was contrary to the principles of natural equity, and which the civil
magistrate had no right to order. Individuals, they maintained, in
resigning to the public their natural liberty, could bestow on it only
what they themselves were possessed of, a right of performing lawful
actions, and could invest it with no authority of commanding what
is contrary to the decrees of Heaven. Such maxims, though they seem
reasonable, are perhaps too perfect for human nature; and must be
regarded as one effect, though of the most innocent and even honorable
kind, of that spirit, partly fanatical, partly republican, which
predominated in England.
Blake lay some time off Cadiz, in expectation of intercepting the Plate
fleet, but was at last obliged, for want of water, to make sail towards
Portugal. Captain Stayner, whom he had left on the coast with a squadron
of seven vessels, came in sight of the galleons, and immediately set
sail to pursue them. The Spanish admiral ran his ship ashore: two others
followed his example: the English took two ships, valued at near two
millions of pieces of eight. Two galleons were set on fire; and the
marquis of Badajox, viceroy of Peru, with his wife, and his daughter,
betrothed to the young duke of Medina Celi, were destroyed in them. The
marquis himself might have escaped; but seeing these unfortunate women,
astonished with the danger, fall in a swoon, and perish in the flames,
he rather chose to die with them, than drag out a life imbittered with
the remembrance of such dismal scenes.[*] When the treasures gained by
this enterprise arrived at Portsmouth, the protector, from a spirit of
ostentation, ordered them to be transported by land to London.
* Thurloe, vol. v. p. 433.
The next action against the Spaniards was more honorable, though less
profitable, to the nation. Blake, having heard that a Spanish fleet of
sixteen ships, much richer than the former, had taken shelter in the
Canaries, immediately made sail towards them. He found them in the Bay
of Santa Cruz, disposed in a formidable posture. The bay was secured
with a strong castle, well provided with cannon, besides seven forts in
several parts of it, all united by a line of communication, manned with
musketeers. Don Diego Diagues, the Spanish admiral, ordered all his
smaller vessels to moor close to the shore, and posted the larger
galleons farther off, at anchor, with their broadsides to the sea.
Blake was rather animated than daunted with this appearance. The wind
seconded his courage, and blowing full into the bay, in a moment brought
him among the thickest of his enemies. After a resistance of four hours,
the Spaniards yielded to English valor, and abandoned their ships, which
were set on fire, and consumed with all their treasure. The greatest
danger still remained to the English. They lay under the fire of the
castle and all the forts, which must in a little time have torn them in
pieces. But the wind, suddenly shifting, carried them out of the bay;
where they left the Spaniards in astonishment at the happy temerity of
their audacious victors.
This was the last and greatest action of the gallant Blake. He was
consumed with a dropsy and scurvy, and hastened home, that he might
yield up his breath in his native country, which he had so much adorned
by his valor. As he came within sight of land, he expired.[*]
* 20th of April, 1657.
Never man, so zealous for a faction, was so much respected and esteemed
even by the opposite factions. He was by principle an inflexible
republican; and the late usurpations, amidst all the trust and caresses
which he received from the ruling powers, were thought to be very little
grateful to him. "It is still our duty," he said to the seamen, "to
fight for our country, into what hands soever the government may fall."
Disinterested, generous, liberal; ambitious only of true glory, dreadful
only to his avowed enemies; he forms one of the most perfect characters
of the age, and the least stained with those errors and violences which
were then so predominant. The protector ordered him a pompous funeral
at the public charge: but the tears of his countrymen were the most
honorable panegyric on his memory.
The conduct of the protector in foreign affairs, though imprudent and
impolitic, was full of vigor and enterprise, and drew a consideration
to his country, which, since the reign of Elizabeth, it seemed to have
totally lost. The great mind of this successful usurper was intent on
spreading the renown of the English nation; and while he struck mankind
with astonishment at his extraordinary fortune, he seemed to ennoble
instead of debasing, that people whom he had reduced to subjection. It
was his boast, that he would render the name of an Englishman as much
feared and revered as ever was that of a Roman; and as his countrymen
found some reality in these pretensions, their national vanity, being
gratified, made them bear with more patience all the indignities and
calamities under which they labored.
It must also be acknowledged, that the protector, in his civil and
domestic administration, displayed as great regard both to justice and
clemency, as his usurped authority, derived from no law, and founded
only on the sword, could possibly permit. All the chief offices in
the courts of judicature were filled with men of integrity: amidst
the virulence of faction, the decrees of the judges were upright and
impartial; and to every man but himself, and to himself, except where
necessity required the contrary, the law was the great rule of conduct
and behavior. Vane and Lilburn, whose credit with the republicans and
levellers he dreaded, were indeed for some time confined to prison:
Cony, who refused to pay illegal taxes, was obliged by menaces to depart
from his obstinacy: high courts of justice were erected to try those who
had engaged in conspiracies and insurrections against the protector's
authority, and whom he could not safely commit to the verdict of juries.
But these irregularities were deemed inevitable consequences of his
illegal authority. And though often urged by his officers, as is
pretended,[*] to attempt a general massacre of the royalists, he always
with horror rejected such sanguinary counsels.
* Clarendon, Life of Lord Berwick, etc.
In the army was laid the sole basis of the protector's power; and in
managing it consisted the chief art and delicacy of his government. The
soldiers were held in exact discipline; a policy which both accustomed
them to obedience, and made them less hateful and burdensome to the
people. He augmented their pay; though the public necessities sometimes
obliged him to run in arrears to them. Their interests, they were
sensible, were closely connected with those of their general and
protector. And he entirely commanded their affectionate regard, by his
abilities and success in almost every enterprise which he had hitherto
undertaken. But all military government is precarious; much more where
it stands in opposition to civil establishments; and still more where
it encounters religious prejudices. By the wild fanaticism which he had
nourished in the soldiers, he had seduced them into measures, for which,
if openly proposed to them, they would have entertained the utmost
aversion. But this same spirit rendered them more difficult to be
governed, and made their caprices terrible even to that hand which
directed their movements. So often taught, that the office of king was
a usurpation upon Christ, they were apt to suspect a protector not to
be altogether compatible with that divine authority. Harrison, though
raised to the highest dignity, and possessed of Cromwell's confidence,
became his most inveterate enemy as soon as the authority of a single
person was established, against which that usurper had always made such
violent protestations. Overton, Rich, Okey, officers of rank in the
army, were actuated with like principles, and Cromwell was obliged to
deprive them of their commissions. Their influence, which was before
thought unbounded among the troops, seemed from that moment to be
totally annihilated.
The more effectually to curb the enthusiastic and seditious spirit
of the troops, Cromwell established a kind of militia in the several
counties. Companies of infantry and cavalry were enlisted under proper
officers, regular pay distributed among them, and a resource by that
means provided both against the insurrections of the royalists and
mutiny of the army.
Religion can never be deemed a point of small consequence in civil
government: but during this period, it may be regarded as the great
spring of men's actions and determinations. Though transported himself
with the most frantic whimseys, Cromwell had adopted a scheme for
regulating this principle in others, which was sagacious and political.
Being resolved to maintain a national church, yet determined neither
to admit Episcopacy nor Presbytery, he established a number of
commissioners, under the name of tryers, partly laymen, partly
ecclesiastics, some Presbyterians, some Independents. These presented to
all livings which were formerly in the gift of the crown; they examined
and admitted such persons as received holy orders; and they inspected
the lives, doctrine, and behavior of the clergy. Instead of supporting
that union between learning and theology, which has so long been
attempted in Europe, these tryers embraced the latter principle in
its full purity, and made it the sole object of their examination.
The candidates were no more perplexed with questions concerning their
progress in Greek and Roman erudition; concerning their talent for
profane arts and sciences: the chief object of scrutiny regarded their
advances in grace, and fixing the critical moment of their conversion.
With the pretended saints of all denominations Cromwell was familiar and
easy. Laying aside the state of protector, which on other occasions
he well knew how to maintain, he insinuated to them, that nothing but
necessity could ever oblige him to invest himself with it. He talked
spiritually to *them; he sighed he wept, he canted, he prayed. He even
entered with them into an emulation of ghostly gifts, and these men,
instead of grieving to be outdone in their own way, were proud that
his highness, by his princely example, had dignified those practices in
which they themselves were daily occupied.[*]
* Cromwell followed, though but in part, the advice which he
received from General Harrison, at the time when the
intimacy and endearment most strongly subsisted betwixt
them. "Let the waiting upon Jehovah," said that military
saint, "be the greatest and most considerable business you
have every day: reckon it so, more than to eat, sleep, and
counsel together. Run aside sometimes from your company, and
get a word with the Lord. Why should not you have three or
four precious souls always standing at your elbow, with whom
you might now and then turn into a corner? I have found
refreshment and mercy in such a way."--Milton's State
Papers, p. 12.
If Cromwell might be said to adhere to any particular form of religion,
they were the Independents who could chiefly boast of his favor; and it
may be affirmed, that such pastors of that sect as were not passionately
addicted to civil liberty, were all of them devoted to him. The
Presbyterian clergy, also saved from the ravages of the Anabaptists and
Millenarians, and enjoying their establishments and tithes, were not
averse to his government; though he still entertained a great jealousy
of that ambitious and restless spirit by which they were actuated. He
granted an unbounded liberty of conscience to all but Catholics and
Prelatists; and by that means he both attached the wild sectaries to
his person, and employed them in curbing the domineering spirit of the
Presbyterians. "I am the only man," he was often heard to say, "who
has known how to subdue that insolent sect, which can suffer none but
itself."
The Protestant zeal which possessed the Presbyterians and Independents,
was highly gratified by the haughty manner in which the protector so
successfully supported the persecuted Protestants throughout all Europe.
Even the duke of Savoy, so remote a power, and so little exposed to
the naval force of England, was obliged, by the authority of France,
to comply with his mediation, and to tolerate the Protestants of the
valleys, against whom that prince had commenced a furious persecution.
France itself was constrained to bear, not only with the religion, but
even, in some instances, with the seditious insolence of the Hugonots;
and when the French court applied for a reciprocal toleration of the
Catholic religion in England, the protector, who arrogated in every
thing the superiority, would hearken to no such proposal. He had
entertained a project of instituting a college, in imitation of that
at Rome, for the propagation of the faith; and his apostles, in zeal,
though not in unanimity, had certainly been a full match for the
Catholics.
Cromwell retained the church of England in constraint though he
permitted its clergy a little more liberty than the Republican
parliament had formerly allowed. He was pleased that the superior lenity
of his administration should in every thing be remarked. He bridled the
royalists, both by the army which he retained, and by those secret spies
which he found means to intermix in all their counsels. Manning being
detected, and punished with death, he corrupted Sir Richard Willis, who
was much trusted by Chancellor Hyde and all the royalists; and by means
of this man he was let into every design and conspiracy of the party.
He could disconcert any project, by confining the persons who were to
be the actors in it; and as he restored them afterwards to liberty, his
severity passed only for the result of general jealousy and suspicion,
The secret source of his intelligence remained still unknown and
unsuspected.
Conspiracies for an assassination he was chiefly afraid of; these being
designs which no prudence or vigilance could evade. Colonel Titus, under
the name of Allen, had written a spirited discourse, exhorting every
one to embrace this method of vengeance; and Cromwell knew, that the
inflamed minds of the royal party were sufficiently disposed to put
the doctrine in practice against him. He openly told them, that
assassinations were base and odious, and he never would commence
hostilities by so shameful an expedient; but if the first attempt or
provocation came from them, he would retaliate to the uttermost. He had
instruments, he said, whom he could employ; and he never would desist
till he had totally exterminated the royal family. This menace, more
than all his guards, contributed to the security of his person.[*] [26]
* See note Z at the end of the volume.
There was no point about which the protector was more solicitous than
to procure intelligence. This article alone, it is said, cost him sixty
thousand pounds a year. Postmasters, both at home and abroad, were in
his pay: carriers were searched or bribed: secretaries and clerks were
corrupted the greatest zealots in all parties were often these who
conveyed private information to him: and nothing could escape his
vigilant inquiry. Such at least is the representation made by historians
of Cromwell's administration: but it must be confessed, that, if we
may judge by those volumes of Thurloe's papers which have been lately
published, this affair, like many others, has been greatly magnified.
We scarcely find by that collection, that any secret counsels of foreign
states, except those of Holland, which are not expected to be concealed,
were known to the protector.
The general behavior and deportment of this man, who had been raised
from a very private station, who had passed most of his youth in the
country, and who was still constrained so much to frequent bad company,
was such as might befit the greatest monarch. He maintained a dignity
without either affectation or ostentation; and supported with all
strangers that high idea with which his great exploits and prodigious
fortune had impressed them. Among his ancient friends, he could relax
himself; and by trifling and amusement, jesting and making verses, he
feared not exposing himself to their most familiar approaches.[*] With
others he sometimes pushed matters to the length of rustic buffoonery;
and he would amuse himself by putting burning coals into the boots and
hose of the officers who attended him.[**] Before the king's trial, a
meeting was agreed on between the chiefs of the republican party and the
general officers, in order to concert the model of that free
government which they were to substitute in the room of the monarchical
constitution now totally subverted. After debates on this subject, the
most important that could fall under the discussion of human creatures,
Ludlow tells us that Cromwell, by way of frolic, threw a cushion at his
head; and when Ludlow took up another cushion, in order to return the
compliment, the general ran down stairs, and had almost fallen in the
hurry. When the high court of justice was signing the warrant for
the execution of the king, a matter, if possible, still more serious,
Cromwell, taking the pen in his hand, before he subscribed his name,
bedaubed with ink the face of Martin, who sat next him. And the
pen being delivered to Martin, he practised the same frolic upon
Cromwell.[***]
* Whitlocke, p. 647.
** Bates.
*** Trial of the Regicides.
He frequently gave feasts to his inferior officers; and when the meat
was set upon the table, a signal was given; the soldiers rushed in upon,
them; and with much noise, tumult, and confusion, ran away with all the
dishes, and disappointed the guests of their expected meal.[*]
* Bates.
That vein of frolic and pleasantry which made a part, however
inconsistent, of Cromwell's character, was apt sometimes to betray him
into other inconsistencies, and to discover itself even where religion
might seem to be a little concerned. It is a tradition, that one day,
sitting at table, the protector had a bottle of wine brought him, of
a kind which he valued so highly, that he must needs open the bottle
himself; but in attempting it, the corkscrew dropped from his hand.
Immediately his courtiers and generals flung themselves on the floor to
recover it. Cromwell burst out a laughing. "Should any fool," said he,
"put in his head at the door, he would fancy, from your posture, that
you were seeking the Lord; and you are only seeking a corkscrew."
Amidst all the unguarded play and buffoonery of this singular personage,
he took the opportunity of remarking the characters, designs, and
weaknesses of men; and he would sometimes push them, by an indulgence
in wine, to open to him the most secret recesses of their bosom.
Great regularity, however, and even austerity of manners, were always
maintained in his court; and he was careful never by any liberties to
give offence to the most rigid of the godly. Some state was upheld;
but with little expense, and without any splendor. The nobility, though
courted by him, kept at a distance, and disdained to intermix with
those mean persons who were the instruments of his government. Without
departing from economy, he was generous to those who served him; and he
knew how to find out and engage in his interests every man possessed of
those talents which any particular employment demanded. His generals,
his admirals, his judges, his ambassadors, were persons who contributed,
all of them, in their several spheres, to the security of the protector,
and to the honor and interest of the nation.
Under pretence of uniting Scotland and Ireland in one commonwealth with
England, Cromwell had reduced those kingdoms to a total subjection;
and he treated them entirely as conquered provinces. The civil
administration of Scotland was placed in a council, consisting mostly of
English, of which Lord Broghile was president. Justice was administered
by seven judges, four of whom were English. In order to cure the
tyrannical nobility, he both abolished all vassalage,[*] and revived the
office of justice of peace, which King James had introduced, but was not
able to support.[**] A long line of forts and garrisons was maintained
throughout the kingdom. An army of ten thousand men[***] kept everything
in peace and obedience; and neither the banditti of the mountains nor
the bigots of the Low Countries could indulge their inclination to
turbulence and disorder. He courted the Presbyterian clergy though
he nourished that intestine enmity which prevailed between the
resolutioners and protesters; and he found that very little policy was
requisite to foment quarrels among theologians. He permitted no church
assemblies; being sensible that from thence had proceeded many of the
past disorders. And in the main, the Scots were obliged to acknowledge,
that never before, while they enjoyed their irregular, factious liberty,
had they attained so much happiness as at present, when reduced to
subjection under a foreign nation.
* Whitlocke, p. 570.
** Thurloe, vol. iv. p. 57.
*** Thurloe, vol. vi. p. 557.
The protector's administration of Ireland was more severe and violent.
The government of that island was first intrusted to Fleetwood, a
notorious fanatic, who had married Ireton's widow; then to Henry
Cromwell, second son of the protector, a young man of an amiable,
mild disposition, and not destitute of vigor and capacity. Above five
millions of acres, forfeited either by the Popish rebels or by the
adherents of the king, were divided, partly among the adventurers, who
had advanced money to the parliament, partly among the English soldiers,
who had arrears due to them. Examples of a more sudden and violent
change of property are scarcely to be found in any history. An order
was even issued to confine all the native Irish to the province of
Connaught, where they would be shut up by rivers, lakes, and mountains,
and could not, it was hoped, be any longer dangerous to the English
government: but this barbarous and absurd policy, which, from an
impatience of attaining immediate security, *must have depopulated all
the other provinces, and rendered the English estates of no value, was
soon abandoned as impracticable.
Cromwell began to hope that, by his administration, attended with so
much lustre and success abroad, so much order and tranquillity at home,
he had now acquired such authority as would enable him to meet the
representatives of the nation, and would assure him of their dutiful
compliance with his government. He summoned a parliament; but not
trusting altogether to the good will of the people, he used every art
which his new model of representation allowed him to employ, in order
to influence the elections, and fill the house with his own creatures.
Ireland, being entirely in the hands of the army, chose few but
such officers as were most acceptable to him. Scotland showed a like
compliance; and as the nobility and gentry of that kingdom regarded
their attendance on English parliaments as an ignominious badge of
slavery, it was on that account more easy for the officers to prevail
in the elections. Notwithstanding all these precautions, the protector
still found that the majority would not be favorable to him. He set
guards, therefore, on the door, who permitted none to enter but such as
produced a warrant from his council; and the council rejected about a
hundred, who either refused a recognition of the protector's government,
or were on other accounts obnoxious to him. These protested against so
egregious a violence, subversive of all liberty; but every application
for redress was neglected both by the council and the parliament.
The majority of the parliament, by means of these arts and violences,
was now at last either friendly to the protector, or resolved, by their
compliance, to adjust, if possible, this military government to their
laws and liberties. They voted a renunciation of all title in Charles
Stuart, or any of his family; and this was the first act, dignified with
the appearance of national consent, which had ever had that tendency.
Colonel Jephson, in order to sound the inclinations of the house,
ventured to move, that the parliament should bestow the crown on
Cromwell; and no surprise or reluctance was discovered on the occasion.
When Cromwell afterwards asked Jephson what induced him to make such
a motion, "As long," said Jephson, "as I have the honor to sit in
parliament, I must follow the dictates of my own conscience, whatever
offence I may be so unfortunate as to give you." "Get thee gone," said
Cromwell, giving him a gentle blow on the shoulder; "get thee gone, for
a mad fellow as thou art."
In order to pave the way to this advancement, for which he so ardently
longed, Cromwell resolved to sacrifice his major-generals, whom he
knew to be extremely odious to the nation That measure was also become
necessary for his own security. All government, purely military,
fluctuates perpetually between a despotic monarchy and a despotic
aristocracy, according as the authority of the chief commander
prevails, or that of the officers next him in rank and dignity. The
major-generals, being possessed of so much distinct jurisdiction, began
to establish a separate title to power, and had rendered themselves
formidable to the protector himself; and for this inconvenience, though
he had not foreseen it, he well knew, before it was too late, to provide
a proper remedy. Claypole, his son-in-law, who possessed his confidence,
abandoned them to the pleasure of the house; and though the name was
still retained, it was agreed to abridge, or rather entirely annihilate,
the power of the major-generals.
At length, a motion in form was made by Alderman Pack, one of the city
members, for investing the protector with the dignity of king. This
motion at first excited great disorder, and divided the whole house
into parties. The chief opposition came from the usual adherents of the
protector, the major-generals, and such officers as depended on them.
Lambert a man of deep intrigue, and of great interest in the army,
had long entertained the ambition of succeeding Cromwell in the
protectorship; and he foresaw, that if the monarchy were restored,
hereditary right would also be established, and the crown be transmitted
to the posterity of the prince first elected. He pleaded, therefore,
conscience; and rousing all those civil and religious jealousies against
kingly government, which had been so industriously encouraged among the
soldiers, and which served them as a pretence for so many violences, he
raised a numerous, and still more formidable party, against the motion.
On the other hand, the motion was supported by every one who was more
particularly devoted to the protector, and who hoped, by so acceptable
a measure, to pay court to the prevailing authority. Many persons also,
attached to their country, despaired of ever being able to subvert
the present illegal establishment; and were desirous, by fixing it on
ancient foundations, to induce the protector, from views of his own
safety, to pay a regard to the ancient laws and liberties of the
kingdom. Even the royalists imprudently joined in the measure; and hoped
that, when the question regarded only persons, not forms of government,
no one would any longer balance between the ancient royal family and an
ignoble usurper, who, by blood, treason, and perfidy, had made his way
to the throne.
{1657.} The bill was voted by a considerable majority;
and a committee was appointed to reason with the protector, and to
overcome those scruples which he pretended against accepting so liberal
an offer.
The conference lasted for several days. The committee urged, that all
the statutes and customs of England were founded on the supposition of
regal authority, and could not, without extreme violence, be adjusted
to any other form of government: that a protector, except during the
minority of a king, was a name utterly unknown to the laws; and no man
was acquainted with the extent or limits of his authority; that if it
were attempted to define every part of his jurisdiction, many years, if
not ages, would be required for the execution of so complicated a work;
if the whole power of the king were at once transferred to him, the
question was plainly about a name, and the preference was indisputably
due to the ancient title: that the English constitution was more anxious
concerning the form of government, than concerning the birthright of the
first magistrate; and had provided, by an express law of Henry VII.,
for the security of those who act in defence of the king in being, by
whatever means he might have acquired possession: that it was extremely
the interest of all his highness's friends to seek the shelter of
this statute; and even the people in general were desirous of such a
settlement, and in all juries were with great difficulty induced to give
their verdict in favor of a protector: that the great source of all the
late commotions had been the jealousy of liberty: and that a republic,
together with a protector, had been established in order to provide
further securities for the freedom of the constitution; but that by
experience the remedy had been found insufficient, even dangerous
and pernicious; since every indeterminate power, such as that of a
protector, must be arbitrary; and the more arbitrary, as it was contrary
to the genius and inclination of the people.
The difficulty consisted not in persuading Cromwell. He was sufficiently
convinced of the solidity of these reasons; and his inclination, as well
as judgment, was entirely on the side of the committee. But how to bring
over the soldiers to the same way of thinking, was the question. The
office of king had been painted to them in such horrible colors, that
there were no hopes of reconciling them suddenly to it, even though
bestowed upon their general, to whom they were so much devoted. A
contradiction, open and direct, to all past professions, would make
them pass, in the eyes of the whole nation, for the most shameless
hypocrites, enlisted, by no other than mercenary motives, in the cause
of the most perfidious traitor. Principles, such as they were, had been
encouraged in them by every consideration, human and divine; and though
it was easy, where interest concurred, to deceive them by the thinnest
disguises, it might be found dangerous at once to pull off the mask,
and to show them in a full light the whole crime and deformity of their
conduct. Suspended between these fears and his own most ardent desires,
Cromwell protracted the time, and seemed still to oppose the reasonings
of the committee; in hopes that by artifice he might be able to
reconcile the refractory minds of the soldiers to his new dignity.
While the protector argued so much in contradiction both to his judgment
and inclination, it is no wonder that his elocution, always confused,
embarrassed, and unintelligible, should be involved in tenfold darkness,
and discover no glimmering of common sense or reason. An exact account
of this conference remains, and may be regarded as a great curiosity.
The members of the committee in their reasonings discover judgment,
knowledge, elocution: Lord Broghill in particular exerts himself on this
memorable occasion. But what a contrast when we pass to the protector's
replies! After so singular a manner does nature distribute her talents,
that, in a nation abounding with sense and learning, a man who, by
superior personal merit alone, had made his way to supreme dignity, and
had even obliged the parliament to make him a tender of the crown, was
yet incapable of expressing himself on this occasion, but in a manner
which a peasant of the most ordinary capacity would justly be ashamed
of.[*]
* We shall produce any passage at random; for his discourse
is all of a piece. "I confess, for it behoves me to deal
plainly with you, I must confess, I would say, I hope I may
be understood in this; for indeed I must be tender what I
say to such an audience as this; I say, I would be
understood, that in this argument I do not make parallel
betwixt men of a different mind, and a parliament, which
shall have their desires. I know there is no comparison, nor
can it be urged upon me that my words have the least color
that way, because the parliament seems to give liberty to me
to say any thing to you; as that, that is a tender of my
humble reasons and judgment and opinion to them; and if I
think they are such, and will be such to them, and are
faithful servants, and will be so to the supreme authority,
and the legislative wheresoever it is: if, I say, I should
not tell you, knowing their minds to be so, I should not be
faithful if I should not tell you so, to the end you may
report it to the parliament: I shall say something for
myself, for my own mind, I do profess it, I urn not a man
scrupulous about words or names of such things I have not;
but as I have the word of God, and I hope I shall ever have
it, for the rule of my conscience, for my informations; so
truly men that have been led in dark paths, through the
providence and dispensation of God; why, surely it is not to
be objected to a man; for who can love to walk in the dark?
But providence does so dispose. And though a man may impute
his own folly and blindness to providence sinfully, yet it
must be at my peril; the case may be that it is the
providence of God that doth lead men in darkness: I must
need say, that I have had a great deal of experience of
providence; and though it is no rule without or against the
word, yet it is a very good expositor of the word in many
cases." Conference at Whitehall. The great defect in
Oliver's speeches consists not in his want of elocution, but
in his want of ideas. The sagacity of his actions, and the
absurdity of his discourse, form the most prodigious
contrast that ever was known. The collection of all his
speeches, letters, sermons, (for he also wrote sermons,)
would make a great curiosity, and, with a few exceptions,
might justly pass for one of the most nonsensical books in
the world.
The opposition which Cromwell dreaded, was not that which came from
Lambert and his adherents, whom he now regarded as capital enemies, and
whom he was resolved, on the first occasion, to deprive of all power and
authority; it was that which he met with in his own family, and from men
who, by interest as well as inclination, were the most devoted to him.
Fleetwood had married his daughter; Desborow his sister; yet these
men, actuated by principle alone, could by no persuasion, artifice, or
entreaty be induced to consent that their friend and patron should be
invested with regal dignity. They told him, that if he accepted of
the crown, they would instantly throw up their commissions, and never
afterwards should have it in their power to serve him.[*]
* Thurloe, vol. vi. p. 261.
Colonel Pride procured a petition against the office of king, signed
by a majority of the officers who were in London and the neighborhood.
Several persons, it is said, had entered into an engagement to murder
the protector within a few hours after he should have accepted the offer
of the parliament. Some sudden mutiny in the army was justly dreaded.
And upon the whole, Cromwell, after the agony and perplexity of
long doubt, was at last obliged to refuse that crown which the
representatives of the nation, in the most solemn manner, had tendered
to him. Most historians are inclined to blame his choice; but he must
be allowed the best judge of his own situation. And in such complicated
subjects, the alteration of a very minute circumstance, unknown to the
spectator, will often be sufficient to cast the balance, and render a
determination, which in itself may be uneligible, very prudent, or even
absolutely necessary to the actor.
A dream or prophecy, Lord Clarendon mentions, which, he affirms, (and
he must have known the truth,) was universally talked of almost from
the beginning of the civil wars, and long before Cromwell was so
considerable a person as to bestow upon it any degree of probability. In
this prophecy, it was foretold that Cromwell should be the greatest man
in England, and would nearly, but never would fully, mount the throne.
Such a prepossession probably arose from the heated imagination either
of himself or of his followers; and as it might be one cause of the
great progress which he had already made, it is not an unlikely
reason which may be assigned for his refusing at this time any further
elevation.
The parliament, when the regal dignity was rejected by Cromwell, found
themselves obliged to retain the name of a commonwealth and protector;
and as the government was hitherto a manifest usurpation, it was thought
proper to sanctify it by a seeming choice of the people and their
representatives. Instead of the "instrument of government," which was
the work of the general officers alone, "an humble petition and advice"
was framed, and offered to the protector, by the parliament. This
was represented as the great basis cf the republican establishment,
regulating and limiting the powers of each member of the constitution,
and securing the liberty of the people to the most remote posterity. By
this deed, the authority of protector was in some particulars enlarged;
in others, it was considerably diminished. He had the power of
nominating his successor; he had a perpetual revenue assigned him, a
million a year for the pay of the fleet and army, three hundred thousand
pounds for the support of civil government; and he had authority to name
another house, who should enjoy their seats during life, and exercise
some functions of the former house of peers. But he abandoned the power,
assumed in the intervals of parliament, of framing laws with the consent
of his council; and he agreed, that no members of either house should
be excluded but by the consent of that house of which they were members.
The other articles were in the main the same as in the instrument of
government. The instrument of government Cromwell had formerly extolled
as the most perfect work of human invention: he now represented it as
a rotten plank, upon which no man could trust himself without sinking.
Even the humble petition and advice, which he extolled in its turn,
appeared so lame and imperfect, that it was found requisite, this very
session, to mend it by a supplement; and after all, it may be regarded
as a crude and undigested model of government. It was, however, accepted
for the voluntary deed of the whole people in the three united nations;
and Cromwell, as if his power had just commenced from this popular
consent, was anew inaugurated in Westminster Hall, after the most solemn
and most pompous manner.
The parliament having adjourned itself, the protector deprived Lambert
of all his commissions; but still allowed him a considerable pension
of two thousand pounds a year, as a bribe for his future peaceable
deportment. Lambert's authority in the army, to the surprise of every
body, was found immediately to expire with the loss of his commission.
Packet and some other officers, whom Cromwell suspected, were also
displaced.
Richard, eldest son of the protector, was brought to court, introduced
into public business, and thenceforth regarded by many as his heir in
the protectorship; though Cromwell sometimes employed the gross artifice
of flattering others with hopes of the succession. Richard was a person
possessed of the most peaceable, inoffensive, unambitious character; and
had hitherto lived contentedly in the country, on a small estate which
his wife had brought him. All the activity which he discovered, and
which never was great, was, however, exerted to beneficent purposes:
at the time of the king's trial, he had fallen on his knees before his
father, and had conjured him, by every tie of duty and humanity, to
spare the life of that monarch. Cromwell had two daughters unmarried;
one of them he now gave in marriage to the grandson and heir of his
great friend the earl of Warwick, with whom he had, in every fortune,
preserved an uninterrupted intimacy and good correspondence. The other
he married to the viscount Fauconberg of a family formerly devoted
to the royal party. He was ambitious of forming connections with the
nobility; and it was one chief motive for his desiring the title of
king, that he might replace every thing in its natural order, and
restore to the ancient families the trust and honor of which he now
found himself obliged, for his own safety, to deprive them.
{1658.} The parliament was again assembled; consisting, as in the times
of monarchy, of two houses, the commons and the other house. Cromwell,
during the interval, had sent writs to his house of peers, which
consisted of sixty members. They were composed of five or six ancient
peers, of several gentlemen of fortune and distinction, and of some
officers who had risen from the meanest stations. None of the ancient
peers, however, though summoned by writ, would deign to accept of a seat
which they must share with such companions as were assigned them. The
protector endeavored at first to maintain the appearance of a legal
magistrate. He placed no guard at the door of either house; but soon
found how incompatible liberty is with military usurpations. By bringing
so great a number of his friends and adherents into the other house he
had lost the majority among the national representatives. In consequence
of a clause in the humble petition and advice the commons assumed
a power of readmitting those members whom the council had formerly
excluded. Sir Arthur Hazelrig and some others, whom Cromwell had
created lords, rather chose to take their seat with the commons. An
incontestable majority now declared themselves against the protector;
and they refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of that other house
which he had established. Even the validity of the humble petition and
advice was questioned, as being voted by a parliament which lay under
force, and which was deprived by military violence of a considerable
number of its members. The protector, dreading combinations between
the parliament and the malecontents in the army, resolved to allow no
leisure for forming any conspiracy against him; and, with expressions of
great displeasure, he dissolved the parliament. When urged by Fleetwood
and others of his friends not to precipitate himself into this rash
measure, he swore by the living God that they should not sit a moment
longer.
These distractions at home were not able to take off the protector's
attention from foreign affairs; and in all his measures, he proceeded
with the same vigor and enterprise, as if secure of the duty and
attachment of the three kingdoms. His alliance with Sweden he still
supported; and he endeavored to assist that crown in its successful
enterprises for reducing all its neighbors to subjection, and rendering
itself absolute master of the Baltic. As soon as Spain declared war
against him, he concluded a peace and an alliance with France, and
united himself in all his counsels with that potent and ambitious
kingdom. Spain, having long courted in vain the friendship of the
successful usurper, was reduced at last to apply to the unfortunate
prince. Charles formed a league with Philip, removed his small court
to Bruges in the Low Countries, and raised four regiments of his own
subjects, whom he employed in the Spanish service. The duke of York, who
had with applause served some campaigns in the French army, and who
had merited the particular esteem of Marshal Turenne, now joined his
brother, and continued to seek military experience under Don John of
Austria, and the prince of Condé.
The scheme of foreign politics adopted by the protector was highly
imprudent, but was suitable to that magnanimity and enterprise with
which he was so signally endowed. He was particularly desirous of
conquest and dominion on the continent;[*] and he sent over into
Flanders six thousand men under Reynolds, who joined the French army
commanded by Turenne. In the former campaign, Mardyke was taken, and put
into the hands of the English. Early this campaign, siege was laid to
Dunkirk; and when the Spanish army advanced to relieve it, the combined
armies of France and England marched out of their trenches, and fought
the battle of the Dunes, where the Spaniards were totally defeated.[**]
* He aspired to get possession of Elsinore and the passage
of the Sound. See World's Mistake in Oliver Cromwell. He
also endeavored to get possession of Bremen. Thurloe, vol.
vi. p. 478.
* It was remarked by the saints of that time, that the
battle was fought on a day which was held for a fast in
London; so that, as Fleetwood said, (Thurloe, vol. vii. p.
159,) "while we were praying, they were fighting; and the
Lord hath given a signal answer. The Lord has not only owned
us in our work there, but in our waiting upon him in a way
of prayer, which is indeed our old experienced approved way
in all streights and difficulties." Cromwell's letter to
Blake and Montague, his brave admirals, is remarkable for
the same spirit. Thurloe, vol. iv. p. 744. "You have," says
he, "as I verily believe and am persuaded, a plentiful stock
of prayers going for you daily, sent up by the soberest and
most approved ministers and Christians in this nation; and,
notwithstanding some discouragements very much wrestling of
faith for you, which are to us, and I trust will be to you,
matter of great encouragement. But notwithstanding all this,
it will be good for you and us to deliver up ourselves and
all our affairs to the disposition of our all-wise Father,
who, not only out of prerogative, but because of his
goodness, wisdom, and truth, ought to be resigned unto by
his creatures, especially those who are children of his
begetting through the spirit," etc.
The valor of the English was much remarked on this occasion. Dunkirk,
being soon after surrendered, was by agreement delivered to Cromwell.
He committed the government of that important place to Lockhart,
a Scotchman of abilities, who had married his niece, and was his
ambassador at the court of France.
This acquisition was regarded by the protector as the means only of
obtaining further advantages. He was resolved to concert measures
with the French court for the final conquest and partition of the Low
Countries.[*] Had he lived much longer, and maintained his authority
in England, so chimerical, or rather so dangerous, a project would
certainly have been carried into execution. And this first and principal
step towards more extensive conquest, which France during a whole
century has never yet been able, by an infinite expense of blood
and treasure, fully to attain, had at once been accomplished by the
enterprising, though unskilful politics of Cromwell.
During these transactions, great demonstrations of mutual friendship
and regard passed between the French king and the protector. Lord
Fauconberg, Cromwell's son-in-law, was despatched to Louis, then in the
camp before Dunkirk; and was received with the regard usually paid to
foreign princes by the French court.[**] Mazarine sent to London his
nephew Mancini, along with the duke of Crequi; and expressed his regret
that his urgent affairs should deprive him of the honor which he had
long wished for, of paying in person his respects to the greatest man in
the world.[***]
* Thurloe, vol. i. p. 762.
** Thurloe, vol. vii. p. 151, 158.
*** In reality, the cardinal had not entertained so high an
idea of Cromwell. He used to say that he was a fortunate
madman. Vie de Cromwell, par Raguenet. See also Carte's
Collection, vol. ii. p. 81 Gumble's Life of Monk, p. 93.
World's Mistake in Oliver Cromwell.
The protector reaped little satisfaction from the success of his arms
abroad: the situation in which he stood at home kept him in perpetual
uneasiness and inquietude. His administration, so expensive both by
military enterprises and secret intelligence, had exhausted his revenue,
and involved him in a considerable debt. The royalists, he heard, had
renewed their conspiracies for a general insurrection; and Ormond was
secretly come over with a view of concerting measures for the execution
of this project. Lord Fairfax, Sir William Waller, and many heads of the
Presbyterians, had secretly entered into the engagement. Even the army
was infected with the general spirit of discontent; and some sudden
and dangerous eruption was every moment to be dreaded from it. No hopes
remained, after his violent breach with the last parliament, that
he should ever be able to establish, with general consent, a legal
settlement, or temper the military with any mixture of civil authority.
All his arts and policy were exhausted; and having so often, by fraud
and false pretences, deceived every party, and almost every individual,
he could no longer hope, by repeating the same professions, to meet with
equal confidence and regard.
However zealous the royalists, their conspiracy took not effect: Willis
discovered the whole to the protector. Ormond was obliged to fly, and he
deemed himself fortunate to have escaped so vigilant an administration.
Great numbers were thrown into prison. A high court of justice was anew
erected for the trial of those criminals whose guilt was most apparent.
Notwithstanding the recognition of his authority by the last parliament,
the protector could not as yet trust to an unbiased jury. Sir Henry
Slingsby and Dr. Huet were condemned and beheaded. Mordaunt, brother
to the earl of Peterborough, narrowly escaped. The numbers for his
condemnation and his acquittal were equal; and just as the sentence was
pronounced in his favor. Colonel Pride, who was resolved to condemn him,
came into court. Ashton, Storey, and Bestley were hanged in different
streets of the city.
The conspiracy of the Millenarians in the army struck Cromwell with
still greater apprehensions. Harrison and the other discarded officers
of that party could not remain at rest. Stimulated equally by revenge,
by ambition, and by conscience, they still harbored in their breast some
desperate project; and there wanted not officers in the army who,
from like motives, were disposed to second all their undertakings. The
levellers and agitators had been encouraged by Cromwell to interpose
with their advice in all political deliberations; and he had even
pretended to honor many of them with his intimate friendship, while he
conducted his daring enterprises against the king and the parliament. It
was a usual practice with him, in order to familiarize himself the more
with the agitators, who were commonly corporals or sergeants, to take
them to bed with him, and there, after prayers and exhortations, to
discuss together their projects and principles, political as well as
religious. Having assumed the dignity of protector, he excluded them
from all his councils, and had neither leisure nor inclination to
indulge them any further in their wonted familiarities. Among those who
were enraged at this treatment was Sexby, an active agitator, who now
employed against him all that restless industry which had formerly
been exerted in his favor. He even went so far as to enter into a
correspondence with Spain, and Cromwell, who knew the distempers of
the army, was justly afraid of some mutiny, to which a day, an hour, an
instant, might provide leaders.
Of assassinations, likewise, he was apprehensive, from the zealous
spirit which actuated the soldiers. Sindercome had undertaken to murder
him; and by the most unaccountable accidents, had often been prevented
from executing his bloody purpose. His design was discovered; but the
protector could never find the bottom of the enterprise, nor detect any
of his accomplices. He was tried by a jury; and, notwithstanding the
general odium attending that crime, notwithstanding the clear and full
proof of his guilt, so little conviction prevailed of the protector's
right to the supreme government, it was with the utmost difficulty[*]
that this conspirator was condemned. When every thing was prepared for
his execution, he was found dead; from poison, as is supposed, which he
had voluntarily taken.
* Thurloe, voL vi. p. 53.
The protector might better have supported those fears and apprehensions
which the public distempers occasioned, had he enjoyed any domestic
satisfaction, or possessed any cordial friend of his own family, in
whose bosom he could safely have unloaded his anxious and corroding
cares. But Fleetwood, his son-in-law, actuated by the wildest zeal,
began to estrange himself from him; and was enraged to discover, that
Cromwell, in all his enterprises, had entertained views of promoting his
own grandeur, more than of encouraging piety and religion, of which
he made such fervent professions. His eldest daughter, married to
Fleetwood, had adopted republican principles so vehement, that she could
not with patience behold power lodged in a single person, even in her
indulgent father. His other daughters were no less prejudiced in favor
of the royal cause, and regretted the violences and iniquities into
which, they thought, their family had so unhappily been transported.
Above all, the sickness of Mrs. Claypole, his peculiar favorite, a lady
endued with many humane virtues and amiable accomplishments, depressed
his anxious mind, and poisoned all his enjoyments. She had entertained a
high regard for Dr. Huet, lately executed; and being refused his pardon,
the melancholy of her temper, increased by her distempered body, had
prompted her to lament to her father all his sanguinary measures, and
urge him to compunction for those heinous crimes into which his fatal
ambition had betrayed him. Her death, which followed soon after, gave
new edge to every word which she had uttered.
All composure of mind was now forever fled from the protector: he felt
that the grandeur which he had attained with so much guilt and courage,
could not insure him that tranquillity which it belongs to virtue alone,
and moderation, fully to ascertain. Overwhelmed with the load of public
affairs, dreading perpetually some fatal accident in his distempered
government, seeing nothing around him but treacherous friends or enraged
enemies, possessing the confidence of no party, resting his title on
no principle, civil or religious, he found his power to depend on so
delicate a poise of factions and interests, as the smallest event was
able, without any preparation, in a moment to overturn. Death, too,
which with such signal intrepidity he had braved in the field, being
incessantly threatened by the poniards of fanatical or interested
assassins, was ever present to his terrified apprehension, and haunted
him in every scene of business or repose. Each action of his life
betrayed the terrors under which he labored. The aspect of strangers was
uneasy to him: with a piercing and anxious eye he surveyed every face to
which he was not daily accustomed. He never moved a step without strong
guards attending him: he wore armor under his clothes, and further
secured himself by offensive weapons, a sword, falchion, and pistols,
which he always carried about him. He returned from no place by
the direct road, or by the same way which he went. Every journey he
performed with hurry and precipitation. Seldom he slept above three
nights together in the same chamber; and he never let it be known
beforehand what chamber he intended to choose, nor intrusted himself
in any which was not provided with back doors, at which sentinels were
carefully placed. Society terrified him, while he reflected on his
numerous, unknown, and implacable enemies: solitude astonished him,
by withdrawing that protection which he found so necessary for his
security.
His body, also, from the contagion of his anxious mind, began to be
affected, and his health seemed sensibly to decline. He was seized with
a slow fever, which changed into a tertian ague. For the space of a
week, no dangerous symptoms appeared: and in the intervals of the
fits he was able to walk abroad. At length the fever increased, and he
himself began to entertain some thoughts of death, and to cast his
eye towards that future existence, whose idea had once been intimately
present to him; though since, in the hurry of affairs, and the shock of
wars and factions, it had, no doubt, been considerably obliterated. He
asked Goodwin, one of his preachers, if the doctrine were true, that
the elect could never fall, or suffer a final reprobation. "Nothing more
certain," replied the preacher. "Then I am safe," said the protector;
"for I am sure that once I was in a state of grace."
His physicians were sensible of the perilous condition to which his
distemper had reduced him; but his chaplains, by their prayers, visions,
and revelations, so buoyed up his hopes, that he began to believe his
life out of all danger. A favorable answer, it was pretended, had been
returned by Heaven to the petitions of all the godly: and he relied
on their asseverations much more than on the opinion of the most
experienced physicians. "I tell you," he cried with confidence to the
latter, "I tell you, I shall not die of this distemper: I am well
assured of my recovery. It is promised by the Lord, not only to my
supplications, but to those of men who hold a stricter commerce and more
intimate correspondence with him. Ye may have skill in your profession;
but nature can do more than all the physicians in the world, and God
is far above nature."(*) Nay, to such a degree of madness did their
enthusiastic assurances mount, that, upon a fast day, which was observed
on his account both at Hampton Court and at Whitehall, they did not so
much pray for his health, as give thanks for the undoubted pledges which
they had received of his recovery. He himself was overheard offering
up his addresses to Heaven; and so far had the illusions of fanaticism
prevailed over the plainest dictates of natural morality, that he
assumed more the character of a mediator, in interceding for his people,
than that of a criminal, whose atrocious violation of social duty had,
from every tribunal, human and divine, merited the severest vengeance.
* Bates. See also Ihurloe, vol. vii. p. 356, 416.
Meanwhile, all the symptoms began to wear a more fatal aspect; and
the physicians were obliged to break silence, and to declare that the
protector could not survive the next fit with which he was threatened.
The council was alarmed. A deputation was sent to know his will with
regard to his successor His senses were gone, and he could not now
express his intentions. They asked him whether he did not mean that his
eldest son, Richard, should succeed him in the protectorship. A simple
affirmative was, or seemed to be, extorted from him. Soon after, on the
third of September, that very day which he had always considered as the
most fortunate for him, he expired, A violent tempest, which immediately
succeeded his death, served as a subject of discourse to the vulgar. His
partisans, as well as his enemies, were fond of remarking this event;
and each of them endeavored, by forced inferences, to interpret it as a
confirmation of their particular prejudices.
The writers attached to the memory of this wonderful person, make
his character, with regard to abilities, bear the air of the most
extravagant panegyric: his enemies form such a representation of his
moral qualities as resembles the most virulent invective. Both of them,
it must be confessed, are supported by such striking circumstances in
his conduct and fortune, as bestow on their representation a great air
of probability. "What can be more extraordinary," it is said,[*] "than
that a person of private birth and education, no fortune, no eminent
qualities of body, which have sometimes, nor shining talents of mind,
which have often, raised men to the highest dignities, should have the
courage to attempt, and the abilities to execute, so great a design as
the subverting one of the most ancient and best established monarchies
in the world? That he should have the power and boldness to put his
prince and master to an open and infamous death? Should banish that
numerous and strongly allied family? Cover all these temerities under a
seeming obedience to a parliament, in whose service he pretended to
be retained? Trample, too, upon that parliament in their turn,
and scornfully expel them as soon as they gave him ground of
dissatisfaction? Erect in their place the dominion of the saints, and
give reality to the most visionary idea which the heated imagination of
any fanatic was ever able to entertain? Suppress again that monster in
its infancy, and openly set up himself above all things that ever were
called sovereign in England? Overcome first all his enemies by arms, and
all his friends afterwards by artifice? Serve all parties patiently for
a while, and command them victoriously at last? Overrun each corner of
the three nations, and subdue, with equal facility, both the riches of
the south and the poverty of the north? Be feared and courted by all
foreign princes, and be adopted a brother to the gods of the earth? Call
together parliaments with a word of his pen, and scatter them again with
the breath of his mouth? Reduce to subjection a warlike and discontented
nation, by means of a mutinous army? Command a mutinous army by means of
seditious and factious officers? Be humbly and daily petitioned, that he
would be pleased, at the rate of millions a year, to be hired as master
of those who had hired him before to be their servant? Have the estates
and lives of three nations as much at his disposal as was once the
little inheritance of his father, and be as noble and liberal in the
spending of them? And lastly, (for there is no end of enumerating every
particular of his glory,) with one word bequeath all this power and
splendor to his posterity? He possessed of peace at home and triumph
abroad? Be buried among kings, and with more than regal solemnity; and
leave a name behind him not to be extinguished but with the whole world;
which as it was too little for his praise, so might it have been for his
conquests, if the short line of his mortal life could have stretched out
to the extent of his immortal designs?"
* Cowley's Discourses. This passage is altered in some
particulars from the original.
My intention is not to disfigure this picture, drawn by so masterly
a hand: I shall only endeavor to remove from it somewhat of the
marvellous; a circumstance which, on all occasions, gives much ground
for doubt and suspicion. It seems to me, that the circumstance of
Cromwell's life in which his abilities are principally discovered, is
his rising from a private station, in opposition to so many rivals, so
much advanced before him, to a high command and authority, in the army.
His great courage, his signal military talents, his eminent dexterity
and address, were all requisite for this important acquisition. Yet will
not this promotion appear the effect of supernatural abilities, when
we consider, that Fairfax himself, a private gentleman, who had not the
advantage of a seat in parliament, had, through the same steps,
attained even a superior rank, and, if endued with common capacity
and penetration, had been able to retain it. To incite such an army to
rebellion against the parliament, required no uncommon art or industry:
to have kept them in obedience had been the more difficult enterprise.
When the breach was once formed between the military and civil powers,
a supreme and absolute authority, from that moment, is devolved on the
general; and if he be afterwards pleased to employ artifice or policy,
it may be regarded, on most occasions, as great condescension, if not
as superfluous caution. That Cromwell was ever able really to blind or
overreach either the king or the republicans, does not appear: as they
possessed no means of resisting the force under his command, they were
glad to temporize with him, and, by seeming to be deceived, wait for
opportunities of freeing themselves from his dominion. If he seduced the
military fanatics, it is to be considered, that their interests and his
evidently concurred; that their ignorance and low education exposed them
to the grossest imposition; and that he himself was at bottom as frantic
an enthusiast as the worst of them; and, in order to obtain their
confidence, needed but to display those vulgar and ridiculous habits
which he had early acquired, and on which he set so high a value. An
army is so forcible, and at the same time so coarse a weapon, that
any hand which wields it, may, without much dexterity, perform any
operation, and attain any ascendant, in human society.
The domestic administration of Cromwell, though it discovers great
abilities, was conducted without any plan either of liberty or arbitrary
power: perhaps his difficult situation admitted of neither. His foreign
enterprises, though full of intrepidity, were pernicious to national
interest, and seem more the result of impetuous fury or narrow
prejudices, than of cool foresight and deliberation. An eminent
personage, however, he was in many respects, and even a superior genius;
but unequal and irregular in his operations. And though not defective
in any talent, except that of elocution, the abilities which in him were
most admirable, and which most contributed to his marvellous success,
were the magnanimous resolution of his enterprises, and his peculiar
dexterity in discovering the characters, and practising on the
weaknesses, of mankind.
If we survey the moral character of Cromwell with that indulgence which
is due to the blindness and infirmities of the human species, we shall
not be inclined to load his memory with such violent reproaches as
those which his enemies usually throw upon it. Amidst the passions and
prejudices of that period, that he should prefer the parliamentary to
the royal cause, will not appear extraordinary; since, even at present,
some men of sense and knowledge are disposed to think, that the
question, with regard to the justice of the quar* *rel, may be regarded
as doubtful and uncertain. The murder of the king, the most atrocious of
all his actions, was to him covered under a mighty cloud of republican
and fanatical illusions; and it is not impossible, but he might believe
it, as many others did, the most meritorious action that he could
perform. His subsequent usurpation was the effect of necessity, as well
as of ambition; nor is it easy to see how the various factions could
at that time have been restrained, without a mixture of military and
arbitrary authority. The private deportment of Cromwell, as a son, a
husband, a father, a friend, is exposed to no considerable censure, if
it does not rather merit praise. And, upon the whole, his character
does not appear more extraordinary and unusual by the mixture of so much
absurdity with so much penetration, than by his tempering such violent
ambition and such enraged fanaticism with so much regard to justice and
humanity.
Cromwell was in the fifty-ninth year of his age when he died. He was
of a robust frame of body, and of a manly, though not of an agreeable
aspect. He left only two sons, Richard and Henry; and three daughters;
one married to General Fleetwood, another to Lord Fauconberg, a third to
Lord Rich. His father died when he was very young. His mother lived till
after he was protector; and, contrary to her orders, he buried her with
great pomp in Westminster Abbey. She could not be persuaded that his
power or person was ever in safety. At every noise which she heard, she
exclaimed that her son was murdered; and was never satisfied that he was
alive, if she did not receive frequent visits from him. She was a decent
woman; and by her frugality and industry had raised and educated a
numerous family upon a small fortune. She had even been obliged to set
up a brewery at Huntingdon, which she managed to good advantage. Hence
Cromwell, in the invectives of that age, is often stigmatized with
the name of the brewer. Ludlow, by way of insult, mentions the great
accession which he would receive to his royal revenues upon his mother's
death, who possessed a jointure of sixty pounds a year upon his estate.
She was of a good family, of the name of Stuart; remotely allied, as is
by some supposed, to the royal family.