There is a story of Cromwel recorded by Echard, the historian, which
well deserves to be mentioned, as strikingly illustrative of the
credulity which prevailed about this period. It takes its date from
the morning of the third of September, 1651, when Cromwel gained the
battle of Worcester against Charles the Second, which he was
accustomed to call by a name sufficiently significant, his "crowning
victory." It is told on the authority of a colonel Lindsey, who is
said to have been an intimate friend of the usurper, and to have been
commonly known by that name, as being in reality the senior captain
in Cromwel's own regiment. "On this memorable morning the general,"
it seems, "took this officer with him to a woodside not far from the
army, and bade him alight, and follow him into that wood, and to take
particular notice of what he saw and heard. After having alighted,
and secured their horses, and walked some little way into the wood,
Lindsey began to turn pale, and to be seized with horror from some
unknown cause. Upon which Cromwel asked him how he did, or how he
felt himself. He answered, that he was in such a trembling and
consternation, that he had never felt the like in all the conflicts
and battles he had ever been engaged in: but whether it proceeded
from the gloominess of the place, or the temperature of his body,
he knew not. 'How now?' said Cromwel, 'What, troubled with the
vapours? Come forward, man.' They had not gone above twenty yards
further, before Lindsey on a sudden stood still, and cried out, 'By
all that is good I am seized with such unaccountable terror and
astonishment, that it is impossible for me to stir one step further.'
Upon which Cromwel called him, 'Fainthearted fool!' and bade him,
'stand there, and observe, or be witness.' And then the general,
advancing to some distance from him, met a grave, elderly man with
a roll of parchment in his hand, who delivered it to Cromwel, and
he eagerly perused it, Lindsey, a little recovered from his fear,
heard several loud words between them: particularly Cromwel said,
'This is but for seven years; I was to have had it for one-and-twenty;
and it must, and shall be so.' The other told him positively, it could
not be for more than seven. Upon which Cromwel cried with great
fierceness, 'It shall however be for fourteen years.' But the other
peremptorily declared, 'It could not possibly be for any longer time;
and, if he would not take it so, there were others that would.' Upon
which Cromwel at last took the parchment: and, returning to Lindsey
with great joy in his countenance, he cried, 'Now, Lindsey, the battle
is our own! I long to be engaged.' Returning out of the wood, they
rode to the army, Cromwel with a resolution to engage as soon as
possible, and the other with a design to leave the army as soon. After
the first charge, Lindsey deserted his post, and rode away with all
possible speed day and night, till he came into the county of Norfolk,
to the house of an intimate friend, one Mr. Thoroughgood, minister
of the parish of Grimstone. Cromwel, as soon as he missed him, sent
all ways after him, with a promise of a great reward to any that
should bring him alive or dead. When Mr. Thoroughgood saw his friend
Lindsey come into his yard, his horse and himself much tired, in a
sort of a maze, he said, 'How now, colonel? We hear there is likely
to be a battle shortly: what, fled from your colours?' 'A battle,'
said the other; 'yes there has been a battle, and I am sure the king
is beaten. But, if ever I strike a stroke for Cromwel again, may I
perish eternally! For I am sure he has made a league with the devil,
and the devil will have him in due time.' Then, desiring his
protection from Cromwel's inquisitors, he went in, and related to
him the story in all its circumstances." It is scarcely necessary
to remind the reader, that Cromwel died on that day seven years,
September the third, 1658.
Echard adds, to prove his impartiality as an historian, "How far
Lindsey is to be believed, and how far the story is to be accounted
incredible, is left to the reader's faith and judgment, and not to
any determination of our own."