Belloc-Lingard - The History of England - CHAPTER VI.: THE PROTECTORATE.
Poverty And Character Of Charles Stuart--War With
Spain--Parliament--Exclusion Of Members--Punishment Of Naylor--Proposal
To Make Cromwell King--His Hesitation And Refusal--New
Constitution--Sindercomb--Sexby--Alliance With France--Parliament Of
Two Houses--Opposition In The Commons--Dissolution--Reduction Of
Dunkirk--Sickness Of The Protector--His Death And Character.
The reader is aware that the young king of Scots, after his escape from
Worcester, had returned to Paris, defeated but not disgraced. The spirit
and courage which he had displayed were taken as an earnest of future
and more successful efforts; and the perilous adventures which he had
encountered threw a romantic interest round the character of the royal
exile. But in Paris he found himself without money or credit, followed by a
crowd of faithful dependants, whose indigence condemned them to suffer the
most painful privations. His mother, Henrietta, herself in no very opulent
circumstances, received him into her house and to her table; after the
lapse of six months, the French king settled on him a monthly allowance
of six thousand francs;[1] and to this were added the casual supplies
furnished by the loyalty of his adherents in England, and his share of the
prizes made by the cruisers under his flag.[2] Yet, with all these aids, he
[Footnote 1: Clar. iii. 441. Thirteen francs were equivalent to an English
pound.]
[Footnote 2: His claim was one-fifteenth, that of the duke of York, as
admiral, one-tenth. See a collection of letters, almost exclusively on that
subject, between Sir Edward Hyde and Sir Richard Browne.--Evelyn's Mem. v.
241, et seq.]
was scarcely able to satisfy the more importunate of his creditors, and to
dole out an occasional pittance to his more immediate followers. From their
private correspondence it appears that the most favoured among them were at
a loss to procure food and clothing.[1]
Yet, poor as he was, Charles had been advised to keep up the name and
appearance of a court. He had his lord-keeper, his chancellor of the
exchequer, his privy councillors, and most of the officers allotted to
a royal establishment; and the eagerness of pursuit, the competition of
intrigue with which these nominal dignities were sought by the exiles,
furnish scenes which cannot fail to excite the smile or the pity of an
indifferent spectator. But we should remember that they were the only
objects left open to the ambition of these men; that they offered scanty,
yet desirable, salaries to their poverty; and that they held out the
promise of more substantial benefits on the restoration of the king, an
event which, however distant it might seem to the apprehension of others,
was always near in the belief of the more ardent royalists.[2]
Among these competitors for place were two, who soon acquired, and long
retained, the royal confidence,
[Footnote 1: Clarendon Pap. iii. 120, 124. "I do not know that any man is
yet dead for want of bread; which really I wonder at. I am sure the king
owes for all he hath eaten since April: and I am not acquainted with one
servant of his who hath a pistole in his pocket. Five or six of us eat
together one meal a day for a pistole a week; but all of us owe for God
knows how many weeks to the poor woman that feeds us."--Clarendon Papers,
iii. 174. June 27, 1653. "I want shoes and shirts, and the marquess
of Ormond is in no better condition. What help then can we give our
friends?"--Ibid. 229, April 3, 1654. See also Carte's Letters, ii. 461.]
[Footnote 2: Clarendon Pap. iii. 83, 99, 106, 136, 162, 179, 187, et
passim. Clarendon, History, iii. 434, 435, 453.]
the marquess of Ormond and Sir Edward Hyde. Ormond owed the distinction to
the lustre of his family, the princely fortune which he had lost in the
royal cause, his long though unsuccessful services in Ireland, and the high
estimation in which he had been held by the late monarch. In talent and
application Hyde was superior to any of his colleagues. Charles I. had
appointed him chancellor of the exchequer, and counsellor to the young
prince; and the son afterwards confirmed by his own choice the judgment of
his father. Hyde had many enemies; whether it was that by his hasty and
imperious temper he gave cause of offence, or that unsuccessful suitors,
aware of his influence with the king, attributed to his counsels the
failure of their petitions. But he was not wanting in his own defences; the
intrigues set on foot to remove him from the royal ear were defeated by his
address; and the charges brought against him of disaffection and treachery
were so victoriously refuted, as to overwhelm the accuser with confusion
and disgrace.[1]
The expectations, however, which Charles had raised by his conduct in
England were soon disappointed. He seemed to lose sight of his three
kingdoms amidst the gaieties of Paris. His pleasures and amusements
engrossed his attention; it was with difficulty that he could be drawn to
the consideration of business; and, if he promised to devote a few hours on
each Friday to the writing of letters and the signature of despatches, he
often discovered sufficient reasons to free himself from the burthen.[2]
But that which chiefly distressed
[Footnote 1: Clarendon, iii. 138, 510, 515-520. Lansdowne's Works, ii.
236-241, quoted by Harris, iv. 153. Clarendon Papers, iii. 84, 92 138, 188,
200, 229.]
[Footnote 2: Clarendon Papers, iii. 159, 170.]
his advisers was the number and publicity of his amours; and, in
particular, the utter worthlessness of one woman, who by her arts had won
his affection, and by her impudence exercised the control over his easy
temper. This was Lucy Walters, or Barlow, the mother of a child, afterwards
the celebrated duke of Monmouth, of whom Charles believed himself to be
the father.[1] Ormond and Hyde laboured to dissolve this disgraceful
connection. They represented to the king the injury which it did to the
royal cause in England, where the appearances at least of morality were so
highly respected; and, after several temporary separations, they prevailed
on Walters to accept[a] an annuity of four hundred pounds, and to repair
with her child to her native country. But Cromwell sent her back to France;
and she returned[b] to Paris, where by her lewdness she forfeited the royal
favour, and shortened her own days. Her son was taken from her by the Lord
Crofts, and placed under the care of the Oratoriens in Paris.[2]
But if Charles was incorrigible in the pursuit of pleasure, he proved a
docile pupil on the subject of
[Footnote 1: She was previously the mistress of Colonel Robert Sydney; and
her son bore so great a resemblance to that officer, that the duke of York
always looked upon Sydney as the father.--Life of James, i. 491. James
in his instructions to his son, says, "All the knowing world, as well as
myself, had many convincing reasons to think he was not the king's son,
but Robert Sydney's."--Macpherson's Papers, i. 77. Evelyn calls Barlow "a
browne, beautiful, bold, but insipid creature."--Diary, ii. 11.]
[Footnote 2: James, i. 492; Clarendon's Own Life, 205. Clarendon Papers,
iii. 180. Thurloe, v. 169, 178; vii. 325. Charles, in the time of his
exile, had also children by Catherine Peg and Elizabeth Killigrew.--See
Sanford, 646, 647. In the account of Barlow's discharge from the Tower,
by Whitelock, we are told that she called herself the wife of Charles
(Whitelock, 649); in the Mercurius Politicus, she is styled "his wife or
mistress."--Ellis, new series, iii. 352.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Jan. 21.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. July 16.]
religion. On one hand, the Catholics, on the other, the Presbyterians,
urged him by letters and messages to embrace their respective modes of
worship. The former maintained that he could recover the crown only through
the aid of the Catholic sovereigns, and had no reason to expect such aid
while he professed himself a member of that church which had so long
persecuted the English Catholics.[1] The others represented themselves as
holding the destiny of the king in their hands; they were royalists at
heart, but how could they declare in favour of a prince who had apostatized
from the covenant which he had taken in Scotland, and whose restoration
would probably re-establish the tyranny of the bishops?[2] The king's
advisers repelled these attempts with warmth and indignation. They observed
to him that, to become a Catholic was to arm all his Protestant subjects
against him; to become a Presbyterian, was to alienate all who had been
faithful to his father, both Protestants of the
[Footnote 1: Yet he made application in 1654 to the pope, through Goswin
Nickel, general of the order of Jesuits, for a large sum of money, which
might enable him to contend for his kingdom at the head of an army of Irish
Catholics; promising, in case of success, to grant the free exercise of the
Catholic religion, and every other indulgence which could be reasonably
asked. The reason alleged for this application was that the power of
Cromwell was drawing to a close, and the most tempting offers had been made
to Charles by the Presbyterians: but the Presbyterians were the most cruel
enemies of the Catholics, and he would not owe his restoration to them,
till he had sought and been refused the aid of the Catholic powers. From
the original, dated at Cologne, 17th Nov. 1654, N.S., and subscribed by
Peter Talbot, afterwards Catholic archbishop of Dublin, ex mandato expresso
Regis Britanniarum. It was plainly a scheme on the part of Charles to
procure money; and probably failed of success.]
[Footnote 2: Both these parties were equally desirous of having the young
duke of Gloucester of their religion.--Clar. Pap. iii. 153, 155. The queen
mother placed him under the care of Montague, her almoner at Pontoise; but
Charles sent Ormond, who brought him away to Cologne.--Clar. Hist. iii.
545: Papers, iii. 256-260. Evelyn, v. 205, 208.]
church of England and Catholics. He faithfully followed their advice; to
both parties he promised, indeed, every indulgence in point of religion
which they could reasonably desire; but avowed, at the same time, his
determination to live and die a member of that church in defence of which
his father had fought and suffered. It is not, however, improbable that
these applications, with the arguments by which they were supported, had
a baneful influence on the mind of the king. They created in him an
indifference to religious truth, a persuasion that men always model their
belief according to their interest.[1]
As soon as Cardinal Mazarin began to negotiate with the protector, the
friends of Charles persuaded him to quit the French territory. By the
French minister the proposal was gratefully received; he promised the
royal fugitive the continuation of his pension, ordered the arrears to be
immediately discharged, and paid him for the next half-year in advance.[2]
Charles fixed[a] his residence at Cologne, where he remained for almost two
years, till the rupture between England and Spain called him again into
activity.[3] After some previous negotiation, he repaired
[Footnote 1: Clarendon Papers, iii. 163, 164, 256, 281, 298, 316; Hist.
iii. 443]
[Footnote 2: Seven thousand two hundred pistoles for twelve months'
arrears, and three thousand six hundred for six in advance.--Clar. Pap.
iii. 293.]
[Footnote 3: While Charles was at Cologne, he was surrounded by spies, who
supplied Cromwell with copious information, though it is probable that they
knew little more than the public reports in the town. On one occasion the
letters were opened at the post-office, and a despatch was found from a
person named Manning to Thurloe. Being questioned before Charles, Manning
confessed that he received an ample maintenance from the protector, but
defended himself on the ground that he was careful to communicate nothing
but what was false. That this plea was true, appeared from his despatch,
which was filled with a detailed account of a fictitious debate in the
council: but the falsehoods which he had sent to England had occasioned the
arrest and imprisonment of several royalists, and Manning was shot as a
traitor at Duynwald, in the territory of the duke of Neuburg.--Clar. iii.
563-569. Whitelock, 633. Thurloe, iv. 293.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. March 12.]
to the neighbourhood of Brussels, and offered himself as a valuable ally to
the Spanish monarch. He had it in his power to call the English and Irish
regiments in the French service to his own standard; he possessed numerous
adherents in the English navy; and, with the aid of money and ships, he
should be able to contend once more for the crown of his fathers, and to
meet the usurper on equal terms on English ground. By the Spanish ministers
the proposal was entertained, but with their accustomed slowness. They had
to consult the cabinet at Madrid; they were unwilling to commit themselves
so far as to cut off all hope of reconciliation with the protector; and
they had already accepted the offers of another enemy to Cromwell, whose
aid, in the opinion of Don Alonzo, the late ambassador, was preferable to
that of the exiled king.[1]
This enemy was Colonel Sexby. He had risen from the ranks to the office of
adjutant-general in the parliamentary army; and his contempt of danger
and enthusiasm for liberty had so far recommended him to the notice of
Cromwell, that the adjutant was occasionally honoured with a place in
the councils, and a share in the bed, of the lord-general. But Sexby had
attached himself to the cause, not to the man; and his admiration, as soon
as Cromwell apostatized from his former principles, was converted into the
most deadly hatred. On the expulsion of the long parliament, he joined
Wildman and the Levellers: Wildman was apprehended; but Sexby eluded the
vigilance of the
[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 275, 279, 286.]
pursuivants, and traversed the country in disguise, everywhere distributing
pamphlets, and raising up enemies to the protector. In the month of May,
1655, he repaired to the court at Brussels. To the archduke and the count
of Fuensaldagna, he revealed[a] the real object of the secret expedition
under Venables and Penn; and offered the aid of the English Levellers for
the destruction of a man, the common enemy of the liberties of his country
and of the rights of Spain. They were a numerous and determined band of
patriots; they asked no other aid than money and the co-operation of the
English and Irish troops in the Spanish service; and they were ready, for
security, to deliver a strong maritime fortress into the hands of their
allies. Fuensaldagna hesitated to give a positive answer before an actual
rupture had taken place; and at his recommendation Sexby proceeded
to Madrid. At first he was received with coldness; but the news from
Hispaniola established his credit; the value of his information was now
acknowledged; he obtained the sum of forty thousand crowns for the use of
his party, and an assurance was given that, as soon as they should be in
possession of the port which he had named, six thousand men should sail[b]
from Flanders to their assistance. Sexby returned to Antwerp, transmitted
several large sums to his adherents, and, though Cromwell at length
obtained information of the intrigue, though the last remittance of eight
hundred pounds had been seized, the intrepid Leveller crossed over[c] to
England, made his arrangements with his associates, and returned[d] in
safety to the continent.[1]
[Footnote 1: Clarend. Pap. iii. 271, 272, 274, 277, 281, 285. Thurloe, iv.
698; v. 37, 100, 319, 349; vi. 829-833. Carte's Letters, ii. 85, 103.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655. June.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Jan.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. June.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. August.]
It now became the object of the Spanish ministers, who had, at last,
accepted[a] the offer of Charles, to effect an union between him and Sexby,
that, by the co-operation of the Levellers with the royalists, the common
enemy might more easily be subdued. Sexby declared[b] that he had no
objection to a limited monarchy, provided it were settled by a free
parliament. He believed that his friends would have none; but he advised
that, at the commencement of the attempt, the royalists should make no
mention of the king, but put forth as their object the destruction of the
usurper and the restoration of public liberty. Charles, on the other hand,
was willing to make use of the services of Sexby; but he did not believe
that his means were equal to his professions, and he saw reason to infer,
from the advice which he had given, that his associates were enemies to
royalty.[1]
The negotiation between the king and the Spanish ministers began to alarm
both Cromwell and Mazarin. The cardinal anticipated the defection of the
British and Irish regiments in the French service; the protector foresaw
that they would probably be employed in a descent upon England. It was
resolved to place the duke of York in opposition to his brother. That
young prince had served with his regiment during four campaigns, under
the Marshal Turenne; his pay as colonel, and his pension of six thousand
pistoles, amply provided for his wants; and his bravery in the field had
gained him the esteem of the general, and rendered him the idol of his
countrymen. Instead of banishing him, according to the secret article,
from France, Mazarin, with the concurrence of Cromwell, offered him the
appointment of captain-general in the
[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 303, 311, 313, 315-317.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. July 27.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 14.]
army of Italy. By James it was accepted with gratitude and enthusiasm; but
Charles commanded him to resign the office, and to repair immediately to
Bruges. He obeyed; his departure[a] was followed by the resignation of
most of the British and Irish officers in the French army; and, in many
instances, the men followed the example of their leaders. Defeated in this
instance, Cromwell and Mazarin had recourse to another intrigue, of which
the secret springs are concealed from our sight. It was insinuated by some
pretended friend to Don Juan, the new governor of the Netherlands, that
little reliance was to be placed on James, who was sincerely attached to
France, and governed by Sir John Berkeley, the secret agent of the French
court, and the known enemy of Hyde and his party. In consequence, the real
command of the royal forces was given to Marsin, a foreigner; an oath of
fidelity to Spain was, with the consent of Charles, exacted[b] from the
officers and soldiers; and in a few days James was first requested and then
commanded[c] by his brother to dismiss Berkeley. The young prince did not
refuse; but he immediately followed[d] Berkeley into Holland with the
intention of passing through Germany into France. His departure was hailed
with joy by Cromwell, who wrote a congratulatory letter to Mazarin on the
success of this intrigue; it was an object of dismay to Charles, who by
messengers entreated and commanded[e] James to return. At Breda, the prince
appeared to hesitate. He soon afterwards retraced his steps to Bruges, on
a promise that the past should be forgotten; Berkeley followed; and the
triumph of the fugitives was completed by the elevation of the obnoxious
favourite to the peerage.[1]
[Footnote 1: Of the flight of James, Clarendon makes no mention in his
History. He even seeks to persuade his reader that the duke was compelled
to leave France in consequence of the secret article (iii. 610, 614;
Papers, iii. Supplement, lxxix), though it is plain from the Memoirs of
James, that he left unwillingly, in obedience to the absolute command of
his brother.--James, i. 270. Clarendon makes the enmity between himself and
Berkeley arise from his opposition to Berkeley's claim to the mastership
of the Court of Wards (Hist. 440; Papers, ); James, from Clarendon's
advice to Lady Morton to reject Berkeley's proposal of marriage.--James, i.
273. That the removal of Berkeley originated with Mazarin and was required
by Fuensaldagna, who employed Lord Bristol and Bennet for that purpose,
appears from Cromwell's letter to the cardinal (Thurloe, v. 736); Bristol's
letter to the king (Clar. Papers, iii. 318), and Clarendon's account of
Berkeley (ibid. Supplement, lxxix). See also ibid. 317-324; and the Memoirs
of James, i. 366-293.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Sept. 1.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 5.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. Dec. 13.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. Dec. 16.]
[Sidenote e: A.D. 1657. Jan. 13.]
We may now return to England, where the Spanish war had excited general
discontent. By the friends of the commonwealth Spain was considered as
their most ancient and faithful ally; the merchants complained that the
trade with that country, one of the most lucrative branches of British
commerce, was taken out of their hands and given to their rivals in
Holland; and the saints believed that the failure of the expedition to
Hispaniola was a sufficient proof that Heaven condemned this breach of the
amity between the two states. It was to little purpose that Cromwell, to
vindicate his conduct, published a manifesto, in which, having enumerated
many real or pretended injuries and barbarities inflicted on Englishmen by
the Spaniards in the West Indies, he contended that the war was just, and
honourable, and necessary. His enemies, royalists, Levellers, Anabaptists,
and republicans, of every description, did not suffer the clamour against
him to subside; and, to his surprise, a request was made[a] by some of the
captains of another fleet collected at Portsmouth, to be informed of
the object of the expedition. If it were destined against Spain, their
consciences would compel them to decline the
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 2.]
service. Spain was not the offending party; for the instances of aggression
enumerated in the manifesto[a] were well known to have been no more than
acts of self-defence against the depredations and encroachments of English
adventurers.[1] To suppress this dangerous spirit, Desborough hastened to
Portsmouth: some of the officers resigned their commissions, others were
superseded, and the fleet at length sailed[b] under the joint command
of Blake and Montague, of whom the latter possessed the protector's
confidence, and was probably employed as a spy on the conduct of his
colleague. Their destination in the first place was Cadiz, to destroy the
shipping in the harbour, and to make an attempt on that city, or the rock
of Gibraltar. On their arrival,[c] they called a council of war; but no
pilot could be found hardy or confident enough to guide the fleet through
the winding channel of the Caraccas; and the defences of both Cadiz and
Gibraltar presented too formidable an aspect to allow a hope of success
without the co-operation of a military force.[2] Abandoning the attempt,
the two admirals proceeded[d] to Lisbon, and extorted from the king
of Portugal the ratification of the treaty formerly concluded by his
ambassador, with the payment of the stipulated sum of fifty thousand
pounds. Thence they returned[e] to Cadiz, passed the straits, insulted the
Spaniards in Malaga, the Moors in Sallee, and after a fruitless cruise
of more than two mouths, anchored[f] a second time in the Tagus.[3] It
happened, that just after their arrival Captain Stayner, with a squadron of
frigates, fell in[g] with a Spanish fleet of eight sail from America. Of
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iv. 571. See also 582, 589, 594. Carte's Letters, ii.
87, 90, 92, 95.]
[Footnote 2: Thurloe, v. 67, 133.]
[Footnote 3: Ibid. i. 726-730; v. 68, 113, 257, 286. Vaughan, i. 446.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 5.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. March 15.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. April 15.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1657. May 29.]
[Sidenote e: A.D. 1657. June 10.]
[Sidenote f: A.D. 1657. July 10.]
[Sidenote g: A.D. 1657. Sept. 10.]
these he destroyed four, and captured two, one of which was laden, with
treasure. Montague, who came home with the prize, valued it in his despatch
at two hundred thousand pounds; the public prints at two millions of
ducats; and the friends of Cromwell hailed the event "as a renewed
testimony of God's presence, and some witness of his acceptance of the
engagement against Spain."[1]
The equipment of this fleet had exhausted the treasury, and the protector
dared not impose additional taxes on the country at a time when his right
to levy the ordinary revenue was disputed in the courts of law. On the
ground that the parliamentary grants were expired, Sir Peter Wentworth had
refused to pay the assessment in the country, and Coney, a merchant,
the duties on imports in London. The commissioners imposed fines, and
distrained; the aggrieved brought actions against the collectors. Cromwell,
indeed, was able to suppress these proceedings by imprisoning the counsel
and intimidating their clients; but the example was dangerous; the want of
money daily increased; and, by the advice of the council, he consented to
call a parliament to meet on the 17th of September.[2]
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, 399, 433, 509, 524. Carte's Letters, ii. 114. It
appears from a letter of Colonel White, that the silver in pigs weighed
something more than forty thousand pounds, to which were to be added some
chests of wrought plate.--Thurloe, 542. Thurloe himself says all was
plundered to about two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, or three hundred
thousand pounds sterling (557). The ducat was worth nine shillings.]
[Footnote 2: Carte's Letters, ii. 96, 103, 109. Ludlow, ii. 80-82. Clar.
Hist. iii. 649. See also A Narrative of the Proceedings in the case of
Mr. G. Coney, by S. Selwood, gent., 1655. The Jews had offered Cromwell
a considerable sum for permission to settle and trade in England.
Commissioners were appointed to confer with their agent Manasseh Ben
Israel, and a council of divines was consulted respecting the lawfulness of
the project. The opposition of the merchants and theologians induced him to
pause; but Mr. Ellis has shown that he afterwards took them silently under
his protection.--Council Book, 14th Nov., 1655. Thurloe, iv. 321, 388.
Bates, 371. Ellis, iv. 2. Marten had made an ineffectual attempt in their
favour at the commencement of the commonwealth.--Wood's Athen. Ox. iii.
1239.]
The result of the elections revealed to him the alarming secret, that the
antipathy to his government was more deeply rooted, and more widely spread,
than he had previously imagined. In Scotland and Ireland, indeed, the
electors obsequiously chose the members recommended by the council;
but these were conquered countries, bending under the yoke of military
despotism. In England, the whole nation was in a ferment; pamphlets were
clandestinely circulated,[a] calling on the electors to make a last
struggle in defence of their liberties; and though Vane, Ludlow, and Rich
were taken into custody;[1] though other republican leaders were excluded
by criminal prosecutions, though the Cavaliers, the Catholics, and all who
had neglected to aid the cause of the parliament, were disqualified from
voting by "the instrument;" though a military force was employed in London
to overawe the proceedings, and the whole influence of the government and
of the army was openly exerted in the country, yet in several counties
the court candidates were wholly, and in most, partially, rejected.
But Cromwell was aware of the error which he had committed in the last
parliament. He resolved that none of his avowed opponents should be allowed
to take possession of their seats. The returns were laid before the
council; the majors-general received orders to inquire into the political
and religious characters of the elected; the reports of these officers
[Footnote 1: The proceedings on these occasions may be seen in Ludlow, ii.
115-123; and State Trials, v. 791.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. August 20.]
were carefully examined; and a list was made of nearly one hundred persons
to be excluded under the pretext of immorality or delinquency.[1]
On the appointed day,[a] the protector, after divine service, addressed
the new "representatives" in the Painted Chamber. His real object was to
procure money; and with this view he sought to excite their alarm, and
to inflame their religious antipathies. He enumerated the enemies of the
nation. The first was the Spaniard, the natural adversary of England,
because he was the slave of the pope, a child of darkness, and consequently
hostile to the light, blinded by superstition, and anxious to put down the
things of God; one with whom it was impossible to be at peace, and to whom,
in relation to this country, might be applied the words of Scripture, "I
will put enmity between thy seed and her seed." There was also Charles
Stuart, who, with the aid of the Spaniard and the duke of Neuburg, had
raised a formidable army for the invasion of the island. There were the
papists and Cavaliers, who had already risen, and were again ready to rise
in favour of Charles Stuart. There were the Levellers, who had sent an
agent to the court of Madrid, and the Fifth-monarchy-men, who sought an
union with the Levellers against him, "a reconciliation between Herod and
Pilate, that Christ might be put to death." The remedies--though in this
part of his speech he digressed so frequently as to appear loth to come to
the remedies--were, to prosecute the war abroad, and strengthen the hands
of the government at home; to lose no time in questions of inferior moment,
or less urgent necessity, but to inquire into the state of the revenue, and
to raise ample supplies.
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, v. 269, 317, 328, 329, 337, 341, 343, 349, 424.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Sept 17.]
In conclusion, he explained the eighty-fifth psalm, exclaiming, "If pope
and Spaniard, and devil, and all set themselves against us, though they
should compass us about like bees, yet in the name of the Lord we shall
destroy them. The Lord of Hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our
refuge."[1]
From the Painted Chamber the members proceeded to the house. A military
guard was stationed at the door, and a certificate from the council was
required from each individual previously to his admission.[2] The excluded
members complained by letter of this breach of parliamentary privilege. A
strong feeling of disapprobation was manifested in several parts of the
house; the clerk of the commonwealth in Chancery received orders to lay
all the returns on the table; and the council was requested to state
the grounds of this novel and partial proceeding. Fiennes, one of the
commissioners of the great seal, replied, that the duty of inquiry into the
qualifications of the members was, by the "instrument," vested in the lords
of the council, who had discharged that trust according to the best of
their judgment. An animated debate followed that such was the provision in
"the instrument" could not be denied;[3] but that the council
[Footnote 1: Introduction to Burton's Diary, cxlviii-clxxix. Journals,
Sept. 17. Thurloe, v. 427. That the king's army, which Cromwell exaggerated
to the amount of eight thousand men, did not reach to more than one
thousand, is twice asserted by Thurloe himself, 605, 672.]
[Footnote 2: The certificates which had been distributed to the favoured
members were in this form:--"Sept. 17, 1656. County of ----. These are to
certify that A.B. is returned by indenture one of the knights to serve in
this parliament for the said county, and is approved by his highness's
council. Nath. Taylor. clerk of the commonwealth in Chancery."]
[Footnote 3: In the draught of the "instrument," as it was amended in
the last parliament, the jurisdiction of the council in this matter was
confined to the charge of delinquency, and its decision was not final, but
subject to the approbation of the house.--Journals, 1654, Nov. 29. But that
draught had not received the protector's assent.]
should decide on secret information, and without the knowledge of the
individuals who were interested, seemed contrary to the first principles of
justice. The court, however, could now command the votes of the majority,
and a motion that the house should pass to the business of the nation was
carried by dint of numbers. Several members, to show their disapprobation,
voluntarily seceded, and those, who had been excluded by force,
published[a] in bold and indignant language an appeal to the justice of the
people.[1]
Having weeded out his enemies, Cromwell had no reason to fear opposition to
his pleasure. The house passed a resolution declaratory of the justice
and policy of the war against Spain, and two acts, by one of which were
annulled all claims of Charles Stuart and his family to the crown, by the
other were provided additional safeguards for the person of the chief
governor. With the same unanimity, a supply of four hundred thousand
pounds was voted; but when the means of raising the money came under
consideration, a great diversity of opinion prevailed. Some proposed to
inquire into the conduct of the treasury, some to adopt improvements in
the collection of the revenue, others recommended an augmentation of
the excise, and others a more economical system of expenditure. In the
discussion of these questions and of private bills, week after week, month
after month, was tediously
[Footnote 1: The nature of the charges against the members may be seen
in Thurloe, v. 371, 383. In the Journals, seventy-nine names only are
mentioned (Journals, 1656, Sept. 19), but ninety-eight are affixed to the
appeal in Whitelock, 651-653. In both lists occur the names of Anthony
Ashley Cooper, who afterwards became Cromwell's intimate adviser, and of
several others who subsequently solicited and obtained certificates.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Sept. 22.]
and fruitlessly consumed; though the time limited by the instrument was
past, still the money bill had made no progress; and, to add to the
impatience of Cromwell, a new subject was accidentally introduced, which,
as it strongly interested the passions, absorbed for some time the
attention of the house.[1]
At the age of nineteen, George Fox, the son of a weaver of Drayton, with a
mind open to religious impressions, had accompanied some of his friends to
a neighbouring fair. The noise, the revelry, and the dissipation which he
witnessed, led him to thoughts of seriousness and self-reproach; and the
enthusiast heard, or persuaded himself that he heard, an inward voice,
calling on him to forsake his parents' house, and to make himself a
stranger in his own country. Docile to the celestial admonition, he began
to lead a solitary life, wandering from place to place, and clothed from
head to foot in garments of leather. He read the Scriptures attentively,
studied the mysterious visions in the Apocalypse, and was instructed in the
real meaning by Christ and the Spirit. At first, doubts and fears haunted
his mind, but, when the time of trial was past, he found himself inebriated
with spiritual delights, and received an assurance that his name was
written in the Lamb's Book of Life. At the same time, he was forbidden by
the Lord to employ the plural pronoun you in addressing a single person,
to bid his neighbour good even or good-morrow, or to uncover the head, or
scrape with the leg to any mortal being. At length, the Spirit moved him to
[Footnote 1: Journals, passim; Thurloe, v. 472, 494, 524, 584, 672, 694.
See note (H).]
impart to others the heavenly doctrines which he had learned. In 1647, he
preached for the first time at Duckenfield, not far from Manchester; but
the most fruitful scene of his labours was at Swarthmoor, near Ulverston.
His disciples followed his example; the word of the Spirit was given to
women as well as men; and the preachers of both sexes, as well as many
of their followers, attracted the notice and the censures of the civil
magistrate. Their refusal to uncover before the bench was usually punished
with a fine, on the ground of contempt; their religious objection to
take an oath, or to pay tithes, exposed them to protracted periods of
imprisonment; and they were often and severely whipped as vagrants,
because, for the purpose of preaching, they were accustomed to wander
through the country. To these sufferings, as is always the case with
persecuted sects, calumny was added; and they were falsely charged with
denying the Trinity, with disowning the authority of government, and with
attempting to debauch the fidelity of the soldiers. Still, in defiance of
punishment and calumny, the Quakers, so they were called, persevered in
their profession; it was their duty, they maintained, to obey the influence
of the Holy Spirit; and they submitted with the most edifying resignation
to the consequences, however painful they might be to flesh and blood.[1]
Of the severities so wantonly exercised against these religionists it
is difficult to speak with temper; yet it must be confessed that their
doctrine of spiritual impulses was likely to lead its disciples of either
sex, whose minds were weak and imaginations active, to extravagances at the
same time ludicrous and
[Footnote 1: Fox, Journal, i. 29, et seq.; Sewel, i. 24, 31, 34, passim.]
revolting.[1] Of this, James Naylor furnished a striking instance. He had
served in the army, and had been quarter-master in Lambert's troop, from
which office he was discharged on account of sickness.[2] He afterwards
became a disciple of George Fox, and a leading preacher in the capital; but
he "despised the power of God" in his master, by whom he was reprimanded,
and listened to the delusive flattery of some among his female hearers,
who were so captivated with his manner and appearance; as to persuade
themselves that Christ was incorporated in the new apostle. It was not for
him to gainsay what the Spirit had revealed to them. He believed himself to
be set as a sign of the coming of Christ; and he accepted the worship which
was paid to him, not as offered to James Naylor, but to Christ dwelling
in James Naylor. Under this impression, during part of his progress to
Bristol,[a] and at his entrance into that city, he rode on horseback with a
man walking bareheaded before him; two females holding his bridle on each
side, and others attending him, one of whom, Dorcas Erbury, maintained that
he had raised her to life after she had
[Footnote 1: "William Simpson was moved of the Lord to go at several times,
for three years, naked and barefoot before them, as a sign unto them in
markets, courts, towns, cities, to priests' houses, and to great men's
houses; so shall they all be stripped naked as he was stripped naked. And
sometimes he was moved to put on hair sackcloth, and to besmear his face,
and to tell them so would the Lord besmear all their religion, as he was
besmeared. Great sufferings did that poor man undergo, sore whipping
with horsewhips and coachwhips on his bare body, grievous stonings and
imprisonments in three years time before the king came in, that they might
have taken warning, but they could not."--Fox; Journal, i. 572.]
[Footnote 2: Lambert spoke of him with kindness during the debate: "He was
two years my quarter-master, and a very useful person. We parted with
him with very great regret. He was a man of very unblameable life and
conversation."--Burton's Diary, i. 33.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. October.]
been dead the space of two days. These occasionally threw scarfs and
handkerchiefs before him, and sang, "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God
of Hosts: Hosanna in the highest; holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God of
Israel." They were apprehended by the mayor, and, sent[a] to London to be
examined by a committee of the parliament. The house, having heard the
report of the committee, voted that Naylor was guilty of blasphemy. The
next consideration was his punishment; the more zealous moved that he
should be put to death; but after a debate which continued during eleven
days, the motion was lost[b] by a division of ninety-six to eighty-two.
Yet the punishment to which he was doomed ought to have satisfied the most
bigoted of his adversaries. He stood[c] with his neck in the pillory for
two hours, and was whipped from Palace Yard to the Old Exchange, receiving
three hundred and ten lashes in the way. Some days later[d] he was again
placed in the pillory; and the letter B for blasphemer was burnt on his
forehead, and his tongue was bored with a red-hot iron.[1] From London the
house ordered him to be conducted[e] to Bristol, the place of his offence.
He entered at Lamford's Gate, riding on the bare back of a horse with
his face to the tail; dismounted at Rockley Gate, and was successively
whipped[f] in five parts of the city. His admirers, however, were not
ashamed of the martyr. On every
[Footnote 1: "This day I and B. went to see Naylor's tongue bored through,
and him marked on the forehead. He put out his tongue very willingly, but
shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead. He was pale when he
came out of the pillory, but high-coloured after tongue-boring. He behaved
himself very handsomely and patiently" (p. 266 in Burton's Diary, where the
report of these debates on Naylor occupies one hundred and forty pages).]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Dec. 6.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 16.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. Dec. 18.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. Dec. 27.]
[Sidenote e: A.D. 1657. Jan. 13.]
[Sidenote f: A.D. 1657. Jan. 17.]
occasion they attended him bareheaded; they kissed and sucked his wounds;
and they chanted with him passages from the Scriptures. On his return to
London[a] he was committed to solitary confinement, without pen, ink, or
paper, or fire, or candle, and with no other sustenance than what he
might earn by his own industry. Here the delusion under which he laboured
gradually wore away; he acknowledged that his mind had been in darkness,
the consequence and punishment of spiritual pride; and declared that,
inasmuch as he had given advantage to the evil spirit, he took shame to
himself. By "the rump parliament" he was afterwards discharged; and the
society of Friends, by whom he had been disowned, admitted him again on
proof of his repentance. But his sufferings had injured his health. In 1660
he was found in a dying state in a field in Huntingdonshire, and shortly
afterwards expired.[1]
While the parliament thus spent its time in the prosecution of an offence
which concerned it not, Cromwell anxiously revolved in his own mind a
secret project of the first importance to himself and the country. To his
ambition, it was not sufficient that he actually possessed the supreme
authority, and exercised it with more despotic sway than any of his
legitimate predecessors; he still sought to mount a step higher, to
encircle his brows with a diadem, and to be addressed with the title of
majesty. It could not be, that vanity alone induced him to hazard the
attachment of his friends for the sake of mere parade and empty sound. He
had rendered the more modest title of protector as great and as formidable
as that of
[Footnote 1: Journals, Dec. 5-17; 1659, Sept. 8. Sewel, 260-273, 283, 393.
State Trials, v. 810-842. Merc. Polit. No. 34.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 22.]
king, and, though uncrowned, had treated on a footing of equality with the
proudest of the crowned heads in Europe. It is more probable that he was
led by considerations of interest. He knew that the nation was weary of
change; he saw with what partiality men continued to cling to the old
institutions; and he, perhaps, trusted that the establishment of an
hereditary monarchy, with a house of peers, though under a new dynasty, and
with various modifications, might secure the possession of the crown, not
only to himself, but also to his posterity. However that may be, he now
made the acquisition of the kingly dignity the object of his policy. For
this purpose he consulted first with Thurloe, and afterwards[a] with St.
John and Pierpoint;[1] and the manner in which he laboured to gratify
his ambition strikingly displays that deep dissimulation and habitual
hypocrisy, which form the distinguishing traits of his character.
The first opportunity of preparing the public mind for this important
alteration was furnished by the recent proceedings against Naylor, which
had provoked considerable discontent, not on account of the severity of the
punishment (for rigid notions of religion had subdued the common feelings
of humanity), but on account of the judicial authority exercised by the
house--an authority which appeared subversive of the national liberties.
For of what use was the right of trial, if the parliament could set
aside the ordinary courts of law at its pleasure, and inflict arbitrary
punishment for any supposed offence without the usual forms of inquiry? As
long as the question was before the house, Cromwell remained silent; but
when the first part of the judgment had been executed
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, v. 694; vi. 20, 37.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Dec. 9.]
on the unfortunate sufferer, he came forward in quality of guardian of the
public rights, and concluded a letter to the speaker[a] with these words:
"We, being intrusted in the present government on behalf of the people of
these nations, and not knowing how far such proceedings (wholly without us)
may extend in the consequences of it, do desire that the house will let us
know the ground and reason whereupon they have proceeded." This message
struck the members[b] with amazement. Few among them were willing to
acknowledge] that they had exceeded their real authority; all dreaded to
enter into a contest with the protector. The discussion lasted three days;
every expedient that had been suggested was ultimately rejected; and the
debate was adjourned to a future day,[c] when, with the secret connivance
of Cromwell, no motion was made to resume it.[1] He had already obtained
his object. The thoughts of men had been directed to the defects of the
existing constitution, and to the necessity of establishing checks on the
authority of the house, similar to those which existed under the ancient
government.
In a few days[d] a bill was introduced which, under the pretence of
providing money for the support of the militia, sought to confirm the past
proceedings of the majors-general, and to invest them with legal authority
for the future. The protector was aware that the country longed to
be emancipated from the control of these military governors; for the
attainment of his great object it was his interest to stand well with
all classes of people; and, therefore, though he was the author of
this unpopular institution, though in his speech at the opening of the
parliament he had been
[Footnote: Burton's Diary, i. 246-258, 260-264, 270-282, 296.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Dec. 25.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 26.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. Jan. 2.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1657. Jan. 7.]
eloquent in its praise, though he had declared that, after his experience
of its utility, "if the thing were undone he would do it again;" he now not
only abandoned the majors-general to their fate, he even instructed his
dependants in the house to lead the opposition against them. As soon as the
bill was read a first time, his son-in-law, Claypole, who seldom spoke,
rose to express his dissent, and was followed by the Lord Broghill, known
as the confidential counsellor of the protector. The decimation-tax was
denounced as unjust, because it was a violation of the act of oblivion,
and the conduct of the majors-general was compared to the tyranny of the
Turkish bashaws. These officers defended themselves with spirit; their
adversaries had recourse to personal crimination;[1] and the debate, by
successive adjournments, occupied the attention of the house during eleven
days. In conclusion, the bill was rejected[a] by a numerous majority and
the majors-general, by the desertion of Cromwell, found themselves exposed
to actions at law for the exercise of those powers which they had accepted
in obedience to his commands.[2]
While this question was still pending, it chanced that a plot against the
protector's life, of which the
[Footnote 1: Among others, Harry Cromwell, the protector's nephew, said he
was ready to name some among the majors-general who had acted oppressively.
It was supposed that these words would bring him into disgrace at court.
"But Harry," says a private letter, "goes last night to his highness, and
stands to what he had said manfully and wisely; and, to make it appear he
spake not without book, had his black book and papers ready to make good
what he said. His highness answered him in raillery, and took a rich
scarlet cloak from his back, and gloves from his hands, and gave them to
Harry, who strutted with his new cloak and gloves into the house this
day."--Thurloe, iv. 20.]
[Footnote 2: Journals, Jan. 7, 8, 12, 19, 20, 21, 28, 29. Burton's Diary,
310-320.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Jan. 29.]
particulars will be subsequently noticed, was discovered and defeated. The
circumstance furnished an opportunity favourable to his views; and the
re-establishment of "kingship" was mentioned in the house, not as a project
originating from him, but as the accidental and spontaneous suggestion of
others. Goffe having expressed[a] a hope that parliament would provide
for the preservation of the protector's person, Ashe, the member for
Somersetshire, exclaimed, "I would add something more--that he would
be pleased to take upon him the government according to the ancient
constitution. That would put an end to these plots, and fix our liberties
and his safety on an old and sure foundation." The house was taken by
surprise: many reprehended the temerity of the speaker; by many his
suggestion was applauded and approved. He had thrown it out to try the
temper of his colleagues; and the conversation which it provoked, served
to point out to Cromwell the individuals from whom he might expect to meet
with opposition.[1]
The detection of the conspiracy was followed[b] by an address of
congratulation to the protector, who on his part gave to the members a
princely entertainment at Whitehall. At their next meeting[c] the question
was regularly brought before them by Alderman Pack, who boldly undertook a
task which the timidity of Whitelock had declined. Rising in his place, he
offered to the house a paper, of which he gave no other explanation than
that it had been placed in his hands, and "tended to the settlement of the
country." Its purport, however, was already known, or conjectured; several
officers instantly started from their seats, and
[Footnote 1: Burton's Diary, 362-366.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Jan. 19.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. Feb. 20.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. Feb. 23.]
Pack was violently borne down to the bar. But, on the restoration of order,
he found himself supported by Broghill, Whitelock, and Glynn, and, with
them, by the whole body of the lawyers, and the dependants of the court.
The paper was read; it was entitled, "An humble Address and Remonstrance,"
protesting against the existing form of government, which depended for
security on the odious institution of majors-general, and providing that
the protector should assume a higher title, and govern, as had been done in
times past, with the advice of two houses of parliament. The opposition (it
consisted of the chief officers, the leading members in the council, and
a few representatives of counties) threw every obstacle in the way of its
supporters; but they were overpowered by numbers: the house debated each
article in succession, and the whole project was finally adopted,[a] but
with the omission of the remonstrance, and under the amended title of the
"Humble Petition and Advice."[1]
As long as the question was before parliament, Cromwell bore himself in
public as if he were unconcerned in the result; but his mind was secretly
harassed by the reproaches of his friends and by the misgivings of his
conscience. He saw for the first time marshalled against him the men who
had stood by him in his different fortunes, and whom he had bound to his
interest by marriages and preferment. At their head was Lambert, the
commander of the army in England, the idol of the military, and second only
to himself in authority. Then came Desborough, his brother-in-law, the
major-general in five counties, and Fleetwood, the husband of his daughter
Bridget, and
[Footnote 1: Journals, Jan. 19, Feb. 21, 23, 24, 25. Thurloe, vi. 74, 78.
Whitelock, 665, 666. Ludlow, ii. 128. Burton's Diary, iii. 160.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 25.] lord-deputy of Ireland.[1] Lambert, at
a private meeting of officers, proposed to bring up five regiments of
cavalry, and compel the house to confirm both the "instrument," and the
establishment of majors-general. This bold counsel was approved; but the
next morning his colleagues, having sought the Lord in prayer, resolved to
postpone its execution till they had ascertained the real intention of the
protector; and Lambert, warned by their indecision, took no longer any part
in their meeting, but watched in silence the course of events.[2] The other
two, on the contrary, persevered in the most active opposition; nor did
they suffer themselves to be cajoled by the artifices of the protector, who
talked in their hearing with contempt of the crown as a mere bauble, and of
Pack and his supporters as children, whom it might be prudent to indulge
with a "rattle."[3]
The marked opposition of these men had given energy to the proceedings of
the inferior officers, who formed themselves into a permanent council under
the very eyes of Cromwell, passed votes in disapprobation of the proposed
alteration, and to the number of one hundred waited on him to acquaint him
with their sentiments.[4] He replied,[a] that there was a time when they
felt no objection to the title of king; for the army had offered it to him
with the original instrument of government. He had rejected it then, and
had no greater love for it now. He had always been
[Footnote 1: Desborough and Fleetwood passed from the inns of court to the
army. The first married Anne, the protector's sister; the second, Bridget
his daughter, and the widow of Ireton. Suspicious of his principles,
Cromwell kept him in England, while Henry Cromwell, with the rank of
major-general, held the government of Ireland.--Noble, i. 103; ii. 243,
336, 338.]
[Footnote 2: Clar. Pap. iii. 333.]
[Footnote 3: Ludlow, ii. 131.]
[Footnote 4: Thurloe, vi. 93, 94, 101, 219.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 28.] the "drudge" of the officers, had done
the work which they imposed on him, and had sacrificed his opinion to
theirs. If the present parliament had been called, it was in opposition
to his individual judgment; if the bill, which proved so injurious to the
majors-general, had been brought into the house, it was contrary to his
advice. But the officers had overrated their own strength: the country
called for an end to all arbitrary proceedings; the punishment of Naylor
proved the necessity of a check on the judicial proceedings of the
parliament, and that check could only be procured by investing the
protector with additional authority. This answer made several proselytes;
but the majority adhered pertinaciously to their former opinion.[1]
Nor was this spirit confined to the army; in all companies men were heard
to maintain that, to set up monarchy again was to pronounce condemnation
on themselves, to acknowledge themselves guilty of all the blood which had
been shed to put it down. But nowhere did the proposal excite more cordial
abhorrence than in the conventicles of the Fifth-monarchy-men. In their
creed the protectorate was an impiety, kingship a sacrilegious assumption
of the authority belonging to the only King, the Lord Jesus. They were his
witnesses foretold in the Apocalypse; they had now slept their sleep of
three years and a half; the time was come when it was their duty to rise
and avenge the cause of the Lord. In the conventicles of the capital the
lion of Judah was chosen for their military device; arms were prepared, and
the day of rising was fixed. They amounted, indeed, to no more
[Footnote 1: For this extraordinary speech we are indebted to the industry
of Mr. Rutt.--Burton's Diary, i. 382.] than eighty men; but they were the
champions of Him who, "though they might be as a worm, would enable them
to thrash mountains." The projects of these fanatics did not escape the
penetrating eye of Thurloe, who, for more than a year, had watched
all their motions, and was in possession of all their secrets. Their
proceedings were regulated by five persons, each of whom presided in a
separate conventicle, and kept his followers in ignorance of the names
of the brethren associated under the four remaining leaders. A fruitless
attempt was made to unite them with the Levellers. But the Levellers
trusted too much to worldly wisdom; the fanatics wished to begin the
strife, and to leave the issue to their Heavenly King. The appointed day[a]
came: as they proceeded to the place of rendezvous, the soldiers of the
Lord were met by the soldiers of the protector; twenty were made prisoners;
the rest escaped, with the loss of their horses and arms, which were seized
in the depôt.[1]
In the mean while the new form of government had received the sanction of
the house. Cromwell, when it was laid before him, had recourse to his usual
arts, openly refusing that for which he ardently longed, and secretly
encouraging his friends to persist, that his subsequent acquiescence might
appear to proceed from a sense of duty, and not from the lust of power. At
first,[b] in reply to a long and tedious harangue from the speaker, he told
them of "the consternation of his mind" at the very thought of the burden;
requested time "to ask counsel of God and his own heart;" and, after a
pause of three days,[c] replied that, inasmuch as the new constitution
provided the best securities for
[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 655. Thurloe, vi. 163, 184-188.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. April 3.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 9.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. March 31.]
the civil and religious liberties of the people, it had his unqualified
approbation; but, as far as regarded himself, "he did not find it in his
duty to God and the country to undertake the charge under the new title
which was given him."[1] His friends refused to be satisfied with this
answer: the former vote was renewed,[a] and the house, waiting on him in a
body, begged to remind him, that it was his duty to listen to the advice of
the great council of the three nations. He meekly replied, that he still
had his doubts on one point; and that, till such doubts were removed, his
conscience forbade him to assent; but that he was willing to explain his
reasons, and to hear theirs, and to hope that in a friendly conference the
means might be discovered of reconciling their opposite opinions, and of
determining on that which might be most beneficial to the country.[2]
In obedience to this intimation, a committee of the house was appointed to
receive and solve the scruples of the protector. To their surprise,
they found him in no haste to enter on the discussion. Sometimes he was
indisposed, and could not admit them; often he was occupied with important
business; on three occasions they obtained an interview. He wished to argue
the question on the ground of expedience. If the power were the same under
a protector, where, he asked, could be the use of a king? The title would
offend men, who, by their former services, had earned the right to
have even their prejudices respected. Neither was he sure that the
re-establishment of royalty might not be a falling off from that cause in
[Footnote 1: Merc. Pol. No. 355. Mr. Rutt has discovered and inserted both
speeches at length in Burton's Diary, i. 397-416.]
[Footnote 2: Thurloe, i. 751, 756. Parl. Hist. iii. 1493-1495. Burton's
Diary, i. 417.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 8.]
which they had engaged, and from that Providence by which they had been
so marvellously supported. It was true, that the Scripture sanctioned the
dignity of king; but to the testimony of Scripture might be opposed "the
visible hand of God," who, in the late contest, "had eradicated kingship."
It was gravely replied, that Protector was a new, King an ancient, title;
the first had no definite meaning, the latter was interwoven with all
our laws and institutions; the powers of one were unknown and liable to
alteration, those of the other ascertained and limited by the law of custom
and the statute law. The abolition of royalty did not originally enter into
the contemplation of parliament--the objection was to the person, not
to the office--it was afterwards effected by a portion only of the
representative body; whereas, its restoration was now sought by a greater
authority--the whole parliament of the three kingdoms. The restoration was,
indeed, necessary, both for his security and theirs; as by law all the acts
of a king in possession, but only of a king, are good and valid. Some there
were who pretended that king and chief magistrate were synonymous; but
no one had yet ventured to substitute one word for the other in the
Scriptures, where so many covenants, promises, and precepts are annexed to
the title of king. Neither could the "visible hand of God" be alleged in
the present case; for the visible hand of God had eradicated the government
by a single person as clearly as that by a king. Cromwell promised to give
due attention to these arguments; to his confidential friends he owned
that his objections were removed; and, at the same time, to enlighten the
ignorance of the public, he ordered[a] a report of the conferences to be
published.[1]
[Footnote 1: See Monarchy asserted to be the most Ancient and Legal Form of
Government, &c. 1660; Walker, Researches, Historical and Antiquarian, i.
1-27; Burton's Diary, App. ii. 493; Thurloe, vi. 819; Whitelock, 565;
Journals, April 9-21.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 20.]
The protector's, however, was not one of those minds that resolve quickly
and execute promptly. He seldom went straight forwards to his object, but
preferred a winding circuitous route. He was accustomed to view and review
the question, in all its bearings and possible consequences, and to invent
fresh causes of delay, till he occasionally incurred the suspicion of
irresolution and timidity.[1] Instead of returning a plain and decisive
answer, he sought to protract the time by requesting[a] the sense of the
house on different passages in the petition, on the intended amount of the
annual income, and on the ratification of the ordinances issued by himself,
and of the acts passed by the little parliament. By this contrivance the
respite of a fortnight was obtained, during which he frequently consulted
with Broghill, Pierpoint, Whitelock, Wolseley, and Thurloe.[2] At length it
was whispered at court that the protector had resolved to accept the title;
and immediately Lambert, Fleetwood, and Desborough made[b] to him, in their
own names and those of several others, the unpleasant declaration, that
they must resign their commissions, and sever themselves from his councils
and service for ever. His irresolution returned: he had promised the house
to give a final answer the next morning;[c] in the morning he postponed it
to five in the evening, and at that hour to
[Footnote 1: "Every wise man out of doors wonders at the delay," Thurloe,
vi. 243; also Claren. Papers, iii. 339.]
[Footnote 2: "In these meetings," says Whitelock, "laying aside his
greatness, he would be exceedingly familiar with us, and, by way of
diversion, would make verses with us, and every one must try his fancy. He
commonly called for tobacco, pipes, and a candle, and would now and then
take tobacco himself. Then he would fall again to his serious and great
business" (656).]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 22.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. May 6.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. May 7.]
the following day. The officers observed, and resolved to profit by, the
impression which they had made; and early in the morning[a] Colonel Mason,
with six-and-twenty companions, offered to the parliament a petition, in
which they stated that the object of those with whom the measure originated
was the ruin of the lord-general and of the best friends of the people, and
conjured the house to support the good old cause in defence of which the
petitioners were ready to sacrifice their lives. This bold step subdued the
reluctance of the protector. He abandoned the lofty hopes to which he had
so long, so pertinaciously clung, despatched Fleetwood to the house to
prevent a debate, and shortly afterwards summoned the members to meet him
at Whitehall. Addressing them with more than his usual embarrassment, he
said, that neither his own reflections nor the reasoning of the committee
had convinced him that he ought to accept the title of king. If he were to
accept it, it would be doubtingly; if he did it doubtingly, it would not be
of faith; and if it were not of faith, it would be a sin. "Wherefore," he
concluded, "I cannot undertake this government with that title of king, and
this is mine answer to this great and weighty business."[1]
Thus ended the mighty farce which for more than two months held in suspense
the hopes and fears of three nations. But the friends of Cromwell resumed
the subject in parliament. It was observed that he had not refused to
administer the government under any other title; the name of king was
expunged for that of protector; and with this and a few more amendments,
the "humble petition and advice"[b] received
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 261, 267, 281, 291. Journals, April 21-May 12.
Parl. Hist. iii. 1498-1502. Ludlow, ii. 131. Clar. Papers, iii. 342.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. May 8.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. May 25.]
the sanction of the chief magistrate. The inauguration followed.[a] On the
platform, raised at the upper end of Westminster Hall, and in front of a
magnificent chair of state, stood the protector; while the speaker, with
his assistants, invested him with a purple mantle lined with ermine,
presented him with a Bible superbly gilt and embossed, girt a sword by his
side, and placed a sceptre of massive gold in his hand. As soon as the oath
had been administered, Manton, his chaplain, pronounced a long and fervent
prayer for a blessing on the protector, the parliament, and the people.
Rising from prayer, Cromwell seated himself in a chair: on the right, at
some distance, sat the French, on the left, the Dutch ambassador; on one
side stood the earl of Warwick with the sword of the commonwealth, on
the other, the lord mayor, with that of the city; and behind arranged
themselves the members of the protector's family, the lords of the council,
and Lisle, Whitelock, and Montague, each of the three bearing a drawn
sword. At a signal given, the trumpets sounded; the heralds proclaimed the
style of the new sovereign; and the spectators shouted, "Long live his
highness; God save the lord-protector." He rose immediately, bowed to the
ambassadors, and walked in state through the hall to his carriage.[1]
That which distinguished the present from the late form of government was
the return which it made towards the more ancient institutions of the
country.
[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 622. Merc. Polit. No. 369. Parl. Hist. iii. 1514,
and Prestwick's Relation, App. to Burton's Diary, ii. 511. Most of the
officers took the oath of fidelity to the protector. Lambert refused, and
resigned his commissions, which brought him about six thousand pounds per
annum. Cromwell, however, assigned to him a yearly pension of two thousand
pounds.--Ludlow, ii. 136.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. June 26.]
That return, indeed, had wrung from Cromwell certain concessions repugnant
to his feelings and ambition, but to which he probably was reconciled by
the consideration that in the course of a few years they might be modified
or repealed. The supreme authority was vested in the protector; but,
instead of rendering it hereditary in his family, the most which he could
obtain was the power of nominating his immediate successor. The two houses
of parliament were restored; but, as if it were meant to allude to his
past conduct, he was bound to leave to the House of Commons the right of
examining the qualifications and determining the claims of the several
representatives. To him was given the power of nominating the members of
the "other house" (he dared not yet term it the House of Lords); but, in
the first instance, the persons so nominated were to be approved by the
house of representatives, and afterwards by the other house itself. The
privilege of voting by proxy was abolished, and the right of judicature
restrained within reasonable limits. In the appointment of councillors,
the great officers of state, and the commanders of the forces, many of the
restrictions sought to be introduced by the long parliament were enforced.
In point of religion, it was enacted that a confession of faith should be
agreed upon between the protector and the two houses; but that dissenters
from it should enjoy liberty of conscience, and the free exercise of their
worship, unless they should reject the mystery of the Trinity, or the
inspiration of the Scriptures, or profess prelatic, or popish, or
blasphemous doctrines. The yearly revenue was fixed at one million three
hundred thousand pounds, of which no part was to be raised by a land-tax;
and of this sum one million was devoted to the support of the army and
navy, and three hundred thousand pounds to the expenses of the civil list;
but, on the remonstrance of the protector, that with so small a revenue it
would be impossible to continue the war, an additional grant of six
hundred thousand pounds was voted for the three following years. After the
inauguration, the Commons adjourned during six months, that time might be
allowed for the formation of the "other house."[1]
Having brought this important session of parliament to its conclusion, we
may now revert to the miscellaneous occurrences of the year, 1. Had much
credit been given to the tales of spies and informers, neither Cromwell nor
his adversary, Charles Stuart, would have passed a day without the dread
of assassination. But they knew that such persons are wont to invent and
exaggerate, in order to enhance the value of their services; and each
had, therefore, contented, himself with taking no other than ordinary
precautions for his security.[2] Cromwell, however, was aware of the
fierce, unrelenting disposition of the Levellers; the moment he learned
that they were negotiating with the exiled king and the Spaniards, he
concluded that they had sworn his destruction; and to oppose their attempts
on his life, he selected[a] one hundred and sixty brave and trusty men from
the different regiments of cavalry, whom he divided into eight
[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 657, 663. Parl. Hist. iii. 1502-1511. In a
catalogue printed at the time, the names were given of one hundred and
eighty-two members of this parliament, who, it was pretended, "were sons,
kinsmen, servants, and otherwise engaged unto, and had places of profit,
offices, salaries, and advantages, under the protector," sharing annually
among them out of the public money the incredible sum of one million
sixteen thousand three hundred and seventeen pounds, sixteen shillings, and
eightpence.]
[Footnote 2: Thurloe's voluminous papers abound with offers and warnings
connected with this subject.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 28.]
troops, directing that two of these troops in rotation should be always on
duty near his person.[1] Before the end of the year, he learned[a] that a
plot had actually been organized, that assassins had been engaged, and that
his death was to be the signal for a simultaneous rising of the Levellers
and royalists, and the sailing of a hostile expedition from the coast of
Flanders. The author of this plan was Sexby; nor will it be too much to
assert that it was not only known, but approved by the advisers of
Charles at Bruges. They appointed an agent to accompany the chief of the
conspirators; they prepared to take every advantage of the murder; they
expressed an unfeigned sorrow for the failure of the attempt. Indeed,
Clarendon, the chief minister (he had lately been made lord chancellor),
was known to hold, that the assassination of a successful rebel or usurper
was an act of justifiable and meritorious loyalty.[2]
Sexby had found a fit instrument for his purpose in Syndercombe, a man of
the most desperate courage,
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iv. 567. Carte, Letters, ii. 81. Their pay was four
and sixpence per day.--Ibid. In addition, if we may believe Clarendon, he
had always several beds prepared in different chambers, so that no one knew
in what particular room he would pass the night.--Hist. iii. 646.]
[Footnote 2: That both Charles and Clarendon knew of the design,
and interested themselves in its execution, is plain from several
letters.--Clar. Pap. iii. 311, 312, 315, 324, 327, 331, 335. Nor can there
be a doubt that Clarendon approved of such murders. It is, indeed, true
that, speaking of the murder of Ascham, when he was at Madrid, he says that
he and his colleague, Lord Cottington, abhorred it.--Clar. Hist. iii. 351.
Yet, from his private correspondence, it appears that he wrote papers in
defence of the murderers (Clar. Pap. iii. 21, 23), recommended them as
"brave fellows, and honest gentlemen" (Jn 235,236), and observed to
Secretary Nicholas, that it was a sad and grievous thing that the princess
royal had not supplied Middleton with money, "but a worse and baser thing
that any man should appear in any part beyond sea under the character of an
agent from the rebels, and not have his throat cut."--Ibid. 144, 1652, Feb.
20.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Dec. 9.]
formerly a quarter-master in the army in Scotland, and dismissed on account
of his political principles. Having admitted a man of the name of Cecil as
his associate, he procured seven guns which would carry a number of balls,
hired lodgings in places near which the protector was likely to pass,
bribed Took, one of the life-guardsmen, to give information of his motions,
and bought the fleetest horses for the purpose of escape. Yet all his
designs were frustrated, either by the multitude of the spectators, or the
vigilance of the guards, or by some unforeseen and unlucky accident. At the
persuasion of Wildman he changed his plan;[a] and on the 9th of January,
about six in the evening, entered Whitehall with his two accomplices; he
unlocked the door of the chapel, deposited in a pew a basket filled with
inflammable materials, and lighted a match, which, it was calculated, would
burn six hours. His intention, was that the fire should break out about
midnight; but Took had already revealed the secret to Cromwell, and all
three were apprehended as they closed the door of the chapel. Took saved
his life by the discovery, Cecil by the confession of all that he knew. But
Syndercombe had wisely concealed from them the names of his associates and
the particulars of the plan. They knew not that certain persons within the
palace had undertaken to murder the protector during the confusion likely
to be caused by the conflagration, and that such measures had been taken as
to render his escape almost impossible. Syndercombe was tried; the judges
held that the title of protector was in law synonymous with that of king;
and he was condemned[b] to suffer the penalties of high treason. His
obstinate silence defeated the anxiety of the protector to procure further
information respecting
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Jan. 9.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. Feb. 9.]
the plot; and Syndercombe, whether he laid violent hands on himself, or was
despatched by the order of government, was found dead[a] in his bed, a few
hours before the time appointed for his execution.[1]
2. The failure of this conspiracy would not have prevented the intended
invasion by the royal army from Flanders, had not Charles been disappointed
in his expectations from another quarter. No reasoning, no entreaty, could
quicken the characteristic slowness of the Spanish ministers. Neither fleet
nor money was ready; the expedition was postponed from month to month; the
season passed away, and the design was deferred till the return of the long
and darksome nights of winter. But Sexby's impatience refused to submit
to these delays; his fierce and implacable spirit could not be satisfied
without the life of the protector. A tract had been recently printed in
Holland, entitled "Killing no Murder," which, from the powerful manner in
which it was written, made a deeper impression on the public mind than any
other literary production of the age. After an address to
[Footnote 1: See Thurloe, v. 774-777; vi. 7, 53; Merc. Polit. No. 345;
Bates, Elen. 388; Clarendon Pap. iii. 324, 325, 327; Claren. Hist. iii.
646; and the several authorities copied in the State Trials, v. 842-871.
The body was opened, and the surgeons declared that there existed no trace
of poison in the stomach, but that the brain was inflamed and distended
with blood in a greater degree than is usual in apoplexy, or any known
disease. The jury, by the direction of the lord chief justice, returned a
verdict that "he, the said Miles Syndercombe, a certain poisoned powder
through the nose of him, the said Miles, into the head of him, the said
Miles, feloniously, wilfully, and of malice aforethought, did snuff and
draw; by reason of which snuffing and drawing so as aforesaid, into the
head of him, the said Miles, he the said Miles, himself did mortally
poison," &c.--Ibid. 859. The Levellers and royalists maintained that he was
strangled by order of Cromwell.--Clar. iii. 647.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 13.]
Cromwell, and another to the army, both conceived in a strain of the most
poignant and sarcastic irony, it proceeds to discuss the three questions:
Whether the lord-protector be a tyrant? Whether it be lawful to do justice
on him by killing him? and, Whether this, if it be lawful, will prove
of benefit to the commonwealth? Having determined each question in the
affirmative, it concludes with an eulogium on the bold and patriotic spirit
of Syndercombe, the rival of Brutus and Cato, and a warning that "longus
illum sequitur ordo idem petentium decus;" that the protector's own
muster-roll contains the names of those who aspire to the honour of
delivering their country; that his highness is not secure at his table, or
in his bed; that death is at his heels wherever he moves, and that though
his head reaches the clouds, he shall perish like his own dung, and they
that have seen him shall exclaim, Where is he? Of this tract thousands of
copies were sent by Sexby into England; and, though many were seized by the
officers, yet many found their way into circulation.[1] Having obtained a
sum of one thousand four hundred crowns, he followed the books to organize
new plots against the life of the protector. But by this time he was too
well known. All his steps in Holland were watched; his departure for
England was announced; emissaries were despatched in every direction; and
within a few weeks he was apprehended and incarcerated in the Tower.
There he discovered, probably feigned, symptoms of insanity. To questions
respecting himself[a] he answered with apparent frankness and truth, that
he had intrigued with the Spanish court, that he had supplied Syndercombe
with money, that he had written the
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 315.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Oct. 10.]
tract, "Killing no Murder;" nor was there, he said, any thing unlawful in
these things, for the protectorate had not then been established by any
authority of parliament; but, whenever he was interrogated respecting the
names and plans of his associates, his answers became wild and incoherent,
more calculated to mislead than to inform, to create suspicion of the
friends, than to detect the machinations of the enemies, of the government.
He was never brought to trial, but died, probably by violence, in the sixth
month of his imprisonment.[1]
3. During the winter Blake continued to blockade Cadiz: in spring he learnt
that the Plate fleet from Peru had sought an asylum in the harbour of Santa
Cruz, in the Island of Teneriffe. There the merchantmen, ten in number,
were moored close to the shore, in the form of a crescent; while the six
galleons in their front formed a parallel line at anchor in deeper water.
The entrance of the bay was commanded by the guns of the castle; seven
batteries erected at intervals along the beach protected the rest of the
harbour; and these were connected with each other by covered ways lined
with musketry. So confident was the governor when he surveyed these
preparations, that, in the pride of his heart, he desired a Dutch
[Footnote 1: Clarendon Papers, iii. 322, 338, 357. Merc. Pol. 39. Thurloe,
vi. 33, 182, 315, 425, 560, 829. Clarendon assures us that Sexby was an
illiterate person, which is a sufficient proof that he was not the real
author of the tract, though he acknowledged it for his own in the Tower,
probably to deceive the protector. The writer, whoever he was, kept his
secret, at least at first; for Clarendon writes to Secretary Nicholas, that
he cannot imagine who could write it.--Clar. Papers, iii. 343. By most
historians it has been attributed to Captain Titus; nor shall we think this
improbable, if we recollect that Titus was, in Holland, constantly in the
company of Sexby, till the departure of the latter for England.--Ibid. 331,
335. Evelyn asserts it in his Diary, ii. 210, 8vo.]
captain to inform the English admiral that he was welcome to come whenever
he durst. Blake came, examined the defences, and, according to custom,
proclaimed a solemn fast. At eight the next morning[a] Stayner took the
lead in a frigate; the admiral followed in the larger ships; and the whole
fleet availing itself of a favourable wind, entered the harbour under a
tremendous shower of balls and shells. Each vessel immediately fell into
its allotted station; and, while some engaged the shipping, the rest
directed their fire against the batteries. The Spaniards, though fewer in
number of ships, were superior in that of men; their hopes were supported
by the aid which they received from the land; and during four hours they
fought with the most determined bravery. Driven from the galleons, the
crews retreated to the second line of merchantmen, and renewed the contest
till they were finally compelled to save themselves on the shore. At two in
the afternoon every Spanish ship was in possession of the English, and in
flames. Still there remained the difficulty of working the fleet out of the
harbour in the teeth of the gale. About sunset they were out of reach of
the guns from the forts; the wind, by miracle, as Blake persuaded himself,
veered to the south-west, and the conquerors proceeded triumphantly out to
sea. This gallant action, though it failed of securing the treasure which
the protector chiefly sought, raised the reputation of Blake in every
part of Europe. Unfortunately the hero himself lived not to receive the
congratulations of his country. He had been during a great part of three
years at sea; the scurvy and dropsy wasted his constitution; and he
expired[b] in his fifty-ninth year,
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 20.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. August 7.]
as his ship, the St. George, entered the harbour of Plymouth.[1]
Blake had served with distinction in the army during the civil war; and the
knowledge of his talents and integrity induced the parliamentary leaders to
entrust him with the command of the fleet. For maritime tactics he relied
on the experience of others; his plans and his daring were exclusively his
own. He may claim the peculiar praise of having dispelled an illusion which
had hitherto cramped the operations of the British navy--a persuasion that
it was little short of madness to expose a ship at sea to the fire from a
battery on shore. The victories of Blake at Tunis and Santa Cruz served to
establish the contrary doctrine; and the seamen learned from his example
to despise the danger which had hitherto been deemed so formidable. Though
Cromwell prized his services, he doubted his attachment; and a suspicion
existed that the protector did not regret the death of one who professed to
fight for his country, not for the government. But he rendered that justice
to the dead, which he might perhaps have refused to the living, hero. He
publicly acknowledged his merit, honouring his bones with a funeral at the
national expense, and ordering them to be interred at Westminster, in Henry
the Seventh's chapel. In the next reign the coffin was taken from the
vault, and deposited in the church yard.
4. The reader is aware of Cromwell's anxiety to form a more intimate
alliance with Louis XIV. For this purpose Lockhart, one of the Scottish
judges, who
[Footnote 1: Vaughan, ii. 176. Heath, 391, 402. Echard, 725. Journals, May
28, 29.]
had married his niece, and received knighthood at his hand, proceeded
to France. After some discussion, a treaty, to last twelve months, was
concluded;[1][a] and Sir John Reynolds landed at Calais[b] with an
auxiliary force of six thousand men, one half in the pay of the king,
the other half in that of the protector. But as an associate in the war,
Cromwell demanded a share in the spoil, and that share was nothing less
than the possession of Mardyke and Dunkirk, as soon as they could be
reduced by the allies. To this proposal the strongest opposition had been
made in the French cabinet. Louis was reminded of the injuries which the
English, the natural enemies of France, had inflicted on the country in the
reigns of his predecessors. Dunkirk would prove a second Calais; it would
open to a foreign foe the way into the heart of his dominions. But he
yielded to the superior wisdom or ascendancy of Mazarin, who replied that,
if France refused the offers it would be accepted with a similar sacrifice
by Spain; that, supposing the English to be established on that coast at
all, it was better that they should be there as friends than as enemies;
and that their present co-operation would enable him either to drive the
Spaniards out of the Netherlands, or to dictate to them the terms of
peace.[2] The combined force
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 63, 86, 115, 124. To avoid disputes, the treaty
was written in the Latin language, and the precedency was given to Louis in
one copy, to Cromwell in the other. In the diplomatic collection of Dumont,
vi. part ii. 178, is published a second treaty, said to have been signed on
May 9th, N.S. If it were genuine, it would disclose gigantic projects of
aggrandizement on the part of the two powers. But it is clearly a forgery.
We have despatches from Lockhart dated on the day of the pretended
signature, and other despatches for a year afterward; yet none of them
make the remotest allusion to this treaty; several contain particulars
inconsistent with it.]
[Footnote 2: Oeuvres de Louis XIV. i. 171.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 13, May 15.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. May 15.]
was placed under the command of the celebrated Turenne, who was opposed by
the Spaniards under Don Juan, with the British exiles, commanded by the
duke of York, and the French exiles, by the prince of Condé. The English
auxiliaries, composed of veteran regiments, supported the reputation of
their country by their martial appearance and exemplary discipline; but
they had few opportunities of displaying their valour; and the summer was
spent in a tedious succession of marches and countermarches, accompanied
with no brilliant action nor important result. Cromwell viewed the
operations of the army with distrust and impatience. The French ministry
seemed in no haste to redeem their pledge with respect to the reduction
of Dunkirk, and to his multiplied remonstrances uniformly opposed this
unanswerable objection, that, in the opinion of Turenne, the best judge,
the attempt in the existing circumstances must prove ruinous to the
allies. At last he would brook no longer delay; the army marched into the
neighbourhood of the town, and the fort of Mardyke capitulated[a] after a
siege of three days. But the Spaniards lay strongly intrenched behind the
canal of Bergues, between Mardyke and Dunkirk; and by common consent the
design was abandoned, and the siege of Gravelines substituted in its place.
Scarcely, however, had the combined army taken[b] a position before it,
when the sluices were opened, the country was inundated, and Turenne
dismissed his forces into winter quarters. Mardyke received a garrison,
partly of English, and partly of French, under the command of Sir John
Reynolds; but that officer in a short time incurred the suspicion of the
protector. The duke of York, from his former service in the French army,
was well known
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Sept. 23.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. Sept. 27.]
to some of the French officers. They occasionally met and exchanged
compliments in their rides, he from Dunkirk, they from Mardyke. By one of
them Reynolds solicited permission to pay his respects to the young prince.
He was accompanied by Crew, another officer; and, though he pretended that
it was an accidental civility, found the opportunity of whispering an
implied offer of his services in the ear of the duke. Within a few days
he received an order to wait on the protector in London in company with
Colonel White, who had secretly accused him; but both were lost[a] on the
Goodwin Sands, through the ignorance or the stupidity of the captain.[1]
At home the public attention was absorbed by a new and most interesting
spectacle. The parliament met on the day to which it had been adjourned,
but it was now divided according to the ancient form into two houses.
Sixty-two individuals had been summoned[b] to the upper house, and the
writs, as they were copies of those formerly issued by the sovereign, were
held to confer in like manner the privileges of an hereditary peerage,
subject to certain exceptions specified in the "petition and advice."[2]
The Commons, at the call of the usher of the black rod, proceeded to the
House of Lords, where they found his highness seated under a canopy of
state. His speech began with the ancient address: "My lords and gentlemen
of the House of Commons." It was short, but its brevity was compensated by
its piety, and after an exposition of the eighty-fifth psalm, he referred
his two houses for other particulars to Fiennes, the lord-keeper, who, in a
long and tedious
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 231, 287, 426, 512, 538, 542, 580, 637, 665, 676,
731. Memoirs of James, i. 317-328.]
[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vi. 752.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Dec. 5.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. Jan. 20.]
harangue, praised and defended the new institutions. After the departure of
the Commons, the Lords spent their time in inquiries into the privileges of
their house. Cromwell had summoned his two sons, Richard and Henry, seven
peers of royal creation, several members of his council, some gentlemen of
fortune and family, with a due proportion of lawyers and officers, and a
scanty sprinkling of persons known to be disaffected to his government. Of
the ancient peers two only attended, the lords Eure and Falconberg, of whom
the latter had recently[a] married Mary, the protector's daughter; and of
the other members, nine were absent through business or disinclination. As
their journals have not been preserved, we have little knowledge of their
proceedings.[1]
In the lower house, the interest of the government had declined by the
impolitic removal of the leading members to the House of Lords, and by
the introduction of those who, having formerly been excluded by order of
Cromwell, now took their seats in virtue of the article which reserved to
the house the right of inquiry into the qualifications of its members.
The opposition was led by two men of considerable influence and undaunted
resolution, Hazlerig and Scot. Both had been excluded at the first meeting
of this parliament, and both remembered the affront. To remove Hazlerig
[Footnote 1: Journals, Jan. 7, 20. Whitelock, 666, 668. The speech of
Fiennes is reported in the Journals, Jan. 25. See the names and characters
of those who attended, in "A Second Narrative of the late Parliament (so
called), &c., printed in the fifth year of England's Slavery under its new
Monarchy, 1658." "They spent their time in little matters, such as choosing
of committees; and among other things, to consider of the privileges and
jurisdiction of their house, (good wise souls!) before they knew what their
house was, or should be called."--Ibid. 7. The peers who refused to attend,
were the earls of Mulgrave, Warwick, and Manchester, the Viscount Say and
Sele, and the Lord Wharton.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Nov. 19.]
from a place where his experience and eloquence rendered him a formidable
adversary, Cromwell had called him to the upper house; but he refused to
obey the writ, and took his seat among the Commons.[1] That a new house was
to be called according to the articles of the "petition and advice," no one
denied; but who, it was asked, made its members lords? who gave them the
privileges of the ancient peerage? who empowered them to negative the acts
of that house to which they owed their existence? Was it to be borne that
the children should assume the superiority over their parents; that the
nominees of the protector should control the representatives of the people,
the depositaries of the supreme power of the nation? It was answered
that the protector had called them lords; that it was the object of "the
petition and advice" to re-establish the "second estate;" and that, if any
doubt remained, it were best to amend the "instrument" by giving to the
members of the other house the title of lords, and to the protector that
of king.[a] Cromwell sought to soothe these angry spirits. He read to them
lectures on the benefit, the necessity, of unanimity. Let them look abroad.
The papists threatened to swallow up all the Protestants of Europe. England
was the only stay, the last hope of religion. Let them look at home: the
Cavaliers and the Levellers were combined to overthrow the constitution;
Charles Stuart was preparing an invasion; and the Dutch had ungratefully
sold him certain vessels for that purpose. Dissension would inevitably draw
down ruin on themselves,
[Footnote 1: Hazlerig made no objection to the oath which bound him to
be faithful to the protector. But the sense which he attached to it is
singular: "I will be faithful," said he, "to the lord-protector's person. I
will murder no man."--Burton's Diary, ii. 347.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Jan. 25.]
their liberties, and their religion. For himself. he called God, angels,
and men, to witness that he sought not the office which he held. It was
forced upon him; but he had sworn to execute its duties, and he would
perform what he had sworn, by preserving to every class of men their just
rights, whether civil or religious.[1] But his advice, and entreaties, and
menaces were useless.[a] The judges repeatedly brought messages from "the
Lords to the Commons," and as often were told that "that house would return
an answer by messengers of their own."[b] Instead, however, of returning
answers, they spent their whole time in debating what title and what rights
ought to belong to the other house.[2]
Never, perhaps, during his extraordinary career, was Cromwell involved in
difficulties equal to those which surrounded him at this moment. He could
raise no money without the consent of parliament, and the pay of the army
in England was five, and of that in Ireland seven, months in arrear; the
exiled king threatened a descent from the coast of Flanders, and the
royalists throughout the
[Footnote 1: Mr. Rutt has added this speech to Burton's Diary, ii. 351-371.
I may remark that, 1. The protector now addressed the members by
the ambiguous style of "my lords and gentlemen of the two houses of
parliament." 2. That he failed in proving the danger which, as he
pretended, menaced Protestantism. If, in the north, the two Protestant
states of Sweden and Denmark were at war with each other, more to the south
the Catholic states of France and Spain were in the same situation. 3. That
the vessels sold by the Dutch were six flutes which the English cruisers
afterwards destroyed. 4. That from this moment he was constantly asserting
with oaths that he sought not his present office. How could he justify such
oaths in his own mind? Was it on the fallacious ground that what he in
reality sought was the office of king, not of protector?]
[Footnote 2: Journals, Jan. 25, 29, Feb. 1, 3. Burton's Diary, ii. 371-464.
Thurloe, i. 766; vi. 767.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Jan. 22.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. Feb. 3.]
kingdom were preparing to join his standard; the leaders of opposition in
parliament had combined with several officers in the army to re-establish
the commonwealth, "without a single person or house of lords;" and
a preparatory petition for the purpose of collecting signatures was
circulated through the city. Cromwell consulted his most trusty advisers,
of whom some suggested a dissolution, others objected the want of money,
and the danger of irritating the people. Perhaps he had already taken his
resolution, though he kept it a secret within his own breast; perhaps
it might be the result of some sudden and momentary impulse;[1] but one
morning[a] he unexpectedly threw himself into a carriage with two horses
standing at the gates of Whitehall; and, beckoning to six of his guards to
follow, ordered the coachman to drive to the parliament house. There he
revealed his purpose to Fleetwood, and, when that officer ventured to
remonstrate, declared, by the living God that he would dissolve the
parliament. Sending for the Commons, he addressed them in an angry and
expostulating tone. "They," he said, "had placed him in the high situation
in which he stood; he sought it not; there was neither man nor woman
treading on English ground who could say he did. God knew that he would
rather have lived under a wood side, and have tended a flock of sheep, than
have undertaken the government. But, having undertaken it at their request,
he had a right to look to them for aid and support. Yet some among them,
God was his witness, in violation of their oaths, were attempting to
establish a commonwealth
[Footnote 1: "Something happening that morning that put the protector
into a rage and passion near unto madness, as those at Whitehall can
witness."--Second Narrative, p. 8.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Feb. 4.]
interest in the army; some had received commissions to enlist men for
Charles Stuart; and both had their emissaries at that moment seeking to
raise a tumult, or rather a rebellion, in the city. But he was bound before
God to prevent such disasters; and, therefore," he concluded, "I think
it high time that an end be put to your sitting; and I do dissolve this
parliament; and let God judge between me and you." "Amen, amen," responded
several voices from the ranks of the opposition.[1]
This was the fourth parliament that Cromwell had broken. The republicans
indulged their resentment in murmurs, and complaints, and menaces; but the
protector, secure of the fidelity of the army, despised the feeble efforts
of their vengeance, and encouraged by his vigour the timidity of his
counsellors. Strong patrols of infantry and cavalry paraded the streets,
dispersing every assemblage of people in the open air, in private houses,
and even in conventicles and churches, for the purpose, or under the
pretext, of devotion. The colonel-major and several captains of his own
regiment were cashiered;[2] many of the Levellers and royalists were
arrested and imprisoned, or discharged upon bail; and the lord-mayor,
aldermen, and common-council received from Cromwell
[Footnote 1: Journ. Feb. 4. Thurloe, vi. 778, 779, 781, 788. Parl. Hist.
iii. 1525. By the oath, which Cromwell reproaches them with violating,
they had sworn "to be true and faithful to the lord-protector as chief
magistrate, and not to contrive, design, or attempt any thing against his
person or lawful authority."]
[Footnote 2: "I," says Hacker, "that had served him fourteen years, and had
commanded a regiment seven years, without any trial or appeal, with the
breath of his nostrils I was outed, and lost not only my place but a dear
friend to boot. Five captains under my command were outed with me, because
they could not say that was a house of lords."--Burton's Diary, iii. 166.]
himself an account of the danger which threatened them from the invasion
meditated by Charles Stuart, and a charge to watch the haunts of the
discontented, and to preserve the tranquillity of the city. At the same
time his agents were busy in procuring loyal and affectionate addresses
from the army, the counties, and the principal towns; and these, published
in the newspapers, served to overawe his enemies, and to display the
stability of his power.[1]
The apprehension of invasion, to which Cromwell so frequently alluded, was
not entirely groundless. On the return of the winter, the royalists had
reminded Charles of his promise in the preceding spring; the king of Spain
furnished an aid of one hundred and fifty thousand crowns; the harbour of
Ostend was selected for the place of embarkation; and arms, ammunition, and
transports were purchased in Holland. The prince himself, mastering for a
while his habits of indolence and dissipation, appeared eager to redeem his
pledge;[2] but the more prudent of his advisers conjured him not to risk
his life on general assurances of support; and the marquess of Ormond, with
the most chivalrous loyalty, offered to ascertain on the spot the real
objects and resources of his adherents. Pretending to proceed on a mission
to the court of the duke of Neuburg, that nobleman, accompanied by O'Neil,
crossed the sea,[a] landed in disguise at Westmarch on the coast of Essex,
and
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 778, 781, 788; vii. 4, 21, 32, 49, 71. Parl.
Hist. iii. 1528.]
[Footnote 2: Still Ormond says to Hyde, "I fear his immoderate delight in
empty, effeminate, and vulgar conversations is become an irresistible part
of his nature, and will never suffer him to animate his own designs, and
others' actions, with that spirit which is requisite for his quality, and
much more to his fortune."--27, Jan. 7, 1658. Clar. iii. 387.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. End of January.]
hastened to London. There, continually changing his dress and lodgings,
he contrived to elude the suspicion of the spies of government, and had
opportunities of conversing with men of different parties; with the
royalists, who sought the restoration of the ancient monarchy; with the
Levellers, who were willing that the claims of the king and the subject
should be adjusted in a free parliament; with the moderate Presbyterians,
who, guided by the earls of Manchester and Denbigh, with Rossiter and Sir
William Waller, offered to rely on the royal promises; and the more rigid
among the same religionists, who, with the lords Say and Robarts at their
head, demanded the confirmation of the articles to which the late king
had assented in the Isle of Wight. But from none could he procure any
satisfactory assurances of support. They were unable to perform what they
had promised by their agents. They had not the means, nor the courage,
nor the abilities, necessary for the undertaking. The majority refused
to declare themselves, till Charles should have actually landed with a
respectable force; and the most sanguine required a pledge that he would
be ready to sail the moment he heard of their rising, because there was no
probability of their being able, without foreign aid, to make head against
the protector beyond the short space of a fortnight.[1]
In these conferences Ormond frequently came in contact with Sir Richard
Willis, one of the sealed knot, and standing high in the confidence of
Charles.[2]
[Footnote 1: Carte's Letters, ii. 118, 124, 130. Clar. iii. 388, 392, 395.
Thurloe, i. 718.]
[Footnote 2: The knot consisted of Willis, Colonel Russell, Sir William
Compton, Edward Villiers, and Mr. Broderick, according to several letters
in Clarendon; according to the duke of York, of the four first, Lord
Belasyse, and Lord Loughborough.--James, i. 370.]
Willis uniformly disapproved of the attempt. The king's enemies, he
observed, were now ready to unsheath their swords against each other; but
let the royal banner be once unfurled, and they would suspend their present
quarrel, to combine their efforts against the common enemy. Yet the author
of this prudent advice was, if we may believe Clarendon, a traitor, though
a traitor of a very singular description. He is said to have contracted
with Cromwell, in consideration of an annual stipend, to reveal to him the
projects of the king and the royalists; but on condition that he should
have no personal communication with the protector, that he should never be
compelled to mention any individual whose name he wished to keep secret,
and that he should not be called upon to give evidence, or to furnish
documents, for the conviction of any prisoner.[1] It is believed that for
several years he faithfully complied with this engagement; and when he
thought that Ormond had been long enough in London, he informed Cromwell
of the presence of the marquess in the capital, but at the same moment
conveyed advice to the marquess that orders had been issued for his
apprehension. This admonition had its desired effect. Ormond stole away[b]
to Shoreham in Sussex, crossed over to Dieppe, concealed himself two months
in Paris, and then, travelling
[Footnote 1: This is Clarendon's account. In Thurloe, i. 757, is a paper
signed John Foster, supposed to be the original offer made to Thurloe by
Willis. He there demands that no one but the protector should be acquainted
with his employment; that he should never be brought forward as a witness;
that the pardon of one dear friend should be granted to him; and that he
should receive fifty pounds with the answer, five hundred pounds on his
first interview with Thurloe, and five hundred pounds when he put into
their hands any of the conspirators against Cromwell's person.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Feb. 15.]
in disguise through France to Geneva, that he might escape the notice
of Lockhart and Mazarin, returned along the Rhine to join his master in
Flanders.[1]
There was little in the report of Ormond to give encouragement to Charles;
his last hopes were soon afterwards extinguished by the vigilance of
Cromwell. The moment the thaw opened the ports of Holland, a squadron of
English frigates swept the coast,[a] captured three and drove on shore two
flutes destined for the expedition, and closely blockaded the harbour of
Ostend.[2] The design was again postponed till the winter;[b] and the king
resolved to solicit in person a supply of money at the court of the Spanish
monarch. But from this journey he was dissuaded both by Hyde and by the
Cardinal de Retz, who pointed out to him the superior advantage of his
residence in Flanders, where he was in readiness to seize the first
propitious moment which fortune should offer. In the mean time the
cardinal, through his agent in Rome, solicited from the pope pecuniary aid
for the king, on condition that in the event of his ascending the throne of
his fathers, he should release the Catholics of his three kingdoms from the
intolerable pressure of the penal laws.[3]
The transactions of this winter, the attempt of Syndercombe, the ascendancy
of the opposition in parliament,
[Footnote 1: Clar. Hist. iii. 614-618, 667. Clarendon's narrative is so
frequently inaccurate, that it is unsafe to give credit to any charge on
his authority alone; but in the present instance he relates the discovery
of the treachery of Willis with such circumstantial minuteness, that
it requires a considerable share of incredulity to doubt of its being
substantially true; and his narrative is confirmed by James II. (Mem. i.
370), and other documents to be noticed hereafter.]
[Footnote 2: Carte's Letters, ii. 126, 135. Clar. Papers, iii. 396.]
[Footnote 3: Carte's Letters, ii. 136-142, 145. Clar. Pap. iii. 401.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. March 15.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. April 14.]
and the preparations of the royalists to receive the exiled king, added to
habitual indisposition, had soured and irritated the temper of Cromwell. He
saw that to bring to trial the men who had been his associates in the cause
might prove a dangerous experiment; but there was nothing to deter him from
wreaking his vengeance on the royalists, and convincing them of the danger
of trespassing any more on his patience by their annual projects of
insurrection. In every county all who had been denounced, all who were
even suspected, were put under arrest; a new high court of justice was
established according to the act of 1656; and Sir Henry Slingsby, Dr.
Hewet, and Mr. Mordaunt, were selected for the three first victims.
Slingsby, a Catholic gentleman and a prisoner at Hull, had endeavoured to
corrupt the fidelity of the officers in the garrison; who, by direction
of the governor, amused the credulity of the old man, till he had the
imprudence to deliver[a] to them a commission from Charles Stuart.[1] Dr.
Hewet was an episcopalian divine, permitted to preach at St. Gregory's, and
had long been one of the most active and useful of the royal agents in
the vicinity of the capital. Mordaunt, a younger brother of the earl of
Peterborough, had also displayed his zeal for the king, by maintaining a
constant correspondence with the marquess of Ormond, and distributing royal
commissions to those who offered to raise men in favour of Charles. Of the
truth of the charges brought against them, there could be no doubt; and,
aware of their danger, they strongly protested against the legality of the
court, demanded a trial by jury, and appealed to Magna Charta and several
acts of parliament. Slingsby at last pleaded, and was condemned; Hewet,
under the
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 777, 780, 786, 870; vii. 46, 47, 98.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. April 2.]
pretence that to plead was to betray the liberties of Englishmen, stood
mute; and his silence, according to a recent act, was taken for a
confession of guilt. Mordaunt was more fortunate. Stapeley, who, to save
his own life, swore against him, proved an unwilling witness; and Mallory,
who was to have supported the evidence of Stapeley, had four days before
been bribed to abscond. This deficiency was gladly laid hold of by the
majority of the judges, who gave their opinion[a] that his guilt was not
proved; and, for similar reasons, some days later acquitted two other
conspirators, Sir Humphrey Bennet and Captain Woodcock. The fact is, they
were weary of an office which exposed them to the censure of the public;
for the court was viewed with hatred by the people. It abolished the trial
by jury; it admitted no inquest or presentment by the oaths of good and
faithful men; it deprived the accused of the benefit of challenge; and its
proceedings were contrary to the law of treason, the petition of right, and
the very oath of government taken by the protector. Cromwell, dissatisfied
with these acquittals, yielded to the advice of the council, and sent the
rest of the prisoners before the usual courts of law, where several were
found guilty, and condemned to suffer the penalties of treason.[1]
Great exertions were made to save the lives of Slingsby and Hewet. In
favour of the first, it was urged that he had never been suffered to
compound, had never submitted to the commonwealth, and had
[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 673, 674. Thurloe, vii. 159, 164. State Trials, v.
871, 883, 907. These trials are more interesting in Clarendon, but much of
his narrative is certainly, and more of it probably, fictitious. It is not
true that Slingsby's offence was committed two years before, nor that Hewet
was accused of visiting the king in Flanders, nor that Mallory escaped out
of the hall on the morning of the trial (See Claren. Hist. iii. 619-624.)
Mallory's own account of his escape is in Thurloe, vii. 194-220.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. June 9.]
been for years deprived both of his property and liberty, so that his
conduct should be rather considered as the attempt of a prisoner of war
to regain his freedom, than of a subject to overturn the government. This
reasoning was urged[a] by his nephew, Lord Falconberg, who, by his recent
marriage with Mary Cromwell, was believed to possess considerable influence
with her father. The interest of Dr. Hewet was espoused by a more powerful
advocate--by Elizabeth, the best-beloved of Cromwell's daughters, who at
the same time was in a delicate and precarious state of health. But it
was in vain that she interceded for the man whose spiritual ministry she
employed; Cromwell was inexorable. He resolved[b] that blood should be
shed, and that the royalists should learn to fear his resentment,
since they had not been won by his forbearance. Both suffered death by
decapitation.[1]
During the winter, the gains and losses of the hostile armies in Flanders
had been nearly balanced. If, on the one hand, the duke of York was
repulsed with loss in his attempt to storm by night the works at Mardyke;
on the other, the Marshal D'Aumont was made prisoner with fifteen hundred
men by the Spanish governor of Ostend, who, under the pretence of
delivering up the place, had decoyed him within the fortifications. In
February, the offensive treaty
[Footnote 1: Ludlow, ii. 149. I think there is some reason to question
those sentiments of loyalty to the house of Stuart, and that affliction and
displeasure on account of the execution of Hewet, which writers attribute
to Elizabeth Claypole. In a letter written by her to her sister-in-law, the
wife of H. Cromwell, and dated only four days after the death of Hewet, she
calls on her to return thanks to God for their deliverence from Hewet's
conspiracy: "for sertingly not ondly his (Cromwell's) famely would have bin
ruined, but in all probabillyti the hol nation would have his invold in
blod."--June 13. Thurloe, vii. 171.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Nov. 19.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. June 8.]
between France and England was renewed for another year; three thousand
men, drafted from different regiments, were sent by the protector to supply
the deficiency in the number of his forces; and the combined army opened
the campaign with the siege of Dunkirk. By the Spaniards the intelligence
was received with surprise and apprehension. Deceived by false information,
they had employed all their efforts to provide for the safety of Cambray.
The repeated warnings given by Charles had been neglected; the extensive
works at Dunkirk remained in an unfinished state; and the defence of the
place had been left to its ordinary garrison of no more than one thousand
men, and these but scantily supplied with stores and provisions. To repair
his error, Don Juan, with the consent of his mentor, the Marquess Caracena,
resolved to hazard a battle; and, collecting a force of six thousand
infantry and four thousand cavalry, encamped between the village of Zudcote
and the lines of the besiegers. But Turenne, aware of the defective
organization of the Spanish armies, resolved to prevent the threatened
attack; and the very next morning, before the Spanish cannon and ammunition
had reached the camp, the allied force was seen advancing in battle array.
Don Juan hastily placed his men along a ridge of sand-hills which extended
from the sea coast to the canal, giving the command of the right wing to
the duke of York, of the left to the prince of Condé, and reserving
the centre to himself. The battle was begun by the English, who found
themselves opposed to their countryman, the duke of York. They were led
by Major-General Morgan; for Lockhart, who acted both as ambassador and
commander-in-chief, was confined by indisposition to his carriage. Their
ardour to distinguish themselves in the presence of the two rival nations
carried them considerably in advance of their allies; but, having halted
to gain breath at the foot of the opposite sand-hill, they mounted with
impetuosity, received the fire of the enemy, and, at the point of the pike,
drove them from their position. The duke immediately charged at the head
of the Spanish cavalry; but one half of his men were mowed down by a
well-directed fire of musketry; and James himself owed the preservation of
his life to the temper of his armour. The advantage, however, was dearly
purchased: in Lockhart's regiment scarcely an officer remained to take the
command.
By this time the action had commenced on the left, where the prince of
Condé, after some sharp fighting, was compelled to retreat by the bank of
the canal. The centre was never engaged; for the regiment, on its
extreme left, seeing itself flanked by the French in pursuit of Condé,
precipitately abandoned its position, and the example was successively
imitated by the whole line. But, in the meanwhile, the duke of York had
rallied his broken infantry, and while they faced the English, he charged
the latter in flank at the head of his company of horse-guards. Though
thrown into disorder, they continued to fight, employing the butt-ends of
their muskets against the swords of their adversaries, and in a few minutes
several squadrons of French cavalry arrived to their aid. James was
surrounded; and, in despair of saving himself by flight, he boldly assumed
the character of a French officer; rode at the head of twenty troopers
toward the right of their army; and, carefully threading the different
corps, arrived without exciting suspicion at the bank of the canal, by
which he speedily effected his escape to Furnes.[1] The victory on the part
of the allies was complete. The Spanish cavalry made no effort to protect
the retreat of their infantry; every regiment of which was successively
surrounded by the pursuers, and compelled to surrender. By Turenne and his
officers the chief merit of this brilliant success was cheerfully allotted
to the courage and steadiness of the English regiments; at Whitehall it was
attributed to the prayers of the lord-protector, who, on that very day,
observed with his council a solemn fast to implore the blessing of heaven
on the operations of the allied army.[2]
Unable to oppose their enemies in the field, the Spanish generals proposed
to retard their progress by the most obstinate defence of the different
fortresses. The prince de Ligne undertook that of Ipres; the care of
Newport, Bruges, and Ostend was committed to the duke of York; and Don Juan
returned to Brussels to hasten new levies from the different provinces.
Within a fortnight Dunkirk capitulated,[a] and the king of France, having
taken possession, delivered the keys with his own hand to the English
ambassador. Gravelines was soon afterwards reduced;[b] the prince de Ligne
suffered himself to be surprised by the
[Footnote 1: See the account of this battle by James himself, in his
Memoirs, i. 338-358; also Thurloe, vii. 155, 156, 159.]
[Footnote 2: "Truly," says Thurloe, "I never was present at any such
exercise, where I saw a greater spirit of faith and prayer poured
forth."--Ibid. 158. "The Lord," says Fleetwood, "did draw forth his
highness's heart, to set apart that day to seek the Lord; and indeed
there was a very good spirit appearing. Whilst we were praying, they were
fighting; and the Lord hath given a signal answer. And the Lord hath not
only owned us in our work there, but in our waiting upon him in our way of
prayer, which is indeed our old experienced approved way in all our straits
and difficulties."--Ibid. 159.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. June 17.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. August 20.]
superior activity of Turenne; Ipres opened its gates, and all the towns
on the banks of the Lys successively submitted to the conquerors. Seldom,
perhaps, had there occurred a campaign more disastrous to the Spanish
arms.[1]
In the eyes of the superficial observer, Cromwell might now appear to have
reached the zenith of power and greatness. At home he had discovered,
defeated, and punished all the conspiracies against him; abroad, his army
had gained laurels in the field; his fleets swept the seas; his friendship
was sought by every power; and his mediation was employed in settling the
differences between both Portugal and Holland, and the king of Sweden
and the elector of Brandenburg. He had recently sent Lord Falconberg to
compliment Louis XIV. on his arrival at Calais; and in a few days, was
visited by the duke of Crequi, who brought him a magnificent sword as a
present from that prince, and by Mancini, with another present of tapestry
from his uncle, the Cardinal Mazarin. But, above all, he was now in
possession of Dunkirk, the great object of his foreign policy for the last
two years, the opening through which he was to accomplish the designs of
Providence on the continent. The real fact, however, was that his authority
in England never rested on a more precarious footing than at the present
moment; while, on the other hand, the cares and anxieties of government,
joined to his apprehensions of personal violence, and the pressure of
domestic affliction, were
[Footnote 1: James, Memoirs, i. 359. Thurloe, vii. 169, 176, 215. If we may
believe Temple (ii. 545), Cromwell now saw his error in aiding the French,
and made an offer of uniting his forces with those of Spain, provided the
siege of Calais were made the first attempt of the combined army.]
rapidly undermining his constitution, and hurrying him from the gay and
glittering visions of ambition to the darkness and silence of the tomb.
1. Cromwell was now reduced to that situation which, to the late
unfortunate monarch, had proved the source of so many calamities. His
expenditure far outran his income. Though the last parliament had made
provision, ample provision, as it was then thought, for the splendour of
his establishment, and for all the charges of the war, he had already
contracted enormous debts; his exchequer was frequently drained to the last
shilling; and his ministers were compelled to go a-begging--such is the
expression of the secretary of state--for the temporary loan of a few
thousand pounds, with the cheerless anticipation of a refusal.[1] He
looked on the army, the greater part of which he had quartered in the
neighbourhood of the metropolis, as his chief--his only support against his
enemies; and while the soldiers were comfortably clothed and fed, he might
with confidence rely on their attachment; but now that their pay was in
arrear, he had reason to apprehend that discontent might induce them to
listen to the suggestions of those officers who sought to subvert his
power. On former occasions, indeed, he had relieved himself from similar
embarrassments by the imposition of taxes by his own authority; but this
practice was so strongly reprobated in the petition and advice, and he had
recently abjured it with so much solemnity, that he dared not repeat
the experiment. He attempted to raise a loan among the merchants and
capitalists in the city; but his credit and popularity were gone; he had,
by plunging into
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 99, 100, 144, 295.]
war with Spain, cut off one of the most plentiful sources of profit, the
Spanish trade; and the number of prizes made by the enemy, amounting to
more than a thousand,[1] had ruined many opulent houses. The application
was eluded by a demand of security on the landed property belonging to
country gentlemen. There remained a third expedient,--an application to
parliament. But Cromwell, like the first Charles, had learned to dread
the very name of a parliament. Three of these assemblies he had moulded
according to his own plan, and yet not one of them could he render
obsequious to his will. Urged, however, by the ceaseless importunities of
Thurloe, he appointed[a] nine councillors to inquire into the means of
defeating the intrigues of the republicans in a future parliament; the
manner of raising a permanent revenue from the estates of the royalists;
and the best method of determining the succession to the protectorate. But
among the nine were two who, aware of his increasing infirmities, began to
cherish projects of their own aggrandizement, and who, therefore, made it
their care to perplex and to prolong the deliberations. The committee sat
three weeks. On the two first questions they came to no conclusion; with
respect to the third, they voted, on a division, that the choice between
an elective and an hereditary succession was a matter of indifference.
Suspicious of their motives, Cromwell dissolved[b] the committee.[2] But he
substituted no
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 662.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid. 146, 176, 192, 269. The committee consisted, in
Thurloe's words, of Lord Fiennes, Lord Fleetwood, Lord Desborow, Lord
Chamberlayne, Lord Whalley, Mr. Comptroller, Lord Goffe, Lord Cooper, and
himself (p. 192). On this selection Henry Cromwell observes: "The wise men
were but seven; it seems you have made them nine. And having heard their
names, I think myself better able to guess what they'll do than a much
wiser man; for no very wise man can ever imagine it" (p. 217).]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658 June 16.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658 July 8.]
council in its place; things were allowed to take their course; the
embarrassment of the treasury increased; and the irresolution of the
protector, joined to the dangers which threatened the government, shook the
confidence of Thurloe himself. It was only when he looked up to heaven
that he discovered a gleam of hope, in the persuasion that the God who had
befriended Cromwell through life, would not desert him at the close of his
career.[1][a]
2. To the cares of government must be added his constant dread of
assassination. It is certainly extraordinary that, while so many
conspiracies are said to have been formed, no attempt was actually made
against his person; but the fact that such designs had existed, and the
knowledge that his death was of the first importance to his enemies,
convinced him that he could never be secure from danger. He multiplied his
precautions. We are told that he wore defensive armour under his clothes;
carried loaded pistols in his pockets; sought to remain in privacy; and,
when he found it necessary to give audience, sternly watched the eyes and
gestures of those who addressed him. He was careful that his own motions
should not be known beforehand. His carriage was filled with attendants; a
numerous escort accompanied him; and he proceeded at full speed, frequently
diverging from the road to the right or left, and generally returning by
a different route. In his palace he often inspected the nightly watch,
changed his bed-chamber, and was careful that, besides the principal door,
there should be some other egress, for the facility
[Footnote 1: Ibid. 153, 282, 295.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. July 27.]
of escape. He had often faced death without flinching in the field; but his
spirit broke under the continual fear of unknown and invisible foes. He
passed the nights in a state of feverish anxiety; sleep fled from his
pillow; and for more than a year before his death we always find the
absence of rest assigned as either the cause which produced, or a
circumstance which aggravated, his numerous ailments.[1]
3. The selfishness of ambition does not exclude the more kindly feelings of
domestic affection. Cromwell was sincerely attached to his children; but,
among them, he gave the preference to his daughter Elizabeth Claypole.
The meek disposition of the young woman possessed singular charms for the
overbearing spirit of her father; and her timid piety readily received
lessons on mystical theology from the superior experience of the
lord-general.[2] But she was now dying of a most painful and internal
complaint, imperfectly understood by her physicians; and her grief for the
loss of her infant child added to the poignancy of her sufferings. Cromwell
abandoned the business of state that he might hasten to Hampton Court, to
[Footnote 1: So says Clarendon (iii. 646), Bates (Elench. 343), and Welwood
(p. 94); but their testimony can prove nothing more than that such reports
were current, and obtained credit, among the royalists.]
[Footnote 2: The following passage from one of Cromwell's letters to his
daughter Ireton, will perhaps surprise the reader. "Your sister Claypole is
(I trust in mercye) exercised with some perplexed thoughts, shee sees her
owne vanitye and carnal minde, bewailinge itt, shee seeks after (as I hope
alsoe) that w'ch will satisfie, and thus to bee a seeker, is to be of the
best sect next a finder, and such an one shall every faythfull humble
seeker bee at the end. Happie seeker; happie finder. Who ever tasted that
the Lord is gracious, without some sense of self-vanitye and badness? Who
ever tasted that graciousnesse of his, and could goe lesse in desier, and
lesse than pressinge after full enjoyment? Deere hart presse on: lett not
husband, lett not anythinge coole thy affections after Christ," &c. &c.
&c.--Harris, iii. App. 515, edit. 1814.]
console his favourite daughter. He frequently visited her, remained long in
her apartment, and, whenever he quitted it, seemed to be absorbed in the
deepest melancholy. It is not probable that the subject of their private
conversation was exposed to the profane ears of strangers. We are, however,
told that she expressed to him her doubts of the justice of the good old
cause, that she exhorted him to restore the sovereign authority to the
rightful owner, and that, occasionally, when her mind was wandering, she
alarmed him by uttering cries of "blood," and predictions of vengeance.[1]
4. Elizabeth died.[a] The protector was already confined to his bed with
the gout, and, though he had anticipated the event, some days elapsed
before he recovered from the shock. A slow fever still remained, which
was pronounced a bastard tertian.[b] One of his physicians whispered to
another, that his pulse was intermittent;[c] the words caught the ears of
the sick man; he turned pale, a cold perspiration covered his face; and,
requesting to be placed in bed, he executed his private will. The next
morning he had recovered his usual composure; and when he received the
visit of his physician,[d] ordering all his attendants to quit the room but
his wife, whom he held by the hand, he said to him: "Do not think that I
shall die; I am sure of the contrary." Observing the surprise which these
words excited, he continued: "Say not that I have lost my reason: I tell
you the truth. I know it from better authority than any which you can have
from Galen or Hippocrates. It is the answer of God himself to our prayers;
not to mine alone, but to those of others who have a more intimate
[Footnote 1: Clar. Hist. iii. 647. Bulstrode, 205. Heath, 408.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. August 6.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. August 17.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1658. August 24.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1658. August 25.]
interest in him than I have."[1] The same communication was made to
Thurloe, and to the different members of the protector's family; nor did it
fail to obtain credit among men who believed that "in other instances he
had been favoured with similar assurances, and that they had never deceived
him."[2] Hence his chaplain Goodwin exclaimed, "O Lord, we pray not for his
recovery; that thou hast granted already; what we now beg is his speedy
recovery."[3]
In a few days, however, their confidence was shaken. For change of air he
had removed to Whitehall, till the palace of St. James's should be ready
for his reception. There his fever became[a] a double tertian, and his
strength rapidly wasted away. Who, it was asked, was to succeed him? On the
day of his inauguration he had written the name of his successor within a
cover sealed with the protectorial arms; but that paper had been lost,
or purloined, or destroyed. Thurloe undertook to suggest to him a second
nomination; but the condition of the protector, who, if we believe him,
was always insensible or delirious, afforded no opportunity. A suspicion,
however, existed, that he had private reasons for declining to interfere in
so delicate a business.[4]
The 30th of August was a tempestuous day: during the night the violence of
the wind increased till it blew a hurricane. Trees were torn from their
roots in the park, and houses unroofed in the city. This extraordinary
occurrence at a moment when it was thought that the protector was dying,
could not fail
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 321, 340, 354, 355. Bates, Elench. 413.]
[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vii. 355, 367, 376.]
[Footnote 3: Ludlow, ii. 151.]
[Footnote 4: Thurloe, 355, 365, 366.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658 August 28.]
of exciting remarks in a superstitious age; and, though the storm reached
to the coasts of the Mediterranean, in England it was universally referred
to the death-bed of the protector. His friends asserted that God would not
remove so great a man from this world without previously warning the nation
of its approaching loss; the Cavaliers more maliciously maintained that the
devils, "the princes of the air," were congregating over Whitehall, that
they might pounce on the protector's soul.[1]
On the third night afterwards,[a] Cromwell had a lucid interval of
considerable duration. It might have been expected that a man of his
religious disposition would have felt some compunctious visitings, when
from the bed of death he looked back on the strange eventful career of his
past life. But he had adopted a doctrine admirably calculated to lull and
tranquillize the misgivings of conscience. "Tell me," said he to Sterry,
one of his chaplains, "Is it possible to fall from grace?" "It is not
possible," replied the minister. "Then," exclaimed the dying man, "I am
safe; for I know that I was once in grace." Under this impression he
prayed, not for himself, but for God's people. "Lord," he said, "though a
miserable and wretched creature, I am in covenant with thee through thy
grace, and may and will come to thee for thy people. Thou hast made me a
mean instrument to do them some good, and thee service. Many of them set
too high a value upon me, though others would be glad of my death. Lord,
however thou disposest of me, continue, and go on to do good for them.
Teach those who look too much upon thy instruments, to depend more upon
thyself,
[Footnote 1: Clar. 646. Bulstrode, 207. Heath, 408. Noble, i. 147, note.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Sept. 2.]
and pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a poor worm, for they
are thy people too."[1]
Early in the following morning,[a] he relapsed into a state of
insensibility. It was his fortunate day, the 3rd of September, a
circumstance from which his sorrowing relatives derived a new source
of consolation. It was, they observed, on the 3rd of September that he
overcame the Scots at Dunbar; on that day, he also overcame the royalists
at Worcester; and on the same day, he was destined to overcome his
spiritual enemies, and to receive the crown of victory in heaven.
About four in the afternoon he breathed his last, amidst the tears and
lamentations of his attendants. "Cease to weep," exclaimed the fanatical
Sterry, "you have more reason to rejoice. He was your protector here; he
will prove a still more powerful protector, now that he is with Christ at
the right hand of the Father." With a similar confidence in Cromwell's
sanctity, though in a somewhat lower tone of enthusiasm, the grave and
cautious Thurloe announced the event by letter to the deputy of Ireland.
"He is gone to heaven, embalmed with the tears of his people, and upon the
wings of the prayers of the saints."[2]
Till the commencement of the present century, when that wonderful man
arose, who, by the splendour of his victories and the extent of his empire,
cast all preceding adventurers into the shade, the name of Cromwell stood
without a parallel in the history of civilized Europe. Men looked with a
feeling of awe on the
[Footnote 1: Collection of Passages concerning his late Highness in Time of
his Sickness, p. 12. The author was Underwood, groom of the bed-chamber.
See also a letter of H. Cromwell, Thurloe, vii. 454; Ludlow, ii. 153.]
[Footnote 2: Ludlow, ii. 153. Thurloe, vii. 373.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Sept. 3.]
fortunate individual who, without the aid of birth, or wealth, or
connections, was able to seize the government of three powerful kingdoms,
and to impose the yoke of servitude on the necks of the very men who had
fought in his company to emancipate themselves from the less arbitrary
sway of their hereditary sovereign. That he who accomplished this was no
ordinary personage, all must admit; and yet, on close investigation, we
shall discover little that was sublime or dazzling in his character.
Cromwell was not the meteor which surprises and astounds by the rapidity
and brilliancy of its course. Cool, cautious, calculating, he stole on with
slow and measured pace; and, while with secret pleasure he toiled up the
ascent to greatness, laboured to persuade the spectators that he was
reluctantly borne forward by an exterior and resistless force, by the march
of events, the necessities of the state, the will of the army, and even the
decree of the Almighty. He seems to have looked upon dissimulation as the
perfection of human wisdom, and to have made it the key-stone of the arch
on which he built his fortunes.[1] The aspirations of his ambition were
concealed under the pretence of attachment to "the good old cause;" and his
secret workings to acquire the sovereignty for himself and his family were
represented as endeavours to secure for his former brethren in arms the
blessings of civil and religious freedom, the two great objects which
originally called them into the field. Thus his whole conduct was made up
of artifice and deceit. He laid his plans long beforehand; he studied the
views and dispositions of all from whose influence he had any thing to hope
or fear; and he
[Footnote 1: See proofs of his dissimulation in Harris, iii. 93-103;
Hutchinson, 313.]
employed every expedient to win their affections, to make them the blind
unconscious tools of his policy. For this purpose he asked questions, or
threw out insinuations in their hearing; now kept them aloof with an air of
reserve and dignity; now put them off their guard by condescension, perhaps
by buffoonery;[1] at one time, addressed himself to their vanity or
avarice; at another, exposed to them with tears (for tears he had at will),
the calamities of the nation; and then, when he found them moulded to his
purpose, instead of assenting to the advice which he had himself suggested,
feigned reluctance, urged objections, and pleaded scruples of conscience.
At length he yielded; but it was not till he had acquired by his resistance
the praise of moderation, and the right of attributing his acquiescence to
the importunity of others instead of his own ambition.[2]
Exposed as he was to the continued machinations of the royalists and
Levellers, both equally eager to precipitate him from the height to which
he had attained, Cromwell made it his great object to secure to himself the
attachment of the army. To it he owed the acquisition, through it alone
could he insure the permanence, of his power. Now, fortunately for this
purpose, that army, composed as never was army before or since, revered in
the lord-protector what it valued mostly in itself, the cant and practice
of religious enthusiasm. The superior officers, the subalterns, the
privates, all held themselves forth as professors of godliness. Among them
every public breach of morality was severely punished; the exercises of
religious worship
[Footnote 1: See instances in Bates, Elenc. 344; Cowley, 95; Ludlow, i.
207; Whitelock, 656; State Trials, v. 1131, 1199.]
[Footnote 2: See Ludlow, i. 272; ii. 13, 14, 17.]
were of as frequent recurrence as those of military duty;[1] in council,
the officers always opened the proceedings with extemporary prayer; and to
implore with due solemnity the protection of the Lord of Hosts, was held
an indispensable part of the preparation for battle. Their cause they
considered the cause of God; if they fought, it was for his glory; if
they conquered, it was by the might of his arm. Among these enthusiasts,
Cromwell, as he held the first place in rank, was also pre-eminent in
spiritual gifts.[2] The fervour with which he prayed, the unction with
which he preached, excited their admiration and tears. They looked on him
as the favourite of God, under the special guidance of the Holy Spirit, and
honoured with communications from heaven; and he, on his part, was careful,
by the piety of his language, by the strict decorum of his court, and by
his zeal for the diffusion of godliness, to preserve and strengthen such
impressions. In minds thus disposed, it was not difficult to create
a persuasion that the final triumph of "their cause" depended on the
authority of the general under whom they had conquered; while the full
enjoyment of that religious freedom which they so highly prized rendered
them less jealous of the arbitrary power which he occasionally
[Footnote 1: "The discipline of the army was such that a man would not be
suffered to remain there, of whom we could take notice he was guilty of
such practices."--Cromwell's speech to parliament in 1654. It surprised
strangers.--Certa singulis diebus tum fundendis Deo precibus, tum audiendis
Dei praeconiis erant assignata tempora.--Parallelum Olivae apud Harris,
iii. 12. E certo ad ogni modo, che le Truppe vivono con tanta esatezza,
come se fossero fraterie de' religiosi.--Sagredo, MS.]
[Footnote 2: Religioso al estremo nell' esteriore, predica con eloquenza ai
soldati, li persuade a vivere secondo le legge d' Iddio, e per render più
efficace la persuasione, si serve ben spesso delle lagrime, piangendo più
li peccati altrui, che li proprii.--Ibid. See also Ludlow, iii. 111.]
assumed. In his public speeches, he perpetually reminded them that, if
religion was not the original cause of the late civil war, yet, God "soon
brought it to that issue;" that amidst the strife of battle, and the
difficulties and dangers of war, the reward to which they looked was
freedom of conscience; that this freedom to its full extent they enjoyed
under his government, though they could never obtain it till they had
placed the supreme authority in his hands.[1] The merit which he thus
arrogated to himself was admitted to be his due by the great body of the
saints; it became the spell by which he rendered them blind to his ambition
and obedient to his will; the engine with which he raised, and afterwards
secured, the fabric of his greatness.
On the subject of civil freedom, the protector could not assume so bold
a tone. He acknowledged, indeed, its importance; it was second only to
religious freedom; but if second, then, in the event of competition, it
ought to yield to the first. He contended that, under his government, every
provision had been made for the preservation of the rights of individuals,
so far as was consistent with the safety of the whole nation. He had
reformed the Chancery, he had laboured to abolish the abuses of the law, he
had placed learned and upright judges on the bench, and he had been careful
in all ordinary cases that impartial justice should be administered between
the parties. This indeed was true; but it was also true that by his orders
men were arrested and committed without lawful cause; that juries
were packed; that prisoners, acquitted at their trial, were sent into
confinement beyond the
[Footnote 1: See in particular his speech to his second parliament, printed
by Henry Hills, 1654.]
jurisdiction of the courts; that taxes had been raised without the
authority of parliament; that a most unconstitutional tribunal, the high
court of justice, had been established; and that the majors-general had
been invested with powers the most arbitrary and oppressive.[1] These acts
of despotism put him on his defence; and in apology he pleaded, as every
despot will plead, reasons of state, the necessity of sacrificing a part to
preserve the whole, and his conviction, that a "people blessed by God,
the regenerated ones of several judgments forming the flock and lambs
of Christ, would prefer their safety to their passions, and their real
security to forms." Nor was this reasoning addressed in vain to men who had
surrendered their judgments into his keeping, and who felt little for the
wrongs of others, as long as such wrongs were represented necessary for
their own welfare.
Some writers have maintained that Cromwell dissembled in religion as well
as in politics; and that, when he condescended to act the part of the
saint, he assumed for interested purposes a character which he otherwise
despised. But this supposition is contradicted by the uniform tenor of his
life. Long before he turned his attention to the disputes between the king
and the parliament, religious enthusiasm had made a deep impression on his
mind;[2] it continually manifested itself during his long career, both in
the senate and the field; and it was strikingly displayed in his speeches
and prayers on the last evening of his
[Footnote 1: "Judge Rolles," says Challoner, "was shuffled out of his
place. Three worthy lawyers were sent to the Tower. It cost them fifty
pounds a-piece for pleading a client's cause. One Portman was imprisoned
two or three years without cause. Several persons were taken out of their
beds, and carried none knows whither."--Burton's Diary, iv. 47.
[Footnote 2: Warwick, 249.]
life. It should, however, be observed, that he made his religion harmonize
with his ambition. If he believed that the cause in which he had embarked
was the cause of God, he also believed that God had chosen him to be the
successful champion of that cause. Thus the honour of God was identified
with his own advancement, and the arts, which his policy suggested, were
sanctified in his eyes by the ulterior object at which he aimed--the
diffusion of godliness, and the establishment of the reign of Christ among
mankind.[1]
[Footnote 1: The Venetian ambassador observes that during the protectorate
London wore the appearance of a garrison town, where nothing was to be seen
but the marching of soldiers, nothing to be heard but the sound of drums
and trumpets. Il decoro et grandezza di Londra ha molto cangiato di faccia,
la nobiltà, che la rendeva conspicua, sta divisa per la campagna, et la
delecatezza della corte la più sontuosa et la più allegre del mondo,
frequentata da principali dame, et abundante nelli più scelti
trattenementi, e cangiata al presente in una perpetua marchia et
contramarchia, in un incessante strepito di tamburri, e di trembe, et in
stuoio numerosi di soldati et officiali diversi ai posti.--Sagredo. See
also an intercepted letter in Thurloe, ii. 670.]
Belloc-Lingard - The History of England - CHAPTER VI.: THE PROTECTORATE.