THE LAST TWO YEARS OF THE PROTECTORATE.--1656-1658.
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,
To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough’d;
And on the neck of crownèd fortune proud
Hast reared God’s trophies, and his work pursued,
While Darwin[223] stream, with blood of Scots imbrued,
And Dunbar’s field, resounds thy praises loud,
And Worcester’s laureate wreath. Yet much remains
To conquer still; peace hath her victories
No less renowned than war; new foes arise,
Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains:
Help us to save free conscience from the paw
Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw.
MILTON.
During the year and a half that Cromwell ruled arbitrarily, his
government took root, for whatever its faults, it at least assured
to the country the blessings of order and peace. Royalists and
Presbyterians either sullenly acquiesced in the change of dynasty, or
at least deferred their hopes of restoring Charles Stuart, till after
the death of the present protector. As soon as the need of arbitrary
government was past, Cromwell wished his use of it to pass too. “When
matters of necessity come,” he had said to his Parliament, “then
without guilt extraordinary remedies may be applied, but if necessity
be pretended there is so much the more sin.” He determined to meet a
Parliament that should restore the government to a nearer approach to
its old form, and confer upon himself the title of king. To secure
this result he would have to stretch his prerogative once more to oust
the Republican opposition, but after this the legitimate career he
longed for might be open to him. The Instrument of Government, which
had been drawn up merely by a council of officers, an unconstitutional
authority, wanted a legal sanction, and in place of lasting settlement,
only opened to the view of the nation a dreary vista of military
rulers, elected by the will of the army. The title of protector was
strange and unacceptable to the people generally, nor did it conciliate
the Republicans, who called a protector
‘A stately thing,
That confesseth itself but the ape of a king.’[224]
%CROMWELL’S SECOND PARLIAMENT.%
Timid and time-serving supporters of Cromwell’s government remembered
that by a statute of Henry VII., all persons adhering to the king _de
facto_ were pronounced guiltless of treason. The protector, therefore,
by receiving from a Parliament the title of king, might hope to calm
the fears of many of his friends, to gratify the monarchical prejudices
of the people, and even to establish a constitutional monarchy in
England under kings of his own house. To ensure meeting an assembly
favourable to his interests, he did not hesitate to resort to an
arbitrary stretch of power. The Instrument of Government authorized the
protector and council to make a scrutiny of the returns of elections,
and examine whether persons returned were qualified to sit. This
clause was intended as a precaution against the admission of any that
had borne arms against the Parliament since 1641, and all members of
Cromwell’s first Parliament had accordingly received tickets from the
council, certifying that they were duly returned. Parliament met on
the 17th of December; without any legal ground of exclusion, a hundred
members, Republicans or other opponents of the government, were for
the time refused tickets by the council. When they complained to the
Parliament, Cromwell’s friends carried a vote by 125 to 29, that they
must apply to the council for redress. The residue did not employ
themselves very profitably at first. For the first three months of
its sitting, the Parliament was almost solely engaged in debating
upon the punishment due to James Naylor, the man who had ridden into
Bristol, and was worshipped by his followers as divine. According to
statute law, this fanatic could only have been imprisoned for six
months, and in case of a second offence, banished from the dominions
of the Commonwealth. But the Commons, imitating the refinements of
the Star Chamber, sentenced him to be six times whipped, put twice in
the pillory, have his tongue bored, his forehead branded, and then to
be kept in solitary confinement on short rations. This was dealing
hard measure to one at the worst half fool, half knave, and gave all
liberally or mercifully minded men cause to regret the time when
the House of Commons did not resolve itself into a court of justice
and inflict arbitrary punishment at pleasure. The protector sent a
letter to the House, desiring to be informed of the grounds of its
proceedings.
♦Petition and Advice.♦ The question raised long debates, which
resulted in the drawing up of a new instrument of government, called
the Petition and Advice. Cromwell was to bear the title of king and
to appoint his successor to the throne. New Parliaments were to be
summoned once every three years, and were to be composed as formerly
of two Houses. The Upper House was to consist of not more than 70 or
less than 40 persons, who were to be named by the king. Members of
council and officers of State were to be approved by Parliament. The
chief magistrate was presumably allowed a negative voice on bills, as
no clause was introduced to deprive him of a power hitherto always
exercised by English monarchs. The command of the Army and Navy was to
rest with the chief magistrate, with consent of Parliament. Thus this
new instrument restored the ancient monarchy with some of those checks
which the Long Parliament had sought to impose upon Charles I. The
protector, who intended to govern in accordance with the articles of
the Petition and Advice, encouraged his friends in the Parliament, to
abolish both the office of major-general and the income tax of ten per
cent. upon Royalists. The major-generals, however, to whom arbitrary
government was not so distasteful as to their chief, took offence at
their removal from office, and displayed their ill-will and jealousy by
opposing the Petition and Advice in the Commons’ House, and especially
the first clause, which conferred on the chief magistrate the title of
king. Their motives may have been selfish; they may have disliked to
see their fellow-soldier raised so far above themselves, when before
any might have entertained a hope of succeeding Oliver in the office
of Lord Protector. But the ground they publicly put forward was their
attachment to the Republican ideal. Their feeling was shared by the
army, and a deputation of a hundred officers waited upon the general,
to pray him not to accept the title of king. The protector replied in
words to the following effect: ‘that the title king, a feather in a
hat, is as little valuable to him as to them. But the fact is, they and
he have not succeeded in settling the nation hitherto, by the schemes
they clamoured for. That the nation is tired of major-generalcies, of
uncertain arbitrary ways. That the original instrument of government
does need mending in some points. That a House of Lords, or other check
upon the arbitrary tendencies of a single House of Parliament, may be
of real use; see what they, by their own mere vote and will, I having
no power to check them, have done with James Naylor: may it not be any
one’s case, some other day?’[225] The officers agreed to withdraw their
opposition to the Petition and Advice with the exception of the first
clause. But in the House, councillors, lawyers, and other civilians,
outnumbered the army men, and the insertion of the title was carried by
123 against 62 votes (29th March). Cromwell, however, dared not accept
a crown at the risk of offending the army. After six weeks’ delay,
during which he vainly sought to overcome the prejudices of officers
and soldiers, he informed the Parliament, that though he approved of
all the other articles of the new instrument, he could not undertake
the government with the title of king. Accordingly it was agreed that
while retaining the title of protector, he should exercise the powers
vested in the chief magistrate by the Petition and Advice; and thus
virtually become King of England in all but name (25th May).
%SYNDERCOMB’S PLOT.%
Though the union now existing between Cromwell and his Parliament was
a great discouragement to insurrection, still Royalist exiles, and
fanatical Levellers, continued to conspire against the government.
Their hopes were cheered by a promise of aid from a new quarter. As
soon as the protector’s foreign policy was declared, and there was no
doubt that he would unite with France against Spain, the Spaniards
promised to assist Charles Stuart with a body of 6000 men, as soon
as any English port declared in his favour (April). An invasion had
been planned for the preceding winter (1656-7). But the Royalists and
Presbyterians refused to rise, before Charles had actually landed in
the country; the Spaniards were found readier at promises than at
performance, while Royalist exiles and Levellers, in spite of their
common desire to overthrow the government, were suspicious of one
another’s final intentions. Thus this grand political combination
resulted merely in another attempt at assassination. Syndercomb, an
old quarter-master, was supplied with £1600 from Spain, with which he
engaged the services first of another old soldier, and then of one of
Cromwell’s life-guardsmen. These agreed to fire Whitehall, and kill his
highness in the tumult that would follow. One evening after a public
service, there was left upon the floor of the chapel at Whitehall,
a basket, filled with combustible matter, to which were attached
two pieces of lighted match, intended to serve as a train, which
should fire it about midnight. The sentinel, however, smelling fire,
discovered basket and train, and the guardsman confessed the whole
plot (March, 1657). Syndercomb, who was tried by jury and convicted
of treason, poisoned himself in prison to escape the execution of his
sentence.
♦‘Killing no Murder.’♦ On this the Leveller, Sexby, wrote a pamphlet
entitled ‘Killing no Murder,’ which compared Syndercomb to Brutus, and
justified all attempts to ‘cut off’ the protector (May). The Royalist
exiles approved of the treatise. “It is only,” wrote Hyde, “to show the
lawfulness and conveniency that he be presently killed.”[226]
%FOREIGN POLICY.%
There was, indeed, no hope for the Royalists except in Cromwell’s
death. His government was now believed at home and abroad to be
securely established for his life. His authority had been bestowed upon
him by a Parliament in place of a council of officers. Though he still
bore the title of Lord Protector, he possessed regal power, and was
addressed in the same language and style as those employed to sovereign
princes. He had parted on good terms with his Parliament, which, before
its prorogation on the 26th of June, had granted him supplies of money,
besides the confirmation of the ordinances he had made in council.
Royalists dared not rise. His worst enemies could only shame their own
cause by making vain attempts at assassination. Nor were his triumphs
confined to his home government; abroad, as well, his policy had been
crowned with success, and he had already taught foreigners to court
the friendship and dread the enmity of England. “Your general,” said
Christina, Queen of Sweden, to the English ambassador, “hath done the
greatest things of any man in the world. I have as great a respect and
honour for him as for any man alive, and I pray let him know as much
from me.” Though Cromwell was not regarded by most princes with as much
favour as he was by the daughter of the great Gustavus, they held the
same opinion of his abilities, and dreaded the consequences of his
ambition. Even before the expulsion of the Long Parliament, Louis XIV.
was frightened by a report that the General of the English Commonwealth
intended to land in France at the head of his renowned troops, and
assist the French nobles, then in arms against his government. But
Cromwell, unlike Napoleon, had no aspirations for the glory a mere
soldier might earn by leading on his countrymen to foreign conquest.
In him was nothing of the adventurer. The object of his ambition at
home, was to establish in England a free government in Church and
State; abroad, his single aim was to support the cause of freedom in
Europe, by a coalition of progressive and Protestant States against
the reactionary kingdoms of Spain and Austria. He would have scorned
to rule a people reduced to a slavish condition; he would have scorned
to conquer without some deeper motive than the mere aggrandizement
of himself or his country. Somewhat haughtily he bade the French
ambassador set his master’s fears at rest. “Looking at his hair, which
is white, General Cromwell said, that if he were ten years younger,
there was not a king in Europe whom he could not make to tremble;
and that, as he had a better motive than the late King of Sweden, he
believed himself still capable of doing more for the good of nations
than the other ever did for his own ambition.”[227]
%FRANCE AND SPAIN.%
Europe, no doubt, at this time opened a field for new combinations.
The Thirty Years’ War had been long brought to a close by the Treaty
of Westphalia (Sept., 1648). During the latter years of the war the
religious object of the struggle had dropped out of sight, and the
belligerents were chiefly influenced by political motives. The Swedes
fought to gain a footing on the southern shores of the Baltic. The
French from the first had assisted Protestants against the emperor,
in order to extend their own territories at the expense of Germany.
The Catholic princes of the German empire had become more eager to
maintain their political rights against the increased power of the
emperor, than to eradicate Protestant heresy. By the conditions of the
Treaty of Westphalia, Protestant princes of the empire were to be put
on an equality with Catholic; Protestant subjects of Catholic princes,
Catholic subjects of Protestant princes, were to enjoy any religious
immunities they possessed before the war began; part of the Lower
Palatinate was to be restored to Charles Louis, the brother of Rupert
and Maurice, and eldest son of the unfortunate Elector Palatine, who
married the sister of Charles I. Though the German war was over, the
struggle between France and Spain was continued with great animosity,
each country striving to crush her rival, and become the first power
in Europe. Both Louis XIV. and Philip IV. of Spain were bidding for
the protector’s support. Spain offered the possession of Calais, when
taken from France; France, the possession of Dunkirk when taken from
Spain (1655). Cromwell determined to ally himself with France against
Spain. France, though a Catholic country, did not adopt a Catholic
policy abroad, while at home she tolerated Huguenots, and did not
suffer her progress to be impeded by a blind submission to the Papacy.
With Spain, on the other hand, collision was almost inevitable. For
while she aspired to the leadership of Europe, her principles were in
direct antagonism to all the new ideas, religious or political, that
after a century of strife had at last forced their way into the hearts
and minds of men. With the exclusion of Protestantism she shut all
free life out of her dominions; and the Spaniards were recognized as
the most fanatical nation in Europe, burners of heretics, supporters
of the pope and the Inquisition, the declared enemies of freedom of
conscience. It was in the West Indies that the obstructive policy of
Spain came most into collision with the interests of England. Her kings
based their claims to the possession of two continents on the bull of
Pope Alexander VI., who in 1493 had granted them all lands they should
discover from pole to pole, at the distance of a hundred leagues west
from the Azores and Cape Verd Islands. On the strength of this bull
they held that the discovery of an island gave them the right to the
group, the discovery of a headland the right to a continent. Though
this monstrous claim had quite broken down as far as the North American
continent was concerned, the Spaniards, still recognizing “no peace
beyond the line,” endeavoured to shut all Europeans but themselves out
of any share in the trade or colonization of at least the southern
half of the New World. They had imprisoned and murdered English
traders, and had already exterminated one French and English colony
at St. Kitts (1629), and two English settlements, one at Tortuga
(1637), another at Santa Cruz (1650). Accordingly, when Spain sought
an alliance, the protector required satisfaction for the blood of both
the Republican envoy, Ascham,[228] and other murdered Englishmen;
and demanded liberty of trade to the West Indies, and permission for
English merchants and sailors to use their Bibles in any part of the
Spanish dominions, unmolested by the Inquisition. “But,” said Cromwell,
addressing his second Parliament, “there is not liberty of conscience
to be had; neither is there satisfaction for injuries, nor for blood.
When these two things were desired, the ambassador told us, ‘It was
to ask his master’s two eyes;’ to ask both his eyes, asking _these_
things of him!”[229] Nor was Cromwell’s disdain expressed in words
only. Two large fleets were fitted out by his orders, without any
special purpose being assigned for them. The one sailed under Blake
to the Mediterranean, with instructions to obtain redress from any
nation bordering on that sea, that had committed injuries upon the
English (Oct., 1654). This fleet touched other offenders but left Spain
alone, for the present, as war had not yet been declared. The Duke
of Tuscany paid £60,000 damages. The Dey of Algiers agreed to allow
English captives to be ransomed. “The Algiers men-of-war,” says a
paper of the time,[230] “are become associates with the English; they
take Sallee ships and others that have any English in them, and bring
them to General Blake, who at this very instant rides triumphant in
the Levant.” The Governor of Tunis refused satisfaction. “Here are our
castles,” he said, “do what you can: do you think we fear the show of
your fleet?” Blake replied by shattering the castles with two hours’
bombardment, and then burning nine ships of war in the harbour. This
example had its effect, and at Tripoli his demands obtained immediate
compliance.[231] The second fleet, consisting of thirty vessels,
with 4000 troops on board, was despatched to the West Indies. On
opening their instructions at Barbadoes, the commanders, Admiral Penn
and General Venables, found they were to surprise the two important
islands of St. Domingo and Cuba. Though war with Spain had not yet been
declared, there was no breach of faith, as whatever the relations of
the two governments at home, no peace was recognized beyond the line.
Penn and Venables sailed first, as directed by the instructions, to
the former island. But instead of boldly entering the harbour of the
capital, St. Domingo, they landed the troops at a point forty miles
distant, thus giving the Spaniards time to prepare for defence (April
14, 1655). It was a fatal error, and a period of terrible disaster
followed. Two regiments of Oliver’s old soldiers were engaged upon
the expedition, but the troops mainly consisted of an undisciplined
medley of Cavaliers, Levellers, and other unruly spirits from England,
together with transported English, Scotch, and Irish Royalists from
Barbadoes. The general and the admiral, the land and the sea forces,
disagreed. There was a long march of forty miles under a burning sun.
There was want of water and want of food. The soldiers nearly mutinied
when forbidden to plunder, and from eating unripe fruits dropped down
by hundreds sick and dead on their march. Two unsuccessful attempts
were made to gain possession of the town. In the second the army fell
into an ambuscade, when coming up a narrow path, flanked on either side
by woods, where not above six could march abreast. The guns from a
battery, raised by the Spaniards, fired right down the path; the foot
fell back on the horse, and the whole army was thrown into confusion;
the enemy fired from the woods on either side. “Never was anything
so wedged as we, which made the enemy weary of killing.”[232] A body
of seamen at length drove the Spaniards out of the woods, and night
ended the slaughter; 1000 men had fallen. As Penn and Venables dared
not return home while they had only this disastrous tale to bring to
the protector’s ear, they agreed to sail for Jamaica, then in the
possession of the Spaniards.
♦Conquest of Jamaica.♦ Here their success was greater, for the
colonists, about five hundred in number, taken by surprise, fled upon
their approach, and the island was reduced without opposition (May
10, 1655). In face of many obstacles offered by the climate, and the
reckless and improvident habits of the English troops, now turned
into colonists, Cromwell set to work to render Jamaica a flourishing
settlement. He sent out able men as governors, shipped arms,
provisions, and soldiers, directed the building of fortifications, and
the planting of plantations, and, in short, laid the foundations of the
future power of England in the West Indies.[233]
%BLAKE AT TENERIFFE.%
While war was now proclaimed with Spain, a treaty of peace was signed
between France and England, Louis XIV. agreeing to banish Charles
Stuart and his brothers from French territory (Oct. 24, 1655).
♦League with France.♦ This treaty was afterwards changed into a
league, offensive and defensive (March 23, 1657), Cromwell undertaking
to assist Louis with 6000 men in besieging Gravelines, Mardyke, and
Dunkirk, on condition of receiving the two latter towns when reduced
by the allied armies. By the occupation of these towns Cromwell
intended to control the trade of the Channel, to hold the Dutch in
check, who were then but unwilling friends, and to lessen the danger
of invasion from any union of Royalists and Spaniards. The war opened
in the year 1657 with another triumph by sea. During the summer of
1656, Blake had made a second expedition to the Mediterranean; he was
now engaged in blockading Cadiz, when he learnt that a fleet with
bullion, from Mexico, had taken refuge in the bay of Santa Cruz, in the
island of Teneriffe. The horse-shoe bay was defended by castles at the
two points, and by seven forts round the shore, connected by lines,
bristling with guns and manned by musketeers. Ten small vessels were
moored close to the shore; six large galleons farther out in the bay,
their broadsides towards the sea. This position the Spaniards believed
unassailable: they still thought that ships had no chance against
forts. The master of a Dutch merchantman asked leave to sail out of
the bay. “I am very sure,” he said, “Blake will presently be amongst
you.” “Get you gone, if you will, and let Blake come, if he dares,”
replied the Spaniards.[234] The English fleet numbered five-and-twenty
sail. A favourable wind carried them into the bay. They attacked forts,
ships, and galleons at once. After four hours’ fighting the forts
were silenced, and all the Spanish vessels burnt with the exception
of two, which were sunk. The English fleet started homewards the
same day. Blake was worn out with hard service, and before he could
receive from his countrymen the thanks and honours that were his due,
he “who would never strike to any other enemy, struck his topmast to
death,” within sight of Plymouth (Aug. 7). It was said of this gallant
seaman, that with him valour never missed its reward, nor cowardice
its punishment. Ever loyal to his country, all he said to his sailors
when he announced a change in the government was, “’Tis not our duty to
mind State affairs, but to keep foreigners from fooling us.” The chief
of the State, indeed, was not the man to let foreigners “fool” us.
In accordance with the terms of the French League, Cromwell had sent
6000 of his best troops to the Netherlands. But Mazarin, instead of
besieging Mardyke and Dunkirk, commenced operations in the interior of
the country, and tried to put his ally off with promises. “Tell him,”
Cromwell wrote to Lockhart, his ambassador in France, “that to talk of
what will be done next campaign are but parcels of words for children.”
“If the French,” he wrote again, “are going to be so false as to give
us no footing on that side the water, we must ask for satisfaction for
our expense, and draw off our men.”[235] The story went that Cardinal
Mazarin changed countenance whenever he heard the protector named,
and was not so much afraid of the devil as he was of Oliver Cromwell.
He dared not trifle with him any longer. Mardyke was besieged, taken
in ten days, and delivered over to the English (Sept., 1657). In the
spring of the following year the siege of Dunkirk was commenced (May,
1658). The Spaniards tried to relieve the town, but were completely
defeated in an engagement, called the Battle of the Dunes from the sand
hills among which it was fought; the defeat was mainly owing to the
courage and discipline of Oliver’s troops, who won for themselves the
name of “the Immortal Six Thousand.” James Stuart, the future king,
commanded the left wing of the Spanish army, and narrowly escaped with
his life.
♦Surrender of Mardyke and Dunkirk.♦ Ten days after the battle Dunkirk
surrendered, and the French had no choice but to give over to the
English ambassador the keys of a town they thought _un si bon morceau_
(June 25).[236] At this time no honour was considered too great to
be paid to the protector’s envoys. During the siege of Dunkirk, Lord
Fauconberg, lately become Cromwell’s son-in-law, arrived from England
to meet Louis at Calais. The governor of the town, accompanied by many
persons of quality, came to receive him on his landing; the king’s
own Switzers guarded his door; the king and queen’s own officers
attended him at meals. Louis held a private interview with him and
remained uncovered the whole time. Cardinal Mazarin after a conference
accompanied him downstairs, and saw him into his coach, a courtesy
he seldom paid to his own sovereign.[237] Catholic governments
dared not molest the protector’s subjects. An Englishman in Portugal
was imprisoned by the Inquisition. Cromwell’s resident at Lisbon
expostulated. The king replied that he had no authority over the
Inquisition. At their next interview the resident intimated, that since
his majesty had no power over the Inquisition, the protector declared
war upon it. The Englishman was released.[238]
%THE VAUDOIS PROTECTED.%
Cromwell had not been content with protecting his own subjects only
from persecution. While his friendship was still being courted by both
France and Spain, the Duke of Savoy had ordered the Vaudois living
in the valleys of the Savoy Alps to embrace the Catholic faith, or
to quit their homes within three days (Jan. 25, 1655). It was the
depth of winter, the people were slow to obey, and appealed for aid
and advice to the Protestant cantons of Switzerland. The duke, to
suppress discontent, quartered soldiers in the valleys. Quarrels
naturally ensued, and horrible barbarities were committed by the
troops upon the inhabitants of the valley of Lucerna, whose sufferings
stand commemorated in Milton’s noble sonnet. Cromwell appeared as
their champion. For their immediate needs he started a subscription
list with a donation of £2000. The heart of England was moved with
sympathy: a regular canvass was made; the soldiers gave freely, and
for love or shame almost everybody subscribed. An agent was sent
at once, by Cromwell’s orders, to intercede with the Duke of Savoy
in their favour. Milton, by his directions, wrote letters to the
Kings of France, Sweden, and Denmark, to the Protestant cantons of
Switzerland, and to the States of Holland, appealing to their feelings
of humanity to take measures to put an end to these cruelties. The
pope’s interference was prevented by a hint that he might hear the
thunder of English cannon off Civita Vecchia. The duke himself was
an ally of Louis XIV., and no treaty would Cromwell sign with France
unless the Vaudois were first protected from persecution. In vain Louis
objected that he had no right to interfere with an independent prince,
such as the Duke of Savoy. Finding Cromwell was not to be put off, he
consented to mediate, and by his advice the duke forgave his rebellious
subjects, and confirmed their ancient privileges.[239] The disgraces
of Buckingham’s administration were wiped out by this vigorous policy,
and the position of England abroad was even higher than it was in
the memorable days of Elizabeth. The remembrance of these successes
made the nation smart the more when the Restoration reduced her to the
position of a dependent upon France.
%SPANISH WAR JUSTIFIABLE.%
Foreign policy, indeed, must be judged on other considerations than
mere national glorification. No war can be approved that is undertaken
merely for the sake of conquest, increased revenue, or personal
aggrandizement. A nation, however, is often justified, not only in
defending itself against insult and wrong, but even in entering on
an aggressive war, when made either to preserve the liberty of other
nations from foreign attack, or to wrest an advantage which belongs by
right to all mankind from the grasp of some single power. Cromwell’s
policy was, in the main, confined to these ends. It was an act of
self-defence to punish Spain for the wrongs she had committed upon
English subjects; it was an act of public right in the widest sense
of the term to deprive Spain of her unjust monopoly of trade with the
West Indies. On the other hand, if it is said that England gained too
much by the war for her motives in carrying it on to be regarded as
perfectly pure, in the first place, it is natural that the most injured
party should be chief prosecutor of wrong; and secondly, the best
interests of the world were served by the protector’s policy of making
England the head of Protestant States, and upholding the cause of
liberty of conscience. At least one half of Western Europe was governed
by tyrants, who were bent on crushing free institutions and the free
expression of opinion by imprisonment, banishment, torture, and the
stake. Cromwell, representing all that was best and highest in the
nation, declared eternal hostility to these powers of obstruction and
reaction, and flinging the weight of England into the cause of freedom
and progress, raised her, as much by moral as by material force, to the
foremost place amongst European nations.
In judging the policy of wars defended on public or international
grounds, three criteria may be applied; first, has the principle
invoked been sanctioned by history as one really tending to the highest
good of mankind? secondly, has the attempt a fair chance of success?
and, thirdly, is the war likely to entail a more than compensating
weight of misery on the poor and struggling classes of the nation?
Cromwell’s policy has passed two of these tests, it will be seen that
it passes the third too. The government which effected such great
results was carried on at comparatively a small cost. No waste, no
corruption, was allowed, and the protector offered to lay the accounts
of the expenditure open to inspection. The tax for the support of the
army and navy was reduced from £120,000 to £90,000, and afterwards to
£60,000 a month.
%NEW HOUSE OF LORDS.%
The success of Cromwell’s foreign policy, however glorious it rendered
their country, yet failed to conciliate the Republicans, who seized the
opportunity of the re-assembling of Parliament to display their enmity
(20th Jan.). According to the terms of the Petition and Advice, this
Parliament consisted of two Houses, with the second House composed,
not of the old peers, of whom the majority were Royalists, but of
lords newly created for the purpose by the writs of the protector. To
create lords whose title to the peerage, like that of Oliver’s to the
throne, rested not on hereditary descent but on superior capacity, was
an overbold attempt to return by a short cut to the old forms of the
constitution. For the unquestioning, unreasoning respect given to the
possessors of titles is of slow growth, and new creations can only pass
muster, if few enough to be undistinguishable among the mass of the
old. These new lords were regarded by high and low as impostors. Out
of sixty-three persons summoned to the protector’s Upper House some
twenty declined. Even the Earl of Warwick refused to attend, though
a personal friend, and the grandfather of Cromwell’s son-in-law, Mr.
Rich. The old earl said that he could not bring himself to sit in the
same assembly with Col. Pride, once a drayman, and Col. Hewson, once a
shoemaker. Members of the Commons no longer had to be approved by the
council before taking their seats, for an article of the Petition and
Advice required that, as in former times, persons chosen to serve in
Parliament should not be excluded from sitting, except by the judgment
of the House of which they were members. Thus, any of the opponents
of the government, who were excluded before,[240] were now suffered
to take their seats without opposition, on swearing the requisite
oath of allegiance to the protector. The violent Republicans, Scot,
Haslerig, Bradshaw, and others took the oath without scruple, and then
at once set to work to attack the government. Aided by the absence of
many of Cromwell’s ablest friends, who had been removed to the Upper
House, they readily obtained a majority to follow their lead. First
they debated what rights belonged to the ‘other House,’ and tried to
prove that the Petition and Advice gave it no co-ordinate power with
the Commons in making laws and imposing taxes. They then proceeded to
dispute with the protector’s party as to the name they should call the
‘other House,’ refusing to allow it that of ‘House of Lords.’ For three
weeks, while they occupied their time in these useless debates, dangers
multiplied around the government. Charles Stuart, to whom the Dutch had
sold twenty vessels, came to Ostend, intending, if only the Royalists
would first attempt a rising in his behalf, to cross the Channel at
the head of several regiments of transported Irishmen. At home, all
the disaffected began to engage in conspiracy, or in trying to get
up petitions hostile to the government. There was one petition being
prepared for the restoration of the Stuarts; a second for the reduction
of Cromwell’s authority; while the Republicans were secretly publishing
seditious papers, and tampering with the army, in which they still
possessed considerable influence. The protector’s passion rose. The
Parliament, he said, represented all the bad humours of the nation, and
had become the Parliament of the Republican, Haslerig.[241] Though it
had sat but fifteen days, he determined to dissolve it; its continuance
would soon have led to anarchy and another civil war.
%SECOND SESSION--DISSOLUTION.%
“That,” he said, addressing the members of the two Houses, “which
brought me into the capacity I now stand in, was the Petition
and Advice given me by you; who, in reference to the ancient
constitution, did draw me to accept the place of protector. There
is not a man living can say I sought it; no, not a man nor woman
treading upon English ground. But contemplating the sad condition
of these nations, relieved from an intestine war into a six or
seven years’ peace, I did think the nation happy therein!... I
can say in the presence of God--in comparison with whom we are
but like poor creeping ants upon the earth--I would have been
glad to have lived under my woodside, to have kept a flock of
sheep, rather than undertaken such a government as this. But
undertaking it by the Advice and Petition of you, I did look
that you who had offered it unto me should make it good.... I
do not speak to these gentlemen” (pointing to his right hand),
“or lords, or whatsoever you will call them. I speak not this to
them, but to _you_” (gentlemen of the House of Commons). “You
have not only disjointed yourselves, but the whole nation, which
is in likelihood of running into more confusion in these fifteen
or sixteen days that you have sat, than it hath been from the
rising of the last session to this day, through the intention of
devising a Commonwealth again, that some people might be the men
that might rule all! And they are endeavouring to engage the army
to carry that thing.... These things tend to nothing else but
the playing of the King of Scots’ game, if I may so call him; and
I think myself bound before God to do what I can to prevent it.
It hath been not only your endeavour to pervert the army while
you have been sitting, and to draw them to state the question”
[_i.e._, to petition] “about a Commonwealth; but some of you have
been listing of persons, by commission of Charles Stuart, to join
with any insurrection that may be made. And what is like to come
upon this, the enemy being ready to invade us, but even present
blood and confusion? And if this be so, I do assign it to this
cause--your not consenting to what you did invite me by your
Petition and Advice, as that which might prove the settlement of
the nation. And if this be the end of your sitting, and 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 be judge
between you and me” (4th Feb.).
Cromwell, in his noble zeal for liberty, had really attempted an
impossibility. Parliamentary government is perfectly feasible after
a mere change of dynasty, but after revolutionary forces have been
allowed to run their course, time must solidify existing rule before it
can be exposed to the rude dissolvents of discussion and debate. A real
revolution decomposes a nation into numberless parties, each of which
cannot be content with anything less than all it aims at, and in a free
Parliament any two of these parties, however opposite in policy, may
combine for the sole purpose of destroying any intermediate party which
seems to be more represented by the ruler of the time. It was natural
for intolerant Presbyterians to wish for the overthrow of the Puritan
apostle of toleration, and natural for Republicans to hate the man who
ruled where their oligarchy had failed; but both showed an incapacity
for discerning the possibilities of the time, and for recognizing facts
under forms. The alliance of these two parties against the protectorate
could only promote the Episcopacy which was fatal to the one, and that
absolute monarchy which was the true enemy of the other.
%CONSPIRACIES CRUSHED.%
The Parliament dissolved, Cromwell set his hand to crushing the
conspiracies that had sprung up around. “An old friend of yours is in
town,” he said to Lord Broghill,[242] now a councillor, “the Marquis
of Ormond; he lodges in Drury Lane, at the Papist surgeon’s; if you
have a mind to save your old acquaintance, let him know that I am
informed where he is and what he is doing.” On this hint, Ormond, who
had ventured across the Channel in order, if possible, to concert a
rising, hastened back to Holland, and told his young master that his
friends were far more ready to promise than to perform. The Royalists
were, in fact, disconcerted at the dissolution of the Parliament, on
which they had relied as the cat’s paw to wrest the protector’s power
from him. They now refused to venture property and life on what seemed
a hopeless cast. Several conspirators were already apprehended and in
prison. Five Royalists, engaged in various plots, were tried by a high
court of justice, and executed as traitors. Officers implicated in
Republican plots were cashiered. Disaffection, however, had not spread
far, and the larger part of the army remained devoted to their general.
Summoning the officers to Whitehall, Cromwell explained to them the
cause of the sudden dissolution of the Parliament, and the plots and
conspiracies to which its sitting had given rise, and expressed a hope
that if he should be forced to take money by arbitrary means, they
would give him their support. “We will live and die with you,” they
shouted in reply.[243]
In spite of the prejudice of the nation in favour of its old line
of princes, the peaceful and order-loving classes were beginning to
dread any change of government. Englishmen, even if they disliked the
usurper, could hardly fail to be proud of their great countryman, who
had humiliated the Spaniards, and raised England to the first place
among European powers. National pride could not fail to be gratified
by the surrender of Dunkirk, and the unprecedented honours paid to
England’s ambassadors. The very energy and success with which plots
were suppressed and political enemies disconcerted, itself awoke
admiration. The protector’s dignity, his lenity, the uprightness of his
administration, forced respect even from unwilling subjects. He was
now intending, within the course of a few months, to summon another
Parliament, in order to avoid resorting to arbitrary means for the
raising of money. By taking means to exclude the Republicans, he might
have obtained one friendly to his government, and would perhaps again
have been offered the title of king. There was a widespread feeling
that the ‘fall of the present government would be the occasion of great
disasters to the nation.’ The protector’s popularity had been much
increased by the possession of Dunkirk; petitions were even sent in by
some counties, desiring him to take the title of king; and whether men
feared or hoped, the expectation that he would be crowned was general
throughout the country.[244]
%CROMWELL’S LAST ILLNESS.%
But this expectation was never to be realized. Sorrows fell upon
Cromwell in his own family, and these to him were harder to bear
than the plots and, machinations of his enemies. Death had already
deprived him of two relatives--Robert Rich, lately married to his
youngest daughter (16th Feb.), and the Earl of Warwick, a firm friend
to himself, the young man’s grandfather (19th April). And now his
favourite daughter, Lady Claypole, “of excellent parts, civil to all
persons, courteous, friendly,”[245] lay ill at Hampton Court, “under
great extremity of bodily pain,” dying in fact by some terrible
internal disease. The protector was constantly by her bedside, and so
overpowered with grief for his dying child, that he had but little
attention to bestow on public business. The groom of his bedchamber
relates how “his sense of her outward misery, in the pains she endured,
took deep impression upon him, who indeed was ever a most indulgent and
tender father.”[246] He also relates how the text, ‘I can do all things
through Christ which strengtheneth me,’ was what restored him from
despair. For “this scripture,” as Cromwell himself said, “did once save
my life when my eldest son died, which went as a dagger to my heart,
indeed it did.”[247] Lady Claypole died (6th Aug.), and a fortnight
after her death his own health, which had for some time past been
failing, quite broke down. He was seized with a dangerous ague, and by
advice of his physicians removed from Hampton Court to Whitehall (21st
Aug.).
%DEATH OF CROMWELL.%
Men prayed for his recovery, looking into the dark future with dismay
at the anarchy that might ensue, when the one man was gone who could
hold the rival parties down and compel them to live in peace.[248] “His
heart,” says one who then attended him, “was so carried out for God
and His people--yea indeed, for some who had added no little sorrow to
him, that at this time he seemed to forget his own family and nearest
relations.” “He would frequently say, ‘God is good, indeed He is,’ and
would speak it with much cheerfulness and fervour of spirit in the
midst of his pains. Again he said, ‘I would be willing to live to be
further serviceable to God and His people; but my work is done. Yet
God will be with His people.’ He was very restless most part of the
[Thursday] night, speaking often to himself. And there being something
to drink offered him, he was desired to take the same, and endeavour to
sleep, unto which he answered, ‘It is not my design to drink or sleep;
but my design is to make what haste I can to be gone.’”[249] The next
day was the 3rd of September, his lucky day, the anniversary of his
victories of Dunbar and Worcester, and at four o’clock in the afternoon
of that day Oliver Cromwell lay dead.
%CHARACTER OF CROMWELL.%
Born the year before the century began, he had not lived out his
sixtieth year, when he was thus called away, but the work he had done,
the perils and privations he had faced, might well have taken even more
than ten years from man’s allotted term. It was nearly two centuries
before justice was done to his memory. Strange that England should
have been so long deluded into believing that the noblest of her sons
could have been the ‘great wicked man’ that blind and bitter partisans
depicted; he a mere revolutionary demagogue, who was the restorer of
order at home, the terror of tyranny abroad; he a hard and selfish
usurper, whose stout nerves quailed at last, not at the attempts of
assassins, but at the agony of a daughter’s sufferings; he a prince
of hypocrites, who, in the last and ‘thickest press of domestic
anarchies,’ found time and means to shield the poor Protestants of
Piedmont,[250] and whose last half-conscious murmurings were of the
goodness of God and of His presence with His people! The change in the
current of opinion on this point has been mainly due to the publication
of the letters and speeches of Cromwell.[251] The peculiar value of
Mr. Carlyle’s labours has been thus admirably stated by the closest
student of those times, whose testimony is the more valuable, as that
of one who had himself held a different view of the character and aims
of the greatest of the statesmen of the Commonwealth. “To collect and
arrange in chronological succession, and with elucidatory comment,
every authentic letter and speech left by Cromwell, was to subject him
to a test from which falsehood could hardly escape; and the result has
been to show, we think, conclusively and beyond further dispute, that
through all these speeches and letters one mind runs consistently.
Whatever a man’s former prepossessions may have been, he cannot
accompany the utterer of these speeches, the writer of these letters,
from their first page to their last, travelling with him from his
grazing lands at St. Ives up to his protector’s throne; watching him in
the tenderest intercourse with those dearest to him; observing him in
affairs of State or in the ordinary business of the world, in offices
of friendship or in conference with sovereigns and senates; listening
to him as he comforts a persecuted preacher, or threatens a persecuting
prince; and remain at last with any other conviction than that in all
conditions and on every occasion Cromwell’s tone is substantially the
same, and that in the passionate fervour of his religious feeling,
under its different and varying modifications, the true secret of his
life must be sought, and will be found. Everywhere recognizable is the
sense, deeply inter-penetrated with his nature and life, of spiritual
dangers, of temporal vicissitudes, and of never-ceasing responsibility
to the Eternal. ‘Ever in his Great Taskmaster’s eye.’ Unless you can
believe that you have an actor continually before you, you must believe
that this man did unquestionably recognize in his Bible the authentic
voice of God; and had an irremovable persuasion that according as,
from that sacred source, he learned the divine law here and did it,
or neglected to learn and to do it, infinite blessedness or infinite
misery hereafter awaited him for evermore.”[252]
FOOTNOTES:
[223] Joining the Ribble just south of Preston, the scene of battle of
17th August, 1648.
[224] See the lines found among Col. Overton’s papers, quoted in
Guizot, ii. vi.
[225] Abridged from Burton in Carl., iii. 217.
[226] Clarendon State Papers, iii. 343.
[227] Guizot, i. 418; Forster, Biog. Essays.
[228] See p. 278.
[229] Carl., iii. 164.
[230] Ellis, Orig. Letters, 2nd series iii. 378.
[231] Heath, 692; Thurloe, iii. 413.
[232] From collection of Thurloe, iii. 510.
[233] Thurloe, v. 130; Carl., iii. 129.
[234] Heath, 721.
[235] Carl., iii. 311, 313.
[236] Thurloe, vii. 174.
[237] Thurloe, vi. 157.
[238] Burton’s Diary, Introduction.
[239] Guizot, ii. 529; Carlyle, iii. 108; Lingard, viii. 233.
[240] See p. 348.
[241] Whitelock, 672; Documents in App. to Guizot, ii. 629.
[242] See p. 304.
[243] Thurloe, vi. 786; Guizot (Documents), ii. 610.
[244] Thurloe, vii. 144; Guizot (Documents), ii. 631, 643.
[245] Whitelock, 674.
[246] King’s Tracts., 792; Carl., iii. 368.
[247] Robert, who was buried at Felsted, in Essex, æt. 19, in 1639
(Forster’s Essays, p. 54).
[248] Thurloe, vii. 55.
[249] King’s Tracts., 792.
[250] 26 May, 1658; Carl., iii. 362.
[251] 1st ed., pub. Dec., 1845.
[252] Forster, Essays, p. 33.