Cromwell Protector (1653-1658).
The deed was done. Parliament, which had at first aided, then
thwarted Cromwell in his aims and in the exercise of power, had
ceased to exist. A Council of State, composed of twelve members,
convoked and presided over by the general himself, was henceforth
charged with the control of public affairs. No resistance was
offered. Scarcely had some austere Republicans protested when
Cromwell felt the weight to be too heavy for his robust
shoulders. The Government of England was not, could not be the
absolute rule of one man. The semblance of a Parliament at least
was necessary. He resolved to constitute it himself with the men
designated for public approval by their virtues and their piety.
A hundred and thirty-nine persons were thus chosen and convoked
in the name of Oliver Cromwell, Captain-general of the forces of
the Commonwealth. On the 4th of July, 1653, in the
Council-chamber at Whitehall, the men elected by Cromwell
listened to his address, which was long and diffuse as usual, but
which tended entirely to give them confidence in their task and
in their right to govern their country. "Accept your trust, for,
I repeat to you, it is of God."
{248}
Cromwell in vain endeavored to establish upon the solid basis of
Divine will that power which he had established with his own
hands and which he was shortly about to overthrow. The "Barebones
Parliament," as it was called, from the name of one of its
members, sat for five months, laborious and exact, ardently
occupied in reforming abuses and in establishing a new
legislature, it was at the same time inclined to dispute the
power and actions of the general more often than was agreeable to
Cromwell. He had but recently leant for support upon the
sectarian reformers, but he soon felt that such innovators,
available for destroying, were still prone to destroy the very
power which they had raised; he resolved, therefore, to rid
himself of them. He declared this to the Anabaptist preacher,
Feake, whose violence embarrassed and exasperated him. "Be
assured that on the day when I shall be pressed by my enemies,
more pressed than I have ever been, it will be with you that I
shall begin to rid myself of them," he said. He found in the very
midst of Parliament the instruments necessary for his purpose.
On Monday, the 12th of December, 1653, the friends of the general
were assembled together at an early hour in the House. Scarcely
had they concluded prayers, which were said as usual by one of
the members present, when Colonel Sydenham, addressing the House,
vigorously attacked the reformers, or rather the revolutionists,
who, he said, rendered all government impossible. "I propose to
declare that the sitting of this Parliament any longer would be
of no service to the nation, and that we shall repair in a body
to the Lord-general and resign the trust which has been committed
to us."
{249}
A debate began upon this strange proposal. The reformers defended
themselves. They sent warning to their friends, who arrived in
haste. The issue became doubtful. Rouse, the speaker, abruptly
closed the sitting, and proceeded to Whitehall, accompanied by
forty members: thirty or thirty-five remained in the House,
embarrassed and indignant. They did not muster a sufficient
number to deliberate; some began to pray. Colonel Goffe entered
with a platoon of soldiers and caused the place to be cleared.
Four days later, the act of abdication of the "Barebones"
Parliament had received eighty signatures, and Cromwell solemnly
accepted the government from the hands of the army in the name of
the three nations of England, Scotland, and Ireland, under the
title of Protector.
This was the re-establishment of a single power, the first step
towards the restoration of a monarchy. As Whitelocke had shortly
before predicted to Cromwell, it was henceforth against him that
all the blows were directed. Sectaries, passionate like Feake, or
sincere like Major Harrison, refused to recognize the new
government. Several colonels immediately entered into hostile
conspiracies. John Lilburne had reappeared in England, and,
although immediately incarcerated in Newgate, he had begun once
more to write and to agitate the public with his indefatigable
ardor. Cromwell resolved to place him upon his trial. "Freeborn
John," wrote one of the confidants of the Protector, "has been
sent to the Old Bailey Sessions, and I think that he will soon be
hanged."
{250}
Every possible precaution had in fact been taken to assure the
issue of the trial and the condemnation of Lilburne, but his
ability, his eloquence, the impassioned ardor of his friends,
thwarted all the efforts of the executive. "Last Saturday," wrote
Beverning to John de Witt, "there were present at his trial no
less than six thousand persons who would not have heard him
condemned without some few of them at least leaving their lives
there." Lilburne was acquitted; but Cromwell was more powerful
and more obstinate than the Long Parliament itself.
Notwithstanding his acquittal, the indomitable pamphleteer was
detained in the Tower, then transported to Jersey. He at length
consented to remain quiet as a condition of freedom, and died in
obscurity four years later, in a little town in Kent. Meanwhile,
before ridding himself of the "Barebones" Parliament, Cromwell,
warned by the trial of Lilburne of the tendencies of juries,
caused to be vested in himself the exceptional jurisdiction which
had at first tried the king, and afterwards Lord Capel and his
friends. The High Court of Justice had been reconstituted under
the presidency of Bradshaw. The Protector took his precautions
against the attacks and conspiracies which he foresaw. He was not
deceived: five months after the establishment of the new power, a
Royalist plot, which was to begin with the assassination of
Cromwell, brought before the judges Colonel Gerard, who perished
with two accomplices. The Protector had the prudence to spare the
persons of distinction who were compromised in the affair. His
wish had been to test the vigilance of his police and the power
of an authority which knew how to practice moderation.
While Cromwell thus displayed his energetic wisdom at home,
rapidly and by his sole authority accomplishing the reforms long
discussed by Parliament, he triumphed in Scotland, through the
efforts of Monk, over the recent Royalist insurrections. A simple
ordinance at the same time incorporated with England the ancient
kingdom of the Stuarts, relieving it of all independent
representation and jurisdiction. Monk was commissioned to govern
quietly the country which he had subjugated. Ireland remained
calm and silent; the Protector had leisure to turn his eyes
towards the Continent of Europe.
{251}
There again fortune served his ability and firmness. The war with
Holland continued, and was generally favorable to the English
arms. "Why should I remain silent longer?" Cornelis de Witt said
in an open assembly of the States. "I am here before my
sovereigns; it is my duty to tell them that the English are now
masters of us and of the seas." The struggle still continued,
negotiations being meanwhile attempted. Tromp was killed on the
31st of July, 1653, in the midst of a desperate combat. "It is
all over with me," he said as he fell, "but you, take courage."
Ruyter, Cornelis de Witt, Floretz, and Ewertz continued the
struggle, which every day became more fierce on the part of the
English. Cromwell, however, was resolved to put an end to it. The
hesitations of diplomacy ceased with the government of
Parliament; the Protector wished for peace with the United
Provinces, and for an alliance with the Protestant States. He set
himself without delay to work, to realize the two indispensable
conditions of the greatness of his country and of his own
influence in Europe.
The conditions imposed by the Protector were harsh, and they
wounded the legitimate pride of the United Provinces: he
renounced the idea of the incorporation of the two Republics; he
admitted the allies of the Dutch to the advantages of the treaty,
but he demanded of the States an undertaking never to receive
upon their territory any enemy of the Commonwealth, thus closing
against the Stuarts theîr last place of refuge.
{252}
He at the same time forbade the United Provinces ever to raise
the young prince, William of Orange, or his descendants, to the
office of Stadtholder or of commander of the land or sea forces.
The States-General declined to assent to this stipulation.
Cromwell then had recourse to indirect negotiations: he obtained,
not without difficulty, a private and secret agreement from the
States of the Province of Holland, which were sufficiently
powerful to decide the question alone in the general assembly. On
the 5th of June, 1654, the articles being at length ratified, the
treaty of peace became definitive, to the general satisfaction of
the English as well as of the Netherlanders.
During this time Whitelocke was negotiating with Queen Christiana
of Sweden, who was struck and touched with the rare faculties
which she recognized in Cromwell. "In the end, I think that your
general will be king of England," she said. On the 28th of April,
1654, the English envoy signed, in common with Chancellor
Oxçnstiern, a treaty of friendship and alliance between the two
countries. On the 30th of May, the Queen of Sweden, seduced by
the vague charms of a free life, solemnly abdicated before the
Diet of Upsal, while Whitelocke, embarking for England, brought
back to Cromwell an important success for his policy and stories
invented to flatter his pride.
Such rapid progress in so many directions ardently preoccupied
the two great Catholic powers which were contending amongst
themselves for the empire of the Continent. Don Alonzo de
Cardeñas, the Spanish ambassador, and M. de Bordeaux, the French
ambassador, treated the Protector with great consideration and
made many overtures to him.
{253}
The Long Parliament inclined towards the Spanish alliance.
Cromwell, with higher sagacity, inclined, on the contrary,
towards France. But Cromwell was in no hurry to declare what he
thought, and he caused Cardeñas and Bordeaux in turn to conceive
a hope of his preference, and thus became every day more the
object of their jealous eagerness.
Thus sought after abroad by every Government, and conqueror at
home of all parties, the Protector at length deemed himself in a
position to confront a Parliament. He ordered therefore, for the
3d of September, 1654, the anniversary of his victories of Dunbar
and Worcester, the assembly of a Parliament freely elected.
It was the first time for fourteen years that there had been in
England a general election. No one was excluded except the
Cavaliers and the Roman Catholics. Four hundred and sixty
deputies, amongst whom the Presbyterians and sectarians were
numerous, were present on the day mentioned at the opening
sitting. All had accepted the condition commemorated on the writ
of their elections: "The persons elected shall not have the power
to alter the government as it is settled, in one single person
and a Parliament."
This was, however, the first question put to the vote by the
House. Returning to the Hall in which their sittings were held,
after the speech of the Protector, the Republicans there revived
all the maxims, all the pretensions of the Long Parliament. The
form of government had for four days been the object of the most
animated discussions, when, on the 12th of September, on arriving
at Westminster, the members found the doors closed and guarded by
soldiers.
{254}
"You cannot pass," said the sentinels; "go into the Painted
Chamber, the Protector will be there soon." He arrived, as
stated, and taking his seat upon the chair of state, which he had
occupied a week before to open Parliament, he reviewed, in a
speech which was both bold and embarrassed, his past works, the
services which he had rendered to the country, and the necessity
of putting an end to the agitation to which it was a prey. "I had
a thought within myself," he said, "that it would not have been
dishonest nor dishonorable, if, when a Parliament was so chosen
as you have been in pursuance of this instrument of government
and in conformity with it, some owning of your call and of the
authority which brought you hither had been required before your
entrance into the House. This was declined. What I forbore from a
just confidence at first you necessitate me unto now. ... I have
caused a stop to be put to your entrance into the Parliament
House. I am sorry, I am sorry, and I could be sorry to the death,
but there is cause for this. ... There is therefore somewhat to
be offered to you, that is to say, in the form of government now
settled, which is expressly stipulated in your indentures not to
be altered. The making of your minds known in that by giving your
assent and subscription to it is the means that will let you in
to act those things, as a Parliament, which are for the good of
the people. The place where you may come thus and sign, as many
as God shall make free thereunto, is in the Lobby without the
Parliament door."
{255}
A hundred and fifty members, belonging to the austere
Republicans, refused to pledge themselves, and immediately
withdrew; before the end of the month, more than three hundred
members had signed, and Parliament continued its labors,
accepting, since it was so compelled, the first article of the
constitutional act, but reserving the right to discuss the
others. During more than four months quibble succeeded to
quibble, difficulty to difficulty. On the 22d of January, 1655,
the five months of session which the act of convocation assured
to Parliament at length expired. Cromwell repaired to
Westminster. "Though some may think it is a hard thing to raise
money without Parliamentary authority upon this nation," he said,
"yet I have another argument to the good people of this nation if
they would be safe and yet have no better principle. ... Whether
they prefer the having of their will though it be their
destruction, rather than comply with things of necessity? ... I
should wrong my native country to suppose this. ... I leave the
unknown to God, and conclude with this, that I think it my duty
to tell you that it is not for the profit of these nations, nor
for common and public good for you to continue here any longer.
And therefore I do declare unto you that I do dissolve this
Parliament."
Cromwell was free, but uneasy and dissatisfied. He had hoped for
much from the new Parliament, and the disappointment was bitter
to him. He had spoken in his speech of the Royalist conspiracies
which had developed under the uncertain government of the
Republicans. An insurrection which broke out shortly afterwards
in the West and in the North, proved the correctness of his
assertions. It was easily repressed, and its chief, Penruddock,
perished upon the scaffold with his principal adherents. Almost
at the same time the Protector was informed of the projects of
insurrection of the Republican sectaries acknowledging the
leadership of Overton and Wildman.
{256}
Both these men were placed in the Tower. Other chiefs of the
Levellers were arrested and sent to prison quietly. When the men
of his former party were concerned, Cromwell behaved in a very
different manner from that which he employed towards the
Royalists. He applied himself to preventing and stifling. He
wished them to be powerless, but not to make them victims
invested with glory.
The conspiracy of the Cavaliers furnished, moreover, to the
Protector a resource which became every day more necessary to
him. He had no money. He resolved to impose upon the Royalists a
tax of ten per cent, upon their incomes. Under pretence of
collecting this impost he established in every county a local
militia, of which he formed twelve corps, under the command of
tried officers. All the Royalists found themselves outlawed. It
was, apparently, against them alone that this measure destined to
secure in all quarters the power of the Protector was directed.
The step was tyrannical; the application was more odious still.
Cromwell gained the money of which he was in need, but the
majors-general nearly everywhere abused their power. Returning
into the old path of revolutionary violence, the parties once
more found themselves at contention, not in the way of civil war,
but of resisting oppression. The allaying of mutual passions and
hatreds, and the establishment of a regular and legal government
continued to be a vain hope for England. Cromwell felt it to be
so, and struggled bitterly against that conviction.
{257}
In the midst of the disorder and violence which he could not or
would not repress, Cromwell always had the honor of understanding
and respecting liberty of conscience. Constrained by the
fanaticism of his friends to oppress the Catholics, often even
the Anglican Church, he secretly used leniency towards the
latter, and left to all the sects which divided England among
them a full and absolute independence. He protected them against
each other, defending even the liberty of George Fox, the founder
of the Quakers; the Jews, who asked to be allowed to establish
themselves in England; and the Republican men of letters like
Harrington, who dedicated to him his Republican Utopia of
_Oceana_. He at the same time defended the Universities of
Oxford and Cambridge against the ignorant and ardent sectaries
who would have destroyed those "Episcopal" homes, and he took
pleasure in restoring to them something of their past splendor.
Few despots have contrived like Cromwell to restrain themselves
within the limits of practical necessity, while leaving to the
human mind a vast and free field of action.
All these efforts in the direction of a good internal government
did not suffice to found his power upon solid basis. Cromwell
sought foreign renown. At the end of October, 1655, he had sent
Blake into the Mediterranean, at the head of a large fleet, to
cruise round Spain and survey its ports, while Admiral Penn was
preparing to extend the war to the Spanish colonies in America.
Blake acquitted himself of his mission as usual, repressing the
acts of piracy and barbarity in the seas which he overran;
bombarding Tunis, which had refused him water, and exhibiting
boldness and moderation in turn. The Republican admiral caused
the English flag to be everywhere respected. Cromwell was
conscious of this and laid great stress upon it. "That is how
things must be done," he said, "and I will render the name of
Englishman as great as was ever that of Roman."
{258}
Unfortunately, the expedition of Penn had partly failed in its
object: the attack upon St. Domingo completely miscarried through
the stupidity of the commanders and their want of foresight; the
object of all these efforts and cost was confined to the taking
of Jamaica. The great attempt against the Spanish colonies proved
more profitable to Mazarin than to Cromwell: it was a definite
rupture between the Protector and Spain. The shrewd French
minister hastened to take advantage of it. On the 24th of
October, 1655, the Spanish ambassador, Cardeñas, embarked at
Dover to return to his country, and on the same day a treaty
between France and England was signed--a treaty of commerce which
became, towards the end of November, a treaty of alliance. The
situation of the Protector in Europe became every day grander and
more powerful; but, for eighteen months, he had governed alone
and arbitrarily: his firm good sense warned him that absolute
power soon exhausts itself. He wanted money to wage war against
Spain. The moment appeared to him propitious for at length
founding legal order, and he again convoked a Parliament.
When the House assembled, on the 17th of September, 1656, the
efforts of the Protector and of his majors-generals had not
succeeded in preventing the entrance of a great number of
indomitable republicans. Vane and Bradshaw had failed; Ludlow and
Harrison had not presented themselves; but Haslerig, Scott,
Robinson, and some hundred of their friends had been elected.
{259}
At the door of the Session Hall were guards, who asked of each a
certificate of admission. The majority presented it: a hundred
and two members were without one and could not enter. The tumult
was great. The Master of the Rolls of the Commonwealth was sent
for. He arrived in great haste. "His Highness," he said, "had
given orders that the certificate of admission should be given
only to members approved of by the Council." On the morrow,
Nicholas Furnes, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, appeared at
Westminster. "According to the constitutional act of the
Protectorate," he said, "none could be elected member of
Parliament who was not a man of recognized integrity, fearing
God, and of good conduct. It was the duty of the Council to
consider whether the elect combined these conditions, without
which none could be admitted to sit."
Thus mutilated at the outset in its functions, the House accepted
its humiliation. The rejected members appeared before the Council
of State; their protest was useless. Parliament passed on to
other matters, being in haste, it was said, to occupy itself with
affairs of state. But public opinion was opposed to the arbitrary
act of the Protector; it weighed upon the whole assembly. Feeble
and inconsiderate, it preserved at the bottom of its heart the
impression of the affront which it had suffered, and a desire to
be avenged.
{260}
Cromwell, however, was in need of Parliament, for he was
meditating a great enterprise. Being assured of the necessity of
founding that great order which he had re-established upon
durable bases, he contemplated taking the title of _king_,
which had been proposed to him by his lieutenants at the time of
the constitutional act of the Protectorate, and which he had then
refused. His pretensions amounted to nothing less than placing
his family upon the re-established throne. His eldest son,
Richard, was of peaceful tastes and manners, with little capacity
for government and contention, but he could lean for support upon
his brother Henry, who had recently given proof of his capacity
as governor-general of Ireland. Parliament appeared devoted;
fortune had favored the Protector with a lucky incident. The
squadron which was cruising in the seas of Spain had captured a
fleet of Spanish galleons, coming from America and laden with
gold. The treasures were brought triumphantly to London; the
people were enthusiastic; the House voted the new taxes demanded
by the Protector. The idea of royalty was everywhere rife in
people's minds, and it easily gained favor throughout the
country.
The Cavaliers were so convinced of it that two of their number,
among those who lived on good terms with him, Lord Hertford and
Lord Broghill, made overtures to Cromwell in favor of Charles
Stuart. "You can bring back the king on any conditions you
please," said Lord Broghill, "and preserve with much less trouble
and peril the authority which you possess." "The king can never
forgive the blood of his father," said Cromwell. "You are but one
of those who took part in that act, and you alone will have the
merit of having re-established the king." "He is so debauched
that he would ruin us all," replied the Protector, and he broke
off the interview, leaving Lord Broghill convinced that he had
himself contemplated this expedient.
{261}
In the country, many wearied and discouraged Cavaliers would
willingly have accepted the return of monarchy, in the hope of
seeing the legitimate monarch ascend the throne again in a short
time. The Presbyterians, who were monarchists by nature, were
protected by Cromwell, and preponderant in religious matters. The
sectaries, who were not favorable to him, and who considered him
lukewarm in religious matters, enjoyed under his government a
liberty for which they felt grateful to him. Everything had
succeeded with him for three years; almost all thought that his
good fortune would go as far as his daring would have urged it,
and manifested an inclination to confide in it, or at least to
acquiesce.
Cromwell began to make overtures to his confidants in this great
affair; he appeared yet to hesitate; exciting by his conversation
their curiosity or their zeal, he skillfully urged them in the
path which was to lead him to the end, always remaining in a
position to stop or repudiate them.
He made use of the same policy for undermining Parliament and the
army. The House had condemned to a cruel punishment John Naylor,
a prophetic enthusiast accused of blasphemy. At the very moment
of the execution, Cromwell demanded of Parliament why the fanatic
had been removed from the jurisdiction of a jury, that bulwark of
individual liberties so dear to Englishmen. Desborough proposed
to prolong the tax of a tenth imposed upon the royalists for the
maintenance of the army. Lord Claypole, son-in-law of the
Protector, energetically opposed this measure, which was
rejected. The majors-general thus remained alone exposed to the
public hatred aroused on all hands by their exactions. The rancor
felt towards them deprived the Protector of some of his most
faithful allies.
{262}
While the friends of Cromwell were disunited, his enemies
rendered assistance to his great design. Charles II., then at
Bruges, where he received assistance from Spain, was preparing,
it was said, an expedition. He possessed some trustworthy
supporters among the Republicans, among others a man named Sexby,
who promised to raise a popular insurrection which would become
royalist as soon as Cromwell should have disappeared.
Assassination was counted upon, and the assassin was already
found. Miles Sindercombe, a bold soldier and an ardent
Republican, passed his time in watching for the moment and in
seeking the means of assassinating the Protector. On the 19th of
January, 1657, Thurloe solemnly revealed the plot at the sitting
of Parliament. Sindercombe was arrested, as well as two of his
accomplices.
Public excitement was great. It was proposed to form a committee
instructed to ask the Protector when it would be convenient to
him to receive the expression of the opinion of the House. "I
propose something more," said an obscure member, Mr. Ashe; "I
would ask his Highness to take upon him the government according
to the ancient constitution; then our liberties and tranquillity,
the safety and the privileges of his Highness would be
established upon solid foundations." A tumult arose; the motion
of Mr. Ashe was violently opposed and warmly defended: it fell as
an untimely measure; but the first landmarks were erected, the
first step was made. One month later, the 22nd of February,
Alderman Pack, member for the City of London, presented to the
House of Commons a proposal entitled, "The humble address and
remonstrance of the knights, citizens, and burgesses, now
assembled in the Parliament of this Commonwealth."
{263}
It was for the re-establishment of the monarchy and of the two
Houses. The Protector was invited to take the title of king, and
to designate his successor. After a violent discussion, the
proposal was taken into consideration, and the debate postponed
until the morrow.
While the House was discussing, some hundred officers, at the
head of whom were Lambert, Desborough, and Fleetwood, son-in-law
of Cromwell, presented themselves at the residence of the
Protector. They implored him not to accept the title of king.
"This title displeases the army," they said; "it is hazardous for
your person and the three nations; it will make way for the
return of Charles Stuart."
Cromwell immediately replied to them, "that the title of king
need not startle them so dreadfully, inasmuch as some of them
well knew it was already offered to him and pressed upon him by
themselves when this government was undertaken, that the title
'king,' a feather in a hat, is as little valuable to him as to
them. But on every occasion," he said, "they had made him their
instrument;" and he briefly recalled all the arbitrary acts which
he had accomplished, he said, at the instigation of the army.
"The nation is tired of uncertain arbitrary ways, and wishes to
come to a settlement," he continued. "By what this Parliament
have done by their own mere vote and will with James Naylor, you
will see that a check is necessary; what has happened to James
Naylor may be any one's case some day. Does the fundamental law
of the Protectorate empower me to check them?"
{264}
The facts which Cromwell recalled were embarrassing; his voice
was full of influence over his old companions. Several wavered in
their resistance; a compromise was arrived at. It was agreed that
the question of the title of king should be suspended until the
end of the debate. Upon this condition the officers accepted the
two Houses of Parliament, and the right of the Protector to
designate his successor; they undertook to allow the discussion
to follow its course peacefully. On the 25th of March, the House
voted, by a hundred and twenty-three votes against sixty-two, the
first clause of the project which had been reserved until that
day: "That your Highness will be pleased to assume the name,
style, title, dignity, and office of King of England, Scotland,
and Ireland, and the respective dominions and territories
thereunto belonging, and to exercise the same according to the
laws of those nations."
On the 25th of March, 1657, Cromwell received the House at
Whitehall, in that banqueting-hall which eight years beforehand,
Charles I. had crossed between two rows of soldiers on his way to
the scaffold. "I am but a servant," said the speaker,
Widdrington, "and I have not to express my own thoughts, but to
declare what Parliament has commanded. I am like a gardener who
plucks flowers in the garden of his master and makes therewith a
nosegay. I will only offer to your Highness what I have gathered
in the garden of Parliament." And he detailed the eighteen
articles of the "humble petition and advice," dwelling upon the
impossibility of mutilating it by rejecting one article to accept
the other.
{265}
Cromwell listened gravely and in silence; he asked time for
reflection. On the 3rd of April, he begged Parliament to send
delegates to him to receive his reply. "You do necessitate my
answer to be categorical," he said, "and you have left me without
a liberty of choice save as to all. I should be very brutish did
I not acknowledge the exceeding high honor and respect you have
had for me in this paper, and by you I return Parliament through
you my grateful acknowledgments. I must need say that that may be
fit for you to offer which may not be fit for me to undertake. I
have been able to attain no further than this, that seeing the
way is hedged up so as it is to me, and I cannot accept the
things offered unless I accept all, I have not been able to find
it my duty to God and to you to undertake this charge under that
title. And if Parliament be so resolved, 'for the whole paper or
none of it,' it will not be fit for me to use any inducement to
you to alter their resolution. ... That is all that I have to
say."
The Parliament understood the perplexity and vagueness of this
reply. It was accustomed to unravel and follow the desire of
Cromwell in the labyrinths of his deeds and words. It determined
that it would persist in its petition, while asking officially to
expound its motives before the Protector.
Cromwell knew, as well as Parliament, what was wanting to the
stability of the government of England. Lord Broghill summed up
the thought of his colleagues as well as that of the Protector
when he said, "It is by the title of king, and never by any
other, that our ancient laws designate the head magistracy; now
ancient foundations, when they are good, are better than new
ones, were they equally good; that which is confirmed by time and
experience has afforded proof of its worth, and carries with it
much more authority."
{266}
In reality, Parliament did not speak to Cromwell nor Cromwell to
Parliament. They were both addressing themselves to a public who
were not in Whitehall--to the dissentient but moderate
Republicans, whom they hoped to bring over to their views; to the
whole country, which they wished to associate with the foundation
of a new dynasty in order that it might compel the ancient
parties to accept it.
The conferences therefore continued. Cromwell listened to the
exhortations of Parliament with evident satisfaction, mingled,
however, with a great perturbation of mind; he was not a man of
simple and fixed ideas, who marched steadfastly towards his
object. When any one addressed him, his powerful imagination
caused to pass rapidly before his eyes the most hidden recesses
as well as the most diverse phases of his position; he saw all
the near or remote consequences, either probable or only
possible, of the act which he was meditating. The matter
progressed slowly, and Parliament began to evince some ill-humor.
It was quite willing to assist the Protector in making him king,
but not to present the appearance of doing it in spite of
himself, thus assuming all the responsibility of the
re-establishment of the monarchy. All the amendments, however,
being adopted, the petition was again presented to the Protector.
He contented himself with glancing at the last sentences, saying
hurriedly and in a low tone of voice that, the document requiring
some consideration, he could not yet appoint a day; as soon as he
should have determined upon one, he would let the House know of
it; it would be as soon as was possible, he doing all he could to
expedite it.
{267}
Cromwell had gained over Parliament; he had influenced the public
mind; but, notwithstanding his ardent endeavors, some of the most
important of the leaders of the army remained hostile to him, and
persisted in their opposition to his design, either through envy
or republican and sectarian fidelity, or as in the case of
Desborough, his brother-in-law, and Fleetwood, his son-in-law, in
the very interests of his family; all were convinced that the
re-establishment of the monarchy would turn to the advantage of
Charles Stuart. In vain did Cromwell repeat his favorite phrase;
that it was a feather in a hat, and that he was astonished that
some men did not allow children to play with their rattles; the
Republican chiefs were inflexible. The country was in reality
indifferent to the question. England did not expect from the
projected change the return of the two things which it had at
heart, a stable monarchy and a free Parliament. Meanwhile the
House was convoked for the 6th of May, at Westminster. The choice
of the place appeared to indicate a resolution at length to
accept the crown, for the Protector ordinarily received the House
at Whitehall. But on the 7th of May the committee learnt that the
general audience was postponed to the morrow; they were awaiting
in vain the interview which had been promised. When they returned
on the morrow to Whitehall, a deputation of officers presented
themselves before the House. "Cromwell has decided to accept the
crown," Desborough said to Colonel Pride. "He will not do it,"
said Pride. "How will you prevent it?" "Get me a petition well
drawn up, and I will prevent it!" It was this petition, written
by Doctor Owen, formerly chaplain to Cromwell, which the officers
brought to the bar of Parliament.
{268}
"Certain people," they said, "were making great efforts to place
their country under its former servitude, by urging their general
to accept the title of king; and that to ruin him, in order that
the power should no longer be in the hands of the faithful
servants of God and the public! They implored the House to lend
no support to such people or to such designs, and to remain firm
to the good old cause, for which they were always ready to
sacrifice their lives."
The House was embarrassed and agitated. Cromwell being
immediately informed of this incident, sent for Fleetwood,
complaining bitterly that he should have suffered such a
petition, and demanding that the House should repair on that very
day to Whitehall. As soon as the assemblage was present in the
Banqueting Hall, Cromwell entered.
"Mr. Speaker," he said, "I come hither to answer that which was
in your last paper to your committee you sent me yesterday, which
was in relation to the desires that were offered me by the House
in that they called their petition.
"I have the best I can resolved the whole business in my
thoughts. I must bear my testimony to the act, that the
intentions and the things are very honorable and honest, and the
product worthy of a Parliament. ... I have only had the
unhappiness not to be convinced of the necessity of that thing
which hath been so often insisted on by you--to wit, the title of
king. ... And whilst you are granting other liberties, surely you
will not deny me this, which is not only a liberty but a duty.
... If I shall do anything on this account to answer your
expectation at the best, I should do it doubtingly. ... And
whatsoever is not of faith is sin to him that doth it. ...
{269}
"I, lying under this consideration, think it my duty, only I
could have wished I had done it sooner for the sake of the House,
who have laid such infinite obligations on me. ... But truly this
is my answer that, although I think the act of government doth
consist of very excellent parts in all but that one thing of the
title as to me, ... I cannot accept of the government, nor
undertake the trouble and charge of it as to which I have, a
little more experimented than everybody. ... I say I am persuaded
to return this answer to you, that I cannot undertake this
government with the title of king. And that is mine answer to
this great and weighty business."
The House withdrew, astonished and discontented. Three weeks
later it voted, in all its details, the "Humble petition and
advice," in which the title of Protector everywhere replaced the
title of King, and on the 26th of June, in great pomp, Cromwell
took the oath to the new constitution which re-established the
two Houses, concentrated the power in the hands of the Protector,
and gave him the right of designating his successor. There was no
longer a Republic. There were only wanting a hereditary right and
the title of king to make a monarchy.
Cromwell had attempted more than he could accomplish; and,
notwithstanding the splendor which surrounded the new act of the
Protectorate, notwithstanding the new rights which were attached
thereto, he felt his power and reputation lessened. A little
tract was profusely circulated, under this title: "Killing no
Murder." The pamphlet was dedicated to Cromwell himself.
{270}
"To your Highness the honor is due of dying for the people," said
the pamphlet, which was attributed to Sexby, "and it will surely
be for you, at the last moment of your life, an inexpressible
consolation to see how much good you will do in the world by
quitting it. Then alone, my Lord, the titles which you now usurp
will really belong to you; then you will be the liberator of your
country, for you will deliver it from a bondage almost equal to
that from which Moses freed the Jews. ... All this we hope from
the death of your Highness. ... It is to hasten this great good
that I write this tract. ..." Sexby was arrested and placed in
the Tower; he died there several months later, thus escaping the
punishment which he had so often merited.
While the assassination of the Protector was thus openly proposed
to the country, as a means of deliverance, the Upper House, which
had been recently formed with great difficulty, met in the
Commons with considerable jealousy and ill-will. Cromwell had
been compelled to place in the former assembly a few of his most
faithful adherents; he had summoned thither seven of his former
peers: one only responded to the appeal. A friend of Cromwell,
Lord Warwick himself, whose son, Mr. Rich, had recently married
Lady Francis, youngest daughter of the Protector, refused to take
his seat. "I will not," he said, "sit beside the shoemaker
Hewson." In vain did Cromwell, on the 25th of January, 1658, open
the sitting of Parliament with a speech which began with these
decisive words: "My Lords and Gentlemen of the House of Commons;"
the Commons refused to give the honorary title of the "other"
House, and only accepted communications with the Peers through
their own messengers. The members excluded at the opening of
Parliament, in 1657, presented themselves to take their seats,
and Cromwell no longer thought of excluding them, for they
proposed to take the oath to the new constitution.
{271}
Republican passion gained the ascendant; it had found its former
chief, Sir Arthur Haselrig; being summoned to the House of Lords
he refused to sit, and returned to take his place in the House of
Commons at the head of the opposition.
Cromwell had in vain kept from any office his former comrade,
Lambert, who had refused to take the oath to the new
constitution. In vain had he been delivered of an austere witness
by the death of Admiral Blake, who had succumbed beneath the
fatigues of his triumph, after having won the victory of
Teneriffe against the Spaniards. The Protector, who had not
succeeded in making himself king, was conscious of a
revolutionary agitation around him. On the 4th of February,
without consulting or apprising any one, he repaired to the House
of Lords and caused the House of Commons to be summoned. "I had
very comfortable expectations," he said, "that God would make the
meeting of this Parliament a blessing. ... It was granted I
should name another House. I named it ... of men of your own rank
and quality, who should shake hands with you, who would not only
be a balance unto you. ... Yet, instead of owning a king, some
must have I know not what, and you have not only disjointed
yourselves but the whole nation, and that at the moment when the
King of Scots hath an army at the water-side ready to be shipped
for England. ... If this be your carriage, I think it high time
that an end be put to your sitting, and I do dissolve this
Parliament. And let God judge between you and me." "Amen!"
replied a few of the opposition.
{272}
Cromwell sought in the army the support which Parliament refused
him; he convoked a grand council of officers, and expounded to
them the perils of the situation, with an invasion and an
insurrection imminent, Charles Stuart united with the Spaniards,
the Spaniards with the Cavaliers, the Cavaliers with the
Levellers; civil war certain, and the army threatened with losing
all the advantages which it had conquered at the price of its
blood. Parliament was laboring to destroy the constitutional act
which it had voted. Were the army and its leaders determined with
him to preserve it? This was responded to with acclamations.
Cromwell urged on his advantages. He had noticed some officers
who were gloomy and silent. He addressed them personally. "We are
ready," said Parker, a major commanding his own regiment, "to
fight against Charles Stuart and his adherents, but we cannot
engage ourselves blindly and for every case." Cromwell did not
reply, but a few days later the adverse officers were dismissed,
and they proceeded to range themselves around Lambert, who was
cultivating flowers in his garden at Wimbledon.
It was the general opinion that, in all these demonstrations, the
Protector much exaggerated the perils with which the public peace
and his government were threatened. The nation was in this
neither so foreseeing nor so well informed as its chief.
Indomitable in their hopes as in their hatreds, the hostile
parties were rallying in the shadow of their reverses. As soon as
the Protector was seen to be in contention with Parliament, which
had wished to make him king, a new and terrible conspiracy was
set afoot against him in all directions. Levellers, Cavaliers,
Republicans, ex-members of the State-Council, Anabaptist
ministers, were alike passionately engaged in it. The
conspirators carried their audacity, in London even and under the
eyes of Cromwell, to the point of fixing the day and hour on
which the city was to be occupied, the Lord Mayor arrested, and
the Tower fired.
{273}
The policy of Cromwell was as bold as, and more experienced than
that of the conspirators. He had known before his best friends
had discovered it that the Marquis of Ormond had visited London,
to come to an understanding with the conspirators of all parties
and all ranks. "Tell him that I know where he is and what he is
doing," the Protector said to Lord Broghill, who was defending
himself from the charge of having been cognizant of the journey
of Ormond. The plot was complete and about to burst forth, but
suddenly numerous hurried arrests took place, surprising the
Republican, Royalist, and Anabaptist conspirators. The Tower was
filled with prisoners. In London, on the very morning of the day
fixed for the great insurrection, the ringleaders were captured
in the house in which they had met, and Colonel Barkstead,
Lieutenant of the Tower, advanced to the middle of the city with
five cannon. The plot was thwarted everywhere, stricken powerless
at the moment when the conspirators thought themselves assured of
success.
Cromwell was unwilling to trust this important matter to a jury.
By virtue of an act of the Parliament which he had recently
dissolved, he constituted a High Court, composed of a hundred and
thirty members and presided over by Lord Lisle, one of the judges
of Charles I. The accused persons all protested against this
exceptional jurisdiction.
{274}
"I demand to be tried by a jury," said Sir Henry Slingsby, an
indomitable Cavalier; "you are my enemies. I see among you
persons who have confiscated and caused my estates to be sold.
... You accuse me of having violated your laws. ... I cannot have
violated them since I have never submitted to them. ..." Doctor
Hewitt, a clergyman justly esteemed by the Church of England,
claimed with the same firmness the rights "which were those of
his fellow-countrymen as well as his own." Both were condemned
and executed, notwithstanding the circumstance that Sir Henry
Slingsby was the uncle of Lord Falconbridge, who had recently
married Lady Mary, one of the daughters of the Protector, and
though Doctor Hewitt had recently bestowed his blessing upon that
marriage privately. Lady Claypole, the favorite daughter of
Cromwell, made in common with her sisters ardent efforts to
obtain the pardon of the Doctor. Cromwell was inflexible; he
thought severity necessary. Six executions took place, then the
Protector allowed the High Court to rest, and the last accused
persons were tried by jury. He continued to be troubled and
dejected--causing horses to be driven fast when he rode in his
carriage, followed by numerous guards, and often changing his
sleeping apartment in Whitehall. This gloomy anxiety with regard
to his safety ill accorded with the character of Cromwell; his
powerful self-will was still firm and bold, but an evident
necessity weighed upon him; he accepted it frankly and without
illusion, guarding his life with the same ardor which he had
formerly brought to bear in achieving his great position.
{275}
He undoubtedly experienced a bitter mixture of pleasure and pride
when he turned his eyes to the other side of the Channel, and
when, while his situation at home was so precarious and so
perilous, he contrasted with this the power and splendor which he
had conquered abroad for his country and himself. It was
precisely at this time, when he was contending so arduously in
England against plots, that he obtained upon the Continent the
most brilliant successes. He had not been slow to perceive that,
to make war against Spain effectively, the treaty of peace and
commerce which he had concluded with France did not suffice; he
had therefore responded to the advances of Mazarin for a more
intimate and fruitful union. A treaty of alliance, offensive and
defensive, between France and England had been concluded in
Paris, on the 23d of March, 1657; and a few weeks later six
thousand English soldiers, carefully chosen by Cromwell, landed
at Boulogne, ready to join the army of Turenne. "Sire," said
Lockhart, the English ambassador and a relative of Cromwell, to
the young king, "the Protector has commanded his officers and
soldiers to display in the service of your Majesty the same zeal
as in his own." Louis XIV. showed himself to be very sensible of
this mark of affection "of a prince whom he considered," he said,
"as one of the greatest and happiest in Europe." The campaign was
prolonged; meanwhile Mazarin did not keep his promise: Cromwell
complained, as he knew how to complain. Mardyck, besieged and
soon captured, was consigned as a hostage to the English; the
troops marched towards Gravelines, but the Spaniards having
opened all the dams around the town, the capture became
impossible. It was found necessary to put off to the spring of
1658 the siege of Dunkirk.
{276}
The town was invested; all the court was present to be witnesses
of the assault. The Spaniards would not believe that Dunkirk was
in danger. Don John of Austria hastened forward, however, to its
defence, with his cavalry and a portion of the artillery. The
Prince of Condé, unhappily engaged among the enemies of his
country, was desirous of awaiting the remainder of the troops. "I
am persuaded," said Don John, "that the French will not even dare
to look at the army of his Catholic Majesty face to face." "Ah!
you do not know M. de Turenne," said Condé; "a mistake is not
made with impunity in presence of that man." The fight began on
the 14th of June. At daybreak Turenne sent an intimation to
Lockhart, who had assumed the command of the English troops. The
aide-de-camp of the marshal was desirous of explaining his plan
to the English general. "It is well," replied Lockhart, "I rely
upon M. de Turenne; he shall tell me his reasons after the
battle, if it is agreeable to him." Strange contrast between the
manly discipline of English good sense, and the frivolous
blindness of Spanish pride. Condé was not mistaken; the issue of
the battle could not be doubtful to his old experience. "My
lord," he said to the young Duke of Gloucester, who was serving
in the Spanish army with his brother, the Duke of York, "you have
never seen an army give battle?" "No, prince." "Well, you are
going to see how a battle may be lost." The battle of the Dunes
was in fact completely lost by the Spaniards. With two
exceptions, all the officers of the regiment of Lockhart were
killed or wounded. On the 25th of June, 1658, Louis XIV. entered
Dunkirk, to solemnly surrender it into the hands of the English.
{277}
"Although the court and the army may be in despair at depriving
themselves of so good a morsel," wrote Lockhart to Thurloe, "the
cardinal is firm in his promises, and appears as pleased at
surrendering this town into the hands of his Highness as I am to
receive it. The king is also extremely obliging and polite, and
he has more probity in his soul than I imagined."
It was a great triumph for Cromwell, and he enjoyed it without
suffering himself to be dazzled by success. An exchange of
magnificent embassies--Lord Falconbridge in France on the part of
the Protector, the Duke of Créquy in England on the part of Louis
XIV.--completed the ratification of this alliance, which had
already borne such glorious fruit and restored to England that
foothold in France of which the Duke of Guise had deprived it in
reconquering Calais. Cromwell began once more to think of the
election of a new Parliament, which at last should sanction,
support, and perpetuate his power. The confidence of the country
and the money necessary for the war were equally wanting to him.
His friends urged him to nominate his successor.
Cromwell listened, hesitated, and did not act. He was painfully
occupied by family afflictions. After three months of marriage
his daughter had lost her husband, Robert Rich, who was scarcely
twenty-three years of age; and Cromwell's favorite daughter, Lady
Claypole, who for a long time had been dangerously ill, was
growing weaker day by day. She was a person of noble and delicate
feelings, of an elegant and cultivated mind, faithful to her
friends, generous towards her enemies, and she had passionately
returned to her father the tenderness which the latter manifested
towards her. For a fortnight he did not leave her bedside, and
when she died at last, on the 6th of April, 1658, all business
was suspended until politics were able to obtain of the father a
momentary cessation of his grief.
{278}
Cromwell himself was moreover ill in health; he had made an
effort to resume his labors, but intermittent fever set in,
aggravating the disorders to which the Protector had for a long
while been subject. His physicians insisted upon his leaving
Hampton Court, where his daughter had died. He returned to
London. The complaint increased and became serious. The Protector
appeared to have no thought of public affairs, but he set in
order matters concerning his family and household. He had,
however, not abandoned the thought of living, and he counted upon
the answer of God to the prayers of his friends. "Treat me like a
poor domestic," he said to his doctors; "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." Cromwell, in fact,
was much prayed for. "Truly," wrote Thurloe to Henry Cromwell,
"there is a general consternation upon the spirits of all men,
good and bad, fearing what may be the event of it should it
please God to take his Highness at this time, and God having
prepared the heart to pray, I trust He will incline His ear to
hear."
The disorder increased nevertheless; the attacks were more
violent and frequent, the prostration of Cromwell greater. He had
not yet named his successor; no one dared to speak to him of it.
Thurloe had undertaken to do so, but he still hesitated. The
Protector had kept his intentions secret; mention was made among
the people of his two sons and of his son-in-law, Fleetwood, who
was more agreeable to the army. The prudent Thurloe did not wish
to place himself at variance with any of the pretenders; he
therefore waited.
[Image]
Cromwell At The Death-bed Of His Daughter.
{279}
The religious opinions of Cromwell had very feebly influenced his
conduct, and he had often placed them at the service of worldly
interests, but they had never disappeared from this soul burdened
with prevarications and criminal acts, and they resumed all their
sway upon his deathbed. "Tell me," he said, on the 2nd of
September, to one of his chaplains, "is it possible to fall from
the state of grace?" "No," said the divine. "Then am I safe,"
said Cromwell, "for I am sure that once I was in a state of
grace." He tossed about in his bed, praying aloud. "Lord," he
said, "I am a miserable creature. ... Thou hast made me, though
very unworthy, a mean instrument to do them some good and Thee
service. ... And many of them have set too high a value upon me,
though others wish and would be glad of my death. Lord, however
Thou do dispose of me, continue and go on to do good for them.
Give them consistency of judgment, one heart and mutual love. ...
Pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a poor worm.
... Even for Jesus Christ's sake. And give us a good night if it
be Thy pleasure. Amen."
The repose which Cromwell asked of God was approaching for him.
It was on the 3rd of September, the anniversary of his victories
of Dunbar and Worcester. He muttered now only broken words:
"Truly God is good ... indeed He is ... I would be willing to
live to be farther serviceable to God and His people, but my work
is done ... yet God will be with His people." Some drink was
offered to him, and he was urged to sleep. "It is not my design
to drink or sleep," he said, "but my design is to make what haste
I can to be gone." He fell into a profound stupor, from which he
did not arouse again. A sigh alone announced to those present
that he had expired.
{280}
A universal shudder ran through England at this news. Friends and
enemies all felt that the true time of stirring events had come
again. Only a few moments before his death the Protector had
named his son Richard to succeed him; he was proclaimed without
opposition. "It has pleased God," wrote Thurloe to Henry
Cromwell, "to give to his Highness your brother a very easy and
peaceful beginning in his government; there is not a dog who wags
his tongue, so profound is the calm which we are in." The great
head of European Protestantism was interred at Westminster with a
magnificence which surpassed anything that had been seen in
England at the funerals of kings; it was from the obsequies of
the most "Catholic of monarchs," Philip II., King of Spain, that
the ceremony was copied.
Everything had succeeded with Cromwell; he had arrived at the
summit of power and grandeur, and yet he died in sadness.
Whatever may have been his selfishness, he was too high-souled
for the highest fortune of a purely personal and ephemeral kind
to afford him satisfaction. Weary of the destruction which he had
accomplished, he desired in his heart to restore to his country a
regular and stable government, the only kind which was suited to
her, namely, monarchy with Parliament. At the same time carrying
his ambition beyond the tomb, and thirsting for that permanent
place in men's esteem which is the crown of greatness, he aspired
to leave his name and race in the possession of power in the
future.
{281}
In all these designs he was deceived. His daring enterprises had
created around him obstacles which neither his powerful genius
nor his obstinate will had sufficed to overcome. Overburdened
with power and glory personally, he died deprived of his dearest
hopes, leaving behind to succeed him only the two foes whom he
had so ardently contended against--monarchy and the Stuarts.
{282}