rwise when the death of Hampden on
the one hand, or of Falkland on the other, is taken into account? The
disease of political disagreement had to be cured by the stern tonic of
cold shot and sharp steel, and both antagonists in their several ways
must have sorrowed over the painful need. Certainly Falkland did. That
the antagonism so speedily ceased to be active, is strongly typical of
the English character. Fight out the battle of opinion if you will,
but when the contest is decided, then let the old friendships resume
their pleasant sway. Thus it was that within one generation many a
reconciliation had been effected, many an old sore healed; and as time
went on, the flowers of a more kindly appreciation of the good that lay
on both sides sprang up over the re-cemented factions, as the flowers
of the summer days had sprung up over the graves of Roundhead and
Cavalier.

Though Parliament had decreed that the army should be entirely
disbanded, and the operation was actually begun, it had calculated
without its host. There were many stern fanatics who viewed their loss
of power with anything but favour. Crack-brained Thomas Venner created
a rising in London of the extremest sect of religious enthusiasts, the
fifth-monarchy men, and proclaimed the reign of “King Jesus.” This
menace to the public peace arrested the total abolition of the army.
Some form of military police was evidently necessary, and therefore a
reluctant permission was given for the formation of a small force for
the “guards and garrisons” of the king. They were to be raised by him,
and paid by him out of the State allowance for the support of the royal
estate, and were not to exceed three thousand men. They consisted of
the Yeomen of the Guard, the Gentlemen-at-Arms (founded by Henry VII.
and Henry VIII. respectively), the Life and Horse Guards or “Oxford
Blues” (so called from its commanding officer, the Earl of Oxford, and
to distinguish them from a Dutch regiment of horse, which was also clad
in blue), and the Coldstream Guards, rais