath the army's dignity, and therefore beneath his as representative.

"I'm not an assassin, your majesty."

The assassin rumour hadn't been their idea, though Sexby had suggested that they amplify the message through an anonymous pamphlet. If Charles Louis thought the Presbyterians might assassinate him, he'd have all the more reason to seek Independent protection.

"It is rather my honour to convey you to your loyal army."

"My army, is it? The Presbyterians have no need of me. The Fairfaxes, perhaps? No, the Fairfaxs aren't men of politics. John Lilburne is." He returned to puffing his pipe.

Charles Louis hadn't been everyone's first choice. What mattered was that he was their only choice.

"Yes, your majesty. It is the opinion of both learned men and John Lilburne's army that Charles Stuart has acted unlawfully in the prosecution of the war, most seriously in the inducement of a foreign Catholic Irish army to invade England. As the nearest blood of the kings of England that is not so tainted by treachery, we intend to proclaim you King Charles II of England."

"Oh, you intend to proclaim me, do you? Am I to be a barracks emperor, spitting on the law and ruling by the sword? I would surely need to be, if I was to make common cause with the butchers of King's Lynn. Why would I accept so flimsy a crown?"

Richard frowned. Despite everything, he took objection. Pride overcame his nerves.

"England's crown is not flimsy, your majesty, only the man who wears it."

"Yes," Charles Louis said in a flat tone, as if Richard had rather missed the point. "Quite. But no doubt you can understand my hesitance to tie myself to the fate of an outnumbered, outsupplied army, which exists in service to a faction which will cease to exist in a week? What hope does this army of yours have, except that it might lose me my head?"

"Your majesty, my father was a soldier before me. He raised me on stories of Elizabethan heroes - of Sir Francis Drake and his raids against Spain, in the fear and disorder that they did sew into the hearts of the vile arch-Catholics. England had been a proper home, then, a place to be proud of. We ruled the seas and fought for the Protestant cause. But that was Elizabeth's day, before the Stuarts did come from out of Scotland. England has not been home for brave Godly men since. We have been weak, as a mere gnat next the bloated mass that is Catholic Europe. Gone are our victories, replaced with failures. My father died for the Reformation at La Rochelle, betrayed by that man of blood who would rather marry a French Catholic than fight one."

He leaned forward, intent.

"Your Majesty, I bid that you look me in the eyes. Trust me when I tell you that I, Richard Taylor, will be your loyal servant, if only you agree to make England home again. Home for brave freeborn English men, men of pride and conscience. There are another fifteen thousand like me ready to so swear in London. In turn you need only swear the Free Oath, and be our king."

Charles Louis stared at Richard long after he'd finished speaking, seeking evidence that Richard was not who he claimed to be.

"Suppose that I would rather a more well-ordered Church?"

"His majesty would regrettably remain his grace." Charles Louis raised another eyebrow, his body language otherwise unexcited.

"Well, Taylor." He definitely meant it as a name, though Richard could not remember giving it. "You do have my interest, and my ear. Convince me that John Lilburne can win."
 
I am loving this story, keep it up! I am usually not a big fan of a first person perspective and much prefer a historical narrative, Richard is written very well and really suplements the wider narrative.
 
The Uxbridge Declaration
The mood felt right to Edward Hyde as he took the lead in the Royalist procession, through the great oak doors of Selby house and into the hastily renovated great hall that might've served as a ballroom or feasthall in more peaceful times. Two sets of benches were arranged on either side of a long table, with room enough for the 20 official delegates of either side, in addition to a number of smaller tables for their aides and the inevitable development of subcommittees.

The Uxbridge peace negotiations represented Hyde's foremost political victory. He had been advocating for a mixed monarchy settlement comprised of King, Commons and Lords working together since before the outbreak of the war, and the peace talks represented a mutual commitment to a constitutional settlement between King Charles and his English subjects. The Scots weren't invited: the Covenanters were not seeking peace given their weak negotiating position, and Montrose's Royalists sought no concessions they hadn't already been promised. Even better, a large army of almost exclusively English Royalists was camped a little over 20 miles away at Reading - the Parliamentarians had to know that their only realistic choice was accepting whatever terms could be agreed upon.

Once both processions had found their seats, Hyde stood to give the commencement address.

"It is my privilege and honour this day to welcome the representatives of England here to Uxbridge, as we gather under the auspices of God and of peace. I thank each of you for your attendance, for in coming here you have shown a commitment to bringing this woeful national quarrell and its manifold butcheries, innovations, subversions and sects to an end. Today we begin the great work of mending England, bringing the kingdom once more under the guidance of God and his lieutenant on Earth, King Charles Stuart."

He paused for a moment for the applause, which was too enthusiastic to merely be polite, to subside. John Birkenhead of the Royalist newsbook Mercurius Aulicus had spent the last several months ensuring that when Hyde spoke of butcheries and sects, the Parliamentarians understood that he spoke of John Lilburne and his army of upjumped apprentice radicals.

"Before I invite Lord Denzil Holles to commence these negotiations for the betterment and peace of the realm, I would like to invite Nathaniel Hardy to lead us in prayer."

Hyde sat back down, Hardy standing to replace him near the head of the table. Despite being a Royalist delegate at the talks, Hardy was a known Presbyterian preacher. Since it was clear that the success of the peace talks hinged on a religious settlement, Hyde had thought it prudent to offer such a show of good faith. Though an Episcopalian himself, keeping the illiterate spinsters of London's Independent sects away from the pulpit was more important to him than the precise role of bishops in the Anglican Church.

When Hardy finished reading from the Book of Common Prayer, the leader of the Parliamentary delegation, Denzil Holles took his place. Holles had lead the abortive Parliamentary peace faction back in 1643, and he and Hyde had shared no few letters in preparing the talks.

"Firstly, that all Members of Parliament and their duly appointed officers be pardoned for any actions taken in the pursuit of war, excepting those who have spoken or acted with deliberate malice against the king or the constitution of England."

Hyde let a small smile curl his lips. Parliament had made several strident lists of demands over the course of the war requiring that key Royalists be brought to trial. That they acknowledged it would be their own peers facing justice spoke well of the Royalist position.

"Secondly, that whilst it has been the sole prerogative of the crown to raise armies, appoint commanders and declare wars without consultation, and whereas it has been the habit of such armies to be funded by means other than legal Parliamentary taxation, be it by sundry fines or shipmoney charged even in corners of the kingdom that are without harbours; Parliament should henceforth be consulted on all matters concerning the defence of the kingdom, including but not limited to..."

There were a number of lines Charles had said he wouldn't cross, and surrendering control of the military was one of them. Though the Parliamentarians were perhaps presumptuous to ask for such a significant concession given the weakness of their position, there was perhaps some wiggle room. If Hyde could find a Royalist commander who was well regarded by the Presbyterians, they might be able to skip a consultatation that Charles felt was contrary to his royal prerogatives.

Holles continued "Thirdly, that the Church of England shall be brought into the nearest uniformity with that of the Church of Scotland, and that King Charles shall swear the Solemn League and Covenant, so that the realms of England, Scotland and Ireland be unified under a single Presbyterian Church."

He had to stifle a sigh at that. Whilst Hyde and other Royalist delegates might've been prepared to discuss the matter of bishops, Charles himself took after his father. King James had said "No Bishop, No King," by which he meant bishops were essential to the security of royal authority. Whilst Hyde believed he could convince Charles to accept a change to the role of bishops, the requirement that Charles himself swear by Presbyters would require much more work.

* * *

Rather than miring himself in the minutia of subcommittees that had developed to discuss the fate of the army and the church, Hyde had taken to speaking with Holles directly after hours, since both men were prevented from speaking candidly in public. Hyde had to stick with Charles' demands, else he would forfeit his position as a royal delegate, and Holles had to seek a leinient Presbyterian settlement, else the Parliamentary war party may regain support. Alone, they could cut through the bullshit.

"And where are we on the matter of the army?" Holles asked, leaning forward in his chair to pick up a set of silver tongs, pinching off a small section of sugar loaf to add to his hot chocolate.

"As you know, the king guards all of his prerogatives carefully. He will not agree to consult on army appointments as a matter of principle. I have however passed along your suggestion that Ralph Hopton be considered for a position of greater esteem."

Holles sipped from his ceramic cup, his face momentarily contorting in pleasure before resuming a diplomatic neutrality. "And?"

"And he's prepared to consider it. Hopton's army besieging Taunton is the King's third largest in the field, and Digby has made sure that Rupert's underwhelming performance in East Anglia has cost him some of the king's favour. The queen doesn't like Hopton, as he's far too vocally anti-Catholic - though that matter is doubtless in our favour. My delegates like that he's an Episcopalian, and yours appreciate his work fighting in Bohemia. He's a good pick, Holles. You should thank your man for suggesting him."

Though Hyde had carefully obfuscated his role in the matter, Hopton had been his own first pick for a compromise military figure. He had arranged the release of William Waller, who had been captured after the battle of Sparkford earlier that year, precisely because he was an old friend and advocate for Hopton. Waller had spent the last fortnight advocating for their mutual friend without any direct prompting from Hyde.

Holles let out a snort of frustration.

"You've said much the same thing before, Hyde, but if we're to make any actual progress here we need actual terms. We can't live off maybes and promises forever - the king needs to make up his mind! I don't know what Lilburne is planning, but he isn't sitting idle.

"And he is, Holles, he is. There any just many voices in his ear, and some are louder than others. Queen Henrietta Maria barks for negotiations to be replaced by hangings and for a new Irish army to be raised, and Rupert would much rather the king turn his attentions to plans for next year's campaigns. I write to his majesty as often as I've anything new to say, but the matters here have become the king's second priority. Why win a negotiation when he can simply win the war? If we want the king to come around on Hopton, we need to make it easy for him."

* * *

Richard shivered, the cool evening breeze cutting through his threadbare linen shirt. He stood near a short pier surrounded by a dozen of his men, huddled around a small fire for warmth, dirt covering their faces, as if waiting for the ferryman to pole on by.

"Y-you know, Richard" Sam stammered, "You must be the only officer in the army that has it worse than the enlisted. Most people get better clothes when they're promoted."

"Oh I wouldn't say that it's all that bad, Sam. At least we get a warm glow in our gut, knowing that we're saving England," Harry added, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Is that what that is?" Wat interjected with a quick laugh. "I was worried maybe I'd caught the shits from that peasant's porridge. There were more rats in that barn than hay, you shoulda seen-"

Richard raised a fist, and the men went silent again. "Remember, lads, we're refugees. Poor. Weak. Hungry. We don't have any officers, and we don't laugh. We're far too meek for that."

Silence made for a boring wait, but it had never bothered Richard much. He had always found that the silences before action were the best times to speak with God, and to divine His purpose. For example, what were his intentions regarding the civil war? If He intended to have it draw to a close, then He could certainly see it done. He could guide the Godly to make peace directly, or perhaps Richard and his men could be scattered by wind or rain. Their intelligence could be faulty, and so their target could fail to appear, having taken another path, bridge or ferry. He could arrive too heavily armed, too well guarded.

He didn't, though. When he arrived just a few hours after he was expected, William Waller was dressed for warmth rather than combat, save for a sword at his hip. He rode with just three other men, all of them dismounting to see to their horses. They kept their distance from Richard and the Bradford crew, becoming wrapped up in their own conversation. Richard added a fresh batch of wood to the fire, moist branches and leaves billowing a thick cloud of smoke.

It was about 10 minutes before the ferry arrived, a broad flat-bottomed boat with a shallow keel. Richard hung back, allowing Waller and his escort to approach the ferryman first. Coins changed hands, and the gentry's horses were carefully lead onto the ferry, an offer of hay being necessary to coax one of the mounts onto the craft, which bobbed slightly with each equine step. The gentry soon followed, occupying much of the rest of the watercraft.

With Waller aboard, the ferryman turned to Richard and his crew, arms and fingers waving as he counted them, the numbers beyond eight replaced with loud tuts. He shook his head.

"Twelve is too many with horses. Only eight may cross. You choose eight, or you all stay."

They made a brief show of arguing amongst themselves before eight of them produced the penny toll, all but forcing the coins into the ferryman's hands before they boarded the craft.

"No no!" the ferryman called, exhasperated. "You must balance the craft! You two left, you two right!" He weaved between them, directing Richard and Harry to the middle port side of the craft, shoulder to shoulder with one of Waller's guards, who took the opportunity to push him roughly. "Mind yourself," he spat. Richard turned away from the man, worried that his face wasn't meek enough.

A few more corrections later, the ferryman was ready to pole off, a single push bringing them about two yards out into the water. Richard watched as his men ripped up the tarpaulin left beside the fire, retrieving the muskets left below and beginning to load.

"Ambush!" one of the guards yelled, another echoing him with a scornful laugh. Richard noticed the man who had bumped him reach for the sword at his belt, only to give up when he realised he didn't have nearly enough room to swing it. Instead he made a quick jab at Richard's face, catching Richard in the nose and leaving him momentarily stunned. Harry intervened before the man's other fist could find Richard, pinning one arm to his side in a low wrestler's grip. Recovering, Richard stepped in behind the guard brought his right foot down hard behind his knee, forcing him to the boat's deck, allowing Harry to adjust his grip to the man's neck.

"Pole out, you swine!"

Richard turned to see Waller, sword extended towards the ferryman's neck. "Pole out or I will gut you where you stand."

The ferryman, a Bradford veteran very much in on their plot, didn't flinch.

"Kill me and you'll be shot, Waller. Don't be stupid." Sure enough, the four men left on shore had their muskets raised. Though the ambushers on the ferry had brought Waller's guards to the deck to open up their line of sights, the horses ensured that misses weren't impossible, despite the meagre distance.

"This doesn't have to end badly for you, Waller." Richard said. "You have fought for Parliament and for England. With God as my witness, I will see that no further harm comes to you or your men if you continue that fight."

Waller's sword clattered to the deck.

* * *

"But Ussher, a bishop who serves as an equal to church elders can hardly even be called a bishop. The prelates must be held above the laity for the good order of the church."

"But bishops and elders are the same thing! In Acts 20:17,28, Paul speaks of the same men both as bishops and as elders. Acts 14:23 holds that the elders are elected and equal to one another, and in Acts 1:21-26 Jesus, as head of the church, chooses Matthias to replace Judas as apostle, but not before he has been nominated by his congregation. It is right for the bishops and elders to be held in equal esteem, for they are regarded as such in scripture."

Hyde thumbed the letter in his pocket as the Subcommittee for Religion once more devolved into scriptural quotes that he couldn't follow. He understood that James Ussher stood for a formulation of 'primitive bishops.' According to Ussher, primitive bishops lay somewhere between the Royalist Episcopalianism and the Parliamentary Presbyterianism, and was most in line with scriptural teaching. Bishops, he said, had the same roles and authorities of elected elders, only their appointment was to be by the head of the church. In practice, he said, King Charles would have the prerogative to appoint a number of bishops to an otherwise elected synod of presbyters. In theory, both sides would get what they wanted. In practice, neither group appeared entirely happy with Ussher's formulation.

Hyde had not yet opened the king's response to his last letter, which had explained the Subcommittee's slowly emerging position. In his heart, he knew that Charles wouldn't agree to 'primitive' bishops unless forced to, and there was not nearly enough consensus to move the hand of a king.

A loud knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, a soldier rushing through a moment later. The man scanned the room and, upon spotting Hyde, moved to approach him - only for the doors to burst open behind him. A series of trumpets tooted a regal sounding tune, a herald announcing "His Grace Charles Louis, the Elector Palatine", followed shortly by "Lieutenant General of the Horse, John Lilburne."

Charles Louis, Lilburne, and half a dozen other men trotted in on white stallions, the Elector Palatine wearing royal purple.

"Denzil Holles," Lilburne began, footsoldiers fanning out to fill the room behind him. "You are hereby arrested upon suspicion of treason, for conspiring to induce the improper surrender of a duly appointed English commander" As if to underline the point, Hyde noted William Waller ahorse behind Lilburne.

Hyde sought to call for guards, for decorum, for something, but there was nobody to call for. Security for the peace talks was thin by design, neither set of officials trusting their protection to the other.

"Furthermore, on behalf of the people of England, and of its Parliament, I do declare that King Charles Stuart, resulting from attempts to rule without the elected Parliament of England and in the waging of war against its people, has abdicated the right to the English throne, as Richard the Second before him; and henceforth, that Charles Louis, being the nearest heir not stained by tyranny, be the true and rightful sovereign of England."

___

Well, that post really didn't want to get written.

Historiographic voice with an outline of immediate consequences and some edits (dates, mostly) to follow tomorrow - for now I am to bed.
 
I have never really given attention to this period in English history before but this has really sparked my interest. Any good beginning resources you can recommend?
 
@Jito I agree with the suggestion of the Revolutions podcast - it was my own introduction to the English Civil War, and hence the ultimate inspiration of this timeline. It is definitely a useful entry point since it covers some of the necessary background but isn't so detailed as to become confusing.

For those interested in a lot more detail, I would recommend the Early Stuart England Podcast, by Greg Koabel. Season 2 starts at the beginning of the English Civil War, however if you crave even more context I think it is worth going back to episode 84, A New Book, which is about the series of events which prompt the Bishops Wars, and hence the English Civil War. This timeline began at the equivalent of episode 2.21, Marston Moor, and the show is building up to the first Anglo-Dutch war.

The Noble Revolt by John Adamson is supposed to be the gold standard for parsing the English Civil War... but I haven't been able to get ahold of a copy!
 
I don't think anyone of the Levellers would bother to execute Charles Louis, Lilburne's own candidate, and proclaim a republic.

For a Leveller Commonwealth to exist as stated at the beginning, Charles Louis must be dead, in a different way.

IOTL, the Parliamentarians did not want to execute Charles I and kept trying to negotiate. It was Charles I who pushed the Army to that point by keeping escaping from imprisonment and waging wars, thus proving that for the war to end he must die.
 
@NedStark I agree with your speculation, Charles Louis can't be executed... or at least that can't be the public/popular understanding of how he dies.

A big part of Parliament's hesitance to execute King Charles was that they had class interest. The nobility and gentry of England didn't like radical rhetoric or the prospect of significant change, because they feared that the poor in the army would get ideas, and be in a position to implement them. Oliver Cromwell actively sought to contain the more radical aspects of the army, and so it took Charles being a moron for the radicals to gain the political capital to execute him. It will take comparatively less of Charles' stubborness to get him executed in this timeline, given that Lilburne will be fanning the flames rather than dousing them.
 
The post will be late this week. Since my history of guessing when I'll make posts is not good, I will simply post it when it is ready.
 
The Presbyterian Coup and Self Denying Ordinance
N.B: Hereafter, I will refer to Charles Louis by his German baptismal name of Karl, and he will be given the nominal regnal name of Karl II. This is to avoid confusion with King Charles I and his son who will later be King Charles II, since this timeline hardly needs three King Charles.

On the 2nd of December, 1644, the Uxbridge peace talks were interrupted by a group of Independent and northern gentry who claimed to be belated delegates to the peace talks, with approval from Parliament. Though their over-grand entrance was allegedly intended only as a service to Karl II's royal Majesty, it wasn't viewed as such in the moment. Painting the display as an act of military aggression, Presbyterians and Royalists sought to exclude the Independent arrivals, however they lacked the physical means or willpower to do so. Though not all the delegates had approval from Parliament, all were duly elected MPs, save for Karl himself, who was protected by the ambiguity of his royal status.

The purpose of the Independent Uxbridge delegation was to present a viable alternative to peace with King Charles, and so prevent the Presbyterians from making peace with him. They feared a scenario in which the Presbyterians and Royalists made a peacedeal which would force the disbandment of Lilburne's army, snuffing out their hopes for a religious settlement that would grant them freedom of conscience. Since the army was largely viewed as full of dangerous radicals by the good opinion of the realm, it was understood by the Independent MPs, and pushed by lawyer John Selden, that they needed to make a move in the conservative direction if they were to win back alienated members. Selden had argued that King Karl II was the solution to their radical image problem, and sought to provide a pretext by which he might take the crown. Fortunately for Parliament, they had already used a Richard II precedent back in 1640 in a bid to force Charles to open what would become the Long Parliament. Favouring a version of history that emphasised a comparison with the 1399 Convention Parliament, the Independents argued that just as that Parliament had crowned a king, so too could the current Parliament crown their own.

In practice, Karl II's debut fell flat. The problem wasn't with the principal of an Independent-monarchist alliance, but rather the context of their arrival. The Presbyterian and Royalist delegates had been largely self-selected due to their personal commitment to peace between Englishmen of proper means. In this sense, the Uxbridge talks can be understood as a direct response to the massacre of King's Lynn and the election and generalship of John Lilburne, and the resultant fear of Independent radicals it had produced. No matter proposed by the Independents was welcome there - especially not the crowning of a puppet king who facilitated a radical church. That Karl had only Independent support, and not Parliament's, was barely addressed.

Instead, the Presbyterian and Royalist delegates quickly signed a truce agreement on December 3rd. Unprepared to engage in further discussion in front of the Independent affiliated delegates eager to sow discord, Edward Hyde and Denzil Holles agreed to terms which reflected the subcommittee discussions over each original proposal. Firstly, Holles agreed to turn over a list of Parliamentarians who had displayed "deliberate malice" to the king and constitution - a list that included MPs and Independent army officers. The second term was more difficult, concerning the drafted agreement for Presbyterians to serve under Sir Ralph Hopton. The plan had been contingent on William Waller's cooperation, as Waller was personal friends with Ralph Hopton and so was prepared to facilitate the agreement. But with Waller seemingly aligned with Karl II, a new deal was necessary: the Presbyterians would retain the right to appoint their own commanders for the duration of the war, but would coordinate with Royal forces. A more permanent solution would be negotiated after the Independents were defeated. Thirdly, the Westminister Assembly would be reassembled with a more appropriate composition. The new collection of priests, scholars and MPs would exclude Independents, thereby enabling focus on a well-run church. It also contained fewer Scots, in an emphasis of the Englishness of the peace settlement.

On December 4th, the Presbyterian delegation's truce agreement was put before parliament. Given that they had secured a nearly two-thirds majority in agreeing to the peace talks, the Presbyterian delegation was optimistic. After all, they thought, it was in the best interests of MPs to disband Lilburne's army of radicals as soon as possible. In this hope the Presbyterians displayed a lack of imagination. Although discussion at Westminister was dominated by the Independent-Presbyterian split, neither faction made up a plurality at Parliament. Instead, a large group of MPs from the north, midlands and west country counties under Royalist occupation had developed. To these internal Exiles, John Lilburne's army sure didn't seem like a threat to their properties, but rather their only means to liberate them.

So when the Presbyterians summoned the London City Militia arrived to arrest John Lilburne and others accussed of "deliberate malice", the Parliamentary response was one of rage. Save for a core of the staunch Presbyterian peace party, nobody was prepared to break parliamentary privilege to see these men arrested. Instead, most MPs worked to hide the Independents, allowing them to escape back into the city in something of a repeat of the non-arrest of the Five Members back in January 1642. Before fleeing, the Independent MPs presented their narrative of events: Denzil Holles, the Independents warned, had already been caught attempting to orchestrate a coup for the king back in the winter of 1643/4. This new attempt was just further proof that the Presbyterians were traitors who claimed to fight for the religious rights of Englishmen, but who simply sought to replace one form of tyranny with another.

The Presbyterians used their sudden control of Parliament to attempt to force a vote ratifying the Uxbridge Truce, only to be delayed by war faction Presbyterians such as Zouch Tate and William Waller. This bought time for the Independent MPs, who hadn't fled far but were instead connecting with the army in London. A resultant muster of the Lilburne's horse dispersed the London militia bloodlessly. Explaining the Independent's easy victory, London's experienced fighters were starving behind the walls of Taunton, and many of the recruits of the Presbyterian aligned militia were raw. But the militia weren't just inexperienced, they were unmotivated. The militia were Londoners, who considered Lilburne to have saved their city from King Charles' army; they certainly weren't prepared to die arresting him. With most militiamen refusing to muster in first instance, and many others being prevented from doing so by Lilburne's troops, those few hundred who did show dissolved upon a feigned charge.

This allowed the Independent MPs to return to Parliament in the late afternoon, only this time the Presbyterian peace faction was excluded, as the core peace Presbyterian delegates fled Westminister. Subsequently, Parliament's momentum swung in an Independent direction for the remainder of the month. Their first order of business was holding the Presbyterians accountable for their coup. In this pursuit a trial between John Lilburne and his commander, the Duke of Manchester, was resurrected, and quickly universalised to encompass all Independent complaints against Presbyterian running of the war. Finding that Manchester and Essex's poor military performance was a sign of their treason, the Independents argued that the role of military commanders was to secure victory, not negotiate peace. The result was the Self Denying Ordinance, which posited that peace-seekers had forfeited the trust placed in them, and hence denied their right to command. The Self Denying Ordinance would therefore see key Presbyterians like Denzil Holles, The Earl of Essex, the Earl of Manchester and Edward Massie excluded from military decision making.

But the Self Denying Ordinance was only the beginning of the Parliament's military reforms. Parliament's existing forces were a divided mishmash, paid and supplied by seperate County Associations or the city of London. In many places their command jurisdictions were unclear, with some counties being pressed for resources by multiple different associations, or even acting independently. It had also been unclear whose authority was highest - was Essex in command as Captain General, or did the Committee of Both Kingdoms hold sway, or were Associations supreme? Further, Essex and Waller's mutual mistrust of one another had prevented them from capturing Charles in June, whilst Manchester's fear of Lilburne gaining credit for victory allowed Prince Rupert to escape their attempt to surround him at the end of the campaign season. The joint Independent-Exile solution to Parliament's military chaos was the New Model Army, a single army with a unified system of organisation, recruitment and supply.

The commander of this new army would be the northern gentleman Thomas Fairfax. Fairfax was the son of Ferdinando Fairfax, commander of Parliament's Northern Association, and had proved himself an able officer in the battles of Selby and Marston Moor, showing great personal courage. A part of the Exile political group, Fairfax had remained steadfastly apolitical throughout Presbyterian and Independent infighting. He was popular among the Independents for supporting his men's freedom of conscience, but his personal conservatism and Presbyterianism left him untainted by an air of radicalism. Subsequently, he had support in both camps. That support was important, because the Self Denying Ordinance was not popular in the House of Lords. Most of those excluded by the Self Denying Ordinance would be Presbyterian members of the Lords, and the aristocratic body was reluctant to forfeit their traditional control over the army, especially if it was to become mired in radicalism that threatened the social order. On December 10th, a new provision was added to the bill that would require all MPs with an army commission to resign, in a calculated move to remove John Lilburne. As Lilburne's support was concentrated in the army and streets of London rather than the House of Commons, the provision and the ordnance were able to pass; Lilburne and other MPs would have 40 days to resign their commissions, or be in violation of the Ordnance.

The New Model Army began to muster at Turnham Green, in an open show of defiance against the Royalist army camped at Reading. Calling for an army of 21,000 men, the core of the New Model Army would be pieced together from Manchester's foot and Lilburne's horse, with another 10,000 men to be raised in a series of recruitment drives throughout Parliament controlled territory. The existing Army of the Northern Association would fall under Thomas Fairfax's overall command, though Fairfax would leave fellow northernor and cavalry commander John Lambert in place as he helped to organise the new army.

The New Model Army would be supplied and paid for with a new monthly assessment of 45,000 pounds on the counties controlled by Parliament, although the bulk of it would be raised from London and the parts of the Eastern Association that had yet to be touched by war. Before the army was even ready for fighting, the efficiencies of its national character were already on full display. Rather than counties, associations and generals competing for resources and being forced to pay with flimsy promises, the New Model Army was able to place bulk orders for materiel and pay with hard coin, facilitating the purchase of some 9000 swords, 6000 pikes and 1500 dragons, short muskets used by Dragoons and the fulfilment of orders all before the end of January. Unlike many of the war's armies to date, no New Model soldiers would be forced to fight with pitchforks or clubs. Further, this system of national supply enabled the army to clothe its soldiers too, with New Model Army soldiers sporting red coats with blue facings (the Fairfax family colours) and grey britches - the first of the Redcoats, who would later come to haunt the crowned heads of Europe.

___

With his debut at the Uxbridge Declaration an embarassing failure, one might expect King Karl II to have faded into the background. For some in the coalition between Lilburne's army and the Independents, the alliance with Karl had never been popular to begin with. For proto-Leveller republicans like Thomas Chaloner and Henry Marten, the Civil War represented England's greatest chance at removing kings and their Norman yoke altogether. Marten, perhaps the most radical man in the House of Commons and the first to have acknowledged Lilburne's election to the body back in August, was particularly incensed, writing of Karl as "The least useful man in the realm, being a second king in a land that had already tired of but one." Yet after the Presbyterian coup failed and the Independents secured the city, Karl II established a court for himself at Whitehall Palace, his kingly dignity financed by Independent backers.

Part of the explanation for Karl's continued support rested in the lack of uniformity in the Parliamentary camp, even among the Independents. Although Lilburne and many of his rank and file favoured comprehensive freedom of conscience and sweeping reforms to England's constitution, most Independent MPs favoured a Congregationalist system of loosely affiliated churches adhering to uniform core principles. For some these latter men, Karl II's promise to uphold the constitutional victories of the Long Parliament were security against the radicals with whom they had made common cause.

The other source of the continued Independent-Karl alliance was a conscious recognition of the British character of the war made by Independents back in November. So long as King Charles could rely on support from Cornwall, Wales, Scotland and Ireland, victory in the war seemed unlikely. In addition to the smaller Stuart realms fearing an English Parliament unrestrained by a British king, they also wanted little to do with an Independent church settlement. The Scots remained strident in their demands for a Presbyterian settlement throughout the British isles, whilst in Wales the Church of England remained popular. King Karl, the Independents reasoned, would be a useful intermediary between them and the other British realms.

And on December 11th, Karl II proved them right. Whilst attending a Sunday mass at the Scottish confessional church St Columba's in London, Karl affirmed the principle of the Free Oath to Scotland that acknowledged the Scottish nation's right to their Presbyterian church. Playing on Scottish resentments at having been excluded from the Uxbridge peace talks and Parliament's abandonment of the Committee of Both Kingdoms, Karl also promised the Scots a permanent seat at his table.

The seat at the the table Karl offered was a reconstituted Committee of Both Kingdoms, now to be known as the Committee of Britain. With English Presbyterians freshly excluded by the Self Denying Ordinance, the English delegates of the body were now split between Exiles and Independents. Joining them would be the existing Scottish delegates, and two Welsh delegates, Sir Hugh Owen and Simon Thelwall.

Two regiments would also be set aside in the New Model Army to be made up of majority Scottish troops, and Scottish officers would be permitted to remain in the army providing they did not have a history of harassing independents.

In an early sign of a future rift, these proposals were not popular among the more ideologically minded of Parliament. Many Independents remained bitter at the Scots for their indecisive showing at Marston Moor, and were not eager to serve alongside Presbyterians, given that they had so recently excluded them. Others forsaw the Scottish involvement as an imposition on a rightfully English army and English war. Yet the more pragmatic minded Exiles didn't care where their troops came from: Parliament had a manpower problem, and Scots were welcome to help fill the gap.

In exchange for these concessions, King Karl bargained for something extremely precious in the bitter winter of late 1644: coal. In the midst of a fuel crisis that saw many of London's poorest without sufficient heating, the special shipments from Scottish-held Newcastle were heralded by the pilot issue of the Karlist newsbook Pax Britannica as the first of many fruits of renewed Anglo-Scottish cooperation. The coal would also prove critical in the final major development of 1644: the London City elections.
 
Since you have already decided to set on a Restoration, I am willing to bet that the Second Revolution (TTL equivalent of Glorious Revolution) would result in a Second British Republic instead of a constitutional monarchy like IOTL (and would occur earlier than 1688. Lilbourne should be able to leave a much greater republican mark on British society than Cromwell IOTL.

No monarches (at least all the OTL kings or queens) in the 17th and early-to mid-18th centuries would ever accept his proto-democratic ideas. But, up until the French Revolution, none of them attempted to overthrow republics because these states were republics.
 
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In practice, Karl II's debut fell flat. The problem wasn't with the principal of an Independent-monarchist alliance, but rather the context of their arrival. The Presbyterian and Royalist delegates had been largely self-selected due to their personal commitment to peace between Englishmen of proper means. In this sense, the Uxbridge talks can be understood as a direct response to the massacre of King's Lynn and the election and generalship of John Lilburne, and the resultant fear of Independent radicals it had produced. No matter proposed by the Independents was welcome there - especially not the crowning of a puppet king who facilitated a radical church. That Karl had only Independent support, and not Parliament's, was barely addressed.

Instead, the Presbyterian and Royalist delegates quickly signed a truce agreement on December 3rd. Unprepared to engage in further discussion in front of the Independent affiliated delegates eager to sow discord, Edward Hyde and Denzil Holles agreed to terms which reflected the subcommittee discussions over each original proposal.
Uhh - the previous post implied that Lilburne was taking over. His entrance sure looked like a display of force and he arrested Holles. The accession of Karl to the throne was not proposed, it was asserted. How could the negotiations proceed after that? Or the attempted proscription of the Independents and Presbyterian coup?
 
Uhh - the previous post implied that Lilburne was taking over. His entrance sure looked like a display of force and he arrested Holles. The accession of Karl to the throne was not proposed, it was asserted. How could the negotiations proceed after that? Or the attempted proscription of the Independents and Presbyterian coup?
About 60 people were at Uxbridge, 20 delegates from each of the three sources. Just as the Royalists and Presbyterians couldn't force the Independents out, Lilburne couldn't physically arrest Holles & friends, who sought to outplay Lilburne by beating him back to London and aiming to arrest him before he could arrest them. This, like a lot of the politics of the civil war, only makes sense if you look at what the factions were thinking in a given week, rather than with the benefit of hindsight. In this case, the Independents feared that the war would end right there at Uxbridge unless they did something crazy.

The key is that Lilburne's support is almost entirely concentrated in the army. There's probably only about half a dozen MPs that are in his camp at the moment (Henry Marten and Edmund Ludlow being two). Most Independent officers and MPs are gentry Congregationalists, whereas Lilburne is a sectarian Baptist with support mostly from the yeomanry, apprentices, and tenant farmers. He gained his position of command due to being more palatable to the Scots than Ireton and Packer, remember. He can make grand displays, but that doesn't necessarily translate to political capital or physical success. For example, if Lilburne commanded Henry Ireton to help elect William Walwyn, who spent his time in the London Common Council advocating for an expansion of the franchise, Ireton would refuse. Ireton claimed that the first thing a democratically elected body would do would be to dissolve property rights.

Interrupting Uxbridge didn't immediately impact Parliament itself, and Lilburne has been convinced by John Selden that for the immediate future, he needs to respect Parliament as the sovereign body of England. OTL, Lilburne advocated for a constitution in which nobody could be both an officer and an MP (or a lawyer and MP!), a sort of permanent Self Denying Ordinance - that is, he was against use of military force to direct politics. That means he's not prepared to use the army as a club yet, only a shield.

Karl hasn't been recognised by (many) Exiles yet, but that will probably change over 1645. Further, Karl II was only recognised by a core of Independents as king of England, but that didn't make him king of Scotland. And the Scottish delegates are hardly going to be mad that the Uxbridge delegates busy ignoring them were interrupted in a provocative fashion - they want a Presbyterian Scotland first and foremost, and at this stage Karl's stance on a Presbyterian Scotland is better than the Presbyterian-Royalist compromise that is looking like a primitive episcopacy, a betrayal of Montrose's promise to Scotland. The four Covenanter Scots on the Committee of both Kingdoms, present neither for the Uxbridge Declaration or the Presbyterian coup, will need Argyl's support to recognise Karl II as king of Scotland. Unfortunately for Argyl, Montrose controls a little less than half of Scotland, and every Scot has quite literally sworn an oath to impose a Presbyterian church on England. That is all to say that Karl II might be a convenient ally for the moment, but they're not prepared to crown him yet.

All of that is a long winded way of saying - if I was writing the scene again, I'd just get John Selden to do the Uxbridge Declaration. He's the one advocating for it, and probably the first member of Karl's privy council.
 
Since you have already decided to set on a Restoration, I am willing to bet that the Second Revolution (TTL equivalent of Glorious Revolution) would result in a Second British Republic instead of a constitutional monarchy like IOTL (and would occur earlier than 1688. Lilbourne should be able to leave a much greater republican mark on British society than Cromwell IOTL.

No monarches (at least all the OTL kings or queens) in the 17th and early-to mid-18th centuries would ever accept his proto-democratic ideas. But, up until the French Revolution, none of them attempted to overthrow republics because these states were republics.
This is very much my intention - in the same way that European monarchists reacted with horror to the First French Republic, so too will they do so when faced with the First Commonwealth. The first Commonwealth will make too many enemies to fight them all at once, but it will also raise a generation who will believe in crazy ideas like God having made everyone equal, and they won't stay silent forever.

"For by natural birth, all men are equally and alike born to like propriety, liberty and freedom, and as we are delivered of God by the hand of nature into this world, every one with a natural, innate freedom and propriety (as it were writ in the table of every man's heart, never to be obliterated) even so are we to live, every one equally and alike to enjoy his birthright and privilege, even all whereof God by nature hath made him free." - Richard Overton
 
This is very much my intention - in the same way that European monarchists reacted with horror to the First French Republic, so too will they do so when faced with the First Commonwealth. The first Commonwealth will make too many enemies to fight them all at once, but it will also raise a generation who will believe in crazy ideas like God having made everyone equal, and they won't stay silent forever.
There are several flaws IMO:

1) Unlike in 1789, there is a Dutch Republic kicking and alive right next door.

2) Also unlike in 1789, the Thirty Years' War just ended - so let us rule out Central European states. And they were too far away from the Atlantic anyway.

3) Also unlike 1789, Franco-Spanish War. In addition, Spain was debt-ridden at that time, with debts on their eyeballs. Also, IOTL the Commonwealth of England beat them on the sea. Btw, there is the Fronde in France as well.

4) Also unlike 1789, this is the era of the Wars of Religion.

5) Also unlike 1789, England is an island, and the Commonwealth Navy IOTL was a 800lb gorilla in the classic sense of the term. France in 1789, OTOH, was a land power sharing land borders with European monarchies.

6) Louis XIV - enough said. He would turn everyone against him.

My conclusion is that at least during 1650-1720, European monarchies were either too busy elsewhere (France), or too exhausted (German states), or both (Spain), or too far away (German states, Russia), or simply lacked the naval capability (all of them). By then, Charles II was long dead and the Commonwealth would have established sufficient legitimacy at home and abroad, especially at home.
 
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@NedStark

I think the most important conflict of the time, vis-a-vis the viability of the Restoration, is the Franco-Spanish war. Whilst France and the Hapsburgs are certainly rivals who hate each other, they're not suicidal. France and Spain will not be fighting until 1659 ITTL, because the Commonwealth will get in their way. The Commonwealth will also have two key liabilities at home in the 50s: the nobility/gentry who want to reassert the traditional social order, and everyone who is mad that they've become too British/not English enough, too tolerant/not Puritan enough.

Commonwealth support for the Huguenots and Catalans will be responsible for many of the differences, although I have plans for Anglo-Dutch unity that are fairly theoretical at this stage since I've yet to really dive into Dutch politics. There was a suggestion OTL for the English to cede commercial interests in the East to the Dutch, providing the Dutch cede their western interests to England. If I can swing it, this will form the basis of early Anglo-Dutch unity. The Western Design is also going to be more successful.

Louis XIV will also probably not be the model for successful absolutism that he was in OTL, depending on the Fronde, so France will be less diplomatically isolated.

And there's other crazy stuff I want to do that may well alter the balance of power in Europe, like a stronger Anglo-Moroccan alliance and an Ottoman Empire with a modern navy, and a People's Kingdom of Poland.

At the end of the day, I am making decisions based on how much they interest me, rather than how plausible I believe them to be. Would the Independents really crown Karl, given that his brother and heir is the general that just scourged their beloved Eastern Association? Probably not, but narratively he'll serve the role of emphasising the Britishness of the Civil Wars. The narrative function of the Restoration is to enable the pirate-republic Commonwealth of Jamaica to take centre stage, and that's because I like pirates.
 
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