would continue to act against Scotland, and appear at the head of the
forces; a station for which he was well qualified, and where alone he
made any figure. But Fairfax, though he had allowed the army to make use
of his name in murdering their sovereign, and offering violence to the
parliament, had entertained unsurmountable scruples against invading
the Scots, whom he considered as zealous Presbyterians, and united to
England by the sacred bands of the covenant. He was further disgusted
at the extremities into which he had already been hurried; and was
confirmed in his repugnance by the exhortations of his wife, who
had great influence over him, and was herself much governed by the
Presbyterian clergy. A committee of parliament was sent to reason with
him; and Cromwell was of the number. In vain did they urge, that the
Scots had first broken the covenant by their invasion of England under
Hamilton; and that they would surely renew their hostile attempts, if
not prevented by the vigorous measures of the commonwealth. Cromwell,
who knew the rigid inflexibility of Fairfax, in every thing which he
regarded as matter of principle, ventured to solicit him with the utmost
earnestness; and he went so far as to shed tears of grief and vexation
on the occasion. No one could suspect any ambition in the man who
labored so zealously to retain his general in that high office, which,
he knew, he himself was alone entitled to fill. The same warmth of
temper which made Cromwell a frantic enthusiast, rendered him the most
dangerous of hypocrites; and it was to this turn of mind, as much as to
his courage and capacity, that he owed all his wonderful successes. By
the contagious ferment of his zeal, he engaged every one to coöperate
with him in his measures; and entering easily and affectionately into
every part which he was disposed to act, he was enabled, even after
multiplied deceits, to cover, under a tempest of passion, all his
crooked schemes and profound artifices.
Fairfax having resigned his commission, it was bestowed on Cromwell, who
was declared captain-general of all the forces in England. This command,
in a commonwealth which stood entirely by arms, was of the utmost
importance; and was the chief step which this ambitious politician had
yet made towards sovereign power. He immediately marched his forces, and
entered Scotland with an army of sixteen thousand men.
The command of the Scottish army was given to Lesley, an experienced
officer, who formed a very proper plan of defence. He intrenched himself
in a fortified camp between Edinburgh and Leith, and took care to remove
from the counties of Merse and the Lothians every thing which could
serve to the subsistence of the English army. Cromwell advanced to the
Scotch camp, and endeavored by every expedient to bring Lesley to a
battle: the prudent Scotchman knew that, though superior in numbers, his
army was much inferior in discipline to the English; and he carefully
kept himself within his intrenchments. By skirmishes and small
rencounters he tried to confirm the spirits of his soldiers; and he
was successful in these enterprises. His army daily increased both
in numbers and courage. The king came to the camp; and having exerted
himself in an action, gained on the affections of the soldiery, who were
more desirous of serving under a young prince of spirit and vivacity,
than under a committee of talking gown-men. The clergy were alarmed.
They ordered Charles immediately to leave the camp. They also purged it
carefully of about four thousand malignants and engagers whose zeal had
led them to attend the king, and who were the soldiers of chief credit
and experience in the nation.[*] They then concluded that they had an
army composed entirely of saints, and could not be beaten. They murmured
extremely, not only against their prudent general, but also against the
Lord, on account of his delays in giving them deliverance;[**] and
they plainly told him, that if he would not save them from the English
sectaries, he should no longer be their God.[***]
* Sir Edw. Walker, p. 165.
** Sir Edw. Walker p. 168.
*** Whitlocke, p. 449.
An advantage having offered itself on a Sunday, they hindered the
general from making use of it, lest he should involve the nation in the
guilt of Sabbath-breaking.
Cromwell found himself in a very bad situation. He had no provisions but
what he received by sea. He had not had the precaution to bring these
in sufficient quantities; and his army was reduced to difficulties. He
retired to Dunbar. Lesley followed him, and encamped on the heights of
Lammermure, which overlook that town. There lay many difficult passes
between Dunbar and Berwick, and of these Lesley had taken possession.
The English general was reduced to extremities. He had even embraced a
resolution of sending by sea all his foot and artillery to England, and
of breaking through, at all hazards, with his cavalry. The madness of
the Scottish ecclesiastics saved him from this loss and dishonor.
Night and day the ministers had been wrestling with the Lord in prayer,
as they termed it; and they fancied that they had at last obtained the
victory. Revelations, they said, were made them, that the sectarian and
heretical army, together with Agag, meaning Cromwell, was delivered into
their hands. Upon the faith of these visions, they forced their general,
in spite of his remonstrances, to descend into the plain with a view
of attacking the English in their retreat. Cromwell, looking through a
glass, saw the enemy's camp in motion; and foretold, without the help
of revelations, that the Lord had delivered them into his hands. He gave
orders immediately for an attack. In this battle it was easily observed,
that nothing in military actions can supply the place of discipline and
experience; and that, in the presence of real danger, where men are not
accustomed to it, the fumes of enthusiasm presently dissipate, and lose
their influence. The Scots, though double in number to the English, were
soon put to flight, and pursued with great slaughter. The chief, if not
only resistance, was made by one regiment of Highlanders, that part of
the army which was the least infected with fanaticism. No victory could
be more complete than this which was obtained by Cromwell. About three
thousand of the enemy were slain, and nine thousand taken prisoners.
Cromwell pursued his advantage, and took possession of Edinburgh and
Leith. The remnant of the Scottish army fled to Stirling. The approach
of the winter season, and an ague which seized Cromwell, kept him from
pushing the victory any further.
The clergy made great lamentations, and told the Lord that to them it
was little to sacrifice their lives and estates, but to him it was a
great loss to suffer his elect to be destroyed.[*] They published
a declaration containing the cause of their late misfortunes. These
visitations they ascribed to the manifold provocations of the king's
house, of which, they feared, he had not yet thoroughly repented; the
secret intrusion of malignants into the king's family, and even into the
camp; the leaving of a most malignant and profane guard of horse, who,
being sent for to be purged, came two days before the defeat, and were
allowed to fight with the army; the owning of the king's quarrel by
many without subordination to religion and liberty; and the carnal
self-seeking of some, together with the neglect of family prayers by
others.
Cromwell, having been so successful in the war of the sword, took up
the pen against the Scottish ecclesiastics. He wrote them some polemical
letters, in which he maintained the chief points of the Independent
theology. He took care likewise, to retort on them their favorite
argument of providence; and asked them, whether the Lord had not
declared against them. But the ministers thought that the same events
which to their enemies were judgments, to them were trials, and they
replied, that the Lord had only hid his face for a time from Jacob.
But Cromwell insisted that the appeal had been made to God in the
most express and solemn manner; and that, in the fields of Dunbar, an
irrevocable decision had been awarded in favor of the English army.[**]
* Sir Edward Walker.
* This is the best of Cromwell's wretched compositions that
remains, and we shall here extract a passage out of it. "You
say you have not so learned Christ as to hang the equity of
your cause upon events. We could wish that blindness had not
been upon your eyes to all those marvellous dispensations
which God hath wrought lately in England. But did not you
solemnly appeal and pray? Did not we do so too? And ought
not we and you to think, with fear and trembling, of the
hand of the great God, in this mighty and strange appearance
of his, but can slightly call it an event? Were not both
your and our expectations renewed from time to time, while
we waited on God, to see which way he would manifest himself
upon our appeals? And shall we, after all these our prayers,
fastings, tears, expectations, and solemn appeals, call
these mere events? The Lord pity you. Surely we fear,
because it has been a merciful and a gracious deliverance to
us.
"I beseech you in the bowels of Christ, search after the
mind of the Lord in it towards you, and we shall help you by
our prayers, that you may find it. For yet, if we know our
heart at all, our bowels do in Christ yearn after the godly
in Scotland." Thurloe, vol. i. p. 158.
{1651.} The defeat of the Scots was regarded by the king as a fortunate
event. The armies which fought on both sides, were almost equally his
enemies; and the vanquished were now obliged to give him some more
authority, and apply to him for support. The parliament was summoned to
meet at St. Johnstone's. Hamilton, Lauderdale, and all the engagers were
admitted into court and camp, on condition of doing public penance, and
expressing repentance for their late transgressions. Some malignants
also crept in under various pretences. The intended humiliation or
penance of the king was changed into the ceremony of his coronation,
which was performed at Scone with great pomp and solemnity. But amidst
all this appearance of respect, Charles remained in the hands of the
most rigid Covenanters; and though treated with civility and courtesy
by Argyle, a man of parts and address, he was little better than a
prisoner, and was still exposed to all the rudeness and pedantry of the
ecclesiastics.
This young prince was in a situation which very ill suited his temper
and disposition. All those good qualities which he possessed, his
affability, his wit, his gayety, his gentleman-like, disengaged
behavior, were here so many vices; and his love of ease, liberty, and
pleasure, was regarded as the highest enormity. Though artful in the
practice of courtly dissimulation, the sanctified style was utterly
unknown to him; and he never could mould his deportment into that
starched grimace which the Covenanters required as an infallible mark of
conversion. The duke of Buckingham was the only English courtier allowed
to attend him; and by his ingenious talent for ridicule, he had rendered
himself extremely agreeable to his master. While so many objects of
derision surrounded them, it was difficult to be altogether insensible
to the temptation, and wholly to suppress the laugh. Obliged to attend
from morning to night at prayers and sermons, they betrayed evident
symptoms of weariness or contempt. The clergy never could esteem
the king sufficiently regenerated; and by continual exhortations,
remonstrances, and reprimands, they still endeavored to bring him to a
juster sense of his spiritual duty.
The king's passion for the fair could not altogether be restrained. He
had once been observed using some familiarities with a young woman; and
a committee of ministers was appointed to reprove him for a behavior
so unbecoming a covenanted monarch. The spokesman of the committee,
one Douglas began with a severe aspect, informed the king, that great
scandal had been given to the godly, enlarged on the heinous nature of
sin, and concluded with exhorting his majesty, whenever he was disposed
to amuse himself, to be more careful for the future in shutting the
windows. This delicacy, so unusual to the place and to the character of
the man, was remarked by the king; and he never forgot the obligation.
The king, shocked at all the indignities, and perhaps still more tired
with all the formalities to which he was obliged to submit, made an
attempt to regain his liberty. General Middleton, at the head of some
royalists, being proscribed by the Covenanters, kept in the mountains,
expecting some opportunity of serving his master. The king resolved
to join this body. He secretly made his escape from Argyle, and fled
towards the Highlands. Colonel Montgomery, with a troop of horse, was
sent in pursuit of him. He overtook the king, and persuaded him to
return. The royalists being too weak to support him, Charles was the
more easily induced to comply. This incident procured him afterwards
better treatment and more authority; the Covenanters being afraid of
driving him, by their rigors, to some desperate resolution.
Argyle renewed his courtship to the king; and the king, with equal
dissimulation, pretended to repose great confidence in Argyle. He even
went so far as to drop hints of his intention to marry that nobleman's
daughter; but he had to do with a man too wise to be seduced by such
gross artifices.
As soon as the season would permit, the Scottish army was assembled
under Hamilton and Lesley; and the king was allowed to join the camp.
The forces of the western counties, notwithstanding the imminent danger
which threatened their country, were resolute not to unite their cause
with that of an army which admitted any engagers or malignants among
them; and they kept in a body apart under Ker. They called themselves
the protesters; and their frantic clergy declaimed equally against
the king and against Cromwell. The other party were denominated
resolutioners; and these distinctions continued long after to divide and
agitate the kingdom.
Charles encamped at the Torwood; and his generals resolved to conduct
themselves by the same cautious maxims, which so long as they were
embraced, had been successful during the former campaign. The town
of Stirling lay at his back, and the whole north supplied him with
provisions. Strong intrenchments defended his front; and it was in vain
that Cromwell made every attempt to bring him to an engagement. After
losing much time, the English general sent Lambert over the Frith into
Fife, with an intention of cutting off the provisions of the enemy.
Lambert fell upon Holborne and Brown, who commanded a party of the
Scots, and put them to rout with great slaughter. Cromwell also passed
over with his whole army; and lying at the back of the king, made it
impossible for him to keep his post any longer.
Charles, reduced to despair, embraced a resolution worthy of a
young prince contending for empire. Having the way open, he resolved
immediately to march into England, where he expected that all
his friends, and all those who were discontented with the present
government, would flock to his standard. He persuaded the generals to
enter into the same views; and with one consent the army, to the number
of fourteen thousand men, rose from their camp, and advanced by great
journeys towards the south.
Cromwell was surprised at this movement of the royal army. Wholly intent
on offending his enemy, he had exposed his friends to imminent danger,
and saw the king with numerous forces marching into England; where
his presence, from the general hatred which prevailed against the
parliament, was capable of producing some great revolution. But if this
conduct was an oversight in Cromwell, he quickly repaired it by his
vigilance and activity. He despatched letters to the parliament,
exhorting them not to be dismayed at the approach of the Scots: he sent
orders every where for assembling forces to oppose the king: he ordered
Lambert with a body of cavalry to hang upon the rear of the royal army,
and infest their march; and he himself, leaving Monk with seven thousand
men to complete the reduction of Scotland, followed the king with all
the expedition possible.
Charles found himself disappointed in his expectations of increasing
his army. The Scots, terrified at the prospect of so hazardous an
enterprise, fell off in great numbers. The English Presbyterians, having
no warning given them of the king's approach, were not prepared to join
him. To the royalists, this measure was equally unexpected; and they
were further deterred from joining the Scottish army by the orders which
the committee of ministers had issued, not to admit any, even in this
desperate extremity, who would not subscribe the covenant. The earl of
Derby, leaving the Isle of Man, where he had hitherto maintained his
independence, was employed in levying forces in Cheshire and Lancashire;
but was soon suppressed by a party of the parliamentary army. And the
king, when he arrived at Worcester, found that his forces, extremely
harassed by a hasty and fatiguing march, were not more numerous than
when he rose from his camp in the Torwood.
Such is the influence of established government, that the commonwealth,
though founded in usurpation the most unjust and unpopular, had
authority sufficient to raise every where the militia of the counties;
and these, united with the regular forces, bent all their efforts
against the king. With an army of about thirty thousand men, Cromwell
fell upon Worcester; and attacking it on all sides, and meeting with
little resistance, except from Duke Hamilton and General Middleton,
broke in upon the disordered royalists. The streets of the city were
strowed with dead. Hamilton, a nobleman of bravery and honor, was
mortally wounded; Massey wounded and taken prisoner; the king himself,
having given many proofs of personal valor, was obliged to fly. The
whole Scottish army was either killed or taken prisoners. The country
people, inflamed with national antipathy, put to death the few that
escaped from the field of battle.
The king left Worcester at six o'clock in the afternoon, and without
halting, travelled about twenty-six miles, in company with fifty or
sixty of his friends. To provide for his safety, he thought it best
to separate himself from his companions; and he left them without
communicating his intentions to any of them. By the earl of Derby's
directions, he went to Boscobel, a lone house in the borders of
Staffordshire, inhabited by one Penderell, a farmer. To this man Charles
intrusted himself. The man had dignity of sentiments much above his
condition, and though death was denounced against all who concealed the
king, and a great reward promised to any one who should betray him, he
professed and maintained unshaken fidelity. He took the assistance of
his four brothers, equally honorable with himself: and having clothed
the king in a garb like their own, they led him into the neighboring
wood, put a bill in his hand, and pretended to employ themselves in
cutting fagots. Some nights he lay upon straw in the house, and fed on
such homely fare as it afforded. For a better concealment, he mounted
upon an oak, where he sheltered himself among the leaves and branches
for twenty-four hours. He saw several soldiers pass by. All of them were
intent in search of the king; and some expressed in his hearing their
earnest wishes of seizing him. This tree was afterwards denominated
the royal oak, and for many years was regarded by the neighborhood with
great veneration.
Charles was in the middle of the kingdom, and could neither stay in
his retreat, nor stir a step from it, without the most imminent danger.
Fears, hopes, and party zeal interested multitudes to discover him; and
even the smallest indiscretion of his friends might prove fatal. Having
joined Lord Wilmot, who was skulking in the neighborhood, they agreed to
put themselves into the hands of Colonel Lane, a zealous royalist, who
lived at Bentley, not many miles distant. The king's feet were so hurt
by walking about in heavy boots or countrymen's shoes which did not fit
him, that he was obliged to mount on horseback; and he travelled in
this situation to Bentley, attended by the Penderells, who had been so
faithful to him. Lane formed a scheme for his journey to Bristol, where,
it was hoped, he would find a ship in which he might transport himself.
He had a near kinswoman, Mrs. Norton, who lived within three miles of
that city, and was with child, very near the time of her delivery. He
obtained a pass (for during those times of confusion this precaution was
requisite) for his sister, Jane Lane, and a servant, to travel towards
Bristol, under pretence of visiting and attending her relation. The king
rode before the lady, and personated the servant.
When they arrived at Norton's, Mrs. Lane pretended that she had brought
along, as her servant, a poor lad, a neighboring farmer's son, who was
ill of an ague; and she begged a private room for him, where he might be
quiet. Though Charles kept himself retired in this chamber, the butler,
one Pope, soon knew him: the king was alarmed, but made the butler
promise that he would keep the secret from every mortal, even from his
master; and he was faithful to his engagement.
No ship, it was found, would for a month set sail from Bristol, either
for France or Spain, and the king was obliged to go elsewhere for a
passage. He intrusted himself to Colone Windham of Dorsetshire, an
affectionate partisan of the royal family. The natural effect of the
long civil wars, and of the furious rage to which all men were wrought
up in their different factions, was, that every one's inclinations and
affections were thoroughly known; and even the courage and fidelity
of most men, by the variety of incidents, had been put to trial. The
royalists, too, had, many of them, been obliged to make concealments in
their houses for themselves, their friends, or more valuable effects;
and the arts of eluding the enemy had been frequently practised.
All these circumstances proved favorable to the king in the present
exigency. As he often passed through the hands of Catholics, the priests
hole, as they called it, the place where they were obliged to conceal
their persecuted priests, was sometimes employed for sheltering their
distressed sovereign.
Windham, before he received the king, asked leave to intrust the
important secret to his mother, his wife, and four servants, on whose
fidelity he could rely. Of all these, no one proved wanting either in
honor or discretion. The venerable old matron, on the reception of her
royal guest, expressed the utmost joy, that having lost, without regret,
three sons and one grandchild in defence of his father, she was now
reserved, in her declining years, to be instrumental in the preservation
of himself. Windham told the king, that Sir Thomas, his father, in the
year 1636, a few days before his death, called to him his five sons. "My
children," said he, "we have hitherto seen serene and quiet times under
our three last sovereigns: but I must now warn you to prepare for clouds
and storms. Factions arise on every side, and threaten the tranquillity
of your native country. But whatever happen, do you faithfully honor and
obey your prince, and adhere to the crown. I charge you never to forsake
the crown, though it should hang upon a bush." "These last words,"
added Windham, "made such impressions on all our breasts, that the
many afflictions of these sad times could never efface their indelible
characters." From innumerable instances, it appears how deep rooted,
in the minds of the English gentry of that age, was the principle of
loyalty to their sovereign; that noble and generous principle, inferior
only in excellence to the more enlarged and more enlightened affection
towards a legal constitution. But during those times of military
usurpation, these passions were the same.
The king continued several days in Windham's house; and all his friends
in Britain, and in every part of Europe, remained in the most anxious
suspense with regard to his fortunes: no one could conjecture whether
he were dead or alive; and the report of his death, being generally
believed, happily relaxed the vigilant search of his enemies. Trials
were made to procure a vessel for his escape; but he still met with
disappointments. Having left Windham's house, he was obliged again to
return to it. He passed through many other adventures; assumed different
disguises; in every step was exposed to imminent perils and received
daily proofs of uncorrupted fidelity and attachment. The sagacity of a
smith, who remarked that his horse's shoes had been made in the north,
not in the west, as he pretended, once detected him; and he narrowly
escaped. At Shoreham, in Sussex, a vessel was at last found, in which he
embarked. He had been known to so many, that if he had not set sail in
that critical moment, it had been impossible for him to escape. After
one and forty days' concealment, he arrived safely at Fescamp, in
Normandy. No less than forty men and women had at different times been
privy to his concealment and escape.[*]
The battle of Worcester, afforded Cromwell what he called his "crowning
mercy."[**] So elated was he, that he intended to have knighted in the
field two of his generals, Lambert and Fleetwood; but was dissuaded by
his friends from exerting this act of regal authority. His power and
ambition were too great to brook submission to the empty name of a
republic, which stood chiefly by his influence, and was supported by his
victories. How early he entertained thoughts of taking into his hand
the reins of government, is uncertain. We are only assured, that he
now discovered to his intimate friends these aspiring views; and
even expressed a desire of assuming the rank of king, which he had
contributed with such seeming zeal to abolish.[***]
The little popularity and credit acquired by the republicans, further
stimulated the ambition of this enterprising politician. These men
had not that large thought, nor those comprehensive views, which might
qualify them for acting the part of legislators: selfish aims and
bigotry chiefly engrossed their attention. They carried their rigid
austerity so far as to enact a law declaring fornication, after the
first act, to be felony, without benefit of clergy.[****] They made
small progress in that important work which they professed to have so
much at heart, the settling of a new model of representation, and a
bill was introduced into the house against painting, patches, and other
immodest dress of women; but it did not pass.[v]
* Heath's Chronicle, p. 301.
** Parl. Hist. vol. xx. p. 47.
*** Whitlocke, p. 523.
**** Scobel, p. 121.
v Parl. Hist. vol. xix. p. 263.
The nation began to apprehend that they intended to establish themselves
as a perpetual legislature, and to confine the whole power to sixty
or seventy persons, who called themselves the parliament of the
commonwealth of England. And while they pretended to bestow new
liberties upon the nation, they found themselves obliged to infringe
even the most valuable of those which, through time immemorial, had been
transmitted from their ancestors. Not daring to intrust the trials
of treason to juries, who, being chosen indifferently from among the
people, would have been little favorable to the commonwealth, and would
have formed their verdict upon the ancient laws, they eluded that noble
institution, by which the government of this island has ever been so
much distinguished. They had evidently seen in the trial of Lilburn what
they could expect from juries. This man, the most turbulent, but the
most upright and courageous of human kind, was tried for a transgression
of the new statute of treasons: but though he was plainly guilty, he was
acquitted, to the great joy of the people. Westminster Hall, nay, the
whole city, rang with shouts and acclamations. Never did any established
power receive so strong a declaration of its usurpation and invalidity;
and from no institution, besides the admirable one of juries, could be
expected this magnanimous effort.
That they might not for the future be exposed to affronts which so
much lessened their authority, the parliament erected a high court of
justice, which was to receive indictments from the council of state.
This court was composed of men devoted to the ruling party, without name
or character, determined to sacrifice every thing to their own safety
or ambition. Colonel Eusebius Andrews and Colonel Walter Slingsby were
tried by this court for conspiracies, and condemned to death. They were
royalists, and refused to plead before so illegal a jurisdiction. Love,
Gibbons, and other Presbyterians, having entered into a plot against the
republic, were also tried, condemned, and executed. The earl of Derby,
Sir Timothy Featherstone, Bemboe, being taken prisoners after the battle
of Worcester, were put to death by sentence of a court martial; a method
of proceeding declared illegal by that very petition of right, for which
a former parliament had so strenuously contended, and which, after great
efforts, they had extorted from the king.
Excepting their principles of toleration, the maxims by which the
republicans regulated ecclesiastical affairs no more prognosticated
any durable settlement, than those by which they conducted their
civil concerns. The Presbyterian model of congregations, classes, and
assemblies was not allowed to be finished: it seemed even the intention
of many leaders in the parliament to admit of no established church, and
to leave every one, without any guidance of the magistrate, to embrace
whatever sect and to support whatever clergy were most agreeable to him.
The parliament went so far as to make some approaches, in one province,
to their Independent model. Almost all the clergy of Wales being ejected
as malignants, itinerant preachers with small salaries were settled,
not above four or five in each county; and these, being furnished with
horses at the public expense, hurried from place to place, and carried,
as they expressed themselves, the glad tidings of the gospel.[*] They
were all of them men of the lowest birth and education, who had deserted
mechanical trades, in order to follow this new profession. And in this
particular, as well as in their wandering life, they pretended to be
more truly apostolical.
* Dr. John Walker's Attempt, p. 147, et seq.
The republicans, both by the turn of their disposition, and by the
nature of the instruments which they employed, were better qualified
for acts of force and vigor, than for the slow and deliberate work
of legislation. Notwithstanding the late wars and bloodshed, and
the present factions, the power of England had never, in any period,
appeared so formidable to the neighboring kingdoms as it did at this
time, in the hands of the commonwealth. A numerous army served equally
to retain every one in implicit subjection to established authority, and
to strike a terror into foreign nations. The power of peace and war was
lodged in the same hands with that of imposing taxes; and no difference
of views, among the several members of the legislature, could any longer
be apprehended. The present impositions, though much superior to what
had ever formerly been experienced, were in reality moderate, and what
a nation so opulent could easily bear. The military genius of the people
had, by the civil contests, been roused from its former lethargy; and
excellent officers were formed in every branch of service. The confusion
into which all things had been thrown, had given opportunity to men of
low stations to break through their obscurity, and to raise themselves
by their courage to commands which they were well qualified to exercise,
but to which their birth could never have entitled them. And while so
great a power was lodged in such active hands, no wonder the republic
was successful in all its enterprises.
Blake, a man of great courage and a generous disposition the same person
who had defended Lyme and Taunten with such unshaken obstinacy against
the late king, was made an admiral; and though he had hitherto been
accustomed only to land service, into which, too, he had not entered
till past fifty years of age, he soon raised the naval glory of the
nation to a greater height than it had ever attained in any former
period. A fleet was put under his command, and he received orders to
pursue Prince Rupert, to whom the king had intrusted that squadron
which had deserted to him. Rupert took shelter in Kinsale; and escaping
thence, fled towards the coast of Portugal. Blake pursued, and chased
him into the Tagus, where he intended to make an attack upon him. But
the king of Portugal, moved by the favor which throughout all Europe
attended the royal cause, refused Blake admittance, and aided Prince
Rupert in making his escape. To be revenged of this partiality, the
English admiral made prize of twenty Portuguese ships, richly laden; and
he threatened still further vengeance. The king of Portugal, dreading
so dangerous a foe to his newly-acquired dominion, and sensible of the
unequal contest in which he was engaged, made all possible submissions
to the haughty republic, and was at last admitted to negotiate the
renewal of his alliance with England. Prince Rupert, having lost a great
part of his squadron on the coast of Spain, made sail towards the
West Indies. His brother, Prince Maurice, was there shipwrecked in
a hurricane. Every where this squadron subsisted by privateering,
sometimes on English, sometimes on Spanish vessels. And Rupert at last
returned to France, where he disposed of the remnants of his fleet,
together with his prizes.
All the settlements in America, except New England, which had been
planted entirely by the Puritans, adhered to the royal party, even after
the settlement of the republic; and Sir George Ayscue was sent with
a squadron to reduce them. Bermudas, Antigua, and Virginia were soon
subdued. Barbadoes, commanded by Lord Willoughby of Parham, made some
resistance; but was at last obliged to submit.
With equal ease were Jersey, Guernsey, Scilly, and the Isle of Man
brought under subjection to the republic; and the sea, which had been
much infested by privateers from these islands, was rendered safe to the
English commerce. The countess of Derby defended the Isle of Man; and
with great reluctance yielded to the necessity of surrendering to the
enemy. This lady, a daughter of the illustrious house of Trimoille,
in France, had, during the civil war, displayed a manly courage by her
obstinate defence of Latham House against the parliamentary forces; and
she retained the glory of being the last person in the three kingdoms,
and in all their dependent dominions, who submitted to the victorious
commonwealth.[*] [24]
* See note X, at the end of the volume.
Ireland and Scotland were now entirely subjected, and reduced to
tranquillity. Ireton, the new deputy of Ireland, at the head of a
numerous army, thirty thousand strong, prosecuted the work of subduing
the revolted Irish; and he defeated them in many rencounters, which,
though of themselves of no great moment, proved fatal to their declining
cause. He punished without mercy all the prisoners who had any hand in
the massacres. Sir Phelim O'Neale, among the rest, was some time after
brought to the gibbet, and suffered an ignominious death, which he had
so well merited by his inhuman cruelties. Limeric, a considerable town,
still remained in the hands of the Irish; and Ireton, after a vigorous
siege, made himself master of it. He was here infected with the plague,
and shortly after died; a memorable personage, much celebrated for his
vigilance, industry, capacity even for the strict execution of justice
in that unlimited command which he possessed in Ireland. He was observed
to be inflexible in all his purposes; and it was believed by many that
he was animated with a sincere and passionate love of liberty, and
never could have been induced by any motive to submit to the smallest
appearance of regal government. Cromwell appeared to be much affected
by his death; and the republicans, who reposed great confidence in him,
were inconsolable. To show their regard for his merit and services,
they bestowed an estate of two thousand pounds a year on his family, and
honored him with a magnificent funeral at the public charge. Though the
established government was but the mere shadow of a commonwealth, yet
was it beginning by proper arts, to encourage that public spirit, which
no other species of civil polity is ever able fully to inspire.
The command of the army in Ireland devolved on Lieutenant-General Ludlow.
The civil government of the island was intrusted to commissioners.
Ludlow continued to push the advantages against the Irish, and every
where obtained an easy victory. That unhappy people, disgusted with the
king on account of those violent declarations against them and their
religion which had been extorted by the Scots, applied to the king
of Spain, to the duke of Lorraine; and found assistance nowhere.
Clanricarde, unable to resist the prevailing power, made submissions to
the parliament, and retired into England, where he soon after died. He
was a steady Catholic, but a man much respected by all parties.
The successes which attended Monk in Scotland were no less decisive.
That able general laid siege to Stirling Castle, and though it was well
provided for defence, it was soon surrendered to him. He there became
master of all the records of the kingdom; and he sent them to England.
The earl of Leven, the earl of Crawford, Lord Ogilvy, and other
noblemen, having met near Perth, in order to concert measures for
raising a new army, were suddenly set upon by Colonel Alured, and most
of them taken prisoners. Sir Philip Musgrave, with some Scots, being
engaged at Dumfries in a like enterprise, met with a like fate. Dundee
was a town well fortified, supplied with a good garrison under Lumisden,
and full of all the rich furniture, the plate and money of the kingdom,
which had been sent thither as to a place of safety. Monk appeared
before it; and having made a breach, gave a general assault. He carried
the town; and following the example and instructions of Cromwell, put
all the inhabitants to the sword, in order to strike a general terror
into the kingdom. Warned by this example, Aberdeen, St. Andrew's,
Inverness, and other towns and forts, yielded of their own accord to
the enemy. Argyle made his submissions to the English commonwealth;
and excepting a few royalists, who remained some time in the mountains,
under the earl of Glencairn, Lord Balcarras, and General Middleton,
that kingdom, which had hitherto, through all ages, by means of its
situation, poverty, and valor, maintained its independence, was reduced
to total subjection.
The English parliament sent Sir Harry Vane, St. John, and other
commissioners to settle Scotland. These men, who possessed little of the
true spirit of liberty, knew how to maintain the appearance of it; and
they required the voluntary consent of all the counties and towns of
this conquered kingdom, before they would unite them into the same
commonwealth with England. The clergy protested; because, they said,
this incorporating union would draw along with it a subordination of the
church to the state in the things of Christ.[*] English judges, joined
to some Scottish, were appointed to determine all causes; justice was
strictly administered; order and peace maintained; and the Scots, freed
from the tyranny of the ecclesiastics, were not much dissatisfied with
the present government.[**] [25] The prudent conduct of Monk, a man who
possessed a capacity for the arts both of peace and war, served much to
reconcile the minds of men, and to allay their prejudices.
{1652.} By the total reduction and pacification of the British
dominions, the parliament had leisure to look abroad, and to exert their
vigor in foreign enterprises. The Dutch were the first that felt the
weight of their arms.
During the life of Frederic Henry, prince of Orange, the Dutch republic
had maintained a neutrality in the civil wars of England, and had never
interposed, except by her good offices, between the contending parties.
When William, who had married an English princess, succeeded to his
father's commands and authority,[***] the states, both before and
after the execution of the late king, were accused of taking steps more
favorable to the royal cause, and of betraying a great prejudice against
that of the parliament. It was long before the envoy of the English
commonwealth could obtain an audience of the states general. The
murderers of Dorislaus were not pursued with such vigor as the
parliament expected. And much regard had been paid to the king, and many
good offices performed to him, both by the public, and by men of all
ranks, in the United Provinces.
After the death of William, prince of Orange,[****] which was
attended with the depression of his party and the triumph of the Dutch
republicans, the parliament thought that the time was now favorable for
cementing a closer confederacy with the states.
* Whitlocke, p. 496. Heathe's Chronicle, p. 307.
** See note Y, at the end of the volume.
*** 1647.
**** October 17, 1650.
St. John, chief justice, who was sent over to the Hague, had entertained
the idea of forming a kind of coalition between the two republics, which
would have rendered their interests totally inseparable; but fearing
that so extraordinary a project would not be relished, he contented
himself with dropping some hints of it, and openly went no further than
to propose a strict defensive alliance between England and the United
Provinces, such as has now, for near seventy years taken place between
these friendly powers.[*] But the states, who were unwilling to form a
nearer confederacy with a government whose measures were so obnoxious,
and whose situation seemed so precarious, offered only to renew the
former alliances with England. And the haughty St. John, disgusted with
this disappointment, as well as incensed at many affronts which had been
offered him with impunity by the retainers of the Palatine and Orange
families, and indeed by the populace in general, returned into England,
and endeavored to foment a quarrel between the republics.
The movement of great states are often directed by as slender springs as
those of individuals. Though war with so considerable a naval power as
the Dutch, who were in peace with all their other neighbors, might seem
dangerous to the yet unsettled commonwealth, there were several motives
which at this time induced the English parliament to embrace hostile
measures. Many of the members thought, that a foreign war would serve
as a pretence for continuing the same parliament, and delaying the
new model of a representative, with which the nation had so long
been flattered. Others hoped, that the war would furnish a reason for
maintaining, some time longer, that numerous standing army, which was so
much complained of.[**]
* Thurloe, vol. i. p. 182.
** We are told, in the Life of Sir Harry Vane, that that
famous republican opposed the Dutch war, and that it was the
military gentlemen chiefly who supported that measure.
On the other hand, some, who dreaded the increasing power of Cromwell,
expected that the great expense of naval armaments would prove a motive
for diminishing the military establishment. To divert the attention of
the public from domestic quarrels towards foreign transactions, seemed,
in the present disposition of men's minds, to be good policy. The
superior power of the English commonwealth, together with its advantages
of situation, promised success; and the parliamentary leaders hoped
to gain many rich prizes from the Dutch, to distress and sink their
flourishing commerce, and by victories to throw a lustre on their own
establishment, which was so new and unpopular. All these views,
enforced by the violent spirit of St. John, who had great influence over
Crom-well, determined the parliament to change the purposed alliance
into a furious war against the United Provinces.
To cover these hostile intentions, the parliament, under pretence of
providing for the interests of commerce, embraced such measures as they
knew would give disgust to the states. They framed the famous act of
navigation; which prohibited all nations from importing into England in
their bottoms any commodity which was not the growth and manufacture
of their own country. By this law, though the terms in which it was
conceived were general, the Dutch were principally affected; because
their country produces few commodities, and they subsist chiefly by
being the general carriers and factors of Europe. Letters of reprisal
were granted to several merchants, who complained of injuries which,
they pretended, they had received from the states; and above eighty
Dutch ships fell into their hands, and were made prizes. The cruelties
committed on the English at Amboyna, which were certainly enormous, but
which seemed to be buried in oblivion by a thirty years' silence, were
again made the ground of complaint. And the allowing the murderers of
Dorislaus to escape, and the conniving at the insults to which St. John
had been exposed, were represented as symptoms of an unfriendly, if not
a hostile disposition in the states.
The states, alarmed at all these steps, sent orders to their ambassadors
to endeavor the renewal of the treaty of alliance, which had been broken
off by the abrupt departure of St. John. Not to be unprepared, they
equipped a fleet of a hundred and fifty sail, and took care, by
their ministers at London, to inform the council of the state of that
armament. This intelligence, instead of striking terror into the
English republic, was considered as a menace, and further confirmed the
parliament in their hostile resolutions. The minds of men in both states
were every day more irritated against each other; and it was not long
before these humors broke forth into action.
Tromp, an admiral of great renown, received from the states the command
of a fleet of forty-two sail, in order to protect the Dutch navigation
against the privateers of the English. He was forced by stress of
weather, as he alleged, to take shelter in the road of Dover, where he
met with Blake, who commanded an English fleet much inferior in number.
Who was the aggressor in the action which ensued between these two
admirals, both of them men of such prompt and fiery dispositions, it
is not easy to determine; since each of them sent to his own state a
relation totally opposite in all its circumstances to that of the other,
and yet supported by the testimony of every captain in his fleet. Blake
pretended, that having given a signal to the Dutch admiral to strike,
Tromp, instead of complying, fired a broadside at him. Tromp asserted,
that he was preparing to strike, and that the English admiral,
nevertheless, began hostilities. It is certain that the admiralty of
Holland, who are distinct from the council of state, had given Tromp no
orders to strike, but had left him to his own discretion with regard
to that vain but much contested ceremonial. They seemed willing to
introduce the claim of an equality with the new commonwealth, and to
interpret the former respect paid the English flag as a deference due
only to the monarchy. This circumstance forms a strong presumption
against the narrative of the Dutch admiral. The whole Orange party, it
must be remarked, to which Tromp was suspected to adhere, was desirous
of a war with England.
Blake, though his squadron consisted only of fifteen vessels,
reënforced, after the battle began, by eight under Captain Bourne,
maintained the fight with bravery for five hours, and sunk one ship of
the enemy, and took another. Night parted the combatants, and the Dutch
fleet retired towards the coast of Holland. The populace of London were
enraged, and would have insulted the Dutch ambassadors, who lived at
Chelsea, had not the council of state sent guards to protect them.
When the states heard of this action, of which the consequences were
easily foreseen, they were in the utmost consternation. They immediately
despatched Paw, pensionary of Holland, as their ambassador extraordinary
to London, and ordered him to lay before the parliament the narrative
which Tromp had sent of the late rencounter. They entreated them, by
all the bands of their common religion and common liberties, not
to precipitate themselves into hostile measures, but to appoint
commissioners, who should examine every circumstance of the action, and
clear up the truth, which lay in obscurity. And they pretended, that
they had given no orders to their admiral to offer any violence to the
English, but would severely punish him, if they found, upon inquiry,
that he had been guilty of an action which they so much disapproved.
The imperious parliament would hearken to none of these reasons or
remonstrances. Elated by the numerous successes which they had obtained
over their domestic enemies, they thought that every thing must yield to
their fortunate arms; and they gladly seized the opportunity, which they
sought, of making war upon the states. They demanded that, without any
further delay or inquiry, reparation should be made for all the damages
which the English had sustained. And when this demand was not complied
with, they despatched orders for commencing war against the United
Provinces.
Blake sailed northwards with a numerous fleet, and fell upon the herring
busses, which were escorted by twelve men-of-war. All these he either
took or dispersed. Tromp followed him with a fleet of above a hundred
sail. When these two admirals were within sight of each other, and
preparing for battle, a furious storm attacked them. Blake took shelter
in the English harbors. The Dutch fleet was dispersed, and received
great damage.
Sir George Ayscue, though he commanded only forty ships, according to
the English accounts, engaged near Plymouth the famous De Ruiter, who
had under him fifty ships of war, with thirty merchantmen. The Dutch
ships were indeed of inferior force to the English. De Ruiter, the
only admiral in Europe who has attained a renown equal to that of
the greatest general, defended himself so well, that Ayscue gained
no advantage over him. Night parted them in the greatest heat of the
action. De Ruiter next day sailed off with his convoy. The English fleet
had been so shattered in the fight, that it was not able to pursue.
Near the coast of Kent, Blake, seconded by Bourne and Pen, met a Dutch
squadron, nearly equal in numbers, commanded by De Witte and De Ruiter.
A battle was fought, much to the disadvantage of the Dutch. Their
rear-admiral was boarded and taken. Two other vessels were sunk, and one
blown up. The Dutch next day made sail towards Holland.
The English were not so successful in the Mediterranean. Van Galen,
with much superior force, attacked Captain Badily, and defeated him. He
bought, however, his victory with the loss of his life.
Sea fights are seldom so decisive as to disable the vanquished from
making head in a little time against the victors. Tromp, seconded by De
Ruiter, met near the Goodwins, with Blake; whose fleet was inferior to
the Dutch, but who resolved not to decline the combat. A furious battle
commenced where the admirals on both sides, as well as the inferior
officers and seamen, exerted great bravery. In this action the Dutch had
the advantage. Blake himself was wounded. The Garland and Bonaventure
were taken. Two ships were burned, and one sunk; and night came
opportunely to save the English fleet. After this victory, Tromp, in a
bravado fixed a broom to his mainmast; as if he were resolved to sweep
the sea entirely of all English vessels.
{1653.} Great preparations were made in England, in order to wipe off
this disgrace. A gallant fleet of eighty sail was fitted out. Blake
commanded, and Dean under him, together with Monk, who had been sent for
from Scotland. When the English lay off Portland, they descried, near
break of day, a Dutch fleet of seventy-six vessels, sailing up the
Channel, along with a convoy of three hundred merchantmen, who had
received orders, to wait at the Isle of Rhé, till the fleet should
arrive to escort them. Tromp, and under him De Ruiter, commanded the
Dutch. This battle was the most furious that had yet been fought between
these warlike and rival nations. Three days was the combat continued
with the utmost rage and obstinacy; and Blake, who was victor, gained
not more honor than Tromp, who was vanquished. The Dutch admiral made
a skilful retreat, and saved all the merchant ships, except thirty. He
lost, however, eleven ships of war, had two thousand men slain, and near
fifteen hundred taken prisoners. The English, though many of their ships
were extremely shattered, had but one sunk. Their slain were not much
inferior in number to those of the enemy.
All these successes of the English were chiefly owing to the superior
size of their vessels; an advantage which all the skill and bravery
of the Dutch admirals could not compensate. By means of ship money, an
imposition which had been so much complained of, and in some respects
with reason, the late king had put the navy into a situation which it
had never attained in any former reign; and he ventured to build ships
of a size which was then unusual. But the misfortunes which the Dutch
met with in battle, were small in comparison of those which their trade
sustained from the English. Their whole commerce by the Channel was cut
off: even that to the Baltic was much infested by English privateers.
Their fisheries were totally suspended. A great number of their ships,
above sixteen hundred, had fallen into the hands of the enemy. And
all this distress they suffered, not for any national interests or
necessity, but from vain points of honor and personal resentments, of
which it was difficult to give a satisfactory account to the public.
They resolved therefore to gratify the pride of the parliament, and
to make some advances towards peace. They met not, however, with a
favorable reception; and it was not without pleasure that they learned
the dissolution of that haughty assembly by the violence of Cromwell; an
even from which they expected a more prosperous turn to their affairs.
The zealous republicans in the parliament had not been the chief or
first promoters of the war; but, when it was once entered upon, they
endeavored to draw from it every possible advantage. On all occasions,
they set up the fleet in opposition to the army, and celebrated the
glory and successes of their naval armaments. They insisted on the
intolerable expense to which the nation was subjected, and urged the
necessity of diminishing it by a reduction of the land forces. They had
ordered some regiments to serve on board the fleet in the quality
of marines. And Cromwell, by the whole train of their proceedings,
evidently saw that they had entertained a jealousy of his power and
ambition, and were resolved to bring him to a subordination under their
authority. Without scruple or delay, he resolved to prevent them.
On such firm foundations was built the credit of this extraordinary
man, that though a great master of fraud and dissimulation, he judged it
superfluous to employ any disguise in conducting this bold enterprise.
He summoned a general council of officers; and immediately found, that
they were disposed to receive whatever impressions he was pleased to
give them. Most of them were his creatures, had owed their advancement
to his favor, and relied entirely upon him for their future preferment.
The breach being already made between the military and civil powers,
when the late king was seized at Holdenby, the general officers regarded
the parliament as at once their creature and their rival; and thought,
that they themselves were entitled to share among them those offices
and riches, of which its members had so long kept possession. Harrison,
Rich, Overton, and a few others, who retained some principle, were
guided by notions so extravagant, that they were easily deluded into
measures the most violent and most criminal. And the whole army had
already been guilty of such illegal and atrocious actions, that they
could entertain no further scruple with regard to any enterprise which
might serve their selfish or fanatical purposes.
In the council of officers it was presently voted to frame a
remonstrance to the parliament. After complaining of the arrears due to
the army, they there desired the parliament to reflect how many years
they had sitten, and what professions they had formerly made of their
intentions to new model the representative, and establish successive
parliaments, who might bear the burden of national affairs, from which
they themselves would gladly, after so much danger and fatigue, be at
last relieved. They confessed that the parliament had achieved great
enterprises, and had surmounted mighty difficulties; yet was it an
injury, they said, to the rest of the nation to be excluded from bearing
any part in the service of their country. It was now full time for them
to give place to others; and they therefore desired them, after settling
a council, who might execute the laws during the interval, to summon a
new parliament, and establish that free and equal government which they
had so long promised to the people.
The parliament took this remonstrance in ill part, and made a sharp
reply to the council of officers. The officers insisted on their advice;
and by mutual altercation and opposition, the breach became still wider
between the army and the commonwealth. Cromwell, finding matters ripe
for his purpose, called a council of officers, in order to come to a
determination with regard to the public settlement. As he had here many
friends, so had he also some opponents. Harrison having assured the
council, that the general sought only to pave the way for the government
of Jesus and his saints, Major Streater briskly replied, that Jesus
ought then to come quickly: for if he delayed it till after Christmas,
he would come too late; he would find his place occupied. While the
officers were in debate, Colonel Ingoldsby informed Cromwell, that the
parliament was sitting, and had come to a resolution not to dissolve
themselves, but to fill up the house by new elections; and was at
that very time engaged in deliberations with regard to this expedient.
Cromwell in a rage immediately hastened to the house, and carried a body
of three hundred soldiers along with him. Some of them he placed at the
door, some in the lobby, some on the stairs. He first addressed himself
to his friend St. John, and told him that he had come with a purpose of
doing what grieved him to the very soul, and what he had earnestly
with tears besought the Lord not to impose upon him: but there was a
necessity, in order to the glory of God and good of the nation. He sat
down for some time, and heard the debate. He beckoned Harrison, and told
him that he now judged the parliament ripe for a dissolution. "Sir,"
said Harrison "the work is very great and dangerous: I desire you
seriously to consider, before you engage in it." "You say well," replied
the general; and thereupon sat still about a quarter of an hour. When
the question was ready to be put, he said again to Harrison, "This
is the time: I must do it." And suddenly starting up, he loaded the
parliament with the vilest reproaches, for their tyranny, ambition,
oppression, and robbery of the public. Then stamping with his foot,
which was a signal for the soldiers to enter, "For shame," said he to
the parliament, "get you gone: give place to honester men; to those
who will more faithfully discharge their trust. You are no longer a
parliament. I tell you, you are no longer a parliament. The Lord has
done with you: he has chosen other instruments for carrying on his
work." Sir Harry Vane exclaiming against this proceeding, he cried with
a loud voice, "O! Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane! The Lord deliver me
from Sir Harry Vane!" Taking hold of Martin by the cloak, "Thou art a
whoremaster," said he; to another, "Thou art an adulterer;" to a third,
"Thou art a drunkard and a glutton;" "And thou an extortioner," to a
fourth. He commanded a soldier to seize the mace. "What shall we do with
this bauble? Here, take it away. It is you," said he, addressing himself
to the house, "that have forced me upon this. I have sought the Lord
night and day, that he would rather slay me than put me upon this work."
Having commanded the soldiers to clear the hall, he himself went out the
last, and ordering the doors to be locked, departed to his lodgings in
Whitehall.
In this furious manner, which so well denotes his genuine character, did
Cromwell, without the least opposition, or even murmur, annihilate that
famous assembly, which had filled all Europe with the renown of its
actions, and with astonishment at its crimes, and whose commencement was
not more ardently desired by the people than was its final dissolution.
All parties now reaped successively the melancholy pleasure of seeing
the injuries which they had suffered, revenged on their enemies, and
that too by the same arts which had been practised against them. The
king had, in some instances, stretched his prerogative beyond its just
bounds; and aided by the church, had well nigh put an end to all the
liberties and privileges of the nation. The Presbyterians checked the
progress of the court and clergy, and excited, by cant and hypocrisy,
the populace, first to tumults, then to war against the king, the
peers, and all the royalists. No sooner had they reached the pinnacle of
grandeur, than the Independents, under the appearance of still greater
sanctity, instigated the army against them, and reduced them to
subjection. The Independents, amidst their empty dreams of liberty,
or rather of dominion, were oppressed by the rebellion of their own
servants, and found themselves at once exposed to the insults of power
and hatred of the people. By recent, as well as all ancient example, it
was become evident, that illegal violence, with whatever preferences it
may be covered, and whatever object it may pursue, must inevitably end
at last in the arbitrary and despotic government of a single person.