TRIUMPHS OF THE COMMONWEALTH BY LAND AND SEA.--(1649-1652.)
True dispatch is a rich thing; for time is the measure of
business, as money is of wares.--BACON.
The Commons now formally abolished the House of Lords (19th March),
and settled the government as a ‘commonwealth or free state’ (19th
May, 1649). A Republican government is more or less democratical
according to the number of those that are privileged to take part
in it, either directly as rulers, or indirectly as electors. The
government now established under the name of a republic was, in fact,
a close oligarchy, and not so popular in constitution as the monarchy
which it had overthrown. The body that exercised both the legislative
and executive functions numbered about 120, and of these there were
rarely more than fifty present at a debate. Though these members had
been elected more than eight years ago, and represented but a small
fraction of the nation, they had the power of refusing all share in
the government to any but their own partisans, while they could not
themselves be legally removed without their own consent. Yet, if the
Republican ideal was to be carried into act, it had to be done by this
remnant of a Parliament. The dissolution of the House involved too
great a risk. If all the electors were allowed to take part in choosing
a new representative, the majority of members would be Presbyterians
and Royalists; if, on the other hand, Presbyterian and Royalist
electors were disfranchised, the army officers would get an assembly
which only represented themselves. Under these circumstances, both the
honest men in the House and the self-interested were agreed in wishing
to avoid a dissolution--the former, such as Vane, Martin, Ludlow,
Hutchinson, and Bradshaw, because they thought that, in founding a
republic, they were rendering their country an incalculable benefit;
the latter, either through desire of power in the future, or fear of
consequences for the past. “We slipped into circumstances by degrees,”
says the lawyer Whitelock, one of these followers with the stream, “by
little and little plunging further in, until we knew not how to get out
again.”[174] To carry on the executive for the present a council of
state was appointed, containing forty-one of the most influential men
in the army and the House.
%THE REPUBLIC--ITS ENEMIES.%
The Commonwealth had so many enemies that, but for the support of
Cromwell and the army, it could not have stood for a day. At home
it was threatened with danger alike from the country people and the
Levellers: abroad it was threatened from Scotland, where the Prince
of Wales had been proclaimed king of the three countries (Feb. 12th);
from Ireland, where Ormond was still supreme; from the Channel, which
Rupert held with the revolted ships; and from Europe at large, whose
princes refused to recognize the rule of Republican rebels. The
Emperor of Russia drove English merchants out of his dominions. The
foreign representatives of the Commonwealth were assassinated. Dr.
Dorislaus, the agent of the Republic to the States of Holland, was
murdered by six Scotch followers of Montrose the very evening of his
arrival at the Hague (May 3rd). A like fate befell Ascham, the agent
of the Commonwealth to Spain. Two days after his arrival at Madrid,
six men entered his chamber while he was at dinner, and, taking off
their hats, saluted the company with the words, “Welcome, gallants,
welcome!” Ascham rose, thinking them to be friends, and in another
moment lay dead on the floor along with one of his companions. Out of
the six criminals the Spanish government brought but one to justice.
These disgraceful murders of “the things called ambassadors” were open
subjects of rejoicing with Royalist exiles.
%EIKON BASILIKE.%
The Commonwealth, while thus attacked by its open enemies abroad, found
no support among the masses at home. The immediate result of Charles’
execution was to produce a revulsion of feeling in his favour. His
faults were buried in his grave; his private virtues lived after him.
A book was published, entitled Eikôn Basilikê, or the Royal Image,
which professed to be written by Charles himself during his captivity
at Carisbrooke Castle. In it the theory of Divine Right was pictured in
its softest colours. Without abating one jot or tittle of the king’s
high pretensions as ruling by the will of God, Charles was portrayed
as the father of his people, the lover of the established laws and of
Parliaments, yielding in all points to the desires of his subjects,
save where conscience and honour forbade. Against such a prince the
people had taken up arms, misled by a few bold, bad men acting from
love of power, blind party passions, and greed to satisfy their own
necessities out of the lands and revenues of the Church. By these men
the king’s acts had been misrepresented, his good faith unreasonably
questioned, but he remained frank and generously forgiving as ever. In
his instructions to his son he is represented as bidding him entertain
no dislike of Parliaments, but remember that the rebels had acted from
misapprehension of their own good. In the prayers with which each
chapter of the book closes, he is found beseeching God to bestow upon
his enemies repentance and pardon, in place of punishment for the sin
of fighting against God’s anointed. For himself, let what would happen,
he could still patiently submit to God’s chastening hand, in the full
assurance that his Saviour’s crown of thorns was more precious than
any crown of gold. Though in fact a forgery of Doctor Gauden, the book
produced as great an effect as if it had proceeded from Charles’ own
hand. 48,000 copies of this Image of the Martyr-King were sold in a
year.[175]
To increase the reaction in the king’s favour, famine appeared in
many parts of the country. The present Commonwealth and the late
government of the two Houses were associated in the mind of the people
with a standing army and heavy taxes;[176] Charles’ rule with the
happy memories of unbroken peace. Tales of distress often came before
the House--of a town reduced almost to penury, because the commander
of the garrison, left unprovided by the government, was forced to
allow the soldiers to live at free quarters; of tumults against the
tax-gatherers, in which the starving people declared “that they would
leave their wives and children to be maintained by the gentry, for the
bread was eaten out of their mouths by the taxes.”[177]
%MUTINY OF LEVELLERS.%
From all this discontent the Republicans had little to fear, so long
as the army remained faithful. Discontent, however, was widespread
there. A successful revolution, however much it offends moderates, must
disappoint extremes. Fifth Monarchists, Levellers, Anabaptists, found
that neither the equality of men nor the millennium had come with the
Republic. Petitions came that the House should dissolve in August;
that new parliaments should be held every year; that excise and customs
should be abolished; that the law and the church should be reformed;
and, lastly, that none should pay rent or homage to fellow-creatures.
Aroused by hunger or belief in natural right, bands of men began to
dig and plant unenclosed lands. Pamphlets and papers were published
supporting the principles of the Levellers. “The gentry,” it was said,
“held all authority and command, and drove on designs for their own
interest and the people’s slavery. The nobles, who had come in with
William the Conqueror, had seized the lands of the people and forced
the king to consent to laws necessary to preserve themselves, but had
never acted from any love to the poor Commons.” The impracticable
Lilburne, the leader and mouthpiece of all the discontented, published
tract after tract to stir up the soldiers to mutiny by attacking the
ambition of the officers and the tyranny of the House. “The officers,”
he wrote, “are inferior to the essential part of the army, the
soldiery, and ought to be controlled and overthrown when they try to
overthrow and control the soldiery. We were before ruled by a King,
Lords, and Commons; now by a General, a Court-Martial, and a House of
Commons. We are but under an old cheat, the transmutation of names, but
with the addition of new tyrannies to the old; and the last state of
this Commonwealth is worse than the first.”
The moment was critical. Prince Charles was invited to Ireland, and,
should he land the Irish army in England in the midst of all this
surging discontent, Presbyterians and Royalists might rise and defeat
an army and party divided against itself. To meet the danger at its
source, the Council of State appointed Cromwell commander-in-chief,
with orders to make an expedition against Ireland. The soldiers,
however, now refused to obey the orders of their officers, and broke
out into open mutiny. In Oxfordshire, in Gloucestershire, in Wiltshire,
bodies of men marched off from their head-quarters in arms. Fairfax,
however, and his officers followed closely on the insurgents, who
within a fortnight were all either taken prisoners or defeated and
dispersed. The last body of mutineers had marched north from Salisbury,
forded the Thames, and reached Burford, in Oxfordshire. Fairfax was at
Andover, but, by a march of fifty miles in the day, he surprised them
the same evening in their quarters. The larger part of the army had,
in fact, remained faithful to their generals, who could be tender,
without being weak, stern, without being cruel, so that their soldiers
loved and respected them accordingly. “Those,” said Cromwell, “that
thought martial law a burden should have liberty to lay down their
arms, and be paid their arrears the same as those that stayed; for the
rest, the Parliament would in time do all that they desired.” Of the
Burford mutineers, out of 400 prisoners, every tenth man was condemned
by court-martial to be shot. The sentence was only executed upon three;
the others felt grateful for the mercy extended to them: Cromwell’s
words brought them to their reason; the men repented, and their
leader confessed that many of his party “were so enraged against the
Parliament that he did think (in his conscience) there would have been
great cruelty exercised by these men, and that it was a happy hour they
were surprised and prevented.”
%STORMING OF DROGHEDA.%
Meantime the Duke of Ormond had effected a peace with the Catholics
in Ireland by promising them, in the name of Charles Stuart, the free
exercise of their religion (Jan., 1649). He had further succeeded in
uniting in the Prince’s favour all four parties in the island--the
Irish Catholics; the Catholic descendants of the old English
settlers; English Episcopalians, whether fugitive Royalists or men
whose fathers had been planted by Elizabeth and James on the lands
of Irish rebels; and, lastly, the Scotch Presbyterians of the Ulster
settlement. Accordingly, when Cromwell arrived in Ireland at the head
of 12,000 men, he found almost the whole country under the power of
the Royalists (Aug. 15th). A Parliamentary garrison in Dublin itself
had only escaped a siege by surprising the enemy on the banks of the
Liffey (Aug. 2nd). The general first marched against Drogheda, then
called Droghdagh or Tredah, and summoned the garrison to surrender.
Sir Arthur Ashton, the governor, refused; he had 3000 of the choicest
troops of the confederates and enough provisions to enable him to
hold out till winter should compel the enemy to raise the siege. But
within twenty-four hours the English batteries had made a breach in
the wall. Oliver, after twice seeing his soldiers beaten off, led them
on in person and carried the breach. A terrible massacre followed.
“Being in the heat of action I forbade them,” Cromwell wrote in his
despatch to the Parliament, “to spare any that were in arms in the
town; and I think that night they put to the sword about 2000 men.” Of
these, one-half probably fell in the streets; the other half Cromwell
describes as having been slain at early dawn in St. Peter’s Church.
This he looks upon as a judgment for their previous proceedings there.
“It is remarkable,” he writes, “that these people at first set up
the mass in some places of the town that had been monasteries; but
afterwards grew so insolent that, the last Lord’s day before the storm,
the Protestants were thrust out of the great church called St. Peter’s,
and they had public mass there; and in this very place near 1000 of
them were put to the sword, fleeing thither for safety. I believe all
the friars were knocked on the head promiscuously but two.” Of the
original garrison of 3000, many must have fallen in the defence; and of
the remainder who escaped for that night, the officers were ‘knocked
on the head,’ and the soldiers mostly shipped for Barbadoes. “I am
persuaded,” he further writes, “that this is a righteous judgment
of God upon these barbarous wretches, who have imbrued their hands
in so much innocent blood; and that it will tend to prevent the
effusion of blood for the future, which are the satisfactory grounds
to such actions, which otherwise cannot but work remorse and regret.
The officers and soldiers of this garrison were the flower of their
army.... That which caused your men to storm so courageously, it was
the Spirit of God, who gave your men courage, and took it away again;
and gave the enemy courage, and took it away again; and gave your men
courage again, and therewith this happy success. And, therefore, it is
good that God alone have all the glory.”
Royalist accounts assert that many hundreds of women and children were
slain in St. Peter’s Church. It is, of course, possible that some of
the townspeople, fleeing thither for safety, lost their lives in the
general massacre of the garrison. There is, however, no trustworthy
witness[178] for any lives being taken except those of soldiers
and friars. Cromwell did not sanction the killing of any but those
with arms in their hands, though he seems to have approved of the
fate of the friars. The fanatical zeal of his letter, and the fact
that he takes the full credit or discredit for the slaughter of the
garrison, makes it improbable that he concealed anything; and this is
substantiated by his subsequent declaration, in which he gives this
challenge:--“Give us an instance of one man, since my coming into
Ireland, not in arms, massacred, destroyed, or banished, concerning
the massacre or the destruction of whom justice hath not been done, or
endeavoured to be done.”
%IRISH CAMPAIGN.%
With the enemy’s troops Cromwell carried out the determined mode of
warfare which he began at Drogheda. They were mostly scattered over
the country, occupied in garrison duty. Before whatever town he came
he demanded immediate surrender, or threatened to refuse quarter.
Town after town opened its gates to this grim summons. Wexford, which
refused to surrender, was stormed, and the whole garrison, 2000 in
number, put to the sword (Oct. 11th).
While condemning these massacres we must remember, not only that there
had been a terrible massacre of Protestants eight years before,[179]
but that the Celts, whether Irish or Highlanders, failed themselves to
observe towards others the rules of war obtaining among more civilized
nations; and further that, even according to the rules of war of that
time, the garrisons of places taken by storm were presumed to have lost
their right to quarter; the Catholic generals on the Continent had, in
fact, put to the sword, not only the garrisons, but the inhabitants
of Protestant towns. Yet Cromwell was probably not so much influenced
by precedents of his own day as by those drawn from “the wars of the
Lord” in his Bible. It is not the only time that religion has been made
to seem at war with humanity through the mistaken idea, that usages
tolerated among uncivilized nations 3000 years ago are a model for
the observance of Christians. The history of the Indian mutiny, in our
own time, shows that the danger of an uncritical interpretation of the
sacred records is not past for us. It was only in the case of these two
garrisons that Cromwell was merciless, but this blot on his character
increased his difficulties in the next Scottish campaign by inspiring
groundless fears in the civil population.
%REDUCTION OF IRELAND.%
In other respects, while Cromwell’s rigour and determination saved
bloodshed in the end by the rapidity and completeness of his conquests,
his conduct in Ireland contrasted favourably on many points with that
of the Royalists there. His own soldiers, for ill-using the people
contrary to regulations, were sometimes cashiered the army, sometimes
hanged. When a treaty was made, he kept faithfully to its terms.
Garrisons that yielded on summons were allowed either to march away
with arms and baggage, or else to go abroad and enter the service
of any government at peace with England. Before the war was over he
had rid the country, on these terms, of some 45,000 soldiers. Taking
advantage of the divisions of his enemies, he persuaded several
garrisons of English soldiers to desert the cause of Charles Stuart for
the Commonwealth. His conduct of the war was so successful that, during
the nine months of his stay in Ireland, the forces of the Royalists
were shattered, and the provinces of Leinster and Munster recovered for
the Parliament. Cromwell returned to England in May 1650, leaving his
son-in-law Ireton to complete the conquest of the country. The last
garrisons in Ulster and Munster surrendered during the course of the
ensuing summer and autumn. Ireton crossed the Shannon and drove the
Irish back into the bogs and mountain fastnesses of Connaught, their
last refuge, where fighting still continued for two years after all the
rest of the country had been reduced (1651-2).
%PARTIES IN SCOTLAND.%
Cromwell had hastened from Ireland because a pressing danger now
threatened England from Scotland. The Scots were divided into three
parties--first, the Strict Covenanters, followers of Argyle, who had
been placed in power by Cromwell after the defeat of Hamilton in
Lancashire (1648); secondly, the Lax Covenanters, or Engagers, who had
taken part in Hamilton’s invasion; thirdly, the old Royalists, headed
by the Marquis of Montrose. Though the Strict Covenanters declined
to fight for a king who refused the Covenant, they grew indignant
at seeing Republicans and Sectarians triumph over Presbyterians in
England; and, having hopes that the son would be less recalcitrant
than the father, sent deputies to the Hague to offer Charles the crown
of Scotland, on condition of his taking the Covenant, and promising
to rule by the advice of Parliament and Kirk. At the time this treaty
was being negotiated, Montrose was defeated and taken prisoner by the
Covenanters. Charles, though he had given him a full commission, yet,
not wishing to break off the treaty, basely disowned the earl, and
caused word to be sent to Argyle that he felt no sorrow for the defeat
of the man who had drawn the sword “contrary to the royal command.”
The outrages of Montrose’s savage levies were long remembered in the
Lowlands, and the Covenanters, in revenge, now determined to execute
him with all the circumstances of shame they could devise. He was
sentenced to be hung on a gibbet, thirty feet high, in the Grassmarket
in Edinburgh, the place of execution for the lowest felons, his body
quartered, and his limbs fixed on the gates of four towns in Scotland.
Montrose, by the calmness and dignity of his bearing, cast back the
scorn and the shame into the faces of his enemies. He had always
loved to play the hero, and never had such a scene been offered him
before. He walked calmly to the place of execution with a “grand air,”
magnificently dressed, as if he had been going to wait upon the king.
His country honoured him in his death more than in his life (May 21st).
The Republican statesmen were aware that, if Charles Stuart reigned in
Scotland, English and Scotch Presbyterians would unite in an attempt to
place him upon the throne of England. They determined, therefore, to
ward off the danger by being the first in the field. Fairfax, however,
refused to command. The Republicans knew that the only man able to take
his place was Cromwell. Cromwell’s power they feared already, but it
was in vain they begged and implored Fairfax to go; in vain Cromwell
himself entreated him, which he did so earnestly that none could doubt
his sincerity; in vain it was urged upon him that the Scots had already
broken the Covenant by one invasion under Hamilton, and were now,
without doubt, intending a second. Fairfax, however, refusing to march
against the Scots unless they first actually entered England, resigned
his command to the Commons, who appointed Cromwell commander-in-chief
of the whole army in his stead (June 26th).
%SCOTCH CAMPAIGN.%
When Cromwell, at the head of 16,000 men, crossed the border (July
22nd), he found silence and desolation around him. The country people,
frightened at horrible tales spread about of cruelties practised by the
Sectarian soldiers, had obeyed the orders of the Scotch Parliament and
fled for refuge to the towns, leaving behind them only a few women, who
baked and brewed for the invaders. When Cromwell arrived at Musselburgh
he found the Scotch army of 24,000 men occupying a long line of
entrenchments, running from Leith to the hills called Salisbury Crags
and Arthur’s Seat, which lie to the east of Edinburgh Old Town. David
Leslie, the Scotch general, had taken up this unassailable position
with the intention of starving the English out of the country. His own
army was amply supplied with provisions from all the north of Scotland
lying at his back; while, the eastern Lowlands having been purposely
laid waste, his enemies were entirely dependent for their supplies upon
a fleet which had followed them from England.
Cromwell marched and countermarched, in hopes of drawing Leslie out
of his fastness and bringing on a general engagement. But his efforts
were in vain. As autumn approached the difficulties of the situation
increased. The weather was wet and stormy, the soldiers fell sick, and
the ocean was so rough that provisions were landed with difficulty. A
council of war agreed to retreat to Dunbar, a town on the sea-coast,
lying between Edinburgh and Berwick, which might, at the worst, be
fortified, and afford some quarters for the winter (Aug. 31st).
Accordingly the “poor, shattered, hungry, discouraged army” first
shipped 500 sick men for Berwick, and then marched from Musselburgh
through Haddingtonshire to Dunbar (Aug. 31st). Leslie, who mistakenly
supposed that his enemies had put on board their great guns and a large
number of troops, followed closely in pursuit, with the intention of
putting himself between them and their communications with England.
Having succeeded in passing them, he thus made it impossible for them
to continue their retreat without cutting their way through his army,
which now faced about to front them. They were cooped up between
Belhaven Bay and the mouth of the Broxburn, on a strip of coast not
above two miles long. Behind there was no shelter but the little
fishing town of Dunbar. Immediately in front of this, barely a mile
off, was Doon Hill, rising like a hog’s back to a height of more than
500 feet, and forming the northern extremity of the dreary and boggy
Lammermoor range. Upon the long level summit of this hill was stationed
the Scots’ army, commanding from its vantage ground the surrounding
lowland country, and ready to seize any opportune moment to descend and
annihilate the smaller force beneath it. In order the more completely
to close the road to Berwick, Leslie’s right wing of horse descended
and occupied the undulating but comparatively level ground spreading
between the foot of Doon Hill and the sea-coast. South of Doon Hill,
the Lammermoors gradually approach closer and closer to the sea, until,
at Copperspath, some eight or nine miles south of Dunbar, the road to
Berwick runs through a narrow pass, “where ten men to hinder are better
than forty to make their way,” which was itself already held by the
enemy.
To return westwards to Musselburgh was worse than useless. An attempt
to escape in their ships was full of danger, as they would be open
to attack from the Scots in their rear while embarking. To advance
was destruction, as long as Leslie commanded the road to Berwick. To
fight was impossible, so long as he remained upon the top of Doon
Hill. Oliver prepared for the worst, but did not despair. He wrote
to Haslerig, then governor of Newcastle, telling him to collect what
forces he could, for the army was so blocked up he could not get out
without “almost a miracle,” and his soldiers were falling sick “beyond
imagination.” Neither did Oliver’s men despair, to judge from the
spirit of a musketeer with a wooden arm, who was taken prisoner in a
skirmish. When asked by Leslie “if the army intended to fight,” he
replied, “What else do you think we came here for?” “Soldier, how will
you fight when you have shipped half your men and all your great guns?”
“Sir, if you please to draw down your men to the foot of the hill, you
will find both men and great guns also.” Leslie sent him back again
free.
%DUNBAR FIELD.%
The Broxburn is a small stream which divides the foot of Doon Hill from
the base of the little promontory upon which stands Dunbar. It flows
in a glen with steep grassy banks between forty and fifty feet high,
and as many apart. The easiest passage across is at a point about a
mile from the sea-coast, near the Duke of Roxburgh’s seat, Broxmouth
House, where the sides of the glen slope gently down to the water, and
the high road to Berwick now crosses by a bridge. Oliver, about four
o’clock on Monday afternoon (Sept. 2nd), was walking in the garden
of Broxmouth House and watching the movements of the enemy upon Doon
Hill, when he perceived that Leslie was actually bringing his whole
army down below the steep part of the hill-side, strengthening his
right wing, opposite the duke’s house, with two-thirds of the cavalry
from his left, and posting his infantry in the cornfields which sloped
gently down to the Broxburn. What did this movement mean? Cromwell
divined at once. Leslie’s purpose was to seize the easy passage over
the brook near Broxmouth House by a surprise, and then bring his forces
over and fight at pleasure. Cromwell saw that, by attacking first, he
might seize the passage, outflank Leslie’s right wing, and drive it
back upon the main body, and thus rout the whole army while hemmed up
in that narrow space between the steep of Doon Hill and Broxburn glen.
He suggested the plan to Lambert, who said he had meant to say the same
thing, and the action was agreed upon for the morrow.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF DUNBAR 3^{rd} Sept 1650.]
%BATTLE OF DUNBAR.%
It was the Presbyterian Committee who had persuaded Leslie to abandon
his masterly inactivity on the hill-top. They thought it a mistake
to adopt a policy which would let the Sectarians surrender, and thus
escape utter destruction. Moreover, while the English were provided
with tents, Leslie’s own men were absolutely without shelter, exposed
to all the furies of wind and weather. Leslie himself, as his forces
numbered 22,000 men, while those of Cromwell, supposing all the men had
been in fighting condition, were not above 12,000, had no doubt of the
event, and gave out in his camp that, by seven o’clock on the Tuesday,
“they would have the army of the enemy dead or alive.”
A misty morning followed a wet and tempestuous night. By four o’clock
Cromwell had already set his troops in motion. Large bodies of horse
and foot were massed opposite the Scots’ right wing, while, for a
mile along the bank of the Broxburn, great guns were stationed, and
regiments of foot drawn up, in readiness to assault Leslie’s main
battle, now lying in the stubble of the reaped cornfields opposite. At
six o’clock the trumpets sounded, the cannon fired all up the line,
and the soldiers charged, shouting their word of battle, “The Lord of
hosts--the Lord of hosts!” The Scots’ foot were hardly well awake,
and had let their matches, then ropes of tow, nearly all out, so that
they could not so much as return the fire that assailed them from the
opposite side of the glen. Only at the passage, where the road to
Berwick then went through the Broxburn, was the struggle fierce. For
here the Scotch horse, themselves preparing for a surprise, returned
the charge with spirit, and forced their enemies back over brook and
hollow. Few, however, were their moments of triumph. Cromwell’s own
regiment of foot, coming up to battle, drove them back in turn at push
of pike; two foot regiments, which had crossed the glen below Broxmouth
House, took their wing in flank; the English horse, charging a second
time, broke through horse and foot. Leslie’s whole wing then turned
and fled right back upon his own main battle, disordering the whole
line, and trampling their friends to death beneath their horses’ feet.
For nearly an hour the whole scene was enveloped in mist; when at last
the fog broke and the sun shone out upon the sea, Oliver shouted aloud
the battle cry of Israel, “Now let God arise and scatter His enemies!”
and, as the fog was more and more dispersed, and the battle-field more
clearly revealed, he cried again, “I profess they run!” and there
“was the Scots’ army all in confusion and running, both right wing
and left and main battle.” In all directions they fled--some back
towards Copperspath, some in mad panic northwards across the Broxburn
to Dunbar itself, but the mass of the fugitives, horse and foot, along
the skirts of Doon Hill westwards towards Haddington. Thus within one
short hour the situation of the two armies was more than reversed. The
English were victorious; destruction surrounded the Scotch. Before
joining the chase, the general and those about him halted and sang
Psalm cxvii.:--“O praise the Lord, all ye nations; praise him, all ye
people. For His merciful kindness is great towards us, and the truth of
the Lord endureth for ever. Praise ye the Lord.” Such was the battle,
or rather the rout of Dunbar. Upon the place, or near about it, 3000
men were killed or trampled to death; the chase was pursued for nearly
eight miles; 10,000 prisoners were taken; the whole of the Scottish
baggage and artillery fell into the hands of the conquerors (Sept. 3rd,
1650). Cromwell in his turn advanced; the town of Edinburgh opened its
gates, and he laid siege to the castle.
After the defeat of the army of Strict Covenanters at Dunbar, the
middle party obtained greater influence in the State. The members of
this party were called Engagers, from their having entered into that
‘Engagement’ to free the king, which led to Hamilton’s invasion in
1648. The Parliament met at Perth, and voted that not only Engagers,
but Royalists, who submitted to public penance, should be allowed to
serve in the army. Charles himself was crowned king at Scone (Jan.
1st), and made commander-in-chief of the army, which by the spring was
again raised to a force of 20,000 men. Many Covenanters, however, could
not hide from themselves the truth of reproaches cast upon them by
Cromwell, that Charles hated the Covenant and sacrificed his conscience
for love of a crown. The officers of a new army, raised during the
autumn in the western Lowland counties, had presented a remonstrance,
refused to fight for the king, and finally joined the invaders. The
governor of Edinburgh Castle had shared the views of the remonstrants,
and opened its gates to Cromwell (Dec. 19th, 1650).
%CHARLES INVADES ENGLAND.%
Leslie and Charles, adopting the strategy of the former year, took
up a strong position near Stirling, where they could not readily be
attacked. Cromwell determined to starve them out. He crossed his army
over the Firth of Forth at Queensferry, dispersed the force sent to
oppose his landing, and thus gained possession of Fife, and shut
Charles off from all the north of Scotland. Perth, the seat of the
Scottish government, itself surrendered. Charles, finding his supplies
cut off, and the road to England open, played the desperate game which
Cromwell seems almost to have designed for him. Suddenly breaking up
his camp (July 31st), and getting three days’ start of the enemy, he
marched straight into England, becoming in his turn the invader. He
bent his course towards Gloucestershire, hoping that the people in
the west would rise in his favour, and increase the size of his army
before he turned upon London. But his friends were unprepared. Only
a few partial risings took place, and, when the royal standard was
raised at Worcester, his army barely numbered 16,000 men (Aug. 22nd).
The Republicans despatched the militia, and every force that could be
raised, to check his progress. Cromwell himself, having left 5000 men
under General Monk, to complete the conquest of Scotland, followed fast
in pursuit, and having effected a junction with the other Republican
forces, found himself by the time he reached Worcester, in command of a
force of 30,000 men (Aug. 28th).
The city of Worcester, which stands on the eastern bank of the Severn,
was then, as now, connected by a bridge with its western suburb of St.
John’s. The surrounding country, on either side of the Severn, was
cultivated, and the numerous fields, lanes, and ditches rendered it
all unsuited for cavalry fighting. West of the Severn a fruitful plain
stretches away uninterruptedly as far as the Malvern Hills; but on the
eastern side of the river the country is broken, and, at the distance
of about a mile from the city, Red Hill, crowned by the Perry Woods,
bounds the view. Around and within city and suburb Charles entrenched
his army. On a small but abruptly rising eminence, which looks down
on Worcester from the south-east, the Scots planted guns and raised
an entrenchment, which they called Fort Royal. A bridge at Upton,
some miles below Worcester, was broken down, to secure the suburb of
St. John’s from attack, by preventing the enemy from crossing to the
Severn’s western bank. The work, however, was not thoroughly done.
Some of Lambert’s soldiers straddled across a parapet left standing,
and, after a fierce struggle, drove the Royalists out of Upton, and
repaired and maintained the bridge. The next day, the 29th of August,
Cromwell, advancing from Pershore and Whiteladies Ashton, occupied
Red Hill and the Perry Woods with the main body of his army. On the
2nd of September, Fleetwood took over the repaired bridge at Upton a
formidable force of 10,000 men. Several difficulties, however, remained
to be overcome before he could approach St. John’s, for the Royalists
held the only bridge over the Teme at Powick, and had placed a strong
detachment of troops in the village before it. To ensure a close
communication with the other forces, from which he was now separated by
the Severn, Fleetwood brought boats up from Upton and Gloucester, and
made a bridge of them over the Severn. He then made a second bridge,
within pistol-shot of the other, over the Teme, to be ready for use
in case his troops could not force the Powick Bridge. Fleetwood began
his march from Upton at five o’clock in the morning, but the bridges
were not completed until about three in the afternoon. A furious
assault was then made upon the Royalists’ advanced guard at Powick,
and, after a hard struggle, Fleetwood’s soldiers succeeded in driving
them from their position, and forcing a passage over the Teme. This
success, however, was but momentary. On seeing the confusion of their
friends, large bodies of horse and foot poured out from St. John’s,
and, charging furiously, forced the Parliamentarians back again upon
the Teme. At this critical moment Cromwell brought several regiments of
horse and foot across by the bridge of boats over the Severn. A body of
Highlanders gallantly but vainly threw themselves in the way of their
advance. Cromwell “led the van in person, being the first man that set
foot on the enemy’s ground.” He effected a junction with Fleetwood’s
forces, and once for all turned the tide of battle on this side the
river. “We beat the enemy,” he says, “from hedge to hedge till we beat
him into Worcester.”
[Illustration: BATTLE OF WORCESTER 3^{rd} Sept^r. 1651.]
%BATTLE OF WORCESTER.%
Charles, with his principal officers, was watching the operations from
the tower of Worcester Cathedral. On seeing regiment after regiment
of Parliamentarians stream across the bridge of boats to the western
side of the Severn, he determined to assail the position of the forces
still remaining on Red Hill. From the number of the enclosures which
cut up the ground, the action was mainly confined to the infantry. The
Royalists charged out of Sudbury Gate with even more than their usual
gallantry, but could not succeed in breaking two of Cromwell’s foot
regiments, who bore the brunt of the shock. Before they had found time
for a second charge, Oliver, with several regiments, had re-crossed the
bridge of boats. He now charged himself, at the head of his veterans,
and the fiercest struggle of all came on. The Highlanders, when their
powder was spent, rather than retreat, fought with the butt-ends of
their muskets; the artillery from Fort Royal played upon the ranks of
the Parliamentarians; the king led his troops on in person again and
again. Cromwell saw the position of the Royalists was really untenable;
he “did exceedingly hazard himself, riding up and down in the midst of
the fire; riding himself in person to the enemy’s foot to offer them
quarter, whereto they returned no answer but shot.” In spite of the
courage displayed by Charles and his troops, the battle necessarily
ended in their complete discomfiture. Closely pursued by Cromwell,
they were forced back into the city, where the bloody struggle was
continued in the streets. About seven o’clock Fort Royal itself was
stormed, and the guns turned upon Worcester. On the south-east side of
the city, by Sudbury Gate, and on the west side, over Severn Bridge,
the Parliamentarians pressed in at the same time. Charles, in despair,
rode up and down the streets, now calling on the foot soldiers, who
were throwing away their arms, to stand again; now imploring the horse
to charge once more, crying that he would rather they should shoot him
than let him outlive that fatal day. But his words were spent in vain;
his troops were being pressed back to the north end of the town; the
streets were becoming strewn with the dead bodies of men and horses; at
last, to avoid falling into the hands of his enemies, he was obliged to
fly hard out of the city’s northern gate.[180]
%ESCAPE OF CHARLES.%
Leslie himself was taken prisoner, but while prisoners of note, both
Scotch and English noblemen, were captured daily, the Commonwealth’s
troops, though they scoured the country up and down, failed to light
upon the greatest prize of all. Riding north from Worcester the night
after the battle, Charles, early the next morning, reached Whiteladies,
a house belonging to a Royalist gentleman. Here he changed his clothes
for a peasant’s dress; a coarse linen shirt, a pair of old green
breeches, a coat of green, his own stockings with their embroidered
tops cut off, and a pair of clumsy shoes, formed his apparel. His
face and hands were dyed brown with walnuts. Richard Penderell, one
of five brothers, tenants on the estate, clipped off the fugitive’s
long locks, and took him to a neighbouring wood for concealment. They
had only left Whiteladies half an hour, when soldiers in pursuit came
and searched the house. It was wet and cold in the wood, and Penderell
sent his sister, Joan Yates, to the king with a blanket and a mess of
milk, butter, and eggs. Charles started when she came. “Good woman,”
he said, “can you be faithful to a distressed Cavalier?” “Yes, sir,”
she replied; “I would rather die than betray you.” At nightfall Charles
left his retreat, hoping to get across the Severn and escape into
Wales; but the bridges being all guarded, and no boat obtainable, he
was obliged to retrace his steps to Whiteladies, where he spent a day,
in company with a Cavalier, Captain Careless, in an oak, the thick
foliage of which concealed the two fugitives from the sight of passers
by. William Penderell and his wife gathered sticks near at hand, ready
to give warning of danger, for occasionally soldiers came along the
path near the tree, and looked about the surrounding woods and meadows.
After running many risks of discovery, Charles made his way through
the country to the south coast, and, sailing from Brighton, was landed
in safety at Fécamp, in Normandy (Oct. 16th). His escape spoke much
for the good faith and loyalty of the English people. He had been a
wanderer for forty-four days, and at the mercy of forty-five persons
at least whose names are known--peasants, servants, gentlemen, women,
Protestants, Catholics--of whom none were prevailed upon to betray
him either by fear or greed; and this though the House of Commons had
declared all his harbourers traitors, and offered a reward of £1000 for
his discovery.
%FOREIGN AFFAIRS.%
During the two troubled years in which Cromwell was reducing Ireland
and Scotland, the Council of State had not neglected foreign affairs.
Milton had been appointed their Secretary for Foreign Tongues (March
13th, 1649), and with Blake, Popham, and Dean for their admirals, they
were engaged in strengthening the navy and raising England’s power by
sea. Prince Rupert, driven from the Channel and from Ireland, fled for
refuge to the Tagus. Blake pursued him with eighteen ships of war,
blocked up the mouth of the river, and inflicted so much damage on
Portuguese merchants by seizing vessels coming home from the Indies,
that the King of Portugal gave the prince orders to quit the coast
(1650). Rupert sailed first to the Mediterranean, but when most of
his vessels were destroyed by Blake he made with the remaining three
for the West Indies, where being still pursued, wherever he went, by
the Commonwealth’s fleets, he at last gave over his pirate’s calling,
and sold his vessels to the King of France (March, 1652). His brother
Maurice, who accompanied him, had been lost in a storm. By the end of
the year 1652 there was hardly a corner of the British dominions that
dared any longer openly support the cause of Charles. Guernsey was the
last to give in, but Jersey, the Scilly Isles, and the colonies planted
on the North American coast and in the West India Islands had all been
visited by the Republican admirals, and had consented to recognize the
authority of the Commonwealth.
After the victory of Worcester, foreign princes hastened to make
friends of men who might prove formidable enemies, and no longer
hesitated to recognize the Republic as the lawful government of
England. Tuscany, Venice, Geneva, the Swiss cantons, the Hanseatic
towns, German princes, sent and received agents; Sweden, Denmark,
and Portugal sent extraordinary ambassadors. A Spanish ambassador,
as early as December, 1650, received audience of the Commons. The
aspirations of the Republican statesmen, Vane, Bradshaw, Martin, and
their companions, rose with success. To foreigners they seemed “filled
with pride,” and vast schemes of advancing England’s power and commerce
were believed to float before their minds. “They intend,” writes a
foreigner, “to destroy the trade of Holland and usurp it to themselves.
The Dutch must serve on board their fleet, and all the shipwrights,
sailmakers, and ropemakers will be obliged to go and earn their living
in England. Then they will turn their arms against Denmark, and will
oblige Norway to sell their wood to no other nation than England. They
will send their fleets against Spain and Lisbon to destroy their trade
with the East Indies, and usurp the trade of all the European nations.
All the earth must submit to them, work for nobody but them, and they
will, from time to time, come into their ports and sweep away all their
treasure. All commodities will be worked up in England, so that the
best artificers will flock thither; and, if they will have any fine
linen or good cloth to wear in another country, the flax and wool must
be sent to be manufactured in England.”[181]
%PORTUGAL--FRANCE.%
When the King of Portugal sought a treaty, the Republicans demanded a
very large sum as indemnity for the expenses England had incurred in
fitting out the fleet against Rupert. The ambassador, on hesitating
to agree to such terms, was peremptorily ordered to quit the country
(May, 1651). Louis XIV. had allowed French vessels to join with those
of Rupert in seizing English merchantmen. The Republicans were now in
possession of the more powerful navy, and retaliated severely on the
French for their former ill-will. There was no means by which Louis
could come to more friendly relations but by sending an ambassador to
England and making a treaty. But, though eager for England’s support
or, at least, neutrality in the war in which he was now engaged with
Spain, his pride forbade him to recognize as lawful rulers the men who
had driven his young cousin into exile, and put his uncle to death
on the scaffold. The French merchants, in despair at the injuries
inflicted on their commerce, asked permission of the English Parliament
to send an agent to London to treat privately. “I cannot,” replied the
Secretary of the Council of State, “procure for you a safe conduct to
come in the capacity you propose. But, if the French Government will
consider the wrongs by it committed, and will save us the necessity
of seeking justice for ourselves, and treat with the Republic in the
forms usual between sovereign states, I have no doubt that this State
will be willing to entertain any honest and just propositions for
the settlement of differences”[182] (Dec., 1650). Meantime Louis’
delay not only affected the interest of merchants, but threatened the
success of his own military expeditions. Agents from the revolted city
of Bordeaux appeared in London, soliciting aid of the Republicans,
and offering in return to place England in possession of a port it
could secure for them on the west coast of France. The English fleet
did not hesitate to seize some French vessels carrying provisions for
the relief of Dunkirk, at the time besieged by the Netherlanders. The
town, in consequence, was forced to surrender (Sept.); and, when the
French government complained of the conduct of the English fleet, the
Republicans replied that the act was merely a reprisal for damages
inflicted on English merchants by French vessels in the Mediterranean.
Thus pressed, Louis at last consented to send an ambassador to England,
and formally recognized the Republican government (Dec.)
%FOREIGN RELATIONS.%
Though the Republicans, by the energy of their government, caused
England to be feared and respected, yet their foreign policy was
not marked by any true insight into the relations of states at the
time. France, though a Catholic country, was no deadly enemy of
Protestantism or of progress; the governments of Spain and Austria
were distinguished for their fanatical and reactionary spirit. The
Republicans, however, showed themselves inclined to support Spain
against France, and now entered into a disastrous war with Holland,
the enemy of Spain, a Protestant country, and their own natural ally.
This war was, partly, the result of commercial jealousy. The aspiring
spirit of the Republicans caused them to make unjust and unreasonable
demands as the price of their friendship with the sister republic. We
have before had occasion to notice the commercial rivalries existing
between the English and the Dutch, the cruel murders perpetrated in the
East Indies, and the consequent depression of English trade.[183] The
unfriendly feeling thus produced became still more pronounced after
the execution of the king and the establishment of the Republic. The
Dutch were afraid that England, now that it had a government like their
own, would also turn its attention to commerce, and, by the superior
size and resources of the country, eclipse the smaller luminary at its
side.
%HOLLAND.%
On the other hand the Republicans had been so successful in founding
and maintaining their new form of government, that now no designs
seemed too bold for accomplishment. At first, trying fair means
to prevent the Dutch from acting as their rivals on the sea and
the destroyers of their commerce, they had sent two extraordinary
ambassadors, Strickland and St. John, to Holland, offering the
renewal of a former treaty of 1495, and proposing further that the
two countries should unite in a kind of confederacy and have the
same friends and enemies (Jan., 1651). The States of Holland, in
place of a confederacy, proposed terms of their own for an alliance.
Dutch statesmen foresaw that if England and Holland were confederated
together, their country being the smaller and less powerful, would
practically lose its independence, and in its foreign relations be
forced to act in the interest of England. The negotiations were broken
off, and the English ambassadors recalled (June, 1651). “My lords,”
said St. John to the States commissioners upon taking his leave, “you
have your eye upon the issue of the affairs of the King of Scotland,
and therefore have despised the friendship we proffered you; I will
assure you that many in the Parliament were of opinion that we ought
not to have come hither, or to have sent ambassadors till we had first
overcome our difficulties, and seen an ambassador from you. I now see
my fault, and perceive very well that those members of Parliament
judged right. You will in a little time see our affairs against the
King of Scotland despatched, and then you will by your ambassadors
come and desire what we now so cordially come to proffer. But assure
yourselves, you will then repent you have rejected our kindness.”[184]
After the battle of Worcester (3rd Sept., 1651), the victorious
Republicans passed the Navigation Act, the heading of which briefly
expressed its contents: “Goods from foreign parts; by whom to be
imported.” First, with a few exceptions named, it forbade any goods to
be imported into England from Asia, Africa, or America, excepting in
English ships, or in ships belonging to the English colonies; secondly,
it forbade the produce or manufacture of any country in Europe, to be
imported into England, except in English ships, or in ships of the
country in which the goods were produced (9th Oct., 1651). The framers
of this law had two ends in view. The first, to transfer part of the
carrying trade[185] of the Dutch to Englishmen; the second, to increase
the strength of the English navy. The first end was contrary to the
principles of free trade. If the Dutch could import foreign goods
into England cheaper than English merchants, the English consumer was
benefited by the trade being in their hands, and a saving of labour was
made. The second end, however, that of national defence, may, perhaps,
then have partly justified the law. English merchants were practically
compelled to build vessels in order to import the goods formerly
imported by the Dutch; and from the merchant marine came the sailors,
and often the ships, that guarded the coasts and caused foreigners to
hesitate before insulting the English government. The usage English
traders had experienced in the East Indies from the Dutch, in the
West Indies from the Spaniards, had proved the necessity of England’s
possessing a powerful navy, if she was either to extend her trade or
protect her colonies.
%WAR WITH THE DUTCH.%
The Dutch sent ambassadors to resume the negotiations, and obtain the
repeal of the new law, but so unfriendly was the feeling existing
between the two nations, that while the ambassadors were still in the
country, the English and Dutch admirals, Blake and Van Tromp, engaged
with their fleets in the Downs (19th May). Each admiral accused the
other of having been the aggressor, and war with Holland was now
declared (19th July.) Blake sailed to the eastern coast of Scotland,
where he surprised 600 Dutch fishing vessels, and exacted from them
the tribute of the tenth herring. Meanwhile Van Tromp was prevented
by a contrary wind from approaching a small fleet of fifteen vessels,
left in the channel under the command of Ayscue to guard the English
coasts. He sailed north in search of Blake, but while in the German
Ocean a violent storm so damaged his fleet, that he returned to Holland
with his vessels reduced to a third of their former number. The Dutch,
who thought themselves better sailors than the English, were deeply
mortified at their misfortunes, which they ascribed to the “witch-wind”
that prevented their admiral from attacking Ayscue. Nor were the
English satisfied with such fortuitous successes. They remarked that
the country had run great hazards during the summer, from which it had
escaped rather by fortune of wind and weather than by the providence of
committee or admiral. The committee of council which was at the head
of the Admiralty, was, in the opinion of many, too large a body to
conduct the affairs of the navy with the skill and expedition required
in time of war. The council was now informed that “they were letting
slip many fair opportunities, and were like to play a very dangerous
after-game, for the Dutch were preparing a great fleet, and would pass
through the channel to convoy their merchantmen, when the best of the
English ships would be called in for want of victuals.”[186] These
fears proved not unfounded. Some of Blake’s ships were under repair,
while twenty others had been despatched to the Mediterranean, when Van
Tromp, with 95 vessels, passed down the channel. Though Blake had only
37, he preferred fighting to retreating down the channel, and thus
leaving the coast towns unguarded. An engagement took place off Dover,
which lasted from eleven in the morning until dark. Although the fleets
were so unequal in numbers, Blake under cover of the night, succeeded
in reaching the Thames in safety with the larger part of his damaged
fleet. Two vessels fell into the hands of the Dutch, the “Garland”
and one other merchantman, which, when the rest made off, were left
fighting ‘board and board’ with Van Tromp’s own flagship (29th Nov.).
On news of this defeat great discouragement prevailed amongst the
seamen, great fear amongst the people. General Monk was associated
with Blake and Dean in command of the fleet, and four or five special
commissioners of the Admiralty were appointed, with Vane at their head.
Vane’s name itself was sufficient to serve as a guarantee for an honest
administration. The commissioners made every effort to repair the
fleet and place it in a flourishing condition. “They sent letters to
all vice-admirals and mayors of sea towns to stir up seamen to engage
in the service. The best and ablest commanders that could be heard
of were invited to the service and entertained, if they were men of
courage and civil conversation, and keeping good order in their ships.
No fee or gratuity was suffered to be given or taken by any man for
their places. The seamen were well paid; the wives and children of the
slain were provided for; pensions were given to the wounded. Inquiry
made after misdemeanours in officers, and of embezzlements of stores
and prize goods, and such officers were removed whose actions appeared
to be ill. The commissioners sat daily at Whitehall, both early and
late, and were private in their debates.”[187] Early in the spring Van
Tromp, convoying on their return voyage up the channel more than 200
laden merchantmen, fell in with the English admirals off Portland Isle.
On three successive days the two fleets, each of 80 or 90 sail, were
engaged. The battle, begun off Portland Isle, extended to the coast of
Holland. The Dutch were entirely defeated, and compelled to seek refuge
in the shallow waters of the Texel, whither the English vessels, which
drew more water than theirs, were unable to pursue. In this defeat the
Dutch lost eleven men-of-war and thirty merchantmen (18, 19, 20 Feb.,
1653).
FOOTNOTES:
[174] Whitelock, Mem. 417.
[175] Guizot, Hist. de la Répub. d’Angleterre, i. 28.
[176] P. 233.
[177] Whitelock, 464, 398, 421, 443; Carlyle, i. 345.
[178] Dr. Lingard gives credit to the story of Cromwell’s massacre of
townspeople--men, women, and children--but the only direct testimony
is a story told by Thomas Wood (the brother of Anthony Wood, the
historiographer of Oxford). This Thomas Wood had fought on the
king’s side, and after the king’s death, “being deeply engaged in a
Cavaliering plot in 1648, he, to avoid being taken and hanged, fled
to Ireland,” where, according to his brother’s account, he got a
command in the regiment of Ingoldsby, an old schoolfellow, and then a
Parliamentary officer; and thus, having changed sides, “was engaged in
the storming and assaulting” of Drogheda. He tells a tale, in Spenser’s
manner, of a “most handsome virgin, arrayed in costly and gorgeous
apparel,” whom a soldier treated as though he were Phineas and she a
Midianitish woman; whereupon Wood, “seeing her gasping, took away her
money, jewels, &c., and flung her clean over the works.” His brother
says “he had an art of merriment called buffooning,” and he seems to
have practised this on “his mother and brethren,” to whom he often
told this story. Ormond, writing from the neighbourhood, and speaking
generally of great cruelty having been exercised for five days after
the town was taken, makes no mention of a massacre of townspeople.
The Catholic Council of Kilkenny, in the manifesto they published at
Clonmacnoise at this time, make no mention of a massacre of townspeople
at Drogheda, and even think it necessary to warn the Irish against
being deceived by a show of clemency. It is in his answer to this
manifesto that Cromwell makes the statement quoted in the text. Ormond
Papers, ii. 412; Lingard, viii. Appendix.
[179] See p. 104.
[180] Cromwelliana; Carlyle; Boscobel Tracts; Personal Expenses of
Charles II. in City of Worcester, communicated to the Transactions of
the Historical Society by R. Woof.
[181] Sorbière to M. de Courcelles at Amsterdam, 1st July, 1652, in
Harris, Life of Cromwell, 270.
[182] Guizot, i. 448.
[183] See p. 253.
[184] De Witt, Interest of Holland, 393.
[185] See p. 252.
[186] Colonel Thompson’s Notes upon the Dutch War in Bodleian MSS.
[187] Colonel Thompson’s Notes.