. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 OLIVEE CROMWELL. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. T. HEADLEY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "NAPOLEON AND HIS MARSHALS," " THE SACRED MOUNTAINS, 
 "WASHINGTON AND HIS GENERALS," ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 BAKER AND SCRIBNER, 
 
 36 PARK ROW AND 145 NASSAU STREET 
 
 1848. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1818, by 
 
 BAKER AND SCRIBNER, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York 
 
 C. W. BENEDN T, 
 
 Slereolyp/r and Printer, 
 11 Spruce street 
 
TO 
 
 REV. J. 0. CHOULES, D.D. 
 
 AS ONE WHO HAS DONE MORE THAN ANY OTHER TO SPREAD IN 
 
 OUR COUNTRY RIGHT VIEWS OF THE CHARACTER OF 
 
 CROMWELL AND THE PURITANS, AND AS A TOKEN OF 
 
 HIGH PERSONAL ESTEEM AND REGARD, THIS 
 
 WORK IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Some may think that Carlyle's "Letters and Speeches 
 of Cromwell" render a life of him unnecessary, while, 
 in fact, that work was the only cause of my writing 
 this. A multitude of biographies have been written on Crom- 
 well, but not one based on the general view taken by Carlyle. 
 The letters and speeches of a man can never constitute his 
 biography, though they may give us a correct and complete 
 idea of his character. The letters and speeches of Washing- 
 ton, and his life, are two very different works. In the first 
 place, the narrative is broken up by the introduction of 
 letters and documents on various subjects, that must be 
 placed in chronological order. In the second place, events 
 are mere links, by which these are connected ; while in 
 biography, they are the writer's chief concern. In one 
 case, the writings of a man form the burden of a book; 
 in the other, his actions. The compiler of the former 
 cannot condense, while it is the chief business of the his- 
 torian of the latter to do so. Carlyle should, doubtless, 
 
viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 have written the life of Cromwell, and it was generally 
 expected of him ; but he declined doing it, saying, that he 
 left that work to others. 
 
 The second motive that prompted me to the undertaking, 
 was, that no American had ever yet given the world a biog- 
 raphy of this wonderful man. Writers, under almost every 
 monarchical government of Europe, have maligned him, 
 and it seems strange that the only pure republic in the 
 world — -a republic, too, based on his views, and traceable to his 
 efforts, should hitherto have allowed the character of its first 
 founder to be portrayed alone by enemies both to him and 
 to liberty. Puritanism and republicanism have always been, 
 in England, synonymous with hypocrisy and rebellion, and 
 hence, her writers can find scarcely a redeemable trait in 
 Cromwell's character. But tve regard them in a very differ- 
 ent light — indeed, are the only people whose institutions are 
 grounded in them ; and yet, we permit the very man who 
 established both, to be insulted and traduced, without 
 saying a word in his defence. It is high time republican 
 movements in Europe had other historians besides the sub- 
 jects of monarchical governments. But for Cromwell's 
 efforts and success, it is very doubtful whether the Puritans 
 on this side of the water would have ventured on a contest 
 with the mother country — at all events, the great questions 
 of constitutional and personal liberty, which he settled, have 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 been the foundation of every revolution for the emanci- 
 pation of man, which has since taken place. That as an 
 American, I should wish to defend the founder of the. first 
 true commonwealth, and expose the slanders that have been 
 heaped upon him, is most natural. 
 
 I have endeavored to give, in connection with his life, a 
 condensed history of the English revolution, from its com- 
 mencement to its close. I could have written two volumes 
 more easily than one ; for the labor of condensing has been 
 greater than a freer and more natural narrative would have 
 been. The English biographies are taken up too much 
 with minor events, for readers this side of the water; and 
 are interesting solely to Englishmen. I have attempted to 
 give the leading and striking features, and at the same time 
 make clear and plain every step of the revolutionary move- 
 ment. It was impossible, of course, in such a work, to go 
 into a minute history of the civil government, or of religious 
 sects — these questions belonging to the historian rather than 
 to the biographer. 
 
 That there is room enough for difference of opinion re- 
 specting historical facts, I am well aware ; for there proba- 
 bly never was a period about which writers disagree so 
 entirely. Authority for almost any statement, however 
 ridiculous, can be found. Amid the endless contradic- 
 tions, therefore, which met me at every step, T was 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 compelled to use my own judgment — this, I need not say, 
 has ever leaned towards Cromwell, and against those who 
 had every motive to traduce him, and every temptation to 
 be prejudiced. I mention this, that those who have studied 
 the subject less, may not be surprised to find many of my 
 statements rebutted by very good testimony. As no two 
 English authorities agree, it is not to be expected that I can 
 agree with all. 
 
 It is a very easy matter to deny historical facts, and find 
 some proof for the assertion of incorrectness. One has but 
 to cast his eye over our Mexican war, to see how difficult 
 it is to get at the truth, and how diametrically opposite is 
 even the testimony of eye-witnesses. Friends and foes 
 never give the same account of a matter. Many criticisms 
 of this kind have been passed on my Napoleon and Wash- 
 ington, and yet it is a curious fact, that in every instance 
 which has come under my notice, the critic has selected 
 events about which there never has been, to my knowledge, 
 any controversy among historians, and 2 msse d °y mooted 
 points, on which a strong case might have been made out. 
 
 Such is the difference between reading history for amuse- 
 ment and instruction, and studying it, with a view solely to 
 its correctness. 
 
 I have had no religious creed to establish in this work ; 
 and, hence, have avoided discussing the question of Puritan- 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 ism and Episcopacy. I regard the struggle as one of civil 
 and religious liberty, and not a contest about creeds. 
 The latter, it is true, occupied a prominent part in the 
 English revolution ; but it was between those who were 
 equally higoted, and had, finally, to be overthrown. 
 Episcopacy was no more intolerant than Presbyterian- 
 ism — they both loved temporal power, and abused it, and 
 were both opposed to Cromwell. It is sad to find Ameri- 
 cans so wedded to creeds, that they can forget entirely 
 the great question of liberty, which Jay at the bottom of 
 the Puritan struggle, and think only of the contests 
 respecting church government. It is sadder yet to find 
 them so faithless to the principles of the republic under 
 which they live — so recreant to their patriotic sires, as to de- 
 fend the course of Laud and Charles I. When a man's 
 bigotry makes him slander the land of his birth, he has 
 passed beyond the bounds of argument. Episcopalians, and 
 Presbyterians were both intolerant, and both went down ; but 
 the principles and virtues of the two churches — these could not 
 be effected by outward circumstances, and rose again to life 
 and action. Against the doctrines of neither have I any- 
 thing to say ; but against the oppressions of both, much ; 
 especially the latter. 
 
 In quoting from letters, I have invariably extracted from 
 Carlvle's collection, because he has modernized the spelling 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and pointing, and thus made them more intelligible.* I have 
 not referred as often or as particularly to authority, as I 
 might have done, since there are so many different edi- 
 tions of many of the works, that it would only confuse the 
 reader. Thurloe's State Papers, Rushworth, Whitelocke, 
 Clarendon, Vaughan, Godwin, Dugdale, Guizot, both his 
 Revolution and Memoirs, Perfect Politician, Mrs. Hutchinson, 
 Oliver Cromwell's Memoirs, Forster's Statesmen of the Com- 
 monwealth, Hume, D'Aubigne, Southey, D 'Israeli's Life of 
 Charles I., Neal's History of Puritans, and many other 
 works have been consulted, in writing this biography. Mr. 
 Herbert has helped me by his knowledge of the battle- 
 fields. 
 
 Some may object to the battle-scenes of this work, as 
 they have to those of Washington and his Generals — saying 
 that I foster a spirit of war. To such, I have but one an- 
 swer to make-^-the spirit of rebellion against oppression, and 
 deadly hostility to it, I design to foster, and only hope to 
 succeed. When men's sensibilities become so delicate that 
 they cannot reflect, without horror, on the struggles of brave 
 men for freedom, and can sit under the broad tree of liberty, 
 
 * Mr. Wiley's edition of the Letters and Speeches of Cromwell, 
 though otherwise excellent, cannot be relied on in its dates — it is full 
 of errors. A thorough revision of the work, in this respect, is highly- 
 necessary. I understand it has now fallen into Mr. Putnam's hands, 
 which is a sufficient guarantee that it will be correct hereafter. 
 
INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 planted by their forefathers, and watered with their blood, 
 and look off on the fair heritage won by their good swords, 
 with no other feelings but pity for their erroneous ideas 
 about war, and of wonder at their cruelty, they have 
 become too ethereal for this world, and too transcendental 
 to be useful, As Cromwell said of liberty of conscience, 
 "I quarrel with no man's conscience;" but God forbid 
 that the honor or liberty of my country should ever be 
 entrusted to their hands. War, in itself, is the greatest 
 curse of man ; but waged for liberty, his highest duty and 
 honor. To me, the great question of freedom, which was 
 battled out under Cromwell, afterwards under Washington, 
 and then under Bonaparte, and which is now shaking 
 Europe to its centre, is the question of the age. The rise 
 and progress of each struggle possesses to me more in- 
 terest than all other events put together. Men have 
 always been compelled to hew their way, with their swords, 
 to freedom. They have never dreamed nor poetized them- 
 selves into it, and never will. It is a curious fact, and one 
 of the anomalies our race presents, that those among us 
 most opposed to war, are the very class whose ultra notions 
 of freedom — nay, radicalism on all questions of Church and 
 State, which they push with all the energy they possess — 
 must, just so far as successful, produce civil war and blood- 
 shed. At this very moment, their progress in Europe is 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 shaking the continent from limit to limit, with the bustling 
 preparations of war. * 
 
 So long as oppression is maintained by physical power, it 
 must be overthrown by physical power. Moral power is 
 useless, only as it causes a transfer of the former. Civil 
 and politcal liberty have never advanced, except through 
 revolutions. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Interest of the Subject. Birth and Family of Cromwell — His 
 Genealogy — Early Life — Enters Cambridge — His Marriage — 
 Settles down on a Farm for Ten Years — His Conversion — Hy- 
 pochondria — Chosen Member of Parliament. Synopsis of 
 Events that Preceded His Appearance in Public — Causes of 
 the English Revolution — Charles I. Ascends the Throne — As- 
 sembling of Parliament, 1625 — Discussion of Grievances — Dis- 
 solutionVand Sudden Re-assembling of Parliament — Impeach- 
 ment of Buckingham — Dissolution of Parliament — Tyranny of 
 Charles — Parliament of 1623", to which Cromwell Is Elected — 
 Petition of Rights — Animated Discussion in Parliament — Its 
 Dissolution. Cromwell Returns to His Farm — Murder of 
 Buckingham — His Character — Despotism of Charles — Re-as- 
 sembling of Parliament, 1629 — Speech of Cromwell — Dissolu- 
 tion of Parliament, and Increased Tyranny of the King — Perse- 
 cution of the Puritans — Laud — Trial of Straffoi-d — The Puritans 
 — Trial of Hampden — Laud's Attempts to Force His Reformed 
 Liturgy on the Scotch — Effects — Cromwell in the Fens — Letter 
 to his Cousin — His Return to Parliament — Character at the 
 Time 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM THE LONG PARLIAMENT TO THE FIRST CIVIL WAR, 1640—1642. 
 
 Short Parliament — Second Invasion of Scotland — Meeting of the 
 Long Parliament — Its Stern Aspect — Impeachment of Laud — 
 Trial and Death of Strafford — His Character — Personal Ap- 
 pearance of Cromwell — Appointed on a Private Committee — 
 Defends the Poor — The King Visits Scotland — Grand Petition 
 and Remonstrance— Stormy Debate upon It — Cromwell's View 
 of It — Withdrawal of the Bishops — Their Impeachment — At- 
 tempt to Seize the Five Members — Excitement Caused by It — 
 The King Leaves Whitehall never to Return except as a 
 Prisoner— Recapitulation — Cromwell a Patriot ... 33 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE FIRST CIVIL WAR — FROM 1642 TO THE CAMPAIGN OF 1644. 
 
 Activity of Cromwell — Preparations for War — The King Erects 
 His Standard — Battle of Edgehill — Cromwell's Opinion of It — 
 Resolves to Raise His Ironsides — Their Character — Fight at 
 Brentford — Enthusiasm of the Citizens of London — Cromwell 
 Takes Croyland, Lowestoff, Stamfoi'd and Burleigh House — 
 Fight at Grantham — Fight at Gainsborough — Death of Hamp- 
 den — His last Hours and Burial— His Character — The Aid of 
 Scotland Sought — Mob of Women in Loudon — Battle of New- 
 bury — Cromwell Governor of Ely — Ratification of the Cove- 
 nant — Winceby Fight — Religious Character of the Revolution - 52 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE EXTRAORDINARY CAMPAIGN OF 1644. 
 
 Execution of Laud and Others — Character of Laud — Defeat of 
 the Irish Regiments by Fairfax — The Scotch Enter England — 
 Cromwell Joins them before York — The King Defeats Waller- 
 Rupert Enters York — Battle of Marston Moor — Cromwell's 
 Ironsides — Cromwell's Letter — Essex Defeated, and his Army 
 Compelled to Surrender — Success of Montrose in Scotland — 
 Second Battle of Newbury — Cromwell Accuses Manchester in 
 Parliament — Is Accused in Turn — Self-denying Ordinance — 
 The Remodeling of the Army — Its Character - - - 86 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1645 TO THE SPRING OF 1646. 
 
 Cromwell's Commission Extended — Affair of Islip Bridge — 
 Bletchington House, Witney — Bampton Bush — The Main 
 Army in Motion — Cromwell Sent to Cambridge — Recalled and 
 Joins Fairfax — Battle of Naseby — Cromwell's Letters to the 
 House of Commons — Cromwell Relieves Leicester — Takes 
 BVidgewater and Puts Goring to Flight — Disperses the Club- 
 men — Storming of Bristol — Cromwell takes Devizes, Berkley 
 Castle and Winchester — Storm and Sacking of Basing I£ouse — 
 Cromwell Defeats Lord Wentworth — .loins Fairfax and/Takea 
 Dartmouth — Defeats Lord Hopton — Movements of the King, 
 meanwhile — Defeat of Lord' A stley — Negotiations again Opened 
 with Parliament — The King Flies to the Scottish Camp - 116 
 
CONTENTS. XV11 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BETWEEN THE CIVIL WARS FROM THE SPRING OF 1646, TO THAT OF 1648 
 
 Struggle between the Presbyterians and Independents — Negotia- 
 tions with the King — Bargain of Parliament with Scotland — 
 The King Given up — The Presbyterians Resolve to Overthrow 
 Cromwell, and the Independents — Successful Plot of Cromwell 
 to Carry off the King — The Army Refuses to Disband, and Re- 
 monstrates with Parliament — Marches on London — Consterna- 
 tion of the People — Expulsion of the Eleven Members, and 
 Occupation of London by the Troops — Triumph of the Inde- 
 pendents — New Character of the Revolution — Slanderers of 
 Cromwell — Interview of the King with his Children — Noble 
 Attempt of Cromwell to Induce the King to Accept the Throne 
 under Restrictions which should Secure the Liberties of the 
 People — Denounced by the Army for It — Discovers the Treach- 
 ery of the King — His Flight — Mutiny in the Army — Quelled by 
 Cromwell — Treaty of the King with the Scotch— Anger of the 
 Parliament, which Resolves to Settle the Nation without Him — 
 Cromwell Consults the Leaders as to the Form of Government 
 to be Adopted — Commencement of the Insurrection — Mob in 
 Loudon — Presbyterians again Obtain the Ascendency, and 
 Cromwell Departs for Wales — His Previous Sickness — His 
 Son Richard Contracts a Marriage — Prayer-meeting in the 
 Army 147 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SECOND CIVIL WAR. 1648. 
 
 Cromwell Marches to Subdue the Insurrection in Wales — Invests 
 Pembroke Castle — Fairfax Drives the Insurgents into Colches- 
 ter — Lambert, sent North to Retard the Scotch — Cromwell 
 Reduces Pembroke, and Starts Northward — His Unparalleled 
 March — Joins Lambert— Battle of Preston — Enters Edinburgh 
 — Proceedings in Parliament — Attempt to Make a New Treaty 
 with the King, and Destroy Cromwell and the Independents — 
 Stormy Debate in Parliament — Army Marches on London — 
 Pride's Purge — Return of Cromwell — Course of the Independ- 
 ents Defended 199 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 
 
 The King Brought from Hurst Castle to Windsor — His Impeach- 
 ment — Creation of the High Court of Justice to Try Him — 
 
XV111 CONTENTS. 
 
 Westminster Hall during the Trial — Address of President 
 Bradsliaw — Interruption of the Court by Downs — Conduct of 
 Cromwell — Sentence of the King — His Agitation, and Efforts 
 to be Heard — Interview with His Children — Attempts to save 
 Charles — Conduct of Cromwell in signing the Death-Warrant — 
 The King's Execution — Cromwell's Soliloquy over the Corpse 
 — Defence of Him against His Biographers — Ireton Chief 
 Actor — Defence of Parliament — Character of the Kins; - 234 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CAMPAIGN IN IRELAND — FROM 1649 TO MAY, 1650. 
 
 Establishment of a Republic — Milton Chosen Secretary of the 
 Executive Council — The Levellers — Cromwell Appointed to 
 Command the Expedition to Ireland — Insurrection Quelled 
 by Him — Pomp and Splendor of His Departure — Marriage of 
 His Son Richard — Arrives at Dublin — Cruelties of the Irish — 
 Storming and Massacre of Drogheda — Of Wexford — History of 
 His Movements — Recalled to Resist the Scotch Invasion — 
 Chai-acter of the Campaign — Defence of Cromwell — Final Set- 
 tlement of Ireland 261 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 INVASION OF SCOTLAND. 1650 1651. 
 
 Cromwell Lands in England — His Reception — Accepts Command 
 of the Army Destined for Scotland — Charles II. — His Base 
 Conduct — Cromwell Marches North — Enters Scotland — Strives 
 in Vain to Provoke Lesley to Give Battle — Lambert Wounded 
 — Movements Around Edinburgh — Battle of Dunbar — Crom- 
 well Invests Edinburgh Castle — Marches to Glasgow — Inter- 
 views with a Scotch Minister — Outflanks the Scotch at Stirling, 
 and Compels them to Evacuate the Place — The Scotch Invade 
 England — Pursued by Cromwell — Battle of Worcester — Re- 
 view of Cromwell's Career 303 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 from the battle of worcester to the protectorate 1651 
 
 to 1653. 
 
 Cromwell Moves that Parliament Fix a Day for its Dissolution-^. 
 The Rump Parliament — Cromwell's Course Defended — Death 
 of Ireton — Malice of Cromwell's Biographers — Navigation Act 
 — War with the Dutch — Victories of Blake — Attempt of Par- 
 
CONTENTS. XIX. 
 
 liament to Crush the Army and Cromwell — Treachery of 
 Members — Dispersion of Parliament by Cromwell and His 
 Musketeers — Defence of the Measure — Barebones Parliament 
 — Its Extraordinary Character — Dissolves Itself — The Dutch 
 Sue for Peace — Cromwell Proclaimed Lord Protector - 343 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PROTECTORATE. 
 
 From December, 1653, to the Second Protectorate Parliament, 
 September, 1657 — Ordinances Issued by Cromwell — Henry 
 Cromwell goes to Ireland — Character of the New Government 
 — Peace Abroad — Respect Shown to the Protector — Sycophancy 
 of Dr. South — Assembling of Parliament — Its Unjustifiable and 
 Dangerous Proceedings — Noble Address of Cromwell — Sub- 
 mission of Parliament — Its Acts — Cromwell Thrown from His 
 Carriage — Death of His Mother — The West Indian Expedi- 
 tion — Dissolution of Parliament — Cromwell's Arbitrary Course 
 — The Major-Generals — Persecution of the Vaudois, and Noble 
 Interference of Cromwell — Milton — Cromwell Champion of 
 Protestantism — Assembling of the New Parliament - - 370 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FROM THE SECOND PROTECTORATE PARLIAMENT TO THE DEATH OP 
 CROMWELL, SEPT., 1656, TO SEPT., 1658. 
 
 Opening of Parliament — Members Rejected — Nay lor and the 
 Quakers — Victory of Blake and Montague — Sindercombe Con- 
 spiracy — Narrow Escape of Cromwell — Petition and Advice — 
 Cromwell Offered the Crown — Conferences on the Subject — 
 Finally Rejects It — Statements of His Enemies — Conspiracies 
 — Marriage of His Two Daughters — Re-assembling of Parlia- 
 ment — Refuses to Acknowledge the New House Provided^for 
 in " Petitions and Advice" — Cromwell's Speech — The Madness 
 of Parliament Encourages Conspirators — Dissolved by Crom- 
 well — His New Life-Guard — Family Afflictions — His Last 
 Sickness and Death — His Character 401 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Interest of the Subject. Birth and Family of Cromwell — His Geneal- 
 ogy — Early Life — Enters Cambridge — His Marriage — Settles down 
 on a Farm for Ten Years — His Conversion — Hypochondria — Cho- 
 sen Member of Parliament. Synopsis of Events that Preceded 
 His Appearance in Public — Causes of the English Revolution — 
 Charles I. Ascends the Throne — Assembling of Parliament, 1625 
 — Discussion of Grievances — Dissolution and Sudden Re-assem- 
 bling of Parliament — Impeachment of Buckingham — Dissolution 
 of Parliament — Tyranny of Charles — Parliament of 102S, to Which 
 Cromwell is Elected — Petition of Rights — Animated Discussion in 
 Parliament — Its Dissolution. Cromwell Returns to His Farm — 
 Murder of Buckingham — His Character — Despotism of Charles — 
 Re-assembling of Parliament, 1629 — Speech of Cromwell — Disso- 
 lution of Parliament, and Increased Tyranny of the King — Perse- 
 cution of the Puritans — Laud — Trial of Strafford — The Puritans — 
 Trial of Hampden — Laud's Attempts to Force His Reformed Liturgy 
 on the Scotch — Effects — Cromwell in the Fens — Letter to His 
 Cousin — His Return to Parliament — Character at the Time. 
 
 Nothing possesses deeper interest to the thoughtful 
 man, than the history of a struggle between an oppressed 
 people and their powerful rulers. All that is great and 
 noble in our nature, is called into action, and we 
 then witness the lofty patriotism, free offering of one's 
 self, life, and fortunes on a common altar, and that 
 inspired courage which make us wonder at our race. 
 Especially do we love to trace the progress of one all 
 1 
 
2 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 powerful intellect, making his steady way through the 
 chaos or anarchy that surrounds him — gradually mould- 
 ing and wielding the raging elements, until at length 
 he presents in himself the product of the struggle, and 
 holds in his hands the hopes of a trusting people. So 
 also the strong and excited workings of the human mind 
 — its bewildered and conflicting views, as old forms and 
 institutions are breaking to pieces, and new ones rising 
 in their places, cannot be witnessed without the liveliest 
 sympathy. 
 
 Perhaps of all revolutions, none except our own pos- 
 sess stronger claims to the attention of Americans, than 
 the one in which Cromwell bore so distinguished a part. 
 The noble principles which lay at the bottom of it — the 
 conscience, as well as enthusiasm, which bore it on, and- 
 more than all, the direct influence it had upon our own 
 — indeed, being the parent of it, and thus of the revo- 
 lutions which have since followed in Europe — place it 
 before all others. Great constitutional rights were then 
 for the first time settled, and the human mind put on the 
 right track to recover the only liberty worth having. In 
 such a cause, the valorous deeds of Puritan freemen, 
 and the bloody battle field itself, can be contemplated 
 without horror, and pondered on with other feelings than 
 those of admiration for courageous and daring men. 
 
 Of all heroes Cromwell possesses the most problemati- 
 cal character. A mystery shrouds him and will shroud 
 him to the end of time. This results from two causes — 
 first, from the doubts and uncertainty, which the contrast 
 between his words, letters, and speeches, and the ac- 
 
1599.] HIS GENEALOGY. 3 
 
 counts we have always regarded as history, is calculated 
 to produce ; and secondly, from the strange religious en- 
 thusiasm which mastered him, and rendered . him an 
 enigma even to his most intimate friends. 
 
 Oliver Cromwell was born at Huntingdon, in St. 
 John's Parish, on the 25th of April, 1599. His father, 
 Robert Cromwell, was the youngest son of Sir Henry 
 Cromwell, knight, who lived in the style of a noble in the 
 mansion of Hinchinbrook, near Huntingdon, and grand- 
 son of the famous Richard Cromwell, knighted by Henry 
 VIIL, for his prowess in the field.* His mother was 
 daughter of William Steward, a wealthy man, whose son 
 was also a knight. Her first husband, William Lynne, 
 Esquire, lived but a year after their marriage, and was 
 buried with his only child in Ely Cathedral. Robert 
 Cromwell married the widow, by whom he had ten 
 
 * On May day, 1540, a brilliant tournament at Westminster opens 
 its lists before us, in which Richard Cromwell, and others, had pro- 
 claimed themselves to France, Flanders, and Scotland, the defenders 
 of the honor and rights of their English King. Henry VIIL looks on, 
 and when Sir Richard Cromwell has struck down challenger after 
 challenger, with undaunted arm, forth from his deep broad chest, rolls 
 out the royal laugh of Henry. " Formerly thou wast my Dick, but 
 hereafter thou shalt be my diamond." Then from the finger of majesty 
 drops a diamond ring, which Sir Richard picks up, * * * and such a 
 ring did Oliver Cromwell wear, when he left his farm at Ely, to bear 
 more formidable arms at the challenge of a king. (Vide Forster's 
 Statesmen of the Commonwealth of England.— Ed. by Rev. Dr. Choules, 
 page 393. It is also asserted that Oliver was related to Thomas Crom- 
 well, Earl of Essex, minister of Henry VIIL, and called "Malleus 
 Monachoru?7i," a mauler of monasteries. 
 
4 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 children — Oliver, afterwards Protector, being the fifth. 
 There were but three sons in all, of whom Henry lived 
 to be only twenty years of age, while Robert survived 
 his birth but a few months. Thus, of this large family, 
 Oliver became the only male representative. 
 
 From this succinct account, it will be seen that Oliver 
 was no base born man. His grandfather and uncle, on 
 his father's side, were both knights, while an uncle on 
 the mother's side, had also the same rank. Other aunts 
 and uncles in that region were wealthy and honorable, 
 and he was connected, more or less remotely with several 
 distinguished families. Bred among gentlemen, and edu- 
 cated as the son of a gentleman, he was far from being 
 the rude, uncouth person nis enemies represent him to 
 have been.* 
 
 His father's estate lay along the banks of the Ouse, 
 and yielded an income of some $1500, American cur- 
 rency — a sum in those times, equal to treble that amount 
 now. The estate and mansion of Hinchinbrook, are at 
 present the seat of the Earl of Sandwich. 
 
 But whether Oliver Cromwell was the son of a king 
 or a carpenter, matters but little, for he made himself a 
 place and acquired a title, far superior to those of any 
 monarch who has succeeded him on the English throne. 
 Of his boyhood but little is known — uncertain tradition 
 relates some incidents which may or may not be true.f 
 
 * Milton says in his prose works, " Est Oliverius Cromwellus genere 
 nobili atque illustri ortus : nomen republica olim sub regibus bene 
 administrata clarum, religione simul orthodoxa vel restitute turn pri- 
 mum apud nos vel stabilita clarius." 
 
 f These incidents are some of them curious—one asserts that the 
 
1617.] EARLY DISSIPATION. 5 
 
 The standing of his uncle at Hinchinbrook may be 
 inferred from the fact that King James, when on his way 
 from Scotland to assume the crown of England, stopped 
 two nights with him, and was entertained in the most 
 sumptuous manner, much to the injury of the old knight's 
 purse. 
 
 When seventeen years of age he was entered, April 23, 
 at Sidney Sussex College, the same day on which Shak- 
 speare died. The next year, 1617, he lost both his father 
 and his grandfather on the mother's side. These sad 
 events cut short his education at Cambridge, and he re- 
 turned to his father's house to take possession of the 
 estate, of which he was now heir. There is a tradition 
 that he went soon after to London to study law ; and 
 while there, lived a wild and dissipated life^/ Notwith- 
 standing the denial of Oliver Cromwell, a descendant of 
 the family, and of Mr. Carlyle, there is good evidence for 
 believing this to be true. Cotemporaries speak of it as a 
 thing well known, and among them Richard Baxter. 
 
 devil presided at his birth, and left his figure on the hangings of the 
 curtains around his bed. Another, that a monkey once carried him on 
 the roof of the house, and brought him down again safely, to the no 
 little consternation of the family. Once he was saved from drowning 
 by a curate, who afterwards repented the act. At another time, he flog- 
 ged the little Duke of York, afterwards Charles I. f But more strange 
 than all, he saw in his boyhood, once, a spectre in the shape of a wo- 
 man, who slowly withdrawing the curtains from his bed, toid him 
 that he was to be the greatest man in England./ It is laughable to see 
 how much is made out of his school-boy declamations, and to read the 
 account of his smearing his friends with dirt on a certain occasion, told 
 in the most serious manner. His robbery of birds* nests and orchards 
 rests on the same foundation with all the other anecdotes — mere gossip. 
 
6 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Nor should this seem strange, in one of his wild inde- 
 pendent character, and strong passions. The period of 
 dissipation, however, was of short duration ; for as he 
 settled down into manhood, these faults and errors were 
 thrown aside. If he was in London the year after his 
 return from college, he doubtless witnessed the execution 
 of Sir Walter Raleigh — a scene that furnished him food 
 for reflection. 
 
 In 1620, then twenty-one years of age, he was mar- 
 ried, in London, to Elizabeth Bourchier, daughter of Sir 
 James Bourchier, Knight. Returning home with his 
 wife, he settled down as a staid farmer ; and for nearly 
 ten years disappears from history. In the changeless 
 routine of an agricultural life he, doubtless, passed his 
 days. The next year after his marriage a son was born 
 to him, named Robert ; but how long he lived, and what 
 became of him, is unknown. Two years from this time 
 a second son, Oliver, was born, of whose future history 
 we are also left in the dark. This much only can be 
 ascertained, that he drew his sword in battle beside his 
 father, and fell almost on the threshold of that great 
 contest. 
 
 During this period of ten years, Cromwell doubtless 
 became converted to Christianity. Nothing certain is 
 known ; but vague rumors have come down to us of his 
 being hypochondriacal and filled with superstitious no- 
 tions — sending for his physician at midnight, and having 
 strange fancies about the town cross. Ill health may 
 have produced these fantasies ; but, doubtless, the most 
 correct solution will be found in the agitated state of his 
 
1628.] ELECTED TO PARLIAMENT. 7 
 
 mind respecting religious truths. We have often beheld, 
 in imagination, this young and solemn farmer walking 
 gloomily beside the Ouse, pondering on that dread eter- 
 nity to which he was hastening, and feeding the enthu- 
 siasm which afterwards carried him triumphantly over 
 so many battle fields. The history of these four years 
 would throw a flood of light on his after career. 
 
 The doctrines of the Puritans had already taken deep 
 hold of the public mind, and Cromwell, among others, 
 suffered under strong convictions of sin. At what time 
 he came out from this "blackness of darkness," is not 
 known ; but when he appears again on the surface of 
 history we find him a strong Calvinist and thorough 
 reformer ; and his house becomes a great resort for non- 
 conformists and all who are persecuted by the estab- 
 lished church. 
 
 Among those of elevated rank and worth, adopting 
 the same views, were John Hampden, Pym, Lord Brook, 
 Lord Say, Lord Montague, and others. 
 
 In 1627 Hinchinbrook passed out of the Cromwell 
 family, being bought by the Montagues for £3000. 
 Old Sir Oliver Cromwell retired on some land still left 
 him of his once fine estate, and his seat in parliament 
 became vacant. Young Oliver, his nephew, however, 
 was soon after returned member from Huntingdon, and 
 took his seat March 17, 1627-8. This was the third 
 parliament of Charles ; and that great movement, which 
 was to convulse England and overturn her throne, had 
 already begun. What Cromwell thought of the collision 
 between the king and his parliament, or what part he 
 
8 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 took in the divisions between the Puritans and the estab- 
 lished church, can be inferred only from his after 
 career. 
 
 Having now brought Cromwell on the stage of public 
 life, we must go back a little and describe the events 
 that had been transpiring while this unknown youth, on 
 whose life hung such momentous results, was ripening 
 into manhood. The same sun which looked down on 
 his boyish sports, and afterwards on his quiet pursuits, be- 
 held also the gathering of elements which were to con- 
 vulse the realm. The English revolution was not a 
 sudden outbreak — a mere gust of passion — but a steady 
 growth. It is difficult to date its commencement; for 
 liberty usually keeps pace with civilization, and civi- 
 lization is gradual in its progress. The accession of 
 the Tudors, however, may be named as the point where 
 the great changes commenced ; for with them began the 
 humiliation of the barons, who alone served as checks to 
 arbitrary power. In England and on the Continent, 
 these rich feudal lords, with their numerous retainers, 
 stood between the king and his subjects, and for a long 
 time were the only defenders of liberty. But under the 
 strong hand of Henry VIII, and, afterwards, the skilful 
 policy of Elizabeth, they were completely crushed, and 
 kingly power for a while left untrammeled. Henry 
 VII. modified the feudal laws so that the nobility could 
 dispose of their fiefs, the sales of which, and also of the 
 rich domains of the church, afterwards given them by 
 Henry VIIL, caused a large transfer of property from 
 the higher nobility to the wealthy commoners. Eliza- 
 
CAUSES OF THE REVOLUTION. 9 
 
 beth, to avoid asking subsidies, which were repugnant 
 to her people, disposed also of a large extent of crown 
 lands, that were bought up by rich traders and thrifty 
 farmers. But in a commercial country the transfer of 
 wealth is the transfer of power, and so it proved in 
 England. The common people, in becoming land- 
 holders, rose in their own importance, and saw at once 
 the necessity of securing guaranties to the wealth they 
 had acquired. Something more than the word of a 
 king was needed to protect them from rapacious power. 
 The rights of property naturally grew out of its pos- 
 session, but to maintain those rights would encroach 
 on the royal prerogative, and did ; and here is the grand 
 source of the struggle between Charles and his parliament. 
 The cause of it can be reduced to the simplest ele- 
 ments. The higher nobility, becoming impoverished 
 through their extravagance, sold large portions of their 
 estates to the lower orders; Queen Elizabeth did the 
 same thing with the crown lands, to meet state expenses, 
 and thus so enriched them that the House of Commons 
 at length became three times as wealthy as the House ot 
 Lords. Trade and commerce helped to swell this vast 
 amount of wealth, which in turn naturally asked for 
 guaranties and securities — in short, to be placed under 
 well denned and just laws. The king not only refused 
 to be trammeled by such restrictions, but would not 
 submit to the encroachment on his power the demand 
 for them made. Hence, he and the commons came in 
 collision, and, as neither would yield, a rupture was 
 
10 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 inevitable, which kept widening till the throne and king 
 sunk in the gulf. 
 
 The Reformation, however, should not be overlooked 
 in estimating the causes which produced the English 
 revolution. Henry VIII. was not aware, when in his 
 pride he renounced all allegiance to the Pope of Rome, 
 that he was teaching his people to brook no tyranny of 
 opinion, from whatever source it came. Reforms must 
 advance or retrograde ; hence the people of England had 
 no sooner dared to reject the authority of the Roman 
 pontiff, than they began to question that of the king, in 
 religious matters. After renouncing the forms and 
 ceremonies of the papal church, it w r as only taking 
 another step to renounce those of the English church. 
 The first departure is always the most difficult. But 
 civil and religious rights were closely united; indeed, 
 they were inseparable ; and hence the maintenance of 
 one involved that of the other. The king and the 
 bishops could not enforce the laws of the church without 
 the aid of civil power; and the non-comformists soon 
 began to question the legitimacy and origin of that 
 power which would coerce them in matters of con- 
 science. 
 
 Thus, while the parliament, standing on the broad 
 basis of constitutional freedom, confronted the king, 
 the people everywhere were discussing the doctrine of 
 personal liberty. Although the great struggle com- 
 menced in parliament, it is very doubtful whether the 
 latter would have triumphed, if it had not been for this 
 religious element, which thus entered into it, and event- 
 
1625.] CHARLES ASCENDS THE THRONE. 11 
 
 ually absorbed all the rest. Great questions of state 
 became lost in those of conscience ; and what was begun 
 in defence of the worldly interests of the wealthy, ended 
 in the open avowal and maintenance of the religious 
 rights and liberty of the meanest peasant in the land. 
 
 While everything was tending to this result, Charles 
 E. came to the throne. Of a handsome face and person, 
 and possessing a kind heart, he had all the requisites of 
 a popular king. The daughter of the king of Spain was 
 selected as his bride by his father ; but insisting on going 
 himself to woo her, he obstinately refused to fulfil his 
 father's wishes, and returned without her. When the 
 news reached England, bonfires and illuminations, kin- 
 dled in every part of the land, attested the joy of the 
 people, who had not yet forgotten the persecutions of 
 Mary ; and hence looked with dread on a catholic queen. 
 He, however, mended matters but little when he soon 
 after married Henrietta, daughter of the king of France, 
 and a Bourbon. 
 
 No king ever ascended the throne under apparently 
 more favorable auspices than Charles. The people 
 were kindly disposed towards him, and he towards them, 
 and mutual confidence and good will promised to render 
 his reign both peaceful and happy. But he unfor- 
 tunately had imbibed the principles of government 
 carried out by Spain and other despotic governments of 
 Europe. Like England these had subdued the proud 
 barons who so long held the sovereigns in check, till the 
 throne had become supreme and its will law. But the 
 Reformation had made a different people of the Chris- 
 
12 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 tian inhabitants of England — a people that would in no 
 way tolerate the system of absolute monarchy. Charles, 
 therefore, labored under a great mistake, when he ascend- 
 ed the British throne. Designing to reign kindly and 
 well, he never dreamed that his subjects would distrust 
 his word or require guaranties of his good behavior. 
 
 THE FIRST PARLIAMENT. 
 
 He seemed in haste to assemble parliament in order 
 to express his kind intentions — and when it met, 1625, 
 he addressed it in terms of confidence and respect. 
 But such a parliament probably never before assem- 
 bled in England. Among the members were found 
 Sir Edward Coke, Francis Seymour, Dudley Digges, 
 John Elliot, Wentworth, Selden, Pym, and others ; men 
 of large capacity and unrivalled patriotism. Viewing 
 with alarm the unbounded power of the crown, and fore- 
 seeing the disasters that would befall their country un- 
 less it could be brought within constitutional limits, they 
 determined, at the outset, to take advantage of the king's 
 want of money to force him to a recognition of their 
 rights. England, at the time, was at war with Spain, 
 and Charles was embarrassed for want of funds to carry 
 it on. This the parliament knew, and so, instead oi 
 voting him the usual supplies, granted only the custom 
 duties for a year — amounting to £112,000. This, no 
 doubt, was mere mockery, so far as furnishing adequate 
 supplies was concerned, but it answered the purpose for 
 which it was intended, viz., to show the king and court 
 
1626.] SECOND PARLIAMENT. 13 
 
 that the commons of England had assembled to make a 
 contract, not obey orders. Certain grievances were to 
 be redressed, and certain rights acknowledged, before 
 they would release the monarch from the financial diffi- 
 culties that surrounded him. Past and future subsidies 
 came under its cognizance, the state of religion, the 
 repression of popery, and the protection of commerce — 
 in short, it reached every department of government. 
 The House of Lords refused to sanction the vote of the 
 house granting only the custom duties for a year, but 
 the latter would go no further until grievances were 
 redressed. The king, indignant at this attempt, as he 
 termed it, to compel him to act, thus encroaching on 
 his sovereignty, dissolved the parliament, determined to 
 govern without it. 
 
 Succeeding but poorly, however, in his efforts to 
 raise money, he in February again assembled it. 
 
 THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The first parliament asked for redress of grievances, 
 the second immediately impeached the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham, tne king's favorite, as the author of them. Charles 
 had taken measures to make this parliament more tract- 
 able, by keeping out of it the most popular orators, such 
 as Coke, Pym, Wentworth, Seymour, and others. The 
 Earl of Bristol, also, a personal enemy of Buckingham, 
 received no summons to attend. He complaining of 
 this neglect to the peers, the king sent the summons, 
 but with it an order to remain on his estates. The 
 
14 ©LIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 resolute earl again appealed to the House of Lords, hint- 
 ing that the liberty of all its members was involved in 
 the tyranny practised on him. For this the king im- 
 peached him of high treason; but the earl, nothing 
 daunted, impeached the Duke of Buckingham in turn. 
 The king had sagacity enough to discover that this 
 double impeachment, coming both from a peer of the 
 realm and from the representatives of the people, was 
 aimed as much against him as his favorite. Looking 
 upon it, therefore, not only as an encroachment on his 
 power but an insult to himself, he addressed a remon- 
 strance to the House of Commons, and at the same time 
 forbade the judges, to whom the House of Peers had 
 submitted certain legal questions touching the case of 
 the earl, to answer. 
 
 The judges obeyed, but the commons immediately 
 appointed eight of its members as commissioners to sup- 
 port the impeachment. A conference was held with 
 the House of Lords, but as soon as it was over, two of 
 the principal commissioners were sent to the tower for 
 insolence of speech. The commons, indignant at this 
 act of tyranny, refused to do anything till the commis- 
 sioners were set at liberty. Threats, remonstrances, 
 and promises were alike powerless, and the king was 
 compelled to yield. Defeated and baffled on every side, 
 and hearing that the commons were preparing a general 
 remonstrance, he summarily dissolved this parliament 
 also. Lord Arundel, whom he had been compelled to 
 set at liberty, was again, at the request of the House of 
 
1628.] THIRD PARLIAMENT. 15 
 
 Lords, put under arrest, the Earl of Bristol sent to the 
 tower, and Buckingham released. 
 
 Determined to be an absolute sovereign, like the other 
 monarchs of Europe, he could not see the spirit that 
 was abroad, and therefore rushed blindly on his own ruin. 
 A general loan was ordered, the sea-ports and maritime 
 districts commanded to furnish vessels (the first attempt 
 at ship money), passive obedience was preached by the 
 direction of the king; those who refused to grant the 
 money were thrown into prison ; the military were dis- 
 tributed over the kingdom ; the courts of justice over- 
 awed, and Charles I. seemed resolved to carry his doc- 
 trine of tyranny by one grand coup de main. But he 
 only awakened deeper indignation and hostility, and 
 nursed the fire he expected to quench. 
 
 In the meantime defeat attended the armies abroad — 
 the expedition against Rochelle and the isle of Rhe, com- 
 manded by Buckingham, proved a miserable failure. 
 More money must therefore be raised, and the king 
 unable to do it alone, again assembled parliament, March 
 17, 1628, and adopted a tone of great conciliation. 
 
 
 THIRD PARLIAMENT 
 
 This was the parliament in which Cromwell first 
 appeared as member for Huntingdon. 
 
 But the friendly aspect with which this parliament 
 opened, soon changed ; the commons, intent on having 
 their rights secured, first chastised the sycophant priests 
 Main waring, Sibthorpe, and others, and then drew up 
 
16 ' OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the famous " Petition of Rights."*' This was simply a bill 
 to guarantee acknowledged liberties, and check acknow- 
 ledged abuses ; but Charles thought his word was better 
 than all guaranties, and refused at first to have anything 
 to do with it. After a stormy time, however, it passed ; 
 and, wherever the joyful tidings spread, bonfires were 
 kindled, and bells rung, and the first strong shout of vic- 
 tory sent up by the people. 
 
 There w T as one scene in this parliament that must 
 have affected Cromwell deeply. He had witnessed the 
 tyranny of the king and the manly defence of the com- 
 mons, and the joy of the people, pointing significantly 
 which way the power was tending ; but he was to gaze 
 on the spectacle of a parliament in tears. As the House, 
 a short time previous to the day appointed for its disso- 
 lution, commenced investigating the conduct of the 
 Duke of Buckingham, with the intention of denouncing 
 him to the king and people — if not by name yet in real- 
 ity, — it received a message from Charles, forbidding 
 " it to meddle, henceforth, with matters of state." This 
 bold stroke of tyranny fell like a thunderbolt on parlia- 
 ment. Sir John Elliot first arose and spoke, and soon 
 began to throw out hints against Buckingham, when the 
 speaker interrupted him, saying, with tears in his eyes, 
 " There is a command laid upon me to interrupt any that 
 should go about to lay an aspersion on the ministers of 
 state." Elliot sat down, and Sir Dudley Digges, spring- 
 
 * That the reader may see how reasonable the demands of parliament 
 were, and understand the basis of the quarrel between it and the king, 
 we give the " Petition" in full, in Appendix No. I. 
 
1628.] PARLIAMENT IN TEARS. 17 
 
 ing to his feet, exclaimed : " Unless we may speak of 
 these things in parliament, let us arise and begone, or sit 
 still and do nothing." A solemn silence followed this 
 declaration. At length, Nathaniel Rich spoke, followed 
 by Sir Robert Phillips, who wept as he addressed the 
 House ; and after him the stern-hearted Pym. Sir Ed- 
 ward Coke, " old Coke upon Lyttleton," " the toughest 
 man that ever was made, broke down in the midst 
 of his speech and fell to weeping." Was there ever 
 such a spectacle — a parliament, the noblest that ever 
 met in England, in tears? One would give much to 
 have looked on the determined brow of Cromwell then, 
 and seen how he took this scene, and watched the 
 promptings of his fiery heart, as he saw brave men 
 weeping for their country. 
 
 This sudden prostration of all hearts was, however, 
 but momentary — the House passed from apathy to rage 
 — the speaker left the chair — the members sprang to 
 their feet, and for a while nothing but clamors and 
 shouts could be heard. Suddenly, above the tumult, was 
 heard the name of Buckingham, and "'Tis he! 'tis he!" 
 rang in excited accents over the house. Before the 
 opposition this sudden storm had aroused, the king was 
 compelled to retire, and finally sanctioned the petition of 
 rights. But reforms on paper began to be followed by 
 demands for reform in practice, and two remonstrances 
 were drawn up, one against the Duke of Buckingham, 
 and the other against having tonnage and poundage 
 duties levied, except, like other taxes, by law. The king, 
 seeing there was no end to this cry about grievances, 
 
18 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 lost all patience, and in June — three months from the 
 time of its assembling, prorogued parliament. 
 
 Cromwell returned to his farm, to ponder on what he 
 had seen and heard, while Charles recommenced his 
 
 arbitrary course. / 
 
 DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM. 
 
 In the meantime, about two months after parliament 
 broke up, Buckingham was murdered by John Felton, a 
 former lieutenant in his majesty's service. Thus fell, 
 by the hand of an assassin, the favorite of Charles — one 
 of his chief supports, and the hated foe of the people and 
 parliament. Of a handsome person, courtly manners — 
 bold, daring and unscrupulous — he sought power only to 
 gratify his love for magnificent display and the baser 
 passions of his nature. He neither rejoiced in the pros- 
 perity of his country, nor felt for its disasters. Absorbed 
 wholly in his selfish schemes, and capable of beholding 
 nothing but himself aggrandized, he used his power so 
 recklessly that he became a public calamity. Implacable 
 in his hatred, fickle in his friendships, promoting his 
 flatterers to places of trust, thinking more of seducing a 
 woman than of carrying a great political measure ; gay, 
 gallant and unprincipled, his death was a great blessing 
 to England. Formed to shine in courts, he dazzled 
 awhile, and then disappeared from the kingdom he had 
 helped to undo. The assassin's knife saved him from 
 the scaffold. 
 
 His death exasperated the king, without teaching him 
 
1629.] FIRST SPEECH OF CROMWELL. 19 
 
 prudence or opening his eyes to the course everything 
 was taking. Instead of yielding, he seemed more intent 
 than ever on carrying through his tyrannical mea- 
 sures. He heaped favors on those whom the parliament 
 had disgraced. Dr. Montague was created Bishop 01 
 Chichester ; Mainwaring received a rich benefice, while 
 Laud was promoted to the see of London. Illegal taxes 
 were levied, and the courts of justice compelled to sanc- 
 tion them. Showing, however, a little more tact, he 
 surrounded himself with ministers not so obnoxious to 
 the people. Wentworth, one of the most eloquent mem- 
 bers of parliament, and boldest, earliest friend of liberty, 
 was seduced by the title of baron, and a seat in the privy 
 council, to the side of the king. Proud and ambitious, 
 he sacrificed his principles and obtained his reward — 
 viz. power, greatness, and eventually the scaffold. 
 
 FOURTH SESSION OF PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The king, feeling strong with his new council about 
 him, again assembled parliament, Jan. 20, 1629.^ This 
 was a short session, but important, if for nothing else, 
 in being the first in which Cromwell attempted to speak. 
 He accused Dr. Alabaster of having preached "flat 
 popery" at St. Paul's Cross ; and that, too, in obedience 
 to the Bishop of Winchester. " Mainwaring, too," he 
 said, " so lately punished by parliament for his sermons, 
 has been recently, within a month, preferred to a rich liv- 
 ing, by this same bishop. If these," he exclaimed, " are 
 
20 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the steps to church preferment, what may we not ex- 
 pect ?" 
 
 Soon after the meeting of parliament, it discovered, 
 with indignation and disgust, that the king had ordered 
 his printer to alter the answer he had given the petition 
 of rights, so that it had gone forth a falsehood. Letting 
 this pass, however, in silent contempt, it again took up 
 the subject of grievances. Reforms, both in religious 
 and civil matters, were loudly demanded, and at length 
 the tonnage and poundage duties came up. A second 
 remonstrance was about to be carried, when the speaker 
 informed the house that the king had ordered him not 
 to put the motion ; and rose to retire. " God's wounds /" 
 exclaimed the fierce Holies ; " you shall sit till it please 
 the House to rise." The king, hearing of the outbreak, 
 sent the sergeant-at-arms to remove the mace, and thus 
 arrest all proceedings. But he, too, was kept firmly- 
 seated, and the doors of the house were locked. A se- 
 cond messenger came to dissolve the parliament, but 
 could not gain admission. Boiling with rage, at being 
 thus defied on his very throne, Charles called the cap- 
 tain of his guards and ordered him to force the doors. 
 But the vote, in the meantime, had been carried by ac- 
 clamation. Armenianism and papacy stood denounced 
 before the world ; the levying of tonnage and poundage 
 was declared illegal, and those pronounced guilty of high 
 treason who should levy or even pay them. Parliament, 
 of course, was dissolved.* 
 
 Charles, now firmly resolved to govern alone, com- 
 * 10th of March. 
 
PERSECUTION OF THE PURITANS. 21 
 
 menced a course of tyranny never practised before by 
 the most despotic monarch of England. First, to relieve 
 himself from the financial pressure which had forced 
 him so frequently to convoke parliament, he concluded 
 a peace with France and Spain. The high-handed 
 measures which he immediately adopted against the 
 patriots caused at first a great sensation ; but parliament 
 being dissolved there was nothing around which the 
 public indignation could gather and concentrate, and so, 
 the murmurs of the disaffected became so many feeble, 
 isolated voices, while the complaints of some were 
 hushed in the cells of a prison ; where many, and among 
 them the noble patriot and martyr, Sir John Elliot, 
 eventually died. 
 
 The church, too, came in for its share of power. It 
 became concentrated in the hands of the bishops — the 
 observance of the liturgy and cathedral rights was en- 
 forced, and non-conformists, turned out of their livings 
 and forbidden to preach, were sent wandering over the 
 country. 
 
 PERSECUTION OF THE PURITANS. 
 
 Persecution commenced ; a system of espionage was 
 carried on, and a petty tyranny practised, by that heart- 
 less and bigotted prelate, Laud. Men were put in the 
 stocks for circulating pamphlets that denounced the 
 injustice of the times, and their ears cropped off in 
 presence of the people. They were forbidden to write, 
 to preach, or even talk of those questions of conscience 
 
22 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 which agitated the kingdom. A single unguarded sen- 
 tence against the nobility would hurry men to the star- 
 chamber, the chief business of which was to protect 
 the rank and privileges of the former, while the court 
 of High Commission was as vindictive and unscrupu- 
 lous, if not so cruel, as the inquisition of Rome. The 
 guilt or innocence of the offending party was of very lit- 
 tle consequence, he w r as punished with fines, which went 
 into the pockets of the king and his nobility ; or with 
 imprisonment, or both. 
 
 Laud, as ambitious and fanatical in church matters 
 as Charles was in political, bent all his energies to destroy 
 liberty of conscience. Not content with turning non- 
 conformists out of their livings, he stooped to personal 
 and vindictive persecution. A Mr. Workman had said 
 that pictures and ornaments in churches were a relic of 
 idolatry. For this unlucky speech he was thrown into 
 prison, and the mayor and municipal officers of Glouces- 
 ter, who had formerly settled on him twenty pounds a 
 year, were fined for their kindness. When the term of 
 imprisonment expired, Mr. Workman, thrown upon the 
 world without the means of subsistence, opened a little 
 school. Laud ordered it to be closed. The poor and 
 hunted man then turned doctor — Laud commanded, on 
 pain of heavy penalties, that no one should buy his 
 medicine. Driven out of every means of subsistence by 
 this bishop, the poor clergyman went mad and died.* 
 
 It would be useless to mention all the instances of the 
 unjust persecution and petty revenge of this unscrupulous 
 prelate. Although a stern defender of royal prerogative 
 
 * Vide Neal. 
 
LAUD. 23 
 
 when the people or parliament was concerned, he nev- 
 ertheless unhesitatingly assumed the independence of 
 the church, and even went so far as to proclaim the 
 divine right of bishops. They held their courts no 
 longer in the name of the king, but in their own name, 
 and affixed only the episcopal seal to their acts. Not 
 content with this, Laud grasped after the civil power, 
 persuading Charles to fill places of trust in the state with 
 church dignitaries ; until at last Bishop Juxon was made 
 High Treasurer. In the church he innovated, with the 
 same high hand, on established forms and ceremonies. 
 Not only did he have the audacity to alter the internal 
 arrangements of churches and customary forms of wor- 
 ship long considered sacred, but went so far as to change 
 the Liturgy itself, prescribed by parliament, and hitherto 
 considered binding on the nation.* Conscientiously and 
 sensitively alive to any encroachment on regal power, by 
 the representatives of the people in parliament assembled, 
 he pushed his own encroachments so boldly, that a king 
 less imbecile than Charles would have taken fire at the 
 audacity they exhibited. So rapidly and far did he carry 
 everything in the church towards papacy, that the Pope 
 of Rome offered him a cardinal's hat. A daughter of 
 the Duke of Devonshire having turned Catholic, Laud 
 asked her the reason of her conduct. " Chiefly," said 
 she, " because I hate to travel in a crowd : I perceive 
 your Grace and many others are making haste to Rome ; 
 and therefore, in order to prevent my being crowded, I 
 have gone before you."f 
 
 * Neal, III., 209. f Vide Hume. 
 
24 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Persecuted, fined and trampled on by the king and 
 his bishops, the people left in such crowds for Holland, 
 and thence for America, and carried so much wealth out 
 of the kingdom, that the court at length became alarm- 
 ed, and passed an ordinance, May 1, 1637, forbidding 
 emigration. Eight ships were lying in the Thames at 
 the time, ready to depart ; on board of which it is said, 
 were Pym, Haselrig, Hampden, and Cromwell. 
 
 Nine years had now passed since Cromwell made 
 his first speech in parliament. During this time he had 
 lived on his farm, watching, one may guess with what 
 feelings, the unblushing and unscrupulous tyranny of the 
 king and bishops. A zealous Puritan, he scorned to 
 yield to the injustice of the times, and so resolved to 
 bury himself in our western wilderness, where he could 
 at least worship his God in freedom. One would be glad 
 to knerw of his interviews with Haselrig, Pym, and 
 Hampden — of what and how they talked ; and thus get 
 an insight into the character of these men before the 
 great struggle commences. But this portion of his 
 career is wrapt in obscurity ; and the sober, meditative 
 farmer is passing the meridian of his life, while events 
 are slowly moving to a consummation that even the 
 most hopeful do not dream of. 
 
 In the meantime, Strafford, who had been appointed 
 over Ireland, was ruling that unhappy country with a 
 rod of iron. By a system of pillage and extortion, which 
 rivalled even that of his master, he contrived to make 
 that island, which had hitherto been a bill of expense, a 
 source of revenue to the crown. Do what he would, a 
 
THE PURITANS. 25 
 
 sum of money could buy the king's pardon ; indeed, if 
 of sufficient amount, could buy that of almost any man. 
 Under this systematic tyranny of the king and bishops, 
 the elements which for years had seemed to settle them- 
 selves into obedience, now began to move again. 
 
 LIFE OF THE PURITANS. 
 
 The persecutions of Laud, as all persecutions do, soon 
 brought to light those who were willing to be martyrs. 
 Though turned out of their livings and forbidden to 
 preach, the faithful pastors still found means to instruct 
 the people. In cellars, in barns, in the depths of the for- 
 ests, they met and discussed those great questions of con- 
 science for which it became them, if necessary, to lay 
 down their lives. Their situation as hunted fugitives — 
 the forlorn and solitary places in which they met — the 
 danger that surrounded them, and the indignation arous- 
 ed by the injustice of their oppressors, conspired to in- 
 flame their imaginations and excite their enthusiasm. 
 Clothed in black, with their hair cropped short, they took 
 pleasure in marking themselves out as proscribed men. 
 Incensed at their proud and stubborn resistance, and its 
 inability to check the circulation of pamphlets reflecting 
 harshly on the king and bishops, the court caused three of 
 them, Prynne, Burton, and Bostwick, to be arrested and 
 tried before the star chamber. No barrister would un- 
 dertake their cause, and they were refused permission to 
 defend themselves ; and so, after being insulted, were con- 
 demned to the pillory,— to lose their ears, pay £5000, 
 2 
 
26 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 and suffer perpetual imprisonment. Prynne had lost his 
 ears before for a similar offence, and now the stumps 
 were again sawed off Crowds assembled to witness the 
 execution of this villainous sentence, whom the victims 
 addressed with words of encouragement. Six months 
 after, Lilburn lost his ears for the same offence, and tied 
 to a cart's tail, was whipped through the public streets of 
 Westminster ; but exhorted the people, in the midst of 
 his sufferings. Scorning the repeated commands to 
 stop, he was gagged — still resolute, he drew forth the 
 seditious pamphlets from his pockets, and while the lash 
 was falling on his back, distributed them to the crowd. 
 
 The opposition, which had been mostly among the 
 lower classes, now began to animate those of higher 
 rank. John Hampden, Cromwell's cousin, a gentleman 
 of large fortune, unimpeachable integrity, calm, prudent, 
 and respectful to his king, refused to pay the ship-money 
 levied on him, though it amounted to only twenty shil- 
 lings. Hurried away to prison, he showed no passion, 
 but calmly said it was as much for the interest of the 
 king as for himself and country, that the legality of the 
 tax should be decided by the highest judicial tribunal of 
 the land. He was tried, and though the law was clearly 
 on his side, the judges overawed by Charles, dared not 
 decide in his favor. The people, however, took courage 
 as they saw the gentry resisting the king, and Hamp- 
 den's name was in every one's mouth. 
 
1627.] THE LITURGY IN SCOTLAND. 27 
 
 LAUD S LITURGY RAISES A STORM IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 During this same year, Charles, at the instigation of 
 Laud, undertook to force the liturgy reformed by this 
 audacious prelate, down the throats of the sturdy 
 Scotch Calvinists, which raised a whirlwind in Scot- 
 land. The most intense excitement followed the 
 movement; and the next year (Oct. 18, 1637), at the 
 introduction of this new liturgy into Edinburgh Ca- 
 thedral, the town was besieged by the multitude that 
 had flocked thither to resist so high-handed an inno- 
 vation of their religious rights. Ordered to return 
 home, they assembled again in November, and sent 
 their petitions to the king. At length, the next year 
 (Feb. 19th), the proclamation of Charles, enforcing the 
 liturgy and forbidding the petitioners to assemble under 
 penalty of high treason, gave the finishing blow. In a 
 moment, Edinburgh was in a blaze — the excited crowds, 
 aroused from every part of the country, thronged 
 through the streets — highlander and lowlander, noble and 
 commoner, struck hands together, and old Scotland stood 
 up in her might, with her solemn " Covenant" in her 
 hand, and swore to defend it to the last. The fiery 
 cross went flashing along the glens, through the valleys, 
 and over the mountains, and in six weeks Scotland was 
 ready to do battle for her rights. Charles was fright- 
 ened at the spirit he had raised, and strove to allay it 
 by falsehood; and failing in this, marched his armies 
 against the Covenanters. Having arrived at Newcas- 
 
28 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 tie, he found a superior army encamped at Dunse- 
 law, ready to meet him, commanded by Lesley ; while, 
 attached to every colonel's tent, was this pennon, flying, 
 " For Christ's Crown and Covenant." The king retired, 
 the two armies separated, and the quarrel, was appa- 
 rently settled, though in fact, only deferred. 
 
 While these things were passing in Scotland, Crom- 
 well continued on his farm, and in 1638, we find him 
 taking an active part in measures set on foot for the 
 drainage of the fens in his district. 
 
 This whole affair is wrapt in obscurity. Thus much 
 only is known, that he took sides with the people against 
 an act of injustice which the king and his commis- 
 sioners endeavored to enforce.* By his energy, fear- 
 lessness and resolution he succeeded, and became so 
 popular in that region that he was called " Lord of the 
 Fens." What his future plans were is not known, for 
 the momentous public events that soon engrossed the 
 
 * The sum of the matter seems to be, that a plan had been form- 
 ed, by the Earl of Bedford and other noblemen, to carry the Ouse some 
 twenty miles in a straight course to the sea, and thus drain millions of 
 acres which it then, in its tortuous course, overflowed. Some 400,030 
 acres had already been reduced by that part called Bedford Level, when 
 the funds gave out, and the aid of the crown was sought to enable them 
 to carry out the project, for which a certain proportion of the land 
 was to be given. But no sooner had the King become a partner in 
 the business than he sent commissioners to try claims — in short, 
 endeavored to enrich himself at the cost of the poor inhabitants of that 
 region. Meetings were held, remonstrances made, yet victory seemed 
 hopeless, until Cromwell interfered, and by his boldness, daring and 
 energy drove the commissioners and everybody else away. The 
 work was never resumed until after the war. 
 
1638.] LETTER PROM CROMWELL. 29 
 
 attention of every one, put a stop to all internal im- 
 provements. During this period, however, he was 
 distinguished for his religious enthusiasm. He kept 
 da) T s of fasting and prayer, and evening and morning 
 knelt, with his workmen by his side, and poured forth 
 his earnest supplications to heaven. 
 
 His health, however, suffered under the climate of St. 
 Ives and his terrible mental excitement combined, and 
 his appearance in church on Sundays, with his pallid, 
 solemn face and a red flannel tied around his neck, was 
 long remembered by the inhabitants. Of incorruptible 
 integrity — charitable and* kind to the poor and oppressed 
 — fervent in prayer, solemn, watchful, resolute and 
 enthusiastic, he acquired unbounded influence over 
 those who knew him, and already represented in himself 
 the elements of that army whose battle shout afterwards 
 made the world tremble. 
 
 We do not design to give many of Cromwell's letters, 
 but the following, written during this year to his cousin, 
 who had married Oliver St. John, a widower, the cele- 
 brated barrister who defended Hampden so nobly in 
 his ship-money trial, exposes Cromwell's religious char- 
 acter so fully, that it is worthy especial notice. At 
 this time he w T as a simple farmer — one of the disgraced 
 and persecuted non-conformists — with every worldly 
 motive against his expressing his religious belief — and 
 hence, however true the charge of cant may be, that of 
 hypocrisy is too absurd to be entertained for a moment. 
 That as a private man — never anticipating public noto- 
 riety, and writing a private letter to a female cousin, he 
 
30 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 assumed a religious sensibility, and spoke of religious 
 things except as he felt them, no man of just mind will 
 believe. 
 
 11 To my beloved Cousin Mrs. St. John, at Sir William Masham his 
 House called Otes, in Essex : Present these. 
 
 " Ely, 13th October, 1638. 
 
 " Dear Cousin — I thankfully acknowledge your love in your 
 kind remembrance of me upon this opportunity. Alas, you do too 
 highly prize my lines and my company. I may be ashamed to 
 own your expressions, considering how unprofitable I am, and the 
 mean improvement of my talent. 
 
 " Yet to honor my God by declaring what He hath done for my 
 soul, in this I am confident, and I will be so. Truly, then, this I 
 find : That He giveth springs in a dry barren wilderness where no 
 water is. I live, you know where — in Meshec, which they say 
 signifies Prolong ing ; in Kedar, which signifies Blackness; yet the 
 Lord forsaketh me not. Though He do prolong, yet He will, I 
 trust, bring me to His Tabernacle, to His resting-place. My soul 
 is with the Congregation of the First-born, my body rests in hope : 
 and if here I may honor my God either by doing or suffering, I 
 shall be most glad . 
 
 " Truly no poor creature hath more cause to put himself forth in 
 the cause of his God than l. I have had plentiful wages before- 
 hand; and I am sure I shall never earn the least mite. The Lord 
 accept me in His Son, and give me to walk in the light — and give 
 us to walk in the light, as He is the light ! He it is that enlight- 
 ened our blackness, our darkness. I dare not say, He hideth His 
 face from me. He giveth me to see light in His light. One beam 
 in a dark place hath exceeding much refreshment in it : — blessed 
 be His name for shining on so dark a heart as mine ! You know 
 what my manner of life hath been. Oh, I lived in and loved dark- 
 
1638.] THIRD PARLIAMENT. 31 
 
 ness, and hated Jight ; I was a chief, the chief of sinners. This 
 is true : 1 hated godliness, yet God had mercy on me. O the 
 riches of His mercy ! Praise Him for me ; pray for me, that He 
 who ha^th begun a good work would perfect it in the day of Christ. 
 
 " Salute all my friends in that Family whereof you are yet a mem- 
 ber. I am much bound unto them for their love. I bless the Lord 
 for them; and that my Son, by their procurement, is so well. 
 Let him have your prayers, your counsel; let me have them. 
 
 " Salute y#ur husband and sister from me : — He is not a man 
 of his word! He promised to write about Mr. Wrath of Epping; 
 bnt as yet I receive no letters : — put him in mind to do what 
 with conveniency .may be done for the poor Cousin I did solicit 
 him about. 
 
 " Once more farewell. The Lord be with you : so prayeth 
 " Your truly loving cousin, 
 
 "Oliver Cromwell." 
 
 What a flood of light does this letter throw upon his 
 character at this time. Absorbed in the contemplation 
 of religious things, with the glory of heaven on one side, 
 and the "blackness of darkness" on the other — angels 
 and fiends beckoning him by turns — the shouts of " the 
 congregation of the first-born," and the sad lament of 
 the dwellers of Meshec, alternately falling on his excited 
 ear — now looking into the abodes of light, and now gaz- 
 ing steadfastly into the deep abyss of the pit of despair — 
 his strong intellect is shaken to its foundation, and 
 nothing but a life of action, giving vent to his pent-up 
 excitement, can save him from the gloomiest fanaticism. 
 Swayed by one master passion, he is undergoing a fear- 
 ful preparation for the scenes before him. The elegant 
 
32 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Hampden, the astute St. John, the firm Bradshaw 
 and crafty Vane, nay, all England are yet to bend before 
 this soul of fire. Fearless of consequences, ready to 
 suffer martyrdom — indeed, ready for anything at the call 
 of his Great Master, he stands on the threshhold of this 
 long struggle, resolved to bear himself like a man, a 
 Christian, and a hero. This letter shows in every line 
 of it the most perfect sincerity. That passage in which 
 he speaks of himself as the chief of sinners, has been 
 adduced as proof that he formerly led a dissolute life ; 
 while it evidently is meant only to express his sense of 
 the deep sinfulness of his heart in an unconverted state. 
 He is full of that dread eternity, on the vast concerns 
 of which he is ever gazing, and struggling after the 
 perfect freedom of the "sons of God." Whatever 
 he may become in after life, he is now a true-hearted 
 Puritan, with all the peculiar views of conviction, re- 
 generation, and a spiritual life, of that sect; and is 
 straining forward " towards the mark for the prize of the 
 high calling." Wars and rumors of wars are borne to 
 his ears — the land is filled with corruption, oppression 
 and complaints, and old England is surging to and fro, 
 like the sea before a storm. Across the blackness of 
 the political horizon he can see no dawning light ; and 
 vainly seeking to abandon the home of his childhood 
 and the land of his birth, that he may serve his God and 
 win heaven, he has at length settled down with the firm 
 resolution to suffer shame, reproach and persecution. 
 Call him self-deluded, superstitious, fanatical, if you will, 
 but honest he certainly is. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM THE LONG PARLIAMENT TO THE FIRST CIVIL WAR 
 
 1640—1642. 
 
 Short Parliament— Second Invasion of Scotland — Meeting of the Long 
 Parliament— Its Stern Aspect— Impeachment of Laud— Trial and 
 Death oi Strafford — His Character — Personal Appearance of Crom- 
 well—Appointed on a Private Committee — Defends the Poor — The 
 King Visits Scotland — Grand Petition and Remonstrance — Stormy- 
 Debate upon It — Cromwell's View of It— Withdrawal of the Bish- 
 ops—Their Impeachment — Attempt to Seize the Five Members — 
 Excitement Caused by It — The King Leaves Whitehall never to 
 Return except as a Prisoner — Recapitulation — Cromwell a Patriot. 
 
 Charles at length exhausted all the means which 
 unscrupulous tyranny could devise, but his treasury was 
 still empty ; and as a last resort, he resolved to call a 
 new parliament, in order to obtain money with which 
 to raise another army to subdue the Scots. It met 
 April 16, 1640. He had got along eleven years with- 
 out a parliament, but was now fairly driven to the 
 wall. 
 
 But during these eleven years the commons had not 
 forgotten grievances ; and when the king asked for sup- 
 plies, he received in reply " grievances." Nothing could 
 be done with a parliament that talked only of griev- 
 ances, and in three weeks it was dissolved. Money be- 
 2* 
 
34 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ing raised by other means, an army was equipped and 
 marched to the Scottish borders, to force the inhabitants 
 to swallow Laud's liturgy. He was compelled, however, 
 to retreat before the Scotch forces under Lesley, who, 
 crossing the Tweed, seemed resolved to seek redress at 
 the foot of the throne itself. Finding himself still deeper 
 involved, he again convoked parliament in November, 
 for the double purpose of making a treaty with the vic- 
 torious Scots and of relieving the finances of the 
 kingdom. 
 
 This was the famous Long Parliament. Exasperated 
 at its last dissolution — enraged at the falsehoods and 
 tyranny of the king, and perceiving at last that he, with 
 his favorites, Bishop Laud and the Earl of Strafford, 
 were bent on breaking down the constitution of England 
 — it met with the stern purpose of taking the manage- 
 ment of affairs into its own hands. The king saw, at a 
 glance, that he had got to retreat, or close in a mortal 
 struggle with his parliament. The respect showed him 
 at his opening speech, was cold and even haughty. The 
 proud determination that sat on the countenances of the 
 members awed even the monarch ; and the fierce indig- 
 nation which broke forth at his departure, told his friends 
 that a crisis had come. Every member had some peti- 
 tion from his constituents to offer, and the eleven years 
 of arbitrary rule he had tried, and was now compelled to 
 abandon, received a terrible review. Monopolies, ship- 
 money, illegal arrests, the despotism of the bishops, and 
 the action of arbitrary courts, came up in rapid succes- 
 sion, each adding .to the torrent of indignation that was 
 
1641.] TRIAL OF STRAFFORD. 35 
 
 about to roll on the throne. One of the first acts of this 
 parliament was, to declare every member of it who had 
 taken part in any monopoly, unworthy of his place, and 
 four were immediately excluded. This decision fell 
 like a thunderbolt on the king and his party, and filled 
 the people with unbounded joy. The unscrupulous 
 agents of the government — despotic bishops, corrupt 
 judges, and even ministers of state — were struck dumb 
 by the boldness of the attitude assumed. The people 
 saw that the tide had turned, and were animated with 
 the liveliest hopes. Presbyterian preachers resumed 
 their livings — suppressed pamphlets were again sent 
 abroad on the wings of the wind — church despotism 
 dared not wag its head ; and yet, no legal steps had been 
 taken to produce the change. It was simply the moral 
 effect of the firmness of parliament ; the people felt that 
 it was on their side, and took confidence in resisting 
 oppression, while those who had made them suffer, be- 
 gan to< fear that the chalice they had pressed so cruelly 
 to the lips of others, they might in turn be forced to 
 drink. 
 
 TRIAL AND DEATH OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 Strafford, who was with the remains of the army 
 that had retired before the Scotch, was summoned by 
 Charles to London. Foreseeing the storm that was 
 about to burst on him, as the chief counsellor of his king, 
 he besought that he might keep aloof. Charles, however, 
 promised to protect him at all hazards, and the earl find- 
 
36 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ing no way of escape, boldly threw himself amid his 
 enemies, resolving to forestall them by impeaching some 
 of the leaders of parliament as aiders and abettors of the 
 Scotch invasion. Pym and his friends, however, antici- 
 pated him, and suddenly accused him of high treason. 
 The House of Lords sustained the impeachment, and 
 the haughty minister was sent to the Tower. The next 
 blow fell on Archbishop Laud ; and he, too, was com- 
 pelled to taste the pleasures of imprisonment, which he 
 had bestowed so lavishly on others. Things began to 
 look significant — the head of civil oppression, and the 
 leader of religious despotism were both struck, within a 
 short time of each other, and the character of the com- 
 ing revolution clearly "pronounced. 
 
 The next step was still more significant. A bill was 
 passed, making it necessary that a parliament should 
 assemble at least once in three years, and not be dis- 
 solved until fifty days after meeting. The king, though 
 filled with rage, was compelled to sanction it. 
 
 The trial of Strafford immediately followed, lasting 
 seventeen days. This unprincipled but gifted states- 
 man defended himself with all the ability which had 
 marked his political course. But his eloquence and his 
 arguments were alike unavailing. His death was re- 
 solved upon — the parliament, the people, and the welfare 
 of the nation demanded it. Still his learning and 
 genius might have saved him, had not Sir Arthur Has- 
 selrig, by a bold stroke, relieved the judges from the re- 
 sponsibility under which they were placed. He moved 
 a bill of attainder, by which Strafford was declared guilty 
 
1641.] STRAFFORD CONDEMNED. 37 
 
 by act of parliament. From that moment, the fate of 
 the unfortunate earl was sealed. He struggled nobly, 
 but he fell at last. Sentence of death was pronounced 
 upon him, and it needed but the royal signature to se- 
 cure its immediate execution. Charles delayed and 
 deferred, and sought, by every means, to save his favo- 
 rite. He had given his royal word to Strafford, that if 
 he obeyed his summons and came amid his enemies, 
 that he would protect him from all harm. Alas, for 
 his honor! fear for his own safety and that of his 
 throne, overcame his scruples, and he signed the death- 
 warrant. No wonder that Strafford when he heard of it 
 said — "Put not your trust ih princes." We will not 
 argue the naked question of guilt or innocence with 
 respect to the charge of high treason, for in fact the 
 trial did not turn on that. There is no doubt that he, 
 with Charles, conspired to overturn the liberties of the 
 people, and by fraud and force destroy the very laws 
 on which they rested. Of the system of tyranny which 
 looked to this result, Strafford was the soul and energy. 
 One of the first and ablest friends of liberty, he had be- 
 come an apostate ; and shielded by no prejudice, blinded 
 by^io false notions of royal prerogative, boldly and 
 steadily advanced to the work of ruin he had planned. 
 Selling his conscience and honor for a title, he bent all 
 his vast energies to the destruction of those whom he 
 had betrayed. Injustice, cruelty and suffering had also 
 been inflicted by him. In Ireland he had trampled on 
 the courts of justice, extorted enormous fines from the 
 Irish nobility, and ruled with a rod of iron. Thus, in 
 
38 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 both islands, he had become a hated tyrant, and his death 
 seemed indispensable to the welfare of the realm. So 
 long as he, with his all-grasping mind and great energy, 
 stood by the king, there was no hope for England. The 
 public good demanded his overthrow, and it was in fact 
 before this stern demand that he fell. By his apostasy, 
 his tyranny, his injustice, his treasonable plans for the 
 subversion of English liberty, he deserved to die. At 
 all events, if he did not, then is Charles doubly damned 
 — first, for violating his kingly promise, that he should 
 not be injured, and second, for signing the death-war- 
 rant of a friend who was innocent of the crimes alleged 
 against him. How those who assail the parliament for 
 condemning Strafford can attempt to exculpate Charles 
 seems strange enough, yet so it is. 
 
 With transcendent ability Strafford was nevertheless a 
 base man. Traitor first, a tyrant afterwards, his " vault- 
 ing ambition" at length " o'erleaped itself." His career, 
 though dazzling and lofty, was stained in every part by 
 some crime. To say nothing of his robberies and ex- 
 tortions in Ireland, his treatment of Lord Mountmorris 
 and Lord Ely is sufficient to stamp hirn with lasting 
 infamy. The former, for a mere expression condemna- 
 tory of his conduct, he dragged before a tribunal which 
 he himself controlled, and caused sentence of death to be 
 pronounced upon him. His life was indeed spared, yet 
 on such terms that made even death preferable. The 
 latter he sent to prison, in order to force him to settle 
 his estate according to the wishes of his daughter-in- 
 law, whom Strafford had seduced. Whether, therefore, 
 
CAUSES OF THE REVOLUTION. 39 
 
 under the technicalities of the law, he was strictly guilty 
 of high treason or not, he merited his fate, not only for 
 his public but his private acts. The House, however, 
 on his condemnation, nobly excluded his children from 
 the legal consequences of the sentence, an act of gene- 
 rosity for which they had no precedent in the king. 
 
 Cromwell saw this thrilling scene from its beginning 
 to its denouement. The trial and execution of a man 
 next to the king, in authority and power, must have 
 made a deep impression upon him, and exerted a power- 
 ful influence on his after course. To his just mind, 
 unbiased by reverence for blood, and judging actions by 
 the simple rule of right, there could have been but little 
 difference between the guilt of the king and his minis- 
 ter; and when we remember this precedent which he 
 had before him, and by whom it was furnished, we can- 
 not be surprised at the readiness with which he after- 
 wards affixed his signature to the death-warrant of 
 Charles. 
 
 At the opening of this parliament the spring previous, 
 Cromwell made a speech on presenting a petition of John 
 Lilburn, the man who had been tied to a cart's tail, and 
 whipped through the streets of Westminster. The fol- 
 lowing description of his personal appearance, at that 
 time, is given by Sir Phillip Warwick : " The first time 
 I ever took notice of Mr. Cromwell," says he, "was in 
 the very beginning of the parliament held in November, 
 1640. * * I came into the House, one morning, well 
 clad, and perceived a gentleman speaking, whom I knew 
 not — very ordinarily apparelled ; for it was a plain cloth 
 
40 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 suit, which seemed to have been made by an ill country 
 tailor ; his linen was plain, and not very clean ; and I 
 remember a speck or two of blood upon his little band,* 
 which was not much larger than his collar. His hat 
 was without a hat-band. His stature was of good size; 
 his sword stuck close to his side ; his countenance swol- 
 len and reddish; his voice sharp and untuneable, and 
 his eloquence full of fervor: ibr the subject matter 
 would not bear much reason, it being in behalf of a ser- 
 vant of Mr. Prynne's, who had dispensed Bibles. I sin- 
 cerely profess it lessened my reverence unto that great 
 council, for this gentleman was much harkened unto." 
 
 Add to this, a face whose features seemed wrought 
 out of iron, a large rubicund nose, wrinkled and warted 
 cheeks, heavy and shaggy eyebrows, with a majestic 
 forehead above them, rising like the front of a marble 
 temple over the coarser features beneath, and around 
 it rich and clustering hair, parted in the middle, with a 
 single lock straying loosely by itself — firm-set lips, deep 
 and solemn grey eyes, piercing you through and through, 
 and when lit by excitement terrible as lightning, and 
 you have the personal appearance of Oliver Cromwell. 
 There were about him, also, an air of command, and a 
 conscious superiority, to which the proudest noble and 
 the fiercest foe alike yielded deference. 
 
 On this occasion, he was to defend one who had been 
 publicly whipped for the very sentiments he himself 
 entertained. Bold, fearless and decided, with his indig- 
 nation aroused by the injustice of the act, no wonder 
 
 * Probably he had cut himself in shaving. 
 
1641.] ON A PRIVATE COMMITTEE. 41 
 
 his " eloquence was. full of fervor." The inherent right 
 to command — that secret power over others acknow- 
 ledged in such men as Washington and Bonaparte, 
 were 'unconsciously recognized by the House, and it 
 listened to him, it scarce knew why, with the deepest 
 attention. 
 
 ,A few months after this speech, we find Cromwell on 
 a private committee, appointed to investigate a difficulty 
 existing between certain tenants of the Queen's Manors, 
 and inhabitants bordering upon them, upon one side, 
 and the Earl of Manchester and his son on the other. 
 Large tracts of land which belonged to the Queen's 
 Manors, and had been left as commons, were ordered to 
 be enclosed without consent of the tenants, and the 
 avails given to the earl. Against his oppression the 
 tenants, and others who had long used these commons, 
 made complaint. This private committee sat in the 
 Queen's Court, and Cromwell took strong ground in 
 favor of the petitioners. Lord Clarendon was chairman 
 of that committee, and hence his statement should be 
 taken with many grains of allowance, when he says 
 " that Cromwell defended the petitioners with a great 
 deal of passion, and when the chairman threatened them 
 with punishment if they did not cease their clamors and 
 interruptions of the opposite witnesses and counsel, 
 that he broke forth in great fury, denouncing him, the 
 chairman, as partial, and endeavoring to browbeat the 
 petitioners. The chairman appealed to the committee, 
 who sustained him; on which Cromwell became still 
 more furious, and when Lord Mandevil attempted to 
 
42 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 defend his course with the tenants, he answered him 
 with much rudeness and vehemence; and, indeed, be- 
 came so tempestuous that he was compelled to reprehend 
 him, and threaten, if he did not desist, to adjourn the 
 committee and complain of him to the House." This 
 is the chairman's account; but one who is acquainted 
 with the views entertained at that time by noble lords 
 of the rights o£ ignorant tenants, and the summary 
 manner they were ordinarily disposed of, can have no 
 difficulty in ascertaining the truth. Why should Crom- 
 well become so excited and tempestuous ; and breaking 
 over all bounds, hurl his denunciations on both the 
 chairman and the oppressive earl ? He had no interest 
 in the case, except so far as he wished justice done. 
 He saw that those ignorant rustics were looked upon 
 with contempt — their rights undervalued, and that noble 
 blood would outweigh justice in the balance, and his 
 republican spirit took fire. He, therefore, stepped be- 
 tween them and their oppressors, and accused the 
 latter of partiality and wrong. It was not a question 
 which involved his religious feelings, but simply one of 
 right between man and man ; and Clarendon has over- 
 shot his mark, in endeavoring to make us believe that 
 Cromwell became so rude, outrageous and uncontrolla- 
 ble, without provocation. He proves very conclusively 
 that great wrong was done in that committee, and the 
 fire that flashed from Cromwell's eye, and the invec- 
 tive that poured from his lips, were called forth by it and 
 it alone. 
 
 This year, 1641, was pregnant with great events. 
 
1641.] THE KING VISITS SCOTLAND. 43 
 
 Strafford was executed May 11 — the king gave his 
 consent to the abolition of the star-chamber court of 
 high commission, and all arbitrary tribunals, July 5, 
 and departed for Scotland in August. His northern 
 trip was ostensibly for the purpose of ratifying the treaty 
 with the Scotch, but in fact, to get proofs on which to 
 accuse the leaders of parliament of high treason, in carry- 
 ing on a correspondence with the Scotch covenanters — 
 thus, perhaps inducing the invasion itself. In the mean- 
 time, parliament adjourned for six weeks. 
 
 In November the massacre of the Irish Protestants, 
 by the papists, took place. 
 
 The king failed in his visit to Scotland. Though 
 he devoutly attended Presbyterian churches — heard the 
 long prayers and longer sermons of Presbyterian preach- 
 ers with becoming gravity, and seemed sufficiently 
 conciliating to please the most dissatisfied; the discovery 
 of the plot he had laid against the parliament aroused 
 the deepest indignation ; and when it again assembled, 
 it was with the full belief that Charles meditated its 
 destruction by violence. What with army plots — plots 
 against members — Irish massacres, and the universal 
 outcry against religious oppression and corruption, and 
 the fear of some great approaching evil, England- was 
 moved to its centre. The cries of the multitude rang 
 around the walls of parliament ; and in the city and the 
 country everything was in commotion. 
 
 All these causes combined impelled parliament to 
 draw up a grand petition and remonstrance. 
 
44 OLIVER CROMWELL 
 
 GRAND PETITION AND REMONSTRANCE. 
 
 This, not content with setting forth prevailing abuses, 
 went carefully over the past — contrasting the course of 
 the king with that of the parliament, and placed the blame 
 of the evils which burdened the land on the throne itself. 
 It was designed for the people rather than the king, and 
 expected to gain more by receiving their sympathy and 
 co-operation than by obtaining any redress from the 
 throne. The debate on it was the stormiest ever wit- 
 nessed in the House. On Nov. 21, a motion was made 
 to put it to vote, but Lord Falkland and others insisted 
 that it should lie over till next day, which was done. 
 On coming out of the House, Cromwell said to him, 
 " Why would you have it put off; the day would quick- 
 ly have determined it." " There would not have been 
 time enough," said Falkland, "for sure it would take 
 some debate." " A very sorry one," answered Crom- 
 well. 
 
 The next day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the 
 debate commenced, and continued till midnight, when 
 the House divided, and one hundred and fifty-nine were 
 found in its favor, and a hundred and forty-eight against 
 it. Hampden immediately moved that it should be 
 printed. Upon this the long smothered fire broke forth. 
 "I protest, I protest!" rang from different parts of the 
 House ; all was uproar and clamor — members laid their 
 hands upon their swords ; and for two hours the House 
 presented a scene of confusion and passion fearful and 
 
1641.] PETITION AND REMONSTRANCE. 45 
 
 indescribable. At length, on motion of Hampden, the 
 question of printing was laid over till next day. What 
 Cromwell said in this tumult, or what he did, we know 
 nothing ; yet one may be well assured that when mem- 
 bers sprang to their feet and laid their hands upon their 
 swords, he was not among the least excited : and had 
 words come to blows, his stalwart arm would have been 
 the first to strike. 
 
 At two o'clock in the morning the House adjourned ; 
 and as they were coming out Falkland said to Cromwell, 
 "Well, was there a debate?" "I'll take your word 
 another time," replied the latter ; and then added in a 
 low tone, " had the remonstrance been rejected, I would, 
 to-morrow, have sold everything I possessed and never 
 seen England more; and I know many other honest 
 men of the same opinion." 
 
 The next afternoon, the motion to print was carried. 
 From this time the disorders increased, and petitions 
 against the bishops and episcopacy flowed in from every 
 quarter to the lower House. The prelates themselves 
 were treated with open insult by the populace, and com- 
 pelled to retire secretly from the House of Lords to their 
 homes. Scenes of violence occurred in the streets, and 
 the friends of the king under the name of Cavaliers and 
 those of parliament distinguished as Roundheads formed 
 separate parties. Parliament asked the king for a 
 guard, and receiving a refusal, passed a vote authorising 
 every member to bring an armed servant with him. # 
 The bishops insulted and assailed, finally withdrew from 
 
 * Vide Clarendon, Warwick, &e. 
 
46 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 parliament, and drew up a protest declaring that all its 
 acts were null and void, without their sanction. In- 
 dignant at this high-handed act, the commons im- 
 peached the twelve bishops who had signed it and sent 
 them to the Tower. 
 
 The disorder and excitement around Westminster 
 and Whitehall extended to the country — associations 
 were formed in almost every place to defend both civil 
 and religious liberty, and the fires of rebellion were 
 rapidly kindling all over the land. 
 
 The king, in the meantime, instead of" relenting, 
 seemed resolved on still bolder measures than hitherto 
 adopted. Lord Digby, now his most influential adviser, 
 proposed that open violence should be employed to re- 
 duce the commons to obedience. In constant conference 
 with the queen, he won her, and at length the king, 
 over to his daring plans; and at the opening of the new 
 year, 1642, the final explosion took place. The number 
 of cavaliers around the House of Commons kept in- 
 creasing daily, and the members becoming still more 
 alarmed, again petitioned the king for a guard. He 
 again refused, giving his sacred promise that no violence 
 should be attempted, saying, "We do engage unto you, 
 solemnly, on the word of a king, that the security of all 
 and every one of you from violence, is and ever shall be 
 as much our care as the preservation of us and our 
 children." 
 
1642.] FIVE MEMBERS SEIZED. 47 
 
 ATTEMPTED SEIZURE OF THE FIVE MEMBERS. 
 
 This was January 3d ; yet on that very day, he sent 
 his attorney-general, Sir Edward Herbert, to the House 
 of Peers, to accuse five members of the commons, 
 Hampden, Pym, Holies, Strode and Haselrig, of high 
 treason, and demand their arrest. Right on the heels of 
 his sacred promise not to use violence, came his ser- 
 geant-at-arms to secure the accused; but the House 
 would not give them up, declaring that consideration 
 was required before such a breach of privilege could be 
 allowed. The next day it was announced that the king, 
 with several hundred men, all armed, was on his way to 
 take by force what he could not obtain by command. 
 At the news, swords flashed in the hall of parliament, 
 and brows knit in stern defiance. But better counsels 
 prevailed, and the five members were hurried away be- 
 fore the guard arrived. The king left his soldiers at the 
 door, and entered the House, accompanied only by his 
 nephew. He paused a moment on the threshhold, and 
 then advanced towards the Speaker's chair. Not a 
 sound broke the silence that succeeded his entrance, and 
 every footfall was distinctly heard as he slowly strode up 
 ' the hall. Taking the Speaker's seat, he glanced over the 
 House, and it is said when his eye encountered that of 
 i Cromwell, the savage glare, and fixed defiant expression 
 [ of the latter, arrested his attention, and for a brief space 
 the two future rivals sat face to face — one endeavoring 
 to overawe by his calm, proud and haughty glance ; the 
 other, engrossed only with his burning passion, and firm 
 
48 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 determination to resist. At length, the king's eye bent 
 before the steady gaze of Cromwell. He then made a 
 speech, saying that he expected that the accused, as soon 
 as they returned, would be sent to him ; and departed. 
 As he passed through the door, the smothered indignation 
 broke forth, and " privilege ! privilege !" smote his ear. 
 
 The next day the citizens rushed to arms, and all 
 was in commotion. As the king passed through the 
 crowd, it was silent and cold, save when the cry of 
 " privilege ! privilege !" was repeated, in suppressed mur- 
 murs ; and a pamphlet was thrown into his carriage, 
 headed, " To your tents, O Israel !" — the watchword of 
 the ten tribes of Israel, when they revolted from their 
 king. 
 
 Here is the beginning of the war. The parliament 
 found that it must surround itself with armed force for 
 self-protection — an armed force begat armed force, till 
 civil war broke forth in all its fury. Hitherto, Charles 
 had professed great affection and respect for parliament 
 — made endless promises, and broken them, "on the 
 word of a king." But now, farther duplicity was of no 
 avail — the mask was off, and hostilities had commenced, 
 and though peace could be, and was talked about, 
 parliament resolved never to let supreme power again 
 rest in the hands of a monarch who seemed to have no 
 moral sense respecting truth and falsehood. Besides, 
 the leaders of parliament knew that they now lived with 
 a halter about their necks, and let Charles once gain 
 the ascendancy he formerly held, he would make sum- 
 mary work with them. 
 
1641.] RECAPITULATION. 49 
 
 The king, with his court and family, now left White- 
 hall, never to revisit it again, except as he bid it farewell 
 to ascend the scaffold. Negotiations were for awhile 
 kept up between him and parliament — his sanction 
 to a bill excluding the imprisoned bishops from a 
 seat in the House of Lords, was asked ; and at length, 
 in order to secure the safe retreat of his wife into 
 France, given. Parliament also sent to know if he 
 would grant them "power of militia," (i. e. to raise 
 militia for their own defence,) and accept the list of 
 lord lieutenants made out by them. "No, by God," he 
 answered, " not for an hour ;" and so militia had to be 
 raised in some other way than through royal permission. 
 
 In this synopsis, the career and separate steps of the 
 revolution may be traced out. First, parliament wished 
 to place some restrictions on arbitrary power, nothing 
 more. The resistance and madness of Charles, aroused 
 indignation, and boldness, and discussion. The natural 
 result, was, clearer views of their own rights, and of the 
 injustice of the king's arbitrary conduct. The king in- 
 stead of yielding with grace, multiplied his tyrannical 
 acts, and incensed still more the commons of England. 
 Not satisfied with being himself a despot in civil mat- 
 ters, he allowed the fanatical Laud to be one in affairs 
 of the church. Thus, while he exasperated parlia- 
 ment, Laud maddened the people, and so transferred or 
 rather extended the quarrel from it, to every town in 
 the land; making the excitement and opposition uni- 
 versal. Slight reforms were sought in the first place, 
 but the principles of justice on which they were based, 
 
50 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 soon brought to light grievances, whose removal would 
 infringe still more on the sovereignty of the king. The 
 king resisted, but the commons stood firm, and as 
 soon as the people found they had a strong ally, they 
 brought in their grievances on religious matters. Bro- 
 ken promises, falsehoods, secret and open tyranny, every- 
 where practised by the king and his bishops, rendered 
 the breach between the monarch and his subjects still 
 wider, until at length, royal pikes gleamed around parlia- 
 ment. Assailed by physical force, parliament sought to 
 protect itself by physical force, and violence took the 
 place of discussion and remonstrance, and revolution 
 succeeded reformation. There was nothing unnatural 
 in all this — there will be the same result in every despot- 
 ism of Europe, so soon as there can be a representation 
 of the people, bold enough to ask justice. 
 
 For taking part in such a movement of the English 
 people — fighting bravely for the English Constitution and 
 English liberty ; and finally bringing the revolution to 
 the only peaceful termination it could have had — Oliver 
 Cromwell has been termed a regicide, a monster, and a 
 tyrant. But not so will he appear to future generations 
 — not so does he appear to us. In every step of his pro- 
 gress, we see the patriot and the honest man. There 
 are always the same massive features, grave counte- 
 nance and serious air, with here and there indications of 
 the volcano within. Whether wandering by the banks of 
 the Ouse, gloomy and desponding, as he attempts to look 
 into that mysterious eternity to which he is hastening — 
 or riding all fierce and terrible, amid his Ironsides; 
 
1642.] HIS CHARACTER. 51 
 
 through the smoke of battle — or with hat on his head, 
 stamping on the floor of parliament, and hurling defi- 
 ance on all around — or praying in the midst of the mid- 
 night storm, as life is receding; he is the same reso- 
 lute, thoughtful, and lofty man. vUnlike most distin- 
 guished characters, he entered on public life late, 
 and was forty years of age, before he took any part 
 in those scenes in which he was afterwards to be 
 the chief actor. ) His history is a forcible illustration of 
 the effect of circumstances on a man's fortune. Had 
 England remained quiet, Cromwell like Washington, 
 would have spent his energies on his farm, improving 
 his estate ; and died a good, straighforward English gen- 
 tleman. But the field which the revolution opened to 
 him, soon scattered his plans for the improvement of his 
 lands to the wind ; and the too severe, too contemplative 
 religionist, entered on a life of action, that left his disor- 
 dered fancy but little time to people his brain with 
 strange and gloomy forms. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE FIRST CIVIL WAR FROM 1642 TO THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 OF 1644. 
 
 Activity of Cromwell — Preparations for War — The King Erects his 
 Standard — Battle of Edgehill — Cromwell's Opinion of It— Resolves 
 to Raise his Ironsides — Their Character — Fight at Brentford — Enthu- 
 siasm of the Citizens of London — Cromwell Takes Croyland, Lowe- 
 stoff, Stamford and Burleigh House— Fight at Grantham — Fight at 
 Gainsborough — Death of Hampden — His Last Hours and Burial — His 
 Character — The Aid of Scotland Sought — Mob of Women in London 
 — Batde of Newbury — Cromwell Governor of Ely — Ratification of 
 the Covenant — Winceby Fight — Religious Character of the Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 Although parliament and the king occupied a warlike 
 attitude to each other, hostilities were still delayed, and 
 messages and missives, without end, passed between 
 them. The former had not yet made up its mind to do 
 without the latter, and sought only to abridge his power. 
 
 In the meantime, royalist writers used their pens with 
 such vigor, that the cause of parliament rapidly declined ; 
 and, at length, a petition from Kent was presented, 
 praying for the restoration of the royal prerogative, and 
 of episcopacy. It was rejected, and parliament, attribut- 
 ing it to the effects of the late writings of the royalists, 
 immediately instituted a severe censorship of the press. 
 But while things were in this state of uncertainty, 
 
1642.] cromwell's activity. 53 
 
 Cromwell did not remain inactive. In February, 1642, 
 he offered to lend parliament £500, to help quell the in- 
 surrection in Ireland. In April, he is found reporting to 
 the House of Commons, that the petition on prerogative 
 and episcopacy is about to be presented again, and 
 receives orders to prevent it. Leaving the statesmen 
 to manage things in the House, he occupied himself 
 with external matters — keeping alive the sympathy of the 
 people — watching and baffling the royalists, and exhibit- 
 ing the practical power which afterwards carried him 
 to such an elevation.* He already began to fulfil the 
 prediction made by his cousin Hampden of him to 
 Lord Digby. Cromwell, on a certain occasion, was 
 addressing the House in his abrupt, ardent manner, 
 when Lord Digby, who did not know him, bent forward 
 and asked Hampden who " that sloven" was. " That 
 sloven," replied, the latter, " whom you see before you, 
 hath no ornament in his speech — that sloven, I say, if 
 we should ever come to a breach with the king (which 
 God forbid) will be the greatest man in the kingdom" 
 
 In the meantime, negotiations failing, the king and 
 parliament prepared for war: — the former issued his 
 * commission of array," in order to raise an army ; and 
 the latter, their " ordinance for the militia," for the same 
 purpose. These two calls for troops, issued by two 
 different authorities, rapidly divided the land, and on 
 one and the other side, the people began to arrange 
 themselves. 
 
 In July, Cromwell asked permission of parliament to 
 * Vide Par. Hist. II., 1194, 
 
54 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 go down to Cambridge, and raise two companies of 
 volunteers — offering to give, himself, £100, towards de- 
 fraying the expenses. Here was high treason at the 
 outset, and if the king should conquer, loss of life would 
 follow; but he had taken his course, and not all the 
 kings in the world could turn him aside. Oxford sent its 
 plate to the king, to be melted down for royal use ; and 
 Cambridge was about to follow its example, when 
 Cromwell, hearing of it, hastened thither, and summon- 
 ing his train-bands, prevented it. 
 
 THE KING ERECTS HIS STANDARD. 
 
 This was August 15th, and eight days after, the king 
 erected the royal standard at Nottingham, and called his 
 subjects to rally around it. It was just at evening — the 
 sky was dark and gloomy, and the wind swept by in 
 gusts — when Charles rode out to a hill that overlooked 
 the town, accompanied by eight hundred horse, and a 
 few militia, and ordered his proclamation to be read. 
 The trumpets then sounded, and the standard, bearing 
 the motto, "Render unto Csesar the things that are 
 Caesar's," was hoisted to the top of the castle, and hailed 
 with acclamations of " God save the king !" The next 
 day, however, the wind blew it down. Charles was 
 angry that such an untoward accident should occur at 
 the outset, and commanded the heralds to plant it 
 outside the castle, in the open ground. This they at- 
 tempted to do ; but the soil was rocky, and resisted all 
 their efforts to sink the flag-staff in it. They then en- 
 
1642.] THE ARMIES TAKE THE FIELD. 55 
 
 deavored to dig a hole with their dagger-points, but for 
 several hours were compelled to hold the standard in 
 their hands. The spectators regarded it as a bad omen, 
 and went away filled with gloomy anticipations. 
 
 At length, however, a royal army of 12,000 men was 
 raised, and the cavalry placed under the bold and brutal 
 Prince Rupert, the king's nephew. The parliament had 
 succeeded, also, in bringing into the field 20,000 in- 
 fantry, and 4,500 horse, and given the command to the 
 Earl of Essex. The cavalry was divided into seventy- 
 five squadrons, each composed of sixty horse. Over 
 one of these Cromwell was appointed captain. His son 
 Oliver was also cornet in the , squadron under the Earl 
 of Bedford. Thus, father and son went forth together, 
 to offer up their lives for their country. 
 
 The parliamentary force assembled at Northampton, 
 and the nation looked forward, with breathless anxiety, 
 to the first encounter of the people with their king. 
 The country around no longer wore its peaceful look. 
 Troops of horse were seen crossing it in every direction 
 to the place of rendezvous ; and the blast of the bugle, 
 and roll of the drum, and tread of marching men, sent 
 terror through the quiet villages and rural districts of 
 England. They came pouring in from every quarter, 
 and when all were assembled, that army of nearly 25,000 
 men, presented a formidable array against King Charles 
 and his cavaliers. 
 
 After lying some time at Northampton, Essex at 
 length got in motion, and moving by easy marches, ar- 
 rived, on the 23d of September, at Worcester, within a 
 
5G OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 few leagues of the royal forces. Here he halted for 
 three weeks, as if his sole business was to wait the king's 
 pleasure. Charles, seeing the dilatoriness of his antago- 
 nist, resolved to march at once on London, and finish 
 the war by a single stroke. He immediately put his 
 troops in motion, and got three days' march ahead, 
 before Essex seemed to wake from his lethargy. Being 
 at last roused by the pressing danger of parliament and 
 London, he commenced the pursuit. But in the mean- 
 time the greatest alarm prevailed in the city. Every 
 hour the hostile army was drawing nearer, while the 
 forces of Essex were nowhere to be seen. The parlia- 
 ment, however, instead of being terror-struck, aroused 
 the people to resistance. All who had not voluntarily 
 subscribed to the support of the army were immediately 
 taxed, and those who refused to pay hurried off to 
 prison. The disaffected were deprived of arms ; every 
 stable in and about the town was forced to yield its 
 complement of horses, and squadrons of horse sprung 
 like magic into existence. Fortifications were hastily 
 thrown up, barricades erected, and chains strung across 
 the streets. A lofty enthusiasm had taken the place of 
 fear ; and women were seen plying the spade, and work- 
 ing at the fortifications — even young children toiled on 
 beside their mothers ; and delicate hands vied with each 
 other in the patriotic work. All day long the streets 
 echoed with the heavy blows of workmen, and tread 
 of marching men; and everything foretold a bloody 
 resistance. 
 
 But while London was in this state of excitement, not 
 
1642.] BATTLE OF EDGEHILL. 57 
 
 far off, in Warwickshire, the first act of the great tra- 
 gedy had begun. 
 
 BATTLE OF EDGEHILL. 
 
 Essex, leaving behind him several of his regiments, 
 and among them that of Hampden, and a part of his 
 artillery, pressed on after the king. For ten days the 
 rear of the royal columns and the van of Essex's were 
 only a few leagues apart, yet in mutual ignorance of 
 each other's movements. At length the latter overtook 
 the king near Keynton, and formed his troops at the 
 foot of an eminence called Edgehill. Charles immedi- 
 ately turned on his pursuers ; and on the 23d of October 
 the two armies drew up in front of each other in battle 
 array. It was Sunday, and many of the Puritan officers 
 were on their way to church, when messengers, galloping 
 along the road, called them back to the field. It is a 
 curious fact, that the Puritans preferred the Sabbath 
 above all other days on which to fight their battles. 
 This shows how sacred they viewed their cause, and 
 how certain they were of the smile of heaven. 
 
 During the whole forenoon the different commanders 
 were busy in arranging the order of battle. Here the 
 squadrons of cavalry stood in shining ranks, their hel- 
 mets glittering in the noon-day sun — and there moved 
 the dark masses of infantry. About two in the after- 
 noon the long roll of the drum was heard, and the 
 solid ranks began to advance. The artillery opened its 
 fire, the infantry went pouring to the charge with deaf- 
 3* 
 
58 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ening shouts, and that green spot in Warwickshire was 
 wrapt in clouds of smoke, and shook to the tread of 
 nearly forty thousand men. At length the bugles rang 
 along the hitherto silent squadrons of the parliamentary 
 cavalry, and the long lines of helmets rose and fell as the 
 steel-clad mass w r ent hurrying forward. But at this cri- 
 tical moment a colonel, Sir Faithful Fortescue, separated 
 himself with his regiment from the parliamentary force, 
 and spurred across to the lines of the royalists. This 
 defection, at the moment when the charge was to be 
 made, paralyzed the advancing squadrons, and broke the 
 shock ; for they did not know how many more regiments 
 would follow this dastardly example, and desert in the 
 very crisis of the conflict. Prince Rupert, however, 
 and his fierce horsemen, hailed the desertion with shouts 
 of applause : the next moment their bugles rang cheerily 
 out, and they burst on the disheartened cavalry with 
 such fury that the ranks of the latter were broken in the 
 first onset, and the whole four thousand became a herd 
 of fugitives, driving over the country — sabred down at 
 every step by their relentless pursuers. Leaving the 
 army to take care of itself, Prince Rupert and his men, 
 intent only on slaughter and "pillage, followed after the 
 flying cavalry — chasing them for two miles along the 
 road — and were stopped at last only by the columns of 
 Hampden, hastening to the battle-field. The latter 
 bringing his artillery to the front, and forming his men 
 in close order, soon sent the headlong cavalier back. 
 
 But while he had been following up his victory, the 
 tide of battle had turned against the king. Undismayed 
 
1642.] THE KING DEFEATED. 59 
 
 by the defeat of their cavalry, the parliamentary infantry 
 charged the royalists with such resolution that their 
 ranks were shattered and broken ; and Rupert returned 
 only to see the king's standard in the hands of the 
 enemy, and the Earl of Lindsey, the commander-in-chief, 
 mortally wounded, and a prisoner. From two o'clock 
 till night-fall, had it flamed and thundered there, at the 
 foot of Edgehill ; and now Rupert, as he reined his foam- 
 covered steed up beside the king, told him the day was 
 not yet wholly lost — one more charge, and it would be 
 won. But it was in vain they called on the squadrons 
 to charge again, for the king and the throne. The 
 horses were jaded out — the ranks broken — soldiers were 
 calling after their officers, and officers after their sol- 
 diers ; and all was confusion and wreck there, on the 
 trodden and dead-covered field, while Essex had a strong- 
 reserve still in complete array, in the distance. 
 
 Darkness at length wrapt the scene, and silence fell 
 on the plain, and both armies lay down amid the dead 
 and wounded, to wait for the morning sun to light them 
 again to the strife. 
 
 At daybreak the anxious king arose and surveyed the 
 wreck of his army — a third of its number was gone ; 
 some dead, others wounded ; and others still, famished 
 with hunger and cold, had fled to their homes. He wish- 
 ed to renew the fight, so as to advance on London, but 
 dared not risk an engagement. 
 
 At the council held in the parliamentary camp in the 
 morning, Hampden, Holies, and Stapleton, and others, 
 wished to make one more charge on the lung's forces. 
 
60 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 The fresh regiments they said would advance cheerfully 
 to the conflict, while the royal troops, dispirited and 
 reduced, would be easily broken. But some of the old 
 officers, bound down by continental rules, opposed this 
 opinion ; declaring that the raw recruits had fought one 
 glorious battle, and it was expecting too much to suppose 
 they would fight another so soon. Besides, London was 
 saved, and it was unwise to risk all in another engage- 
 ment. This tame and miserable council prevailed, and 
 the two armies separated — the king establishing his head- 
 quarters at Oxford. 
 
 This was Cromwell's first fight — he was in the cav- 
 alry, which, broken at the charge of Rupert's horsemen, 
 had turned in affright over the field. How he bore him- 
 self in the struggle, we have no account ; but judging of 
 his actions from his character and after career, troop 
 sixty-seven found, in that day's overthrow, that they had 
 a gallant leader. 
 
 His conversation with his cousin Hampden about it 
 afterwards, shows with what bitter feelings he remem- 
 bered his discomfiture; while the bold resolution he 
 took and carried out, to raise a body of horsemen of 
 his own selection, proves that he, on that day, was one 
 of the sternest and steadiest in the fight. Speaking of 
 the superiority of the royalist cavalry, he said, " How 
 can it be otherwise : your horse are, for the most part, 
 superannuated domestics, tapsters, and people of that 
 sort ; theirs are the sons of gentlemen — men of quality. 
 Do you think such poor vagabonds as your fellows have 
 soul enough to stand against gentlemen full of resolution 
 
1642.] THE IRONSIDES. 61 
 
 and honor ?" " You are right," replied Hampden ; " but 
 how can it be helped ?" " I can do something towards 
 it," answered Cromwell, " and I will : I will raise men 
 who have the fear of God before their eyes ; men who 
 will bring some conscience to what they do ; and I pro- 
 mise you they shall not be beaten." 
 
 Carrying out this resolution, he, the next winter, form- 
 ed the nucleus of that famous body of horse which, at 
 the battle of Marston Moor, received the name of " Iron- 
 sides." He chose for it wealthy farmers, and the sons of 
 farmers — men to whom wages were no object, and who 
 fought for conscience sake alone. Stern religionists, like 
 himself, he had no occasion to deceive them by holding 
 out false motives. He said to them frankly, "I do not 
 wish you to believe, as my commission has it, that you 
 are going to fight for the king and parliament ; for if the 
 king were before me I would as soon shoot him as 
 another : if your conscience will not allow you to do as 
 much, go and serve elsew r here." j He thus got around 
 him a body of men who scorned idleness and pleasure ; 
 and submitting cheerfully to his rigid discipline, bore pri- 
 vations and toils without a murmur, nay, with enthusias- 
 tic pride, for often their gallant leader slept beside them 
 on the cold earth, and shared all their hardships. Fight- 
 ing under the special protection of heaven, and for God 
 and religion, they would rush to battle as to a banquet, 
 and embrace death with rapture. Here were Napoleon's 
 famous cuirassiers of the Imperial Guard, under whose 
 terrible charge the best infantry in the world went down. 
 Borne up, however, by a higher sentiment than glory, 
 
62 OLIVER CROM W ELL. 
 
 they carried in their charge greater power ; and this 
 body of a thousand horse was never beaten. When with 
 the fearful war-cry, " Religion," Cromwell hurled them 
 on the foe, the tide of battle was always turned. As a 
 proof of their religious sincerity, it need only be said 
 that they chose Richard Baxter for their chaplain, who 
 declined; but said subsequently if he had known that all 
 the fire was in that one spark, he would have accepted, 
 and endeavored to prevent the after conflagration. 
 
 To return to the course of events immediately after 
 the battle of Edgehill; while Essex watched the king, 
 who still held his quarters at Oxford, Rupert, with 
 his desperate troopers, ravaged the country, pillaging and 
 destroying — bolcUy dashing up to the outskirts of London. 
 In the meantime, negotiations were re-opened with the 
 king. While they were pending, Charles, with his usual 
 perfidy, advanced on London, and arriving at Brentford, 
 within seven miles of the city, fell with his whole force 
 on Holies' regiment quartered there. But this gallant 
 little band held their ground so firmly that Hampden and 
 Lord Brook had time to arrive with their regiments, be- 
 fore it gave way. The latter, hurrying on their columns 
 with shbuts to the attack, checked the victorious royal- 
 ists, and hour after hour withstood the whole weight of 
 the king's army. The cannonading was heard in Lon- 
 don, where an armistice had been resolved upon, and 
 was mistaken for distant thunder. But Essex, who was 
 in the House of Lords at the time, no sooner heard the 
 dull and heavy explosions, than his practised ear knew 
 full w T ell their meaning, and calling for his horse, sprang 
 
1642.] the king's perfidy. 63 
 
 into his saddle, and putting himself at the head of what 
 force he could instantly muster, sallied forth. He ar- 
 rived in time, however, only to find those regiments 
 broken and repulsed, and the king's troops occupying 
 Brentford. 
 
 London was filled with terror and rage at this new 
 act of perfidy on the part of the king ; and believing that 
 he was now bent on storming the city, made desperate 
 efforts to raise an army. Volunteers began to assemble 
 from every part of the town in crowds ; the city itself 
 voted four thousand of its enrolled militia, and appointed 
 Skippon their commander. This brave and heroic man 
 put himself at their head, saying, " Come, my boys, my 
 brave boys, let us pray heartily and fight heartily. I 
 will run the same fortunes and hazards with you. Re- 
 member the cause is for God, and for the defence of 
 yourselves, your wives and children. Come, my honest 
 and brave boys, pray heartily and fight heartily, and 
 God will bless us." All that day and night this enthu- 
 siastic yet motley army was filing out of the city, fol- 
 lowed by parliament and crowds of men and women ; 
 and two days after the king's attack on Holies' regi- 
 ment, Essex reviewed twenty-four thousand men on 
 Turnham-Green. The king's outposts were in sight, 
 and a bloody battle was momentarily expected. Hamp- 
 den, with his usual boldness, advised an immediate at- 
 tack, but the majority of the officers were against it, 
 and the king was allowed to return and take up his 
 winter quarters at Oxford. 
 
 Negotiations were again opened between him and 
 
04 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 parliament, and the war around the centre of operations 
 languished. But in the country it was different. As- 
 sociations were formed in every part, either for the king 
 or parliament, and commissions granted them to raise 
 troops and appoint officers. Of these associations the 
 Eastern, embracing the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, 
 Essex and Hertz,* was the chief one for parliament — in- 
 deed the only one that survived and flourished. Lord 
 Grey commanded here, but Cromwell was the principal 
 actor. These associations kept up during the winter 
 the war which was suspended between the main armies. 
 Rupert rode over the country with his troopers, plun- 
 dering and destroying; and small detachments fre- 
 quently came in collision, with various success. 
 
 It was during this winter, 1642-3, that Cromwell en- 
 rolled, as before stated, his Ironsides. Riding hither and 
 thither, to collect troops and repel invasion, the hidden 
 energy of the man began to develop itself, and his amaz- 
 ing practical pow T er to be felt. He was everywhere 
 present, rallying the true-hearted, punishing the disaf- 
 fected, breaking up royalist assemblages, and carrying off 
 royalists' plate. 
 
 Early in the spring, we find him called Colonel Crom- 
 well, though the date of his appointment is not known. 
 He was at Cambridge on the first of March, the rendez- 
 vous appointed for the adherents of parliament enlisted 
 during the winter. Soon finding himself surrounded 
 with a large force, he compelled Lord Capel, who had 
 been threatening Cambridge, to retire. In St. Albans 
 * Other counties afterwards came in. 
 
1643.] ATTACK ON LOWESTOFF. 65 
 
 the High Sheriff endeavored to execute the "commis- 
 sion of array " of the king on market day ; but in the 
 midst of his duties, though surrounded by a strong body 
 guard, he was suddenly charged by Cromwell's troopers, 
 who took him prisoner, and hurried him off to parliament 
 to answer for his acts. " ' Commissions of array/ are 
 not handy to execute in the Eastern Association at pre- 
 sent."* In this same month, while at Norwich, he was 
 informed that the town of Lowestoff was fortifying it- 
 self; and the next morning, before daylight, was off with 
 his troops. Forming a junction with the Yarmouth 
 volunteers, who had five pieces of cannon with them, 
 he boldly advanced on the town, and summoned it to 
 surrender. But the inhabitants refused, and blocked 
 themselves in. Not an opening was left except where 
 three cannon were placed to fire on the assailants, while 
 in front of these a strong chain was stretched to keep 
 off the dragoons. Nothing daunted, the dragoons dis- 
 mounted, and crawling under the chain, advanced to 
 within pistol-shot of the cannoniers, and aimed their 
 pistols at their heads. The latter immediately turned 
 and fled, and the dragoons, breaking asunder the chain, 
 mounted their horses and dashed into the town. 
 
 FIGHT AT GRANTHAM. 
 
 In May of this same year, 1643, Cromwell advanced 
 on Lincolnshire, which was overrun by the Marquis of 
 Newcastle's army. With his twelve troops, some eight 
 
 * Vide Carlyle. 
 
66 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 hundred horse in all, scattering everything before him, he 
 came in sight, on the evening of the thirteenth, of a body 
 of cavalry, nearly double in number to his own. But 
 though wearied with his long march, and opposed by 
 such an overwhelming force, he nevertheless boldly re- 
 solved on an immediate attack. The disparity of the 
 respective forces was increased still more by the miser- 
 able horses on which many of Cromwell's men were 
 mounted. He had not as yet obtained for them those 
 noble and high-blooded animals, which afterwards made 
 the charge of the Ironsides so resistless. 
 
 Cromwell, however, drew up his squadrons in order 
 of battle, about two miles from the town. It was a 
 spring evening — the country was in full verdure, and 
 the long shadows cast by the declining sun, slept tran- 
 quilly on the green sward beside the troopers. At first, 
 the dragoons, on both sides, stood off at long musket 
 shot, and fired at each other for half an hour. Crom- 
 well becoming impatient, and finding that the enemy 
 had no intention of charging him, ordered the trumpets 
 to sound along his lines. Passing from a walk to a rapid 
 trot, they, at the shout of their leader, fell upon the royal- 
 ists with such resolution, that they rode straight through 
 their ranks, and routing them, hewed them down with 
 their sabres for two miles. 
 
 About this time, also, the parliamentary forces under 
 Sir William Waller, in the south and west, scattered 
 the royalists, taking seven towns in succession, which 
 awakened such, enthusiasm that he was styled, "William 
 the Conqueror." 
 
1643.] TIGHT AT GAINSBOROUGH. 67 
 
 Never idle, Cromwell, in the meanwhile, kept scour- 
 ing the country. He raised the siege of Croyland — 
 took Stamford, and driving the cavaliers before him 
 into Burleigh House, closely invested it. Opening all 
 his cannon upon it, he no sooner made a breach in the 
 walls, than he gave orders for the assault. At three 
 o'clock in the morning, the signal was given, and storm- 
 ing over those strong defences, he swept them like a 
 hurricane. 
 
 FIGHT AT GAINSBOROUGH. 
 
 Hardly giving his little army time to breathe, he next 
 advanced on Gainsborough — being reinforced on the 
 way, by several troops of horse from Nottingham and 
 Lincolnshire. This town was held by Lord Willoughby, 
 in the name of the parliament, but Lord Newcastle, with 
 his whole army was rapidly advancing upon it. The 
 queen having returned from Holland in February, with 
 soldiers, ammunition, &c, had co-operated with New- 
 castle, who, after having been gallantly withstood, for 
 awhile, by Fairfax, at length overthrew him at Atherton 
 Moor ; and following up his victory, was on the point of 
 wresting the whole of Lincolnshire from Lord Wil- 
 loughby. 
 
 It was this news that brought Cromwell and his 
 riders so swiftly over the country. With that sud- 
 denness and daring which characterized him, he threw 
 himself between the advance division of Newcastle, 
 commanded by General Cavendish, and the town. Driv- 
 ing before him a troop of a hundred horse, he came in 
 
68 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 sight of the enemy, strongly posted on a steep hill, at the 
 base of which ran a high fence, with only one gateway 
 leading to the summit. It was a spectacle that might 
 have daunted even a bolder heart than Oliver's; for, 
 independent of the strength of their position, the enemy 
 outnumbered him three to one, while on this single gate- 
 way was kept up a constant and destructive fire. 
 Cromwell, however, shouting to his men to follow, spur- 
 red fearlessly into the gap. Inspired by his daring, they 
 plunged after — and as they filed through behind him, he 
 formed them by sections, and gallantly charging up hill 
 through the cloud of skirmishers that obstructed his way, 
 gained the summit. Reining in his steed and casting 
 his eye over the plateau, he surveyed at a glance the 
 whole extent of the danger before him. Near by, in 
 close array, stood the dark and overwhelming squad- 
 rons of the enemy, while in the rear, was a full regiment 
 of horse in reserve. Intending to crush Cromwell be- 
 fore he could form his troops, Cavendish gave the order 
 to charge. Not waiting, however, to receive the shock, 
 Oliver ordered his trumpets to sound, and summon- 
 ing his followers on, fell with enthusiastic shouts on the 
 advancing squadrons. The shock was firmly met — and 
 horse to horse, and hand to hand, with pistol shot and 
 sabre stroke, they strove for the mastery ; while over all, 
 rose the war-cry of the Puritans, and the rallying shout 
 of the royalists. At length, the latter began to yield, 
 when, spurring in upon them, Cromwell broke their 
 ranks asunder, and scattered them over the field. With 
 that quick perception, however, and great self-command, 
 
1637.] THE VICTORY. 69 
 
 which distinguished him as a leader, he instantly detect- 
 ed the threatening aspect of the still unbroken reserve of 
 Cavendish, and as quickly prepared for its onset. Four 
 troops of the Lincolners were all that were left on the 
 field to meet this fresh force, and knowing that they 
 must go down at the first charge, he ordered Whalley to 
 sound a recall and rally to his troops; and arresting two 
 troops of his own men in their career, let the flight 
 and pursuit pass on, and wheeled in the rear of the en- 
 emy. He was hardly in charging order, before Caven- 
 dish fell on the Lincolners in front, with such strength, 
 that they were utterly routed. The next instant, the 
 bugles of Cromwell rung out, and charging like fire with 
 his three troops on the victorious royalists, he forced 
 them to the verge of the hill and over it. Breaking 
 down the steep declivity, the terror-stricken fugitives' 
 fled over the field, smote at every step by the swords of 
 the Puritans. Cavendish himself, plunging into a mo- 
 rass in his hasty flight, was overtaken and slain. 
 
 The defeat was total, and Cromwell marched in 
 triumph into the place and relieved it. Hearing of a 
 large force in another direction, he sent out his men, who, 
 instead of finding a regiment or two, unexpectedly came 
 upon the whole of Newcastle's army. Hastening to their 
 relief, Cromwell, by a skilful and masterly retreat, suc- 
 ceeded, however, in bringing them off safely, But his 
 force was too small to hold the town — and notwithstand- 
 ing his gallant and daring attempt to save it, he was 
 compelled to retire before the advancing columns of the 
 enemy. 
 
70 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 " In the very hour while Cromwell was storming the 
 sand hills near Gainsborough, " by some tracks," hon- 
 orable gentlemen at St. Stephen's were voting him 
 governor of the isle of Ely. Ely, in the heart of the 
 Fens, a place of great military capability, is much 
 troubled with " corrupt ministers," with " corrupt train- 
 bands," and understood to be in a perilous state, where- 
 fore they nominate Cromwell to take charge of it." # 
 
 DEATH OF HAMPDEN. 
 
 But while success was thus attending the arms of 
 Cromwell in the Eastern Association, fortune frowned 
 on the cause of parliament in other parts of England : 
 for, added to the "defeat of Fairfax, and overthrow of 
 Waller, came the untimely death of the brave, the noble 
 Hampden. Operating with the army of Essex, which 
 watched that of the king, he in a skirmish, on Sunday, 
 with Rupert's cavalry, near Chalgrove field, was mor- 
 tally wounded. Though a colonel in the army, he put 
 himself at the head of a small detachment, and despite 
 the remonstrances of his friends, and the overpowering 
 numbers of the enemy, charged into their midst with 
 his accustomed gallantry. Struck by a brace of bul- 
 lets between the shoulders, he turned his horse out of the 
 'fight. He was seen slowly leaving the field, before the 
 action was over, "with his head hanging down, and rest- 
 ing his hands upon the neck of his horse." He first mov- 
 ed away towards his father-in-law's house, at Pyrton, but 
 
 * Vide Carlyle, p. 141. 
 
1643.] DEATH OF HAMPDEN. 71 
 
 his fading eye catching the cloud of Rupert's cavalry 
 covering the field, he turned his horse, and rode across 
 the country towards Thame. Coming to the edge of a 
 brook, he stopped and reeled in his saddle, then sum- 
 moning all his energies, drove his spurs into his steed, 
 and cleared the ravine at a single leap. He, at length, 
 reached Thame, fainting with the loss of blood, where 
 his wounds were dressed. He lingered six days in 
 great pain, spending all his time in dictating letters to 
 parliament, urging on them those plans which his far- 
 seeing mind knew 3;o be indispensable to success, and 
 which the indolence and dilatoriness of the commander- 
 in-chief had hitherto rendered abortive. But his final 
 hour drew nigh, and partaking of the last sacrament, he 
 poured forth his soul in prayer. Even in that solemn 
 hour, the patriot plead more for his country than for 
 himself. His choked and difficult utterance gave vent 
 to such expressions as "O Lord, save my bleeding- 
 country. Have these realms in thy special keeping. 
 Confound and level in the dust those who would rob the 
 people of their liberty and lawful prerogative. Let the 
 king see his error, and turn the hearts of his wicked 
 counsellors from the malice and wickedness of their 
 designs. Lord Jesus, receive , my soul." He then 
 paused, and as the death-rattle was gathering in his 
 throat, mournfully exclaimed, " O Lord, save my coun- 
 try. O Lord, be merciful to" **** — the sentence was 
 never finisned, and falling back, his spirit fled to a better 
 world. 
 
 With arms reversed, muffled drums, and banners 
 
72 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 hung in crape, his faithful and stricken soldiers fol- 
 lowed him to his grave amid the woods of the Chil- 
 terns, singing mournfully as they went, the ninetieth 
 Psalm : " Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling-place in all 
 generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, 
 or ever Thou hadst formed the earth and the world, 
 even from everlasting to everlasting, Thou art God. 
 Thou turnest man to destruction ; and sayest, return, ye 
 children of men. * ## Thou carryest them away as 
 with a flood ; they are as a sleep ; in the morning they 
 are like grass which groweth up." **** Firing the 
 last volley over his grave, they marched slowly back, 
 singing the forty-third psalm. Sternly and sadly 
 rolled along their lines, " Judge me, O God, and plead 
 my cause against an ungodly nation: Oh, deliver me 
 from the deceitful and unjust man. For Thou art the 
 God of my strength : why dost Thou cast me off? 
 why go I mourning because of the oppression of the 
 enemy ?" #### 
 
 Could one have heard that solemn hymn, he w T ould 
 not charge those brave yet melancholy men with hypo- 
 crisy. Not over imaginary wrongs did the dying 
 Hampden pour his departing soul — not in miserable 
 cant did his bereaved soldiers chant the psalms of David, 
 as they bore him to his last resting-place. 
 
 Thus died the immortal Hampden, shot on his fiftieth 
 birth-day. Pure in heart; just in judgment; cautious, 
 yet daring ; peaceful, yet brave ; calm, yet resolute and 
 firm ; given to no outbursts of passion ; provoked by no 
 wrong to malice ; swerved by no oppression from his 
 
1643.] TROUBLES IN THE PARLIAMENT. 73 
 
 strict integrity; a true Christian; an incorruptible 
 patriot, and a noble man, the soil of England covers no 
 better dust ; and liberty mourns no more spotless a mar- 
 tyr. With what feelings Cromwell received the news 
 of the death of his cousin, we know not. But when he 
 remembered how many such men had been sacrificed to 
 gratify the pride, the miserable ambition of a tyrannical 
 king, no wonder, at the last, he felt no misgivings when 
 he saw his head roll on the scaffold. 
 
 During this summer, parliament struggled in a sea of 
 difficulties. For not only were its armies defeated at 
 almost every point, and the friends of liberty struck 
 dumb by the death of Hampden, on whom the chief 
 hopes were placed ; but a conspiracy against itself was 
 discovered, in which Edmund Waller, the poet, was 
 one of the principal actors. Pardoning the treacher- 
 ous, whining and cowardly poet, as it would a state 
 witness, it executed two of his companions, and the plot 
 was rendered innocuous. 
 
 The successes of the royalists, coming on the top of 
 this plot, more than counterbalanced .the news of Crom- 
 well's succcess, which soon after reached parliament. 
 The House of Lords and Commons became divided — 
 Essex was idle; demanding money, clothes, ammunition 
 and arms, for his soldiers — the queen had joined the 
 king, bringing reinforcements of cannon and of men; 
 and the heavens began to brighten over the head of the 
 besotted Charles. Taking courage at this change in the 
 aspect of affairs, he issued a proclamation, declaring that 
 the parliament assembled at Westminster was no parlia- 
 4 
 
74 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ment at all ; and forbade all his subjects to obey that 
 "band of traitors." This foolish act immediately re- 
 stored union between the two houses; and on July 
 5th, they voted to send commissioners to Scotland 
 to ask its aid. Peace was restored in London; and 
 every morning, at the beat of the drum, the citizens — 
 men, women, children, the old and young — repaired vol- 
 untarily to the fortifications, and there worked till night- 
 fall. 
 
 But while the commissioners were on the way to 
 Scotland, the king coming to his senses issued a milder 
 proclamation. The House of Lords, sick of the hor- 
 rors of civil war, then sent proposals more moderate 
 than had heretofore been presented. The war party 
 in the House of Commons, seized with fear, strain- 
 ed every nerve to defeat this project. Tumult was 
 again abroad; and at length, on the 9th of August, 
 a mob of- three thousand women, which by noon 
 had increased to five thousand, assembled around the 
 House of Commons, demanding, with loud cries, that 
 the proposals of peace made by the House of Lords 
 should be adopted. They penetrated even to the door of 
 the hall, shouting, "peace! teace!" The guard of 
 militia forced them back down stairs, firing a few shots 
 over their heads. Unintimidated, however, they cried 
 out, " it is only powder," and began to hurl stones at the 
 soldiers. The latter then fired point blank upon them, 
 while a squadron of horse charged into their midst. 
 Making a lane for the cavalry to pass, these maddened 
 women shouted forth curses and hailed blows on the 
 
1643.] MOB OP WOMEN. 75 
 
 riders. For a few moments, it was a scene of wild and 
 fearful tumult — swords flashed' over dishevelled locks, 
 and the strong war-horse pushed against the tender 
 breast of woman. But at length terror took the place of 
 passion, and they fled, leaving two of their number dead 
 in the street, and some six or eight more lying beside 
 them, wounded and weeping. 
 
 The war party triumphed, and many of the lords re- 
 tired from parliament, refusing to take farther part in its 
 proceedings. Harmony was restored, and vast prepara- 
 tions were immediately set on foot to renew the war. 
 By the 24th of August, Essex found himself at the head 
 of 14,000 men, and immediately departed for Glouces- 
 ter, which the king had been blockading for a fortnight. 
 On the 5th of September, he drew up his army on 
 the heights of Presburg, five miles from Gloucester, 
 and in sight of the king's camp. Charles, who, after 
 having in vain attempted to reduce this gallantly defend- 
 ed place, had devastated the surrounding country, now 
 hastily set fire to his quarters and retreated. Essex en- 
 tered the town, the 8th of September, and two days after 
 turned his steps back towards London. Rupert, how- 
 ever, with 5,000 horse, dashed across the country, and 
 falling on the rear of his army, made havoc for awhile, 
 but was at length beaten back. Still he continued to 
 hang threateningly on its flanks — thus impeding its . 
 march, until the king, who, bent on redeeming his 
 error, had got in front, and was prepared to dispute the 
 further advance of Essex. On the 19th of September, 
 the earl, on approaching Newbury, found his way 
 
76 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 blocked by the whole royal army, drawn up in good 
 order, upon commanding heights. A battle was now 
 unavoidable, and he pitched his camp within sight of 
 the enemy's lines. 
 
 BATTLE OF NEWBURY. 
 
 It was a bright starlit night, and those two hosts lay 
 down upon the dewy grass with their arms in their 
 hands. The next morning, at daybreak, drum and 
 trumpet called the Puritans to arms, and Essex ordered 
 a charge on the principal height. It succeeded, and 
 when the unclouded sun mounted the heavens, its flash- 
 ing beams fell on a sulphurous and agitated cloud, amid 
 which, and over which, glittered steel points and bur- 
 nished helmets, in endless confusion. It was a hot day, 
 and many of the royalist leaders threw aside their doub- 
 lets, and led their men to the charge in their shirt 
 sleeves. Amid the thick smoke, Rupert's masses of cav- 
 alry went plunging on, disregarding alike the broken and 
 hilly field, and the serried pikes of the infantry. With 
 the highest chivalric feeling on the one side, and reso- 
 lute determined bravery on the other, the battle was 
 terrific. Neither party would give way. Conspicuous 
 with his white hat, Sir Philip Stapleton did wonders — 
 now leading up the parliamentary cavalry, and now 
 steadying the raw militia, and infusing his own daring 
 into the troops. Rupert, who had hitherto found no in- 
 fantry able to sustain the shock of his cavalry, flung him- 
 self again and again on the raw train-bands of London. 
 This was their first battle, but instead of showing terror, 
 
1643.] BATTLE OP NEWBURY. 77 
 
 with their pikes advanced, they received every charge 
 with the cool resolution of veterans. On came the 
 thousands of Rupert's horse, yet those pike points never 
 wavered, while a rolling volley emptied the saddles with 
 frightful rapidity. Three times did this maddened and 
 desperate cavalier throw himself on those raw recruits, 
 and yet each time those ranks of blue hurled him • 
 back. Thus, through the fresh and dewy morning, past 
 the hot noon, till deep twilight, the battle raged. 
 
 At last, the firing ceased; and the recall of the 
 trumpets alone was heard, save when a single cannon 
 now and then shook the field. On the ground where 
 they had struggled — amid the dead and dying — the two 
 tired armies lay down to sleep. The next morning, at 
 daybreak, Essex again prepared for battle, but no enemy 
 was in sight. In the night, the dispirited royalists had 
 retreated, leaving the road open to London. The en- 
 raged Rupert still hung upon the rear of the republicans, 
 but he could not impede their march. 
 
 This battle raised high again the hopes of the patriots. 
 The king had been defeated with the loss of some of the 
 most gallant spirits in his army ; four lords had fallen on 
 the field which they had struggled with the exposure of 
 the meanest soldier to win ; and among them the young 
 and gallant Falkland.* 
 
 * This young nobleman was distinguished for his learning, probity 
 and wisdom. At the age of twenty, coming into the possession of a 
 large fortune, he had used it wisely, and fitted himself by study and 
 travel for the highest station. But at the commencement of the war 
 he became moddy ; doing nothing in parliament until negotiations of 
 peace were entered on ; when he would immediately become more 
 
78 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 On the 25th of September, Essex entered London, 
 and was received with acclamations by the people, while 
 solemn thanks were decreed him by both Houses of 
 Parliament. 
 
 While affairs had thus been going on in and around 
 parliament, but little of note had occurred in the Eastern 
 Association. The Earl of Manchester, the former Lord 
 Mandevil, whose oppression of the tenants of the 
 Queen's Manor, Cromwell, according to Clarendon, 
 opposed with such violence and passion in the com- 
 mittee appointed by parliament to settle the difficulty, 
 was given the command, with Cromwell under him, as 
 one of his four colonels. The latter soon became 
 second in command, and was busy in raising recruits 
 and disciplining his troops. Requiring his regiment 
 to have good horses, and keep them well, and their 
 arms well burnished, and punishing profanity and 
 drunkenness by fines, he established such order among 
 them, that they, at length, became the elite of the army. 
 Sharing all their toils and privations, he at the same 
 time w r on their affection and confidence, and could 
 carry them steadily even to the cannon's mouth. 
 
 erect and vigorous, and exceedingly solicitous to press anything that 
 might promote it ; and sitting among his friends, often after a deep 
 silence and pregnant sigh, would, with a shrill and sad accent, ingemi- 
 nate the word peace, peace. He said that the horrors of the war, and 
 desolation of the kingdom " took his sleep from him, and would shortly 
 Dreak his heart." This melancholy never left him except on the eve of 
 battle ; when he became cheerful, and where the shot fell thickest, and 
 the shock was heaviest, there he sought to be. He was thirty-three 
 years of ago when he fell, — Vide Clarendon, page 434. 
 
1643.] LEAGUE AND COVENANT. 79 
 
 The autumn of this year was distinguished by events 
 which completely changed the aspect of affairs in Eng- 
 land. The commissioners, one of whom was Sir Henry 
 Vane, who had been sent to negotiate a treaty with the 
 Scotch, had succeeded, and a "solemn league and 
 covenant" been drawn up, which waited only the 
 signature of parliament to be binding. The main arti- 
 cle in this league was, that the two kingdoms should 
 establish a common and uniform system of reformed 
 religion, corresponding to that of the Scotch Church. 
 Should the English parliament subscribe to it, Scotland 
 bound herself to raise a powerful army, to act with the 
 rebel forces against the king. The news of this trans- 
 action carried alarm to the royalists, and the king 
 immediately sent his commands to the Scotch, forbid- 
 ding them to make such a covenant. Their reply had 
 as much dry humor in it, as downright seriousness. 
 They "humbly advised his majesty to take the covenant 
 himself." 
 
 On the 25th of September the members of parliament, 
 together with the assembly of a hundred and twenty- 
 one divines, to whom the covenant had been submitted, 
 repaired, to the church of St. Margaret, and with heads 
 uncovered, and uplifted hands, took the oath, and 
 afterwards signed their names to the compact.* 
 
 After Cromwell, who had resumed his seat for awhile 
 in parliament, for that purpose, had signed the league 
 
 * The House of Lords had now become small in number, while that 
 of the Commons was only about half of its original size, containing but 
 two hundred and twenty members . 
 
80 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 and covenant, he hastened back to Lincolnshire, to his 
 regiment; where Manchester soon after arrived with 
 7000 troops. At the same time, Sir Thomas Fairfax, 
 son of Lord Fairfax, joined him with a body of cavalry, 
 with which he had escaped from Hull, then seriously 
 threatened by Newastle. Henderson, a veteran officer, 
 who commanded the royal posts in this quarter, was 
 anxious to measure strength with Cromwell ; and hearing 
 of his approach set out in search of him. 
 
 WINCEBY FIGHT. 
 
 By a- skilful manoeuvre, he suddenly appeared, with a 
 vastly superior force, before Cromwell and Fairfax; 
 while Manchester, with the main army, was a day's 
 march in the rear. It was Henderson's plan to crush 
 this body of cavalry and dragoons, numbering between 
 2000 and 3000, before the arrival of the main army, and 
 he seemed now in a fair way to accomplish it. Crom- 
 well himself was startled, as he saw the glittering 
 squadrons suddenly deploy, in great numbers, on 
 Winceby field. His horses were fagged, worn down 
 by the heavy marches of the last three days, and it was 
 doubtful how they would stand the shock of a fresh and 
 superior force. It was but a moment, however, that 
 he hesitated — with his usual daring and confidence, he 
 gave orders to prepare for battle. In an instant, all was 
 joy and enthusiasm. Fairfax, catching the inspiration, 
 exclaimed, "Come, let us fall on; I never prospered 
 better than when I fought against the enemy three or 
 
1643.] WINCEBY FIGHT. 81 
 
 four to one." It was twelve o'clock of a fine October 
 day, when the watchword, "Religion," ran along the 
 squadrons of Cromwell. That of the royalists, was 
 "Cavendish," who was slain at Gainsborough. At 
 length, the bugles sounded through the Puritan host, 
 and away dashed those fierce horsemen, shouting as they 
 went. They charged in separate bodies; falling in 
 like successive waves upon the shore, and each singing, 
 in tones of thunder, as it charged, a psalm of David. 
 That lofty hymn pealed on over the deafening tramp of 
 the squadrons and clatter of armor — the strangest sound 
 that ever was heard on a battle-field. Cromwell led 
 the foremost body, shouting, as he rode at the head of 
 his squadron, "In the name of the Most High, charge!" 
 A volley met them midway, but onward, through the 
 smoke, still thundering forth that stirring psalm, they 
 swept full on the head of the hostile column. At the 
 moment of collision, another volley smote them, and 
 Cromwell's steed sunk under him. Extricating himself 
 from the struggling animal, he rose to his feet, but was 
 immediately struck down by one of the enemy, who 
 were now mingled in a hand-to-hand fight with his fol- 
 lowers. In an instant, a body of horse closed around 
 him. Stunned, but not wounded, he recovered himself, 
 and seizing a soldier's horse, leaped into the saddle, 
 and with a thrilling shout, dashed into the midst of the 
 fight. Broken through and disordered, the- first line of 
 the enemy fell back on the reserve, which was also 
 thrown into confusion ; and in a half hour's time from 
 the first charge, that noble array was scattered like chaff 
 4* 
 
82 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 before the wind. The chase was kept up for six miles, 
 even to the gates of Lincoln. Along one lane, into 
 which the fugitives were crowded, the carnage was 
 frightful. The fields were covered with slain horses 
 and men — more than 600 being killed outright, and as 
 many more taken prisoners.* 
 
 This brilliant victory closed the campaign of 1G43, 
 and the partizan leader, Cromwell, began to acquire a 
 fame that even that of Essex and Fairfax could not 
 overshadow. 
 
 From this time on, the revolution became essentially 
 a religious one. Strengthened by its alliance with Scot- 
 land, parliament had but little fear that it w r ould not be 
 able to make successful head against the king. 
 
 All the reforms demanded in the state, had now been 
 obtained. Hitherto, nothing was needed to restore 
 peace, except guarantees on the part of Charles, that he 
 would adopt the changes that had been made, and pre- 
 serve the liberties and rights already secured. By doing 
 this, he could at any time have re-occupied his throne. 
 But now, the subjects of church government and religious 
 doctrine overcame all questions of state, agitating the 
 kingdom from limit to limit, and widening the breach be T 
 tween the people and their sovereign. To make mat- 
 ters still worse, while parliament were negotiating with 
 the Presbyterian Scotch, Charles had been signing a 
 treaty of peace with the Catholic Irish; and only a few 
 days before the ratification of the league and covenant, 
 
 * Vide Scottish Dove, Oct. 13—20, 1643, cited in the Statesmen of 
 the Commonwealth of England, page 43. 
 
RELIGIOUS SECTS. 83 
 
 the news was received that the ten regiments sent to 
 humble the Irish rebels, had been recalled. These two, 
 so widely diverse acts, produced the greatest excite- 
 ment throughout England ; and " the Papist army/' as 
 that of Charles was called, was looked upon with still 
 greater abhorrence. From the ^discussion of petitions 
 of rights, grand remonstrances, taxation, and oppression, 
 the national mind passed to that of church government, 
 and metaphysical doctrines ; such as election, predesti- 
 nation, and perfect freedom of conscience, in all reli- 
 gious matters. 
 
 The changes that followed the first step against 
 religious oppression, were natural, and to be expected. 
 After political reform, religious questions came up ; and 
 the king and established church banding together, it 
 was natural, if the revolution were successful, they 
 should go down together, and a different political and 
 religious government be adopted. Hence the former be- 
 came a parliamentary government, and the latter a Pres- 
 byterian church. The Scotch league and covenant, 
 gave a still more definite form and organization to the 
 church. But in a revolution every irregularity devel- 
 opes itself — the restraints are taken off the mind — its 
 old barriers are removed, and it is launched forth upon 
 an unknown sea. Besides, reforms never stop where 
 those who originate them expect. The very efforts and 
 arguments which embolden men to question and reject 
 authority they have long submitted to, teach them, also, 
 to resist any or all authority which would fetter their 
 rights, and constrain their consciences. Henry the VIII. 
 
84 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 did not dream, that when he taught the people to reject 
 the Church of Rome, they would, in time, sift the 
 claims of the system he substituted for it ; nor did par- 
 liament suppose, when they had freed the people from 
 the Established Church, they would free themselves 
 from a Presbyterian one. But reverence once de- 
 stroyed, is not readily restored, and latitude once given, 
 not easily limited again. By insisting on the right 
 to think for themselves, leaders of reform persuade men 
 to leave old and hard- worn ways, forgetting that when 
 once out on the open common of free thought, they 
 will make their own paths ; and not all the arguments 
 and threats that may be used, can force them long into 
 one track again. Reformers should remember this, 
 when they lead men forth from the influences which 
 have hitherto bound them, and bid them be free. 
 The field into which they are first allured, may be rich 
 and full of promise, but if surrounded with a single 
 barrier, they will clear it, though it were heaven-high. 
 Teach men to think for themselves in one case, and 
 they will do it in another ; impart to them the blessings 
 of liberty, and in their triumphant march they will crush 
 everything that lays the least restraint upon it. It 
 was so in England ; the people who foreswore allegiance 
 to the Romish Church, and rejected the Established 
 Church of England, finally crushed the Presbyterian 
 Church. 
 
 When each one is allowed to think for himself, men 
 are sure not to think alike ; and there sprung up in Eng- 
 land what is constantly seen here — numerous sects, each 
 
1643.] RELIGIOUS SECTS. 85 
 
 strenuous for its own peculiar tenets. There were the 
 Independents, who, discovering at length that the Pres- 
 byterians assumed to lord it over their consciences 
 in the same way that the Established Church had done, 
 repudiated it and the Scotch covenant together — de- 
 manded more freedom of belief, and asked for the 
 same republicanism in the church that was granted in 
 the state. There were, also, Brownists, Anabaptists, and 
 Levellers, who, whatever difference of creed might sepa- 
 rate them, were simply religious radicals and jacobins — 
 Fifth Monarchy men, who believed in the personal reign 
 of Christ on earth to constitute the fifth monarchy — 
 the Muggletonians, and many others, half sceptics, or 
 unsettled in their belief. All these the natural growth 
 of a revolution that had become religious, gradually 
 concentrated their strength against the Presbyterians ; 
 and Cromwell himself taking sides with the Indepen- 
 dents, the army was ranged on their side ; and, in time, 
 the army, as it always must in a revolution, ruled every- 
 thing. 
 
 We have thus carried forward the reader into the reli- 
 gious history of the revolution, to save the trouble of 
 referring to the origin and growth of the different sects, 
 frequently, and at the same time give them the promi- 
 nence they deserve in the political changes that follow. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE EXTRAORDINARY CAMPAIGN OF 1644. 
 
 Execution of Laud and Others — Character of Laud — Defeat of the Irish 
 Regiments by Fairfax — The Scotch Enter England — Cromwell Join3 
 them before York — The King Defeats Waller — Rupert Enters York — 
 Battle of Marston Moor — Cromwell's Ironsides — Cromwell's Letter — 
 Essex Defeated, and His Army Compelled to Surrender — Success of 
 Montrose in Scotland — Second Battle of Newbury — Cromwell Ac- 
 cuses Manchester in Parliament — Is Accused in Turn — Self-denying 
 Ordinance — The Remodeling of the Army — Its Character. 
 
 The winter of 1643 Cromwell spent in raising funds 
 for his army, even levying on the colleges in Cambridge, 
 and the cathedrals of Peterborough and Ely, and some- 
 times according to the report of his enemies, in not a 
 very gentle or legal way. He entered Ely cathedral one 
 day when the clergyman was preaching against parlia- 
 ment, and exclaimed aloud, " Leave off your fooling and 
 come down, sir," which he dared not disobey. He was 
 never idle, but strained every nerve, to be prepared for 
 the ensuing campaign. 
 
 For a short time in January, he took his seat in 
 parliament, and made a speech against Lord Willough- 
 by, whom he had so gallantly succored at Gainsbo- 
 rough — complaining that he was backward in his military 
 operations, and kept dissolute people about him, and 
 asked that Lord Manchester might be appointed in his 
 
1644.] LAUD'S CHARACTER. 87 
 
 place, which was granted. In the meantime, negotia- 
 tions and plots were commenced and abandoned in and 
 around parliament. Pym, one of the earliest and 
 firmest of the patriots, died December 8th, and was 
 mourned by the whole nation. 
 
 A few minor, but still somewhat important, events oc- 
 curred in the forepart of January, which it seems neces- 
 sary to mention, before we enter on the stirring events of 
 the year. The liturgy of the English Church was 
 formally abolished, and the prosecutions long ago be- 
 gan against Lord Macguire, the two Hothams, Sir 
 Alexander Carew, and Laud, were taken up again — all 
 ending equally fatally to the accused. The execution 
 of these men showed the severity with which the 
 revolution was to be carried on in future. The death 
 of Laud was uncalled for. He had sufficiently expiated 
 his crimes and follies, by four years imprisonment : — his 
 favorite schemes no man now thought of realizing — 
 his influence with the king was over, in fact, his career 
 ended. Stormy men were now in power, and a stormy 
 spirit abroad, before whom and which such weak 
 characters as his always disappear. No danger 
 was to be apprehended from him, or at least" none that 
 banishment would not have effectually guarded against ; 
 and his death, therefore, was an unnecessary act of 
 cruelty. Indeed, the charge of high treason was in no 
 way made out, and he died a victim to that hatred and 
 injustice he had himself nursed into such strength. He 
 was innocent of the crime charged upon him ; and yet, 
 there was a retributive justice in his death. He had un- 
 
88 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 settled the realm — opposed the parliament — oppressed 
 and persecuted the people. Indeed, his very accuser, 
 Prynne, was the one whose ears he had caused twice to 
 be cut off in presence of the multitude. He had shown 
 no mercy to others ; and now, none was shown to him. 
 So, that while we condemn his judges, we cannot lament 
 his fate. Still, Laud has probably been as much malign- 
 ed as Cromwell. He was a bigot ; so were many of the 
 Puritans, fanatics. The former persecuted the dissen- 
 ters ; so did the latter the papists. Laud hurried men 
 before the star-chamber and court of high commission, 
 and had them punished for no crime but that of speak- 
 ing against oppression ; nay, caused them to be put in 
 the stocks, publicly whipped, and their ears cropped off: — 
 equally violent measures were adopted by the Puritans 
 against the Irish Catholics. Now, to allow for the 
 intolerance of the one, and not for that of the other, is 
 manifestly unjust. The age and the times in which 
 men live, must be taken into consideration, w T hen we 
 judge of their characters. Laud was, doubtless, a 
 sincere and honest prelate. He did what he thought 
 was for the good of the church. Believing that it could 
 not prosper in the midst of dissensions and radicalism, 
 he set about their eradication in the way he thought 
 best to secure his object. That he should see nothing 
 but discord and ruin in the spirit of rebellion against 
 the church and the state, that was abroad, was natural. 
 There was no more bigotry in his looking upon dissent- 
 ers as criminals, than in the Puritans regarding the 
 papists as such. Thus, while we regard his career as 
 
1644.] LORD BYRON DEFEATED. 89 
 
 mad and foolish in the extreme, we see in it nothing so 
 inconsistent as many do. His cruelties and persecu- 
 tions indicate the weak bigot, rather than the unfeeling 
 oppressor. 
 
 On January 22d, a new parliament, assembled by the 
 king, met at Oxford to repudiate the constitutional par- 
 liament, but it never amounted to anything, and Charles 
 was compelled to adjourn it in April, feeling that he 
 had only added to his embarrassments. A treaty he 
 endeavored to make with parliament and Scotland, was 
 equally fruitless, while the regiments under Lord Byron, 
 which he had recalled from Ireland — after six weeks 
 of success — had been almost annihilated by Fairfax. 
 Marching in the depth of winter, the latter came upon 
 this "papist army/' under the walls of Nantwich, in 
 Cheshire, which the latter was closely besieging, and 
 fell upon it with such fury, that out of 3000 infantry, 
 only 1000 escaped. The notorious, and twice renegade, 
 George Monk, was one of the captives. 
 
 Thus commenced the terrible campaign of 1644, 
 which in its progress was to deluge England with the 
 blood of her children, and cover her fair fields with the 
 slain. The Scotch army, 20,000 strong, and marching 
 knee-deep in snow, crossed the English borders on the 
 19th of January, moving steadily and sternly south. 
 The parliament had at this time an immense force under 
 its control. Essex and Waller, who commanded in the 
 central and eastern counties, had each about 10,000 
 men ; Manchester and Cromwell 14,000, while Fairfax 
 was at the head of another strong army. To meet this 
 
90 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 formidable array, Charles had 10,000 men around his 
 person at Oxford, 14,000 under Newcastle, while the 
 royalist sections were covered with larger and smaller 
 bands at his disposal, and Ireland stood ready to throw 
 heavy reinforcements over the channel. 
 
 The campaign opened in the spring with extraordi- 
 nary exertions on the part of both the parliament and 
 the king. The former had ordered Lord Fairfax to join 
 his forces with those of the Scotch under Lord Leven. 
 Defeating the royalists at Lilly, commanded by the 
 governor of York, this able general kept steadily on 
 his northern route, and effected his junction on the 20th 
 of April. Lord Newcastle, commander-in-chief of the 
 king's forces in those parts, was then compelled to shut 
 himself up in York. The month before, Waller had 
 gained a victory over Sir Ralph Upton, in Hampshire, 
 and joining his forces to those of Essex, the two marched 
 on Oxford, where the king lay. The queen, now seven 
 months pregnant, besought with passionate tears and 
 entreaties, and at length persuaded her husband to let 
 her depart to Exeter, so as to escape the horrors of a 
 siege. She left, and they never met again. 
 
 In the meantime, Manchester and Cromwell, with their 
 14,000 men, hurried across the country, and effected a 
 junction with Fairfax and the Scotch army. The com- 
 bined forces then moved on York, and laid close siege to 
 it. Thus these two important cities, occupied by the two 
 chief armies of the king, were surrounded by the parlia- 
 mentary troops at the same time, and the crisis of the 
 great struggle seemed to have come. All England was 
 
1644.] RETREAT OF THE KING. 91 
 
 breathless with anxiety, and strong prayers ascended 
 the heavens from Puritan hearts, that the cause of truth 
 and freedom might triumph. 
 
 The king, hemmed in by Waller and Essex, seemed 
 fated to fall ; but by one of the most skilful manoeuvres 
 executed on the side of the royalists during the whole 
 war, he, on the night of the 3d of June, silently marched 
 forth, and, passing unseen between the two armies, 
 reached Hanborough at daybreak, and from thence pro- 
 ceeded rapidly to Worcester, and afterwards to Bewd- 
 ley. While between the latter places, he received a mes- 
 sage from Newcastle, that unless relieved, he could 
 hold out but a few weeks longer. Charles saw at once that 
 the fall of York w^ould secure his irretrievable ruin, for 
 that immense northern army would immediately join 
 Waller and Essex, already too strong for him, and pre- 
 sent a force against which it would be hopeless to strug- 
 gle. Sending, therefore, in great haste, to Rupert, who 
 was dashing over Cheshire and Lancashire, in the south, 
 to move with all speed to the relief of York, he turned 
 his attention to Waller and Essex. After the retreat of 
 Charles they separated, the latter moving westward, and 
 the former, by rapid marches, throwing himself between 
 the king and Shrewsbury, to prevent his advancing 
 south to join Rupert. But no sooner did the king hear 
 of the separation of the forces than he wheeled back to 
 Oxford, and entered it just seven days after his de- 
 parture. 
 
 Smarting under the foolish chase he had been de- 
 ceived into, Waller hastened back, and rather precipitate- 
 
92 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ly gave battle at Cropredy bridge, on the banks of the 
 Charwel, where, after fighting gallantly, he was defeated 
 with great loss. Charles then marched after Essex, who 
 was besieging Exeter. But these minor events were 
 suddenly forgotten in the exciting tidings from the north, 
 of the great 
 
 BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 Rupert, obeying the commands of the king, swept 
 northward with an army of 20,000 men. The news of 
 his approach had been received by the besiegers, and 
 every precaution taken, and every effort made, to inter- 
 cept his march. But taking advantage of his superior 
 knowledge of the country, he, with that celerity and 
 skill which distinguished him, made a wide detour to 
 the right ; and while the combined armies were every 
 moment expecting an attack, quietly and undiscovered, 
 reached the gates of the town. The thunder of cannon 
 and pealing of bells in York, announced, to their aston- 
 ishment, that Rupert was actually entering the place. 
 All night long, the inhabitants, intoxicated with joy, 
 gave vent to their exultation in bonfires, illuminations, 
 shouts, and ringing of bells, till the old towers of York 
 shook to their foundations. 
 
 Far different was the scene on Marston Moor; for 
 doubt and despondency hung over the united hosts. All 
 that long summer night, the voice of prayer and sad 
 expostulation was heard in the army ; while the council 
 of war which sat till day-break, was marked by the 
 
1644.] BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 93 
 
 most violent dissensions, adding still more to the dis- 
 couragement of the soldiers. But at early dawn, Fairfax 
 rode forth, resolved to abide the issue of an engagement. 
 In a short time, the whole army was in motion, and 
 by rapid evolutions, soon changed front ; so that, instead 
 of facing westward, as it had done, to meet Rupert, 
 it now looked towards York. 
 
 Rupert, on his arrival, demanded that battle should be 
 immediately offered ; and overruling the more cautious, 
 and wiser proposal of Newcastle, to wait for reinforce- 
 ments that were hastening up, and also the effect of 
 discordant counsel in the combined forces, hastily 
 marched forth towards the republican army, eight miles 
 distant, on Marston Moor. This was a large plain, well 
 fitted for the meeting place of two great armies. The 
 parliamentary troops, their line extending a mile and a 
 half, were drawn up behind a large drain which trav- 
 ersed the whole field, except on the extreme left, where 
 a lane, passing between high banks and thorn bushes, 
 cut it in two and opened on the level space beyond. 
 Here Cromwell, with his terrible cavalry, was posted. 
 The Scottish foot occupied the centre and composed the 
 reserve ; while Sir Thomas Fairfax, with the Yorkshire* 
 cavalry and two Scotch regiments of horse, held the 
 extreme right, supported by his brave father with his 
 own infantry and two brigades of Scottish horse. In 
 the rear of the army lay the scattered village of Long 
 Marston, forming, with its stone cottages and garden 
 walls and strongly enclosed orchards, an excellent point 
 oVappui, in case of retreat. 
 
94 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Thus arranged, prayer was offered up at the head of 
 each regiment, and exhortations made by the officers. 
 Cromwell addressed his men — as was frequently his 
 custom, as well as pray with them, on the eve of an 
 engagement, — thus arousing them to that pitch of fiery 
 enthusiasm, which so few military leaders have been 
 able to impart to their followers. 
 
 In the meantime, Rupert drew slowly on with his 
 army of nearly 30,000 men. Soon the pike-points of the 
 infantry were seen glittering over the low bushes that 
 dotted the field in the distance ; and then the heads of the 
 massive columns emerged into open view, while squad- 
 ron after squadron of Rupert's splendid cavalry came 
 winding over the open plain : — their long white plumes 
 floating back over their gaily caparisoned steeds, 
 and their shining armor reflecting the sunbeams with 
 dazzling brilliancy. Behind, on a rapid trot, advanced 
 the artillery, rumbling heavily over the broken ground, 
 while mounted officers, galloping about in every direc- 
 tion, added still greater picturesqueness to the scene. 
 
 On swept the host in all the splendor and pomp of 
 dreadful war — their bugles sounding cheerily out, and 
 their close and beautiful array foretelling a desperate 
 struggle to ensue. When about a mile distant from the 
 republican army, Rupert halted ; and a group of officers, 
 advancing in front, unfurled the royal standard. As it 
 shook its gorgeous folds in the evening breeze, " God 
 save the King !" went up in a deafening shout ; and the 
 trumpets hailed it with exultant blasts. At the same 
 time the blue banner of the covenant was unfurled, 
 
1644.] BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 95 
 
 "greeted by a stern and solemn acclamation, as different 
 from the wild and animated clamor of the cavaliers, as 
 is the deep and incessant booming of the ocean surf from 
 the sharp keen explosions of a thunder storm."* 
 
 Rupert took up his position opposite the parliamentary 
 right, where Fairfax was stationed with his cavalry. 
 It was now seven o'clock in the evening — the cannon 
 had been playing since three — and the setting sun was 
 almost on a level with the glittering plain, on which 
 stood near 60,000 men in battle array. A short pause 
 followed, during which the two hosts, waiting the signal 
 to advance, gazed anxiously, almost breathlessly, upon 
 each other. Then a mass of white cloud, hugging the 
 earth, rolled out in front of the royal force, followed by 
 the flash and roar of artillery, and the great struggle 
 commenced. Rupert dashing, with his usual impetu- 
 osity, on Fairfax holding the right, after a short but fierce 
 effort, routed him completely. In the centre the struggle 
 between the infantry was awful. Wrapt in a cloud of 
 smoke, amid which rang the clash of weapons, and 
 shouts of men and roar of guns, the stout yeomanry of 
 the two kingdoms fought with a stubbornness that the 
 utmost gallantry of the cavaliers could not overcome. 
 " The Scotch delivered their fire with such constancy 
 and swiftness, it was as if the whole air had become an 
 element of fire in the summer gloaming there." On the 
 left, Cromwell with his strong Ironsides, stood for awhile 
 and saw the infant^ near him mowed down by the royal 
 batteries ; till, unable longer to view the havoc, he turned 
 
 * Herbert. 
 
96 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 to his men, with one of those explosions of passion 
 which made him so fearful in battle, and ordered them 
 to charge. Clearing the ditch, he had scarcely formed 
 on the open ground, when down came Goring's cavalry 
 in a wild gallop. Receiving them, as the rock the waves, 
 those Ironsides, with a shout, charged in turn, crushing 
 the royal squadrons like shells beneath their feet; and 
 falling on the artillerists, who were making such carnage 
 in Manchester's infantry, sabred them at their pieces. 
 They then rode leisurely back towards the ditch, as if 
 they had only been executing a manoeuvre. At this mo- 
 ment, word was brought Cromwell that the whole right 
 wing of the army was routed ; and as the smoke lifted a 
 moment before the breeze, he saw that it was true. 
 Fairfax had been borne wounded from the battle ; and 
 the enemy's cavalry careered, almost unchecked, through 
 his broken and flying ranks. But from the rapid and 
 crashing volleys in the centre, and the levelled pikes 
 now advancing to the charge, and now forced back, 
 he saw that it was yet unbroken. 
 
 Twilight was now settling on the field, and Cromwell, 
 for the purpose of relieving the left, where Rupert was 
 dealing death amid the followers of Fairfax, ordered his 
 squadrons to face to the left . Wheeling on his centre, 
 he saw Rupert only a quarter of a mile distant, exe- 
 cuting a similar manoeuvre to meet him ; and in a few 
 moments these formidable masses of five thousand 
 cavalry, stood face to face ; — the plumed, the gay, the 
 hitherto invincible, horsemen of Rupert on one side; and 
 the stern Ironsides, clad in simple buff and strong grey 
 
1644.] cromwell's charge. 97 
 
 steel, without a decoration on their good steeds, or a 
 plume above their helmets, on the other. Ten thou- 
 sand horses sweeping to the shock is, under any cir- 
 cumstances, terrific ; but now, when two such leaders 
 as the renowned and headlong Rupert, and the stern 
 and steady Cromwell, were at their head, still more so. 
 Each knew the temper of his antagonist ; and each 
 resolved never to yield. 
 
 At this critical moment, Cromwell saw a body of royal 
 pikemen advancing to turn the Scottish centre, and ex- 
 posing, in their hasty movement, their right flank to his 
 horse. With that sudden inspiration which belongs to 
 genius, he ordered a squadron to charge them at once, 
 and, riding through their ranks, fall on Rupert's flank. 
 Saying this, he gave the order to advance, and with his 
 face blazing with excitement, shouted "Forward!" with 
 a voice like a trumpet call. Rupert's five thousand horse, 
 pressing hard after their leader's gay banner, fifteen feet 
 long, and streaming in the wind, were coming up in a 
 plunging trot, shaking the earth as they moved, when 
 down swept Oliver with his Ironsides like a rolling 
 rock. The shock in the centre was terrible. Each 
 refused to yield an inch ; and hand to hand, and blade to 
 blade, the maddened thousands struggled in close en- 
 counter, while the ringing of sabres on each other, and 
 on steel armor, was heard above the trampling of steeds 
 and shouts of men. It was then the detachment Crom- 
 well had sent off* did him good service. Falling on the 
 naked flank of Rupert, it carried disorder through the 
 ranks, while the steady bravery of those in front gradu- 
 5 
 
98 OLIVERCROMWELL. 
 
 ally forced rents through the firm-set squadrons. At 
 length, victory declared for Cromwell. Rupert's re- 
 nowned cavalry were utterly broken ; yet, disdaining to 
 fly, they rallied in separate bodies, and charged home 
 with the energy of despair. Four times did Rupert, 
 maddened by disappointment, and burning with rage, 
 rally his own favorite regiment, and hurry them forward 
 with an impetuosity and daring that deserved a better 
 fate. But each successive time they rolled back from 
 that iron host, thinned and wasted. Though wounded, 
 Cromwell still kept his saddle ; and calling off, and 
 reforming his own regiment, he fell on Rupert so resist- 
 lessly, that he was borne backward over the field, and 
 finally turned in flight, pursued by the Puritans even 
 to the gates of York. 
 
 This decided the battle, for the reserve squadrons of 
 parliamentary cavalry, coming up to the relief of the 
 infantry, broke through the enemy, and soon swept 
 the moor of the last vestige of opposition. It was 
 now ten o'clock, and that field presented, in the dim 
 starlight, a heart-rending spectacle. Five thousand 
 slain outright, lay strewed around, while thousands of 
 wounded filled the air with sad laments. And all those 
 ghastly bodies were Englishmen — brothers, relatives 
 and friends, who had mingled in the deadly strife : — 
 Englishmen slain, because a king would rule in obedi- 
 ence to his pride, rather than the wishes and welfare of 
 his subjects. And there they lay, all martyrs to princi- 
 ple — the one for the divine right of kings — the other for 
 civil liberty and the rights of conscience : the proud 
 
1644.] THE VICTORY. 99 
 
 royalist beside the resolute Puritan: "the plumed 
 helmet embracing the strong steel cap, as they rolled on 
 the heath together, and the loose love locks of the 
 careless cavalier, drenched in the dark blood of the 
 enthusiastic republican."* 
 
 The fruits of this victory were 1500 prisoners, 10,000 
 stand of arms, 25 cannon, and ammunition and stores 
 in abundance. But the greatest victory was the tri- 
 umph which the cavalry achieved over Rupert's famed 
 horsemen. They had been broken for the first time, 
 and Cromwell had done it. His men were ever after 
 called Ironsides; for as no charge could break them, 
 so no array was ever able to resist their onset. 
 
 These Ironsides were stern religious men, who could 
 sing psalms through their noses, and pray before going 
 into battle ; and he who would walk over the tented 
 field at evening, and listen to their nasal chantings, 
 might deem himself in a conventicle of monks, and 
 laugh at the thought of their being warriors ; but he who 
 saw them with their helmets on — their sabres shakino- 
 
 o 
 
 above their heads, and their flashing eyes bent in wrath 
 on the enemy, sweeping like a thunder-cloud to battle, 
 would ever after tread softly about their prayer-meet- 
 ings, and listen to their psalm-singing, like one who 
 hears music around the lip of the volcano. 
 
 This battle fixed Cromwell's rising fame, and men 
 began to regard him as invincible ; — while the man who 
 seemed born to be never beaten, obtained the unbound- 
 ed confidence and love of the soldiers. 
 
 * Vide Forster's Statesman, 657. 
 
100 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 This finished the king in the western counties, and 
 lost him half his kingdom. A nephew of Cromwell's 
 fell in this battle. His son Oliver had doubtless fallen 
 before, perhaps in the very first engagement — that of 
 Edgehill. In writing to his brother-in-law, Col. Valen- 
 tine Walton, announcing his son's death, he says, after 
 speaking of the action, and giving God the glory of the 
 victory : 
 
 " Sir — God hath taken away your eldest son by a cannon shot. 
 It brake his leg. We were necessitated to have it cut off, whereof 
 he died. Sir, you know my own trials in this way : but the Lord 
 supported me with this, that the Lord took him to the happiness 
 we all pant for, and live for. There is your precious child, full of 
 glory, never to know sin and sorrow any more. He was a gallant 
 young man — exceedingly gracious. God give you His comfort. 
 Before his death he was so full of comfort, that he could not ex- 
 press it. ' It was so great above his pain.' This he said to us. 
 Indeed, it was admirable. A little after, he said one thing lay 
 upon his spirit. I asked him what that was 1 He told me it was, 
 that God had not suffered him to be any more the executioner of 
 his enemies. At his fall, his horse being killed with the bullet, 
 and as I am informed, three horses more, I am told he bid them 
 open to the right and left, that he might see the rogues run. Truly, 
 lie was exceedingly beloved in the army, of all that knew him. But 
 few knew him ; for he was a precious young man, fit for God. 
 You have cause to bless the Lord. He is a glorious sain<Mn*hea- 
 ven ; wherein you ought exceedingly to rejoice. Let this drink 
 up your sorrow ; seeing these are not feigned words to comfort 
 you, but the thing is so real and undoubted a truth. You may do 
 all things by the strength of Christ. Seek that, and you shall 
 easily bear your trial. Let this public mercy to the church of God, 
 
1644.] ESSEX DEFEATED. 101 
 
 make you to forget your private sorrow. The Lord be your 
 strength : So prays 
 
 "Your truly loving and faithful brother, 
 
 " Oliver Cromwell." 
 
 This letter exhibits both the kindness and sincerity of 
 Cromwell. He sympathizes with his afflicted relative, 
 but bids him do as he evidently did, when he lost Ids 
 son, " forget his private sorrows" in the welfare of his 
 country. No man can read this letter and doubt that 
 he considered the cause in which he was engaged, the 
 cause of God, and felt his own life, and that of others, 
 to be of small account, compared to its success. 
 
 A fortnight after the battle, York capitulated. Ru- 
 pert fled with his remaining troops towards Chester; 
 and Newcastle, disgusted and discouraged, abandoned 
 his country. The Scotch army subsequently separated 
 from the parliamentarians, and moved north upon New- 
 castle, to which it laid siege, and at length, in October, 
 captured it. 
 
 While these events were passing in the north, Essex, 
 whom we left advancing westward, began to be sur- 
 rounded with difficulties. At first victorious, dispersing 
 the royalists in his path, and taking the towns of Wey- 
 mouth, Barnstable, Tiverton, and Taunton, he at length 
 resolved boldly to march into Cornwall. He expected 
 the people to rally to his standard as he approached; but 
 they kept aloof, while the reinforcements he had demand- 
 ed from Waller were withheld. In the meantime, the 
 king closed rapidly on his rear, and finally cut him off 
 from all assistance. This sealed the fate of Essex ; and 
 
102 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Charles sent emissaries to him, to persuade him to join 
 the royal cause with his army. But the honor of the 
 old noble was impervious, both to bribes and threats, 
 and he sat sullenly down to abide the worst. Onset 
 after onset was made, and each day brought a battle — 
 but alas, no victory to the earl. Closer and closer drew 
 the lines of the king about him, until, from the sur- 
 rounding heights, the royalists looked down into his 
 exposed camp. 
 
 Thus encircled by his foes, he ordered Sir William Bal- 
 four, commander of the cavalry, to cut his way through 
 them ; while he, with the infantry, took up the line of 
 march for the sea-coast. Favored by a dark night, and a 
 fog, the cavalry passed between the two divisions of the 
 royal army, and escaped ; but the foot, impeded by the 
 rain and mud, and pursued, on the following day, by the 
 king, found farther retreat hopeless, and resolved to ca- 
 pitulate. The proud heart of Essex, however, would not 
 witness this disgrace ; and so, taking only two officers 
 with him, he fled to the sea-coast, and embarked in a ves- 
 sel for Plymouth. The command then devolved on 
 General Skippon. This brave and heroic commander 
 immediately called a council of war, and addressing the 
 officers, told them, that their commander had left them ; 
 but as the cavalry had succeeded in escaping, their 
 case was not so desperate, and that, by a glorious effort, 
 they might also cut their way through the ranks of the 
 enemy. The same God, he said, who had protected the 
 cavalry, was over them — at all events, it was "bet- 
 ter to die with honor and faithfulness, than to live dis- 
 
1644.] BATTLE OF NEWBURY. 103 
 
 honorable." But he spoke to dispirited men. The 
 king proposed honorable terms which were accepted — 
 and surrendering their artillery, ammunition, and arms, 
 they marched sadly back over the ground they had so 
 lately trod victorious. 
 
 This was September 1st; and on the same day, Mon- 
 trose, who had succeeded in raising troops in Scotland 
 favorable to the king, and effected a junction with the 
 Irish sent across by Antrim, obtained a victory over the 
 republicans at Uppermuir. Eleven days after he gained 
 admittance into Perth ; and taking Aberdeen by storm, 
 spread terror even to the gates of Edinburgh. All 
 these successes coming together, compensated somewhat 
 for the defeat at Marston Moor, and the king took cour- 
 age and immediately marched on London. The parlia- 
 ment, however, rapidly concentrated its forces on this 
 point — Manchester and Cromwell came hurrying from 
 the north — and by the middle of October a large army 
 was in the field. Essex, though cleared from all blame 
 in the loss of his army, and urged to take the command, 
 resolutely refused ; and gloomy and despondent looked 
 with a listless eye on the stirring scenes around him. 
 The chief command then devolved on Manchester, 
 who led his forces forth to Newbury, where the king 
 lay entrenched. 
 
 SECOND BATTLE OF NEWBURY. 
 
 Like the battle of Edgehill and several other engage- 
 ments, this took place on the Sabbath. The king's posi- 
 
104 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 tion was admirably chosen. One flank was protected by 
 the river Kennet, while a building called Doleman's 
 House, with the villas, and hedges, and orchards near, 
 furnished a strong covering to the troops, who had pro- 
 tected themselves still more by throwing up embank- 
 ments. To the north of this there spread out two open 
 fields, in which the artillery and most of the cavalry were 
 placed. Still farther on, was the village of Speen, and 
 beyond it a heath protected by a work. Here, for two 
 days, constant skirmishes took place between small de- 
 tachments, with various success. 
 
 At length, on Sunday morning, the 27th of October, 
 just at day-break, a strong column of republicans moved 
 down, and crossing the river, fell resolutely on the wing 
 of the royal army ; — but, after a short struggle, it was 
 rolled back with great slaughter. All day long the thun- 
 der of artillery, or rattle of musketry, in various parts of 
 the field, told where separate commands were meeting in 
 conflict; but at three o'clock, the dark masses of Waller's 
 division were seen moving straight on the heath at the 
 north, and in a few minutes the battle became general. 
 Cromwell, as usual, commanded the cavalry, and it did 
 not lessen his enthusiasm, or that of his followers, to 
 know that it was the Sabbath on which they were to 
 strike for God and the Church. Relying on his own ge- 
 nius, like all great commanders, he overlooked the mere 
 formal arrangement of opposing w r ing to wing, and cen- 
 tre to centre ; and discovering a hill within musket range 
 of the enemy's lines, behind which he could form his 
 squadrons, he immediately ordered a movement in that 
 
1644.] CHARGE OF CROMWELL. 105 
 
 direction. There, while the battle was raging all around, 
 he arranged his troops into two columns, and, giving the 
 order to advance, suddenly appeared on the summit, in 
 full view of the enemy. As the dark masses, fringed 
 with glittering steel, wound over the hill-top, all knew 
 that a terrible blow was about to fall, but where, none but 
 the stern eye of him who had planned it could see. A 
 fierce cannonade at once opened the whole length of the 
 lines, and in the intervals of the explosions came the 
 sound of Cromwell's trumpets. The next moment the 
 tw r o columns divided — the one composed of twelve 
 hundred horsemen, with Oliver at their head, came pour- 
 ing in one wild torrent down the hill, shaking their sabres 
 above their heads and singing psalms as they galloped. 
 Falling on the firm-set ranks of the kines; with irresistible 
 fury, they tore, shouting through them, while the blades 
 that a moment before shone in the clear sunlight, were 
 seen dripping with blood. The broken array divided, 
 and the fugitives turned and fled, some for Denninston 
 Castle, and others for the town. The other column, 
 composed of foot, paused awhile to watch the course of 
 Cromwell and his Ironsides, and as they saw them riding 
 down the enemy, they rushed with a shout upon Dole- 
 man's House. Here the carnage was terrific. Forget- 
 ting all danger, the excited republicans dashed on the 
 strong works that surrounded it, and though mowed 
 down with dreadful slaughter still pressed forward. 
 Hour after hour, they struggled under a close and mur- 
 derous fire — portions cleared the hedges, and rushed ovei 
 the open lawn, but were swept away like mist before the 
 5* 
 
106 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 wind. Five hundred fell on this single spot, which seem- 
 ed scarce large enough to hold so many dead bodies. At 
 length the wreck of this brave column retreated, cover- 
 ed by a portion of the cavalry, who calmly took the 
 fire on themselves to save their gallant friends. 
 
 In other parts of the held the battle was equally des- 
 perate — Essex's old soldiers in particular, who were still 
 smarting under the disgrace of their surrender, performed 
 prodigies of valor. They rushed like madmen on the 
 guns, and with clubbed muskets beat the artillerists from 
 their pieces. When they saw the cannon they had lost 
 in Cornwall, they seemed possessed with the fury of 
 demons. Nothing could withstand their onset. Break- 
 ing over all resistance, they seized their old pieces and 
 dragged them back with shouts that were heard above 
 the roar of battle, and falling on them embraced them 
 with tears of joy. 
 
 But, at length, night, which closes so many scenes of 
 carnage, shut in this. The last flash lit up the gathering 
 gloom; the last sullen roar died away; and the two 
 hosts rested on their arms. Both claimed the victory, 
 but Cromwell had made such sad w r ork with the left 
 wing of the king, that he found his position no longer 
 tenable, and decided to retreat. 
 
 As the bright moon of that Sabbath evening rode 
 through the cloudless heavens, its gentle beams lit up 
 one of the ghastliest scenes of war. Heaps of mangled 
 men, dead steeds, shattered armor, rent plumes, and 
 pools of blood, lay as so many witnesses to heaven of 
 man's lust of power. By the light of that same moon 
 
1644.] ACCUSES MANCHESTER. 107 
 
 the king drew off his troops, and commenced a hasty re- 
 treat. Cromwell no sooner discovered it, than he urged 
 Manchester to fall on his rear. The latter refusing, 
 Oliver offered, with his single brigade, to rout the whole 
 army ; still Manchester declined. Promises and remon- 
 strances were alike in vain ; and the gallant leader 
 of the Ironsides, with swelling heart, saw the fruits of 
 the bloody day escaping his hands. In vain had been 
 his efforts — in vain the great sacrifice of men : the king 
 was allowed to depart unmolested. 
 
 Late in the morning some slight demonstrations to- 
 wards a pursuit were made, but evidently with no inten- 
 tion of engaging the enemy. Cromwell was still more 
 exasperated, when the king, having been reinforced b} r 
 Rupert, came back twelve days after, and right in the 
 face of the army carried off all the cannon, stores, 
 &c, from Bennington Castle, without a blow being 
 struck to prevent it. It is said that Manchester, in 
 reply to his remonstrance, declared, that the king, if 
 beaten, would be king still, and able to raise another 
 army, while, if they were defeated, they would all be 
 hung as rebels. Such vacillation of purpose and 
 weakness, nay, culpable remissness, roused all the fire 
 in Cromwell's nature. Instead of being disheartened, 
 or of venting his spleen in murmurs, he resolved at 
 once to crush his superior. The noble cause in 
 which he was struggling should not be sacrificed with- 
 out an effort; and hastening to parliament, he boldly 
 accused him of misconduct — of secretly favoring the 
 enemy, by not pressing the advantages thrown in his 
 
108 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 way — in short, of being a trustless commander. He 
 not only pressed these accusations with all the energy 
 and passion that distinguished him, but, before he 
 finished, shook dim menaces over both king and lords. 
 
 Manchester, a few days after, replied to these heavy 
 charges, accusing Cromwell, in turn, of insubordination ; 
 of once replying to his* request to perform some service 
 with his horse, that if " his lordship wanted to have 
 the shins of the horses, that was the way to get 
 them ;"* and of treachery, in refusing to obey his 
 commands on the battle-field ; and further, of having 
 openly declared, that "there would never be a good 
 time in England, till we had done with lords ; and he, 
 the Earl of Manchester, become again plain Mr. Mon- 
 tague" — plain words for a subordinate to utter to a 
 commander, in those olden times of great reverence for 
 authority. 
 
 These sudden outbursts exhibit the stormy nature of 
 the man, and show clearly that he foresaw the course 
 the revolution must take, to -be successful. The Pres- 
 byterians began to be alarmed. The leader of the In- 
 dependents was evidently arraying his forces against 
 them and their officers, and resolutely bent on reform. 
 The bold position he assumed, called to their remem- 
 brance the motion he made in parliament after the 
 battle of Marston Moor — that a committee might be 
 appointed to reconcile the differences of opinion in 
 members of the assembly on church government ; and 
 if it could not be done, to devise some measure by 
 
 * Vide Rushworth, Pari Hist. Clarendon. 
 
1644.] PLOT AGAINST HIM. 109 
 
 which dissenters from the Presbyterians might be pro- 
 tected, indeed, " borne with." 
 
 The union with Scotland he evidently condemned, 
 and wished it dissolved, for he would have no man's 
 conscience fettered by rigid formulas; while it was 
 indispensably necessary that the fastidious leaders who 
 still clung to the king should be removed, and the 
 unchained energies of freemen, not afraid to strike 
 home for liberty and religion, allowed to have way. 
 Vane was his right hand man in carrying out these plans : 
 Ireton clung to him ; Marten, the young Ludlow, Fair- 
 fax, and Milton, were his friends. 
 
 This fiery orb that had moved so slowly into the 
 political sphere of England, began now to mount the 
 heavens ; and no wonder the Presbyterian leaders were 
 alarmed at its progress, and the daring path it was 
 choosing. They again opened negociations with the 
 king, who had now taken up his winter quarters at 
 Oxford. 
 
 In the meantime, an effort was made to ruin Oli- 
 ver; and the Presbyterian leaders, and Scotch commis- 
 sioners, met at Essex's house, to devise means for 
 carrying out their plans. The Lord Chancellor of 
 Scotland first spoke; and addressing Whitelocke and 
 Maynard, told them, the wish and purpose was to get 
 rid of Cromwell in some way, who was a firebrand 
 between the two nations, and an enemy of " his excel- 
 lency." Said he, " You ken vary weel the accord 
 'twixt the twa kingdoms, and the union by the solemn 
 league and covenant; and if any be an incendiary 
 
110 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 between the twa nations, how he is to be proceeded 
 against ?" He then wished, to know if Cromwell was 
 not such an incendiary; and if so, how they should 
 enter on the prosecution ? for, said he, if it can be 
 proved against him, we will " clepe his wings from 
 soaring to the prejudice of our cause." It was easy 
 enough to talk; but when it came to the point avIio 
 should be the man to " clepe the wings" of the soaring 
 bird, no one dared to attempt it. Whitelocke gravely 
 shook his head at the word " incendiary" spoke about 
 proofs, &c. ; but, at length, came to the grand difficulty 
 in the way, viz., "Lieutenant General Cromwell is 
 a man of quick and subtle parts, and one who hath, 
 especially of late, gained much interest in the House 
 of Commons, nor is wanting of friends in the House 
 of Peers; nor of abilities in himself to manage his own 
 part in defence to the best advantages."* That is, in 
 plain English ; " Gentlemen, I take this Cromwell to be 
 rather a dangerous sort of a man to meddle with — bold, 
 able, resolute, and penetrating. The enemy who en- 
 counters him, willhave to look well both to himself and 
 his cause. 
 
 The project was abandoned ; and the bold Independ- 
 ent, who knew all about it, laid, in turn, a plot of his 
 own, which he sprung to some purpose on the alarmed 
 Presbyterians. A day of fasting and prayer was set 
 apart to consider the state of the kingdom : the clergy 
 preached on the subject; Vane and Cromwell had 
 thought of it ; and planned, too, how they should get 
 
 * Vide Whitelocke. 
 
l644.] SELF-DENYING ORDINANCE. Ill 
 
 such men as Essex, Waller, and Manchester, indeed, 
 the whole remaining leaven of loyalty, out of the 
 army. At length, everything being prepared, parlia- 
 ment, expecting some grand move, was sitting, on the 
 9th of December, in " grand committee," silent and som- 
 bre, when Cromwell arose, and said, " It is now a time to 
 speak, or forever hold the tongue. The important 
 occasion, now, is no less than to save a nation out of 
 a bleeding, nay, almost dying condition." He then went 
 on to state, that unless the war was more vigorously 
 prosecuted, the kingdom would get weary of it, and 
 force them to a dishonorable peace. The army, he de- 
 clared, must be newly modelled, and put under new com- 
 manders. With consummate tact he deprecated any 
 investigation of the conduct of the present chief of- 
 ficers. Their errors and their good deeds were both 
 past — let them rest — and a remedy for existing evils be 
 applied without any reference to them. In another 
 part of the debate, in allusion to the objection against 
 calling them from the army to sit in parliament, be- 
 cause it would dispirit the soldiers, he declared he could 
 answer for his own men ; saying, " They look not 
 upon me, but upon you ; and for you they will fight, 
 and live and die in your cause." A motion was then 
 made, that no member of parliament should hold any 
 civil or military office. 
 
 This was the famous self-denying ordinance, which 
 after much debate, amendments, &c, was finally shaped 
 so that it simply discharged all members of parliament 
 from the offices they then held. This cutting off the 
 
112 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 pective pari of the act, leaving to parliament the 
 
 ver, in future, if it chose, to appoint its members 
 to office, was done, it is said, to keep Cromwell in the 
 army. At all events, Cromwell's proposal effectually 
 shut the door on his own career. He moved to blot 
 out his own ambitious prospects, if he had any, and 
 leave to others the laurels within his grasp. 
 
 The fact that parliament and the kingdom could not 
 do without him, and he ran a more brilliant career from 
 the very ordinance which in all probability would end 
 it, has thrown suspicion upon his integrity. When ene- 
 mies go on mere probabilities, there are no conclusions 
 too absurd or too unjust for them to draw. That Crom- 
 well designed to oust the old commanders, and did do it, 
 no one doubts — but that he expected to gain anything 
 by it, is untrue ; for a new commander-in-chief and all 
 the superior officers were appointed, and he left out — offi- 
 cers, too, with whom, even if he retained his rank, he 
 could not compete so easily as with the old ones. He 
 caused better leaders to be placed over him, and hence 
 threw greater obstacles in the way of his advancement. 
 He acted solely for the public good. 
 
 The passage of this bill, a clause of which allowed 
 men to serve without taking the covenant, placed the 
 army in the hands of the Independents. By one sec- 
 tion it was decreed that the military of the three king- 
 doms, should be put on a " new model,"' and the three 
 armies, of 10,000 men each, be consolidated into one 
 army of 20,000. 
 
 In effecting this, a great change in the morale of the 
 
1644.] C BAEACTEB OF THE ARMY. 113 
 
 army was produced. The officers and men withdrawn 
 
 were t able, and ruost dissolute; so that a great 
 
 purification resulted from the reduction. Fairfax was 
 appointed Lord General, and the brave Skippon, made 
 a Major General. The new Lieutenant General who 
 was to fill Cromwell's place was not named, but those 
 who saw the blank were not long in guessing who would 
 command the cavalry. 
 
 Cromwell superintended the remodelling of the army, 
 and guided by the same principles which governed 
 him in selecting his band of Ironsides, he finally pre- 
 sented parliament with a body of soldiers, the like 
 of which was never seen. Republicans in principle, 
 and enthusiasts in religion, they looked with contempt 
 on all earthly distinctions, and feared Cod alone. "In 
 their devotional retirement, they prayed with convul- 
 sions, and groans, and tears. They were half maddened 
 by glorious or terrible illusions. They heard the lyre of 
 angels, or the tempting whisper of fiends. But when 
 they girt on the sword of war, those tempestuous work- 
 ings of the soul left no perceptible trace behind then 
 With that flashing above their heads, and the Psalms 
 of David on their lips, they moved with shouts to the 
 harvest of death. Set apart by God to accomplish a 
 great work — each a "vessel of glory," and ordained to 
 eternal life, they looked upon the slaughter of their foes 
 as they did upon the destruction of the heathen before 
 the march of the Israelites to Canaan. " The sword of 
 the Lord and of Gideon," heralded many a wild shock of 
 
 * See Macaule/s Review of Milton. 
 
114 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 cavalry. To such men the severe discipline adopted by 
 Cromwell was not irksome. Theft, profanity, drunken- 
 ness, lewdness — what had they to do with these who were 
 standing on the threshold of eternal glory. Against the 
 stern valor and headlong enthusiasm of such men, what 
 were the older discipline, the science and gallant chiv- 
 alry of the corrupt and profligate cavalier. Under 
 privations, toil and pain, they would bear up with the 
 resolution of martyrs. 
 
 Never before, had an army been composed of such 
 strange and terrific material ; yet the friends of Charles 
 took courage when they saw what troops and leaders — 
 being nearly all common, untitled men — he would hereaf- 
 ter be compelled to meet. 
 
 It required great self-confidence and nerve in Crom- 
 well, to dare depart so far from old rules, and put reli- 
 gious enthusiasm and courage against the science of the 
 world. But he relied more on the rushing charge, than 
 the well-formed line of battle, and thus set an example 
 which Bonaparte afterwards copied successfully. That 
 an army composed of such materials, so disciplined and 
 so commanded, should soon change the aspect of affairs, 
 and win for itself a reputation unsurpassed in the annals 
 of history, republicans of this age can well imagine, but 
 in those times, it seemed almost a miracle. Fairfax, Ire- 
 ton, Skippon, and last of all, Cromwell, became four terri- 
 ble names in England, and as much dreaded on the field 
 of battle, as Henry Vane's in the Hall of Parliament. 
 
 Nothing shows the practical sagacity of Cromwell, 
 more than his introduction of the religious sentiment into 
 
1644.] THE PURITAN ARMY. 115 
 
 the army. Bonaparte could not do this, and -so he did 
 the next best thing — instilled the love of glory. The for- 
 mer made religion popular in the army and in the king- 
 dom, and his bulletins to parliament were more like the 
 letters of a clergyman to his presbytery, than the reports 
 of a general to his government, Scripture phrases came 
 into common use, and custom soon made proper and 
 natural, what now seems to us the mere cant of hypoc- 
 risy. It is not to be supposed, that the solemn look and 
 nasal tone, and Bible language of the Puritans, always 
 indicated piety. These things became the fashion — 
 made common, it is true, by a strong religious feeling ; 
 and fashion would make the people of New York talk in 
 the same strain. 
 
 Cromwell naturally adopted the same language — for, 
 with all his religious sincerity, he was as much of an 
 enthusiast as his most ardent follower, and felt himself 
 an instrument in the hands of God, for the accomplish- 
 ment of a great work. It is a little singular, that all those 
 great men who have effected sudden and unexpected 
 changes in human affairs, have always regarded them- 
 selves under the influence of a special destiny. If a 
 heathen, he has been the favorite of the gods ; if a Chris- 
 tian, like Cromwell, the mere agent of Supreme Power ; 
 if an unbeliever, like Napoleon, under the influence of 
 some star. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1645 TO THE SPRING OF 1646. 
 
 Cromwell's Commission Extended — Affair of Islip Bridge — Bletch- 
 ington House, Witney — Bampton Bush — The Main Army in Motion 
 — Cromwell Sent to Cambridge — Recalled and Joins Fairfax — Bat- 
 tle of Naseby — Cromwell's Letters to the House of Commons — 
 Cromwell Relieves Leicester — Takes Bridgewater and Puts Goring 
 to Flight — Disperses the Clubmen — Storming of Bristol — Cromwell 
 Takes Devizes, Berkley Castle and Winchester — Storm and Sack- 
 ing of Basing House — Cromwell Defeats Lord Wentworth — Joins 
 Fairfax and Takes Dartmouth — Defeats Lord Hopton — Movements 
 of the King, meanwhile — Defeat of Lord Astley ; — Negotiations again 
 Opened with Parliament — The King Flies to the Scottish Camp. 
 
 In the spring of this year, Charles sent his son into 
 Wales, as generalissimo of the forces there, and never 
 saw him again. In the meantime, he received the news 
 of the new organization of the parliamentary army, 
 which filled him and his officers with extravagant joy. 
 All the old and scientific commanders, and men of rank, 
 had been turned out, and obscure, unknown persons 
 appointed in their places. "A mob of peasants and 
 preaching mechanics," as they were derisively termed, 
 was now the only opposition he had to contend against ; 
 and over tnese the gallant cavaliers would ride un- 
 checked; sorry only that they had not foemen more 
 worthy of their steel. Ribald songs were made in their 
 
l645.] AFFAIR OF ISLIP BRIDGE. 117 
 
 honor ; and royalist wit expended itself in jests and puns 
 on the republican troops. 
 
 Oliver, who, during the early part of the spring, had 
 been busy in re-organizing the army and, with Waller, 
 endeavoring to check Goring and Rupert in the West, 
 now, in the latter part of April, came, in compliance 
 with the self-denying ordinance, to the head-quarters 
 of Fairfax at Windsor, to "kiss the general's hand," 
 and resign his commission. The next morning, how- 
 ever, he received directions from the committee of the 
 two kingdoms to take some squadrons of horse and in- 
 tercept a convoy of 2000 men, sent by Rupert, lying at 
 Worcester, to fetch the king, with the artillery from 
 Oxford. 
 
 Without a moment's delay, Cromwell commenced his 
 preparations ; and at evening, a gallant array was seen 
 winding out of Windsor, and stretching in a long line 
 over the country. The next day, April 24th, he fell on 
 this army at Islip Bridge, and routed it, taking sev- 
 eral prisoners and a standard which had been presented 
 by the queen to her regiment. The same day, he took 
 Bletchington House with dragoons alone. Two days 
 after, he again beat the army at Witney; and dashing 
 across the country, fell on the royalists at Rampton 
 Bush ; — thus, in five days, the first of the new army in the 
 field, fighting three battles, and victorious in all. Two 
 days after, he summoned the governor of Farringdon, 
 whom, with the garrison he had forced into the house 
 of the former, to surrender. A refusal being returned, 
 he, the next day, stormed the house ; but was repulsed, 
 
118 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 with the loss of fourteen men and a captain. Wheel- 
 ing back on his path, he hastened to join the main 
 army, which he heard had put itself in motion. 
 
 Charles having effected his junction with Rupert, the 
 two marched northward to relieve Chester, or attack 
 the Scottish army, as circumstances might direct. In 
 the meantime, parliament resolved that Cromwell 
 should not resign at present, and extended his com- 
 mission. 
 
 The movement of the army, on the 30th of April, was 
 the occasion of great excitement among, the Puritans of 
 London. Parliament passed an ordinance that all the 
 preachers should pray for its success; and strong pray- 
 ers went up that the Lord of Hosts would be its defence, 
 and lead it, as he did the army of Israel, to victory. 
 
 All this time, the king was moving northward ; while 
 Fairfax marched to Oxford, and invested it. Cromwell 
 had hardly joined him here, before he was ordered, in all 
 haste, to the eastern counties, whither, the king, driving 
 the Scottish army before him, was rapidly advancing. 
 These were the stronghold of republicanism ; and hence 
 of vital importance to Parliament. He took up his quar- 
 ters in Cambridge ; but had scarcely been there a week 
 before he was recalled. The king had turned aside and 
 stormed Leicester, and given it over to the brutality of 
 the soldiers. Taunton, too, had fallen ; and doubt and 
 uncertainty began to take the place of confidence 
 respecting the new army. 
 
 While these brilliant successes were being achieved 
 by the king, Fairfax lay idle before Oxford, which 
 
1645.] HIS RECEPTION BY THE ARMY. 119 
 
 caused universal dissatisfaction and complaint. At 
 length, being ordered to raise the siege and pursue 
 Charles, he petitioned parliament that Cromwell might 
 accompany him; as he could not do without his aid. 
 This petition, signed by himself and sixteen colonels, 
 was granted; and, June 12th, holding his old rank as 
 lieutenant-general, Oliver was seen sweeping across 
 the country with his trusty squadrons. As those six 
 thousand horsemen filed into view of Fairfax's army 
 at Northampton, a loud shout went up like the cry of 
 " vive Vempereur" with which the French soldiers were 
 wont to greet the appearance of Napoleon. New hope 
 visited every breast, as they saw this favored child of 
 victory leading his terrible Ironsides to their assistance. 
 Prompt and decided, his presence wrought a sudden 
 change in the army ; and on that very night Ireton was 
 sent forward to attack the king's outposts. The latter, 
 blind to his danger, and elated with the news of Mont- 
 rose's victory over the rebels in Scotland, had leisurely 
 pursued his way, stopping to hunt and amuse his officers, 
 as if no storm was gathering darkly behind. But when 
 he heard that the republicans were attacking his rear- 
 guard, and driving in his outposts, he awoke as from a 
 dream. His enemy, who seemed to take things as lei- 
 surely as himself, and keep at a cautious distance, now 
 all at once, could not wait for daylight before he brought 
 on an engagement. The reason of this sudden activity 
 is thus given significantly by Guizot, in one short sen- 
 tence : " Cromwell had been with the army for several 
 t hours,'' VHis presence inspired the troops with the en- 
 
120 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ergy and daring which characterized all his movements, 
 and which never could brook a lazy pursuit. He was 
 always restless and urgent till he found his enemy ; and 
 then pressed him with such vigor, that he compelled 
 him to take refuge in a rapid and disorderly flight, or 
 turn at bay. 
 
 The king, now fairly awake to his danger, hastily 
 called a council of war, which from the opposite views 
 that agitated its deliberations, did not break up till 
 midnight. Through Prince Rupert's influence, how- 
 ever, it was at length decided to face about and meet 
 the enemy. The king, not many weeks before, had said, 
 " Oh that some one would bring me this Cromwell, dead 
 or alive !" and now he had still greater cause to utter 
 the wish. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. 
 
 Nothing shows the promptness and energy of Crom- 
 well more than his conduct in bringing on and fighting 
 this battle. He received orders to join Fairfax on the 
 12th of June : on the evening of the thirteenth, he led 
 his forces into camp ; and that same night, despatching 
 Ireton to attack the royalists, six miles distant, brought 
 on the battle the next day, which before sunset he had 
 won, and saved England. 
 
 Naseby is a small straggling hamlet, lying in the heart 
 of England. The country around it, at this time, was 
 unenclosed, with swelling uplands and broad tracts of 
 moor between. The republican army had drawn for- 
 ward in dead silence, about a mile and a half from 
 
1845.] BATTLE OF NASEBY. 121 
 
 Naseby, early in the morning, and taken up its position 
 on a gentle hill side, which descended to a broad pla- 
 teau, now called Broad Moor.* In the distance, on a 
 similar ridge, but out of sight, the royalists had formed 
 their line of battle. The former by sunrise was ready 
 for action. The solid masses of infantry, commanded by 
 Fairfax and Skippon, occupied the centre, protected by 
 twenty-five pieces of artillery ; while the cavalry, with 
 Ireton and Cromwell at their head, stretched away on 
 either flank like two wings. Ireton, at Cromwell's 
 urgent request, had been promoted on the spot, and given 
 the command of the cavalry composing the left wing. 
 
 Thus arrayed, those twenty thousand men lifted a 
 psalm of praise to Cod. It rolled along their lines in 
 one majestic shout, thrilling every heart like a voice 
 frorrf heaven. Again and again was the solemn refrain 
 caught up, and sent forward through the dark bat- 
 talions, and finally died away amid Cromwell's enthu- 
 siastic squadrons. They then sat down in ranks upon 
 the green upland,,, with their arms in their hands, to 
 wait the advance of the royalists, against whom Crom- 
 well had sent a detachment, to beguile them from their 
 strong position. 
 
 In the meantime, Rupert, impatient to find the enemy, 
 spurred forward some two miles, and suddenly came 
 on the advance-guard of the Puritans, which im- 
 mediately fell back. Mistaking it for the rear-guard, 
 he sent word to the king that the enemy was in full 
 flight, and urged him to hasten up with the army. 
 
 * Vide Carlyle, page 166. 
 6 
 
1*22 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Forsaking his strong position, he came hurrying for- 
 ward over the broad moor, while a single gun from the 
 Puritan host announced the approaching shock. 
 
 It was now about ten o'clock, and Rupert began the 
 battle. His squadrons dashed across the level ground, 
 shouting, " Queen Mary ;" which the Puritans an- 
 swered with the fearful war-cry — " God is with us I" 
 Scorning all obstacles, he charged straight up the hill, 
 on the left wing, commanded by Ireton. This stern 
 republican well knew the stuff his antagonist was 
 composed of, and knew also why he himself had been 
 promoted on the field of battle, and strained every 
 nerve to meet the onset firmly. But no cavalry had 
 ever yet broken Rupert's charge but Cromwell's ; and 
 none in England could do it. With banners stream- 
 ing in the summer air, and rattling armor, and 
 shouts that made the welkin ring, the eager cava- 
 liers fell in a steady gallop, on the thick-set squad- 
 rons of parliamentary horse, and bearing them gradually 
 back, at length burst through the ranks with resistless 
 fury. The proud heart of Ireton well nigh broke at the 
 sight, and spurring into the thickest of the fight, and 
 breasting all alone the terrible torrent, he shouted to 
 his men to rally. He called on them by every motive 
 that moves the heart of man, but in vain; Rupert 
 swept onward, bearing the battle before him. Ireton, 
 and a few followers gallant as himself, refused to fly, and 
 the tide swept round them, as the stream around the 
 earth-fast rock, and left them almost alone in the field. 
 Stung into madness at the rout of his cavalry, on 
 
1645.] BATTLE OF NASEBY. 123 
 
 whose flying traces Rupert was still pressing, as they 
 swarmed in a confused throng over the moor, he called 
 the few that remained near his person, to follow him, and 
 fell, with the energy of despair, on the advancing infant- 
 ry. But borne down and unhorsed, with a pike through 
 his thigh, and another through his shoulder, he was, after 
 a fierce struggle, overpowered and taken prisoner. 
 
 In the meantime, the whole line had engaged — 
 the troops came into action with astonishing rapidity, 
 and the conflict at once formed its crisis, and became 
 close and deadly. The infantry pressed steadily up the 
 slope, against Fairfax and Skippon in the centre, whose, 
 fire, too elevated, passed harmlessly over their heads. 
 It then became a hand-to-hand fight, and those two 
 brave commanders forgot that they were officers, and 
 mingled foremost in the fray. Skippon, dreadfully 
 wounded, bled in his saddle, and Fairfax seeing his 
 condition, urged him to retire. "No," said the brave 
 old republican, " as long as one man will stand I won't 
 stir*;" and shouting to his reserve to advance, he him- 
 self led the charge. The next moment, Fairfax himself 
 received a blow on his head, which shattered his helmet 
 and hurled it to the ground. Bare-headed, with his eye 
 flashing fire, he still galloped amid the ranks, inspiring 
 them with hope and resolution, and shouting " courage," 
 with a voice like a trumpet. The colonel of his body- 
 guard, seeing his danger, spurred across his path, and 
 handing him his own helmet, urged him not to risk his 
 life so recklessly. "'Tis well enough, Charles, so," 
 exclaimed the gallant commander, and the next moment 
 
124 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 was struggling where the standards rose and fell, in the 
 doubtful fight. 
 
 The left wing was now utterly broken — the struggle 
 in the centre wavered to and fro — and oh, had it 
 then fared ill with the right wing, all had been lost; 
 but Cromwell and his Ironsides were there. Imitating 
 Rupert, Sir Marmaduke Langdale, at the head of the 
 main body of the royalist cavalry, charged this right 
 wing gallantly. But he might as well have charged on 
 a wall of iron. Shattered and stunned by the shock, 
 the astonished squadrons recoiled down the hill. The 
 next moment, Oliver's bugles rang out — and shouting, 
 "God is with us," the whole body precipitated itself 
 down the slope, with such headlong fury that it burst 
 through all resistance, and shattered the whole wing into 
 fragments. Sending three squadrons after the fugitives 
 to prevent them from rallying, "which," as Clarendon 
 quaintly says, " they never thought of doing," Cromwell 
 sounded a recall to the remaining four, and his disciplin- 
 ed Ironsides came riding coolly back, as if on a parade. 
 
 All this time the centre shook with the roar of guns, 
 and shouts, and clash of weapons. Fairfax noticing a 
 a portion of the king's infantry maintaining its perfect 
 order, amid the confusion, pointed it out to the colonel 
 of his body-guard, saying, "Can't, those people be 
 got at — have you charged them?" "Twice, general/' 
 replied the officer, "but I could not break them." 
 "Well then," replied Fairfax, "take them in front — 
 I will take them in the rear, andwe'll meet in the 
 middle !" And they did meet in the middle ; and of 
 
1645.] DESPAIR OF THE KING. 125 
 
 that brave regiment scarce a man was left to tell 
 how he fought. Fairfax killed the ensign with his own 
 hand, and captured the colors.* At that moment, 
 also, sending dismay into the royalist infantry, was 
 heard the heavy tramp of Cromwell's cavalry, as " with 
 loosened rein, and spur in horse's flanks," he led them 
 fiercely on. They broke into the very centre of 
 the king's guards, and routing them, seized all the can- 
 non, standards, and even the king's private carriage 
 and papers. 
 
 At this critical moment, Rupert, with his horse 
 blown from the chase, came back and found the field 
 lost. 
 
 The appalling disaster fell like a thunderbolt on 
 Charles, and rousing himself to a desperate effort, 
 he proceeded to the head of his regiment of life-guards, 
 and bidding them follow their king, was about to lead 
 them to the charge, when the Earl of Carnewarth, 
 who was riding beside him, suddenly seized the bridle 
 of his horse, and exclaiming, with a sturdy Scotch oath, 
 " Do you want to rush upon your death in an in- 
 stant?" turned him to the right-about. In a mo- 
 ment, the whole column supposing that the order 
 was to move to the right, wheeled after, which placed 
 their backs to the enemy. This was equivalent to 
 an order to retreat ; and putting spurs to their horses, 
 they fled on every side. Pale with despair, and his 
 
 * He gave the colors to a soldier, who claimed the merit of having 
 captured them. An officer overhearing his boast, was indignant. 
 Fairfax passing at the time, said, " I have honor enough ; let him 
 take that to himself." 
 
126 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 eye gleaming wildly, the king shouted, " Stand! stand!" 
 A few wheeled back at the order ; and Rupert's strag- 
 glers gathering round him, he endeavored again to 
 make a last charge for his crown and kingdom. With 
 his sword waving over his head, he twice darted for- 
 ward, exclaiming — "One charge more, gentlemen, and 
 the day is ours !"* But he spoke to weary, disheart- 
 ened men. Besides, there stood the dark squadrons of 
 Cromwell's invincible horsemen, as perfect in their 
 array, and as ready for the onset, as when the morn- 
 ing sun first flashed on their steel caps. 
 
 All was lost ; and with two thousand mounted fol- 
 lowers, the king fled towards Leicester, pressed hard 
 by the tireless horsemen of the republicans. The victory 
 was complete — the contest had lasted but three hours ; 
 and yet, there lay over three thousand corpses, while 
 the moor, ploughed like a field, was covered with 
 the wounded, and the wrecks of the fight. Five thou- 
 sand were taken prisoners — and all the standards, artill- 
 
 * The king was even upon the point of charging the enemy in the 
 head of his guards, when the Eari of Carnewarth, who rode next 
 to him (a man never suspected of infidelity, nor one from whom 
 the king would have received counsel in such a case)., on a sudden laid 
 his hand on the bridle of the king's horse, and swearing two or three 
 foul-mouthed Scottish oaths, (for he was of that nation,) said, " Will 
 you go upon your death in an instant ; and before his majesty under- 
 stood what he would have, turned his horse round ; upon which, a 
 word run through the troops, " that they should march to the right 
 hand," which was both from charging the enemy, or ousting their 
 own men ; and upon this they all turned their horses, and rode upon 
 the spur, as if they were every man to shift for himself. Vide Claren- 
 don, Hist. Rebellion, page 559. 
 
1645.] cromwell's letter. 127 
 
 lery, &c, together with the king's cabinet papers, fell 
 into the hands of the captors. Many females were 
 killed in the pursuit, and several women of quality taken 
 prisoners, together with a hundred debased Irish wo- 
 men. Trenches were dug, and the dead piled by 
 hundreds in, and the earth thrown loosely over them, 
 many of whom had not ceased to breathe. 
 
 So complete a victory had not been expected, and 
 the news of it spread like wildfire over England. 
 Fairfax sent a despatch to parliament, while Crom- 
 well wrote a letter to the House of Commons, from 
 whom, alone, he had received his appointment, the 
 House of Lords having refused to sanction the vote 
 which extended his commission. After speaking of 
 the battle, and the fruits of the victory, he concludes 
 with these remarkable words : " Sir, this is none other 
 but the hand of God, and to Him alone belongs the 
 glory, whereas none are to share with him. The 
 general served you with all faithfulness and honor ; 
 and the best commendation I can give him, is, that 
 I dare say he attributes all to God, and would rather 
 perish, than assume to himself, which is an honest 
 and thriving way ; and yet, as much for bravery 
 may be given to him, in this action, as to a man. 
 Honest men served you faithfully in this action. Sir, 
 they are trusty. I beseech you, in the name of God, 
 not to discourage them. I wish this action may beget 
 thankfulness in all that are concerned in it. He that 
 ventures his life for the liberty of his country, I wish 
 he trusts God for the liberty of his conscience, and 
 
128 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 you for the liberty he fights for." This allusion to 
 the general, is certainly cool in a subordinate, and 
 sounds strange; yet, Cromwell knew perfectly well 
 what he was about, and that, instead of affronting 
 Fairfax by it, he should please him ; for the latter 
 was a mere child in everything but military matters, 
 and wholly under his control. His great capa- 
 city, deep combinations, bold and daring projects, and 
 soaring genius, gave him complete ascendancy over 
 the just and generous, but more simple-minded, com- 
 mander-in-chief. Indeed, he was in reality the superior 
 officer, and Fairfax looked up to him as such, in form- 
 ing his military plans. Hence, the commendation was 
 from his superior both in character, talents, and influ- 
 ence in the army, and strength in the battle-field. The 
 "honest men" referred to, were the Independents — dis- 
 senters from the Presbyterian Church, who had been 
 regarded with so much suspicion ; and he here throws 
 in a word in their behalf, which fell like a bomb among 
 the Presbyterians. They saw, plainly, that Cromwell 
 would never tolerate their bigotry. 
 
 After this disastrous battle — the last he ever fought, 
 in person, for his throne — the king fled from town 
 to town ; and, finally, resolved to go to Wales, and 
 recruit his army. Sending Rupert to Bristol to de- 
 fend it, he proceeded to Ragland Castle, to consult 
 with the Marquis of Worcester, chief of the Catho- 
 lic party, how to retrieve his fallen fortunes. 
 
 In the meantime, his private papers, captured at 
 the battle of Naseby, were published abroad, and 
 
1645.] HIS ENERGY. 129 
 
 his secret purposes made known. From these, it was 
 evident, that, notwithstanding his fair promises and 
 proposals, he had never, for an instant, abandoned 
 the ground he took in the first conflict with parlia- 
 ment. Still dreaming of absolute power, and royal 
 prerogative, he was negotiating with foreign princes 
 for troops, with which to subdue his own subjects. 
 At this evidence of double-dealing, on the part of 
 their monarch, the indignation of the people broke 
 over all bounds, and none seemed to wish for peace. 
 " War ! war !" was in everybody's mouth ; and the 
 heavens gathered blacker than ever over the devoted 
 head of Charles. 
 
 On the very day that the news of the victory 
 reached parliament, Cromwell's appointment was 
 lengthened out to three months, and, at the expi- 
 ration of that time, to four months, and then to six 
 months, after which he himself took care of his com- 
 mission. 
 
 One great cause of his success, which followed, 
 was his celerity of movement. No difficulties ex- 
 hausted him, no pleasure beguiled, and no victories 
 lulled him into a moment's repose. No sooner was 
 the bloody field of Naseby swept of the enemy, than 
 he hurried Fairfax forward to Leicester, which im- 
 mediately fell ; and then pressed on to Taunton, around 
 which the profligate Goring lay with his army, in 
 close siege. One-third of the town had been taken ; 
 and in a few days more, unless relieved, it would be 
 given up to Goring' s brutal troops. But Cromwell 
 6* 
 
130 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 dashed upon them, driving them before him towards 
 Bridgewater. As he came in sight of the latter place, 
 he rode forward to make a reconnoisance, when a mus- 
 ket-ball, aimed at him, struck down a cornet by his side. 
 He resolved, at once, to storm the place ; and rushing 
 over its strong ramparts, swept them like a flood. 
 
 More than a thousand of Goring's army had been 
 killed, or taken prisoners, in these two encounters. 
 Moving still forward, he came upon the clubmen — a 
 third party, which pretended to be neutral, and was 
 composed of the peasantry and laborers of the coun- 
 try, who, armed with bludgeons, had organized them- 
 selves for mutual protection, against the violence of 
 both armies. Advancing with a small detachment 
 of horse towards Shaftesbury, he encountered a large 
 body, who, receiving his promise that they should 
 not be plundered, nor their rights invaded, quietly 
 dispersed. Proceeding to the town, he saw another 
 body of two thousand drawn up on Hambledon Hill, 
 who fired on the fifty horsemen he sent in advance, 
 to confer with them. The peaceable offer being re- 
 newed, they fired again, killing two men and four 
 horses. Cromwell then ordered a charge; and com- 
 ing on them in rear, dispersed them without loss to 
 himself, and took some three hundred prisoners, whom 
 he requested parliament to let him "send home, as 
 they were poor, silly creatures, who promised to 
 be very dutiful for time to come, and would be hanged 
 before they came out again." 
 
 This ended the clubmen ; who, notwithstanding their 
 
1645.] STORMING OF BRISTOL. 131 
 
 pretended neutrality, were royalists at heart — the king 
 having granted commissions to raise regiments of them, 
 all over England. Cromwell then returned to Sher- 
 burne, which was closely, besieged by Fairfax. The 
 castle having surrendered, they together pushed forward 
 towards Bristol, where Prince Rupert lay with 5,000 
 men. 
 
 STORxMING OF BRISTOL. 
 
 Bristol was one of the most important places in the 
 kingdom, and was not only well defended by walls and 
 gates, but surrounded with a line of works, protected by 
 strong forts, on which were placed a hundred and forty 
 cannon. Notwithstanding their recent successes, the 
 leaders of the parliamentary arm^were in much doubt 
 respecting the expediency of attacking so strong and 
 heavily garrisoned a place. Cromwell, however, know- 
 ing how important it was to keep the disaffected clubmen 
 from coming to a head, and the royalists from concen- 
 trating their forces, overruled all opposition, aild the 
 army continued to advance, till within four miles of 
 the town. A halt was then ordered, and a council of 
 war called, to decide whether they should approach .by 
 regular siege, or commence at once a close blockade. 
 The latter being resolved upon, they moved forward — 
 the enemy retiring before them, within the line of their 
 ranks, while the villages they had set on fire in their 
 retreat, blazed balefully up in the evening twilight. 
 
 Thus lighted to the walls of Bristol, the victorious 
 
132 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 army sat down before it, and commenced the invest- 
 ment. One brigade was marched to the south side of 
 the town, and entrenched itself on a hill that over- 
 looked the place; while Ireton, with a body of horse 
 and dragoons, took post on the north side, till the 
 infantry could come up and occupy the position. In a 
 short time the entire place was closely invested. Sally 
 after sally was made, but the beseigers successfully 
 maintained every post with but little loss. The hardest 
 duty devolved upon the cavalry, which was constantly 
 in motion, galloping from post to post, as each was 
 heavily threatened in turn. At length, a council was 
 called to consider whether an attempt should not be 
 made to carry the works by storm. The decision was 
 against it ; but eight days after, on re-consideration, an 
 assault was resolved upon. When the news spread 
 through the army, all was joy and confidence. Not 
 Rupert's dreaded horsemen, nor the frowning batteries 
 were so disheartening as the ceaseless watchfulness and 
 harrassing duty, to which they were subjected, without 
 making apparently any progress. 
 
 The 10th of September was fixed upon for the 
 assault — the hour to be one o'clock in the morning. 
 When everything was ready, the firing of a large 
 heap of straw, and the discharge t of four cannon, at 
 Prior's Hill fort, one of the strongest of the fortifi- 
 cations, were to be the signals for the attack. At 
 midnight, when . all was still in the city, and -naught 
 but the measured tread, and " all's well" of the drowsy 
 sentinel, broke the silence that reigned over the battle- 
 
1645.] THE STORM. 133 
 
 ments — the storming columns were arrayed, and stood in 
 close order awaiting the signal. At length, the mid- 
 night heavens flushed with a sudden glow, followed 
 by the sullen thunder of those four cannon; when, 
 with a shout that sent terror into the hearts of the 
 besieged, the brave fellows rushed on. Colonels Mon- 
 tague and Pickering stormed Lawford's Gate, " where 
 was a double work," and sweeping over it, within 
 the lines, pressed forward to the walls of the town, 
 and occupied the gate at Castle street. Two other 
 regiments, forcing their way over the works between 
 this gate and the river Avon, soon stood in commu- 
 nication with the others. Prior's Hill, a strong fort, 
 and the line extending downward from it to the Froom 
 river, were entrusted to Colonels Rainsborough and 
 Hammond. The latter, assaulting the works lower 
 down, gradually surmounted the obstacles that op- 
 posed his advance ; but Rainsborough, who moved 
 straight on the fort, suddenly saw a bare and solid 
 wall of masonry rise before him. A ladder of thirty 
 rounds would scarcely reach the top ; yet, nothing 
 daunted, he mounted, at the head of his followers. 
 But a row of glistening pikes fringed the parapet, 
 and forced them back. Again, resolutely ascending, 
 they stood on their precarious footing, and fought hand 
 to hand with the enemy. Thus, for three hours, did 
 they maintain this unequal contest, while four can- 
 non on the ramparts over head, kept up a plunging 
 fire of round and canister shot, on the dark masses 
 beneath. It was an incessant shout, and flash, and roar, 
 
134 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 around that single fort ; and the bloody struggle was 
 still going on, when Hammond, who had broken 
 through the line of works below — a major, by the 
 name of Bethel, being the first horseman within, 
 though his good steed fell beneath him in the at- 
 tempt, and he beside him, pierced with three balls — 
 now came marching up in rear. 
 
 To meet this new assailant, a strong body of horse 
 was sent out, which charged furiously on the wearied 
 column. But, at this critical moment, Captain Ire- 
 ton, brother of the gallant commander, who was so 
 severely wounded at Naseby, dashed forward with 
 a forlorn hope of horse, and checked their advance, 
 himself receiving two balls in the onset. The whole 
 regiment now moved forward, and entered the fort at 
 the same time that Rainsborough's men came pour- 
 ing over the ramparts, shouting victory. 
 
 The conquest of this fort, without which the whole 
 line of works, a mile in length, which had now been 
 captured, would have been untenable, finished the con- 
 flict on that side of Bristol, for the night ; for the orders 
 were, to wait for daylight, before attempting the town 
 itself. On the side where Colonel Welden commanded, 
 the assault was unsuccessful ; for the ladders proving 
 too short for the walls, the men were repulsed with 
 great slaughter. 
 
 Major Cromwell, a cousin of Oliver, was danger- 
 ously wounded here. 
 
 When morning dawned, Rupert, finding himself 
 hemmed in, his strong works taken, and his position 
 
1645.] THE VICTORY. 135 
 
 commanded by the republican guns, felt his proud 
 spirit bow. The soldiers, however, mad with rage, 
 fired the town in three places; and soon vast columns 
 of smoke began to ascend the heavens, while the crack- 
 ling of flames was distinctly heard without the walls. 
 Cromwell and Fairfax were filled with grief,, as they 
 contemplated the apparently inevitable destruction 
 of that splendid town. But fortunately, before the 
 conflagration had proceeded far, Rupert sounded a 
 parley, and despatched a message, offering to sur- 
 render the place, on condition that he, with his 
 forces, should be allowed to march forth. This was 
 granted ; and at two o'clock his humbled columns 
 took up their line of march for Oxford, and the 
 triumphant republicans, with streaming banners, entered 
 the place. 
 
 Here Cromwell again came near being killed. Af- 
 ter the taking of Prior's fort, as he and Fairfax sat 
 on the ramparts, a single cannon ball fired from the 
 castle, struck the stones not a foot from him; and went 
 whizzing past. 
 
 The news of this victory sent a thrill of joy 
 throughout the land, equal to that of Naseby. The 
 letter of Oliver, giving an account of it, was ordered 
 to be read in all the churches. 
 
 Cromwell now marched from one triumph to ano- 
 ther, with astonishing rapidity. Appearing before 
 Devizes, he summoned it to surrender. The com- 
 mander replied, " Win and wear it ;" which Oliver 
 did, without farther ceremony. He next stormed 
 
13G OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Berkley Castle ; and then drew up his little army 
 before Winchester, which capitulated without at- 
 tempting a resistance. Here his soldiers had a taste 
 of his discipline. Some of them robbed the inhabit- 
 ants, as they were leaving the place, which, being 
 told to him, he summoned six of them into his pre- 
 sence ; and compelling them to cast lots, ordered the 
 one on whom the lot fell, to be shot ; and sent the 
 remaining five to the royalist governor, to be punished 
 as he deemed best. Stern as death, where his com- 
 mands were slighted, he taught them that no bravery 
 or success could make him overlook disobedience. 
 
 STORMING OF BASING HOUSE. 
 
 After taking Winchester, he marched on Basing 
 House — one of the strongest holds of the king in Eng- 
 land, and which had hitherto resisted all efforts to 
 take it. It was the seat of the Marquis of Winchester, 
 and was composed of two houses — the old and the 
 new — both splendidly furnished, and "fit to make an 
 emperor's court,"-^one bed alone costing six thousand 
 dollars. The line of circumvallation extended over 
 a mile, and all the defences were of the most for- 
 midable kind. This tempestuous leader, wdio could 
 not brook the delay of sieges, nor even of close invest- 
 ments, but, mounting the walls, sword in hand, and 
 storming over the ruddy ramparts, had swept like 
 a devastating flood the length and breadth of the 
 country, now wheeled his cannon around the very^ 
 
1645.] STORMING OP BASING HOUSE. 137 
 
 citadel of royalty. The governor, on being sum- 
 moned to surrender, said to one of his councillors, 
 who advised him to submit, that " if it was the last 
 foot of land the king had in England, he would de- 
 fend it to the last;" and so sent word to Cromwell 
 The latter then opened all his batteries upon the 
 place, and rained such an iron storm on the mas- 
 sive walls, that they, at length, crumbled before it. 
 Breaches being thus made, he arrayed his storming 
 parties before daylight on the morning of the 14th of 
 October. Four cannon fired in rapid succession, was 
 to be the signal for them to fall on. All night long 
 had Cromwell been bowed in prayer before God ; and 
 now, resting on the verse of the 115th Psalm — " They 
 that make them are like unto them, so is every one 
 that trusteth in them;' — he ordered the signal to be 
 given; and with a shout the troops rushed on. Breast- 
 ing the volleys that met them, dashing fiercely on the 
 pikes that defended the passages, scorning all ob- 
 stacles, they scaled one wall, then pulling the ladders 
 after them, mounted another, dealing death at every 
 step, and conquering as much by their desperate 
 daring, as by their weapons. 
 
 The struggle was soon over ; and Basing House 
 fell. It was, however, on fire, from a fire-ball which 
 had been previously shot ; and the governor having 
 had no time to extinguish the flames, it soon be- 
 came a mass of ruins — the crumbling timbers, and 
 massive stones, overlaying the living and the dead. 
 The place was given up to plunder ; and the soldiers 
 
138 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 stripped not only every apartment of its furniture, but 
 even the lead from the gutters of the roof. A place that 
 put the assailants to the extremity of storming, was 
 regarded, in those times, the lawful property of the 
 soldiers; and they availed themselves of their rights 
 on this occasion to the full extent. 
 
 In the midst of the burning dwellings, and confusion, 
 and tumult of the plundering soldiers, Cromwell sat down 
 and wrote his despatch to parliament. He advised 
 them not to garrison it, but leave it dismantled; and 
 added, that if they wanted the work carried on, they 
 must raise recruits and pay the soldiers. As usual in 
 all his letters, he ascribed the entire success to God's 
 goodness. "God," he says, "exceedingly abounds in 
 his goodness to us ; and will not be weary, until right- 
 eousness and peace meet ; and until he hath brought 
 forth a glorious work in this poor kingdom." 
 
 No sooner were his troops rested, than he hurried on 
 to Langford House, near Salisbury, and summoned it 
 to surrender. Not caring to hazard the assault of a 
 man to whom walls and castles offered no impediment, 
 it hauled down its banner. Scarcely stopping to receive 
 its submission, he spurred forward in pursuit of Lord 
 Wentworth, who was at the head of a band of royalists. 
 Overtaking him at Bovey Chase, he relieved him of 500 
 prisoners and six standards ; then wheeling about, joined 
 Fairfax ; when the two together stormed Dartmouth, and 
 took it. 
 
 It was now the middle of winter ; yet the campaign 
 was urged on with vigor ; and these two commanders 
 
1645.] the king's movements. 139 
 
 pressed after Lord Hopton, commander-in-chief of the 
 forces in the West ; and came up with him, entrenched 
 at Torrington. This was in February, 1646. Hopton 
 made a gallant defence, but was finally routed ; though 
 not till he had been unhorsed, and wounded in the face 
 with a pike. Prince Charles, now fifteen years of age, 
 whom his father, as before stated, sent hither as gen- 
 eralissimo of the forces, had fled the approaching 
 storm, and taken refuge, with several noblemen, in the 
 isle of Scilly. The gallant Hopton soon after retired 
 " beyond seas," where he lived and died in poverty. 
 
 The king was now in a desperate case. During the 
 past summer, he had left Ragland Castle, to go to the re- 
 lief of Goring ; but being discouraged by the dissensions 
 among the officers, and the character of the new levies, 
 he retired to Wales. Here, rousing himself to make 
 another great effort for his kingdom, he gathered around 
 him what soldiers he could ; and departed for the North 
 to join Montrose, who was still victorious in Scotland. 
 Traversing Shropshire, Staffordshire, Derbyshire, and 
 Nottinghamshire, he safely reached Yorkshire ; calling 
 on all loyal gentlemen to rally to his standard, and go 
 with him to the aid of Montrose. But the battle of 
 Naseby was too fresh in their memories, in that quarter, 
 and old Lesley's Scottish horse were too near, to allow 
 them to show much enthusiasm. 
 
 Charles then abandoned his design of going to Scot- 
 land; and, with fifteen hundred men, again passed 
 through the centre of his kingdom, and arrived safely 
 at Oxford. He had been here but two days, when 
 
140 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 he heard of Montrose's astonishing victories — Both well, 
 Glasgow, and Edinburgh, had all opened their gates to 
 him. Elated by the news, he again, August 31st, set 
 out for Scotland. But his sudden energy gave way; 
 and hearing of the investment of Bristol, he said he must 
 return and succor it. He, however, left Rupert to his 
 fate ; and repaired to Ragland Castle, to talk over mat- 
 ters again with the ^Marquis of Worcester. He had 
 been here but a day or two, w r hen he was astounded 
 with the news of the fall of Bristol. He immediately 
 w r rote a reproachful letter to Rupert, which produced 
 a coldness between them ; and it was with the greatest 
 difficulty the latter could appease his royal master. 
 
 Gloomy and desponding, Charles once more turned 
 his eyes towards Scotland and the victorious Montrose ; 
 and he determined to hasten thither. But it was neces- 
 sary first to relieve Chester, now closely besieged : for 
 since Bristol had fallen, there was no other port in which 
 troops from Ireland, the only resource except that of 
 Montrose left him, could be safely landed. With this 
 resolution, he started off for the Welsh mountains : but, 
 overtaken on the way by the republicans under the 
 command of Poyntz, he was, after a sharp encounter, 
 so roughly handled, that he turned back disconsolate. 
 It was well he did; for Montrose was no longer at 
 the head of an army. His brilliant successes over the 
 Covenanters had ended : — completely routed at Phillips- 
 haugh by Lesley, he was now a fugitive like the king. 
 
 Thus, prop after prop gave way under the despairing 
 monarch ; and, uncertain which way to direct his steps, 
 
1645.] CHARLES TURNS TO PARLIAMENT. 141 
 
 he finally proceeded to Norwich, one of the few strong 
 places that still held out for him. But he had only gone 
 into a divided and mutinous army; a part of which 
 soon marched away in anger. He was here, while 
 Cromwell's cannon were playing on Basing House, and 
 his victorious troops storming over the chief towns in 
 his kingdom. But being pressed by Poyntz, with the 
 parliamentary troops, he, in the beginning of November, 
 was compelled again to flee. Accompanied by only 
 four or five hundred cavaliers ; with his beard shaved 
 to complete his disguise, he left the town at eleven 
 o'clock, and travelled night and day, till he reached Ox- 
 ford. Here, to swell his anguish, and press him deeper 
 and deeper in the flood that now, without let or hind- 
 rance, swept over his devoted head, came, in rapid suc- 
 cession, the news of the victories of Fairfax and Crom- 
 well, which we have been describing. Humbled and 
 helpless as a child, he asked his counsellors what should 
 be done. They advised him again to open negotiations 
 with parliament ; and finding no other resource left 
 him, he consented ; and commissioners were appointed. 
 But parliament was far from being eager to nego- 
 tiate with him — their relative positions had changed ; 
 besides, a new set of members had come in, less 
 favorable to the royal interests, among whom were Lud- 
 low, Ireton, Admiral Blake, Algernon Sidney, and 
 Hutchinson. The progress of the war had also es- 
 tranged, still farther, the two parties ; animosities had 
 assumed a more violent character, and parliament 
 pressed harder and harder on royalist noblemen, and 
 
142 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Irish papists. No quarter was given to the latter 
 taken under arms, and they were slain by scores; 
 and the revolution which had commenced so mildly, 
 now covered with blood, began to look grim and 
 monster-like. Still Cromwell, Fairfax, and the chief 
 officers, maintained their high character ; and held in 
 check by their integrity, the increasing violence — a 
 violence ever engendered by a revolution. But the 
 treaty of the king with the Irish, and his negotiations 
 with the pope, and the plan to throw a large papist 
 army on the shores of England ; which had all been dis- 
 covered and published this fall, tended to swell still 
 higher the popular indignation, and destroy all confi- 
 dence on the part of parliament, in his integrity and 
 truth. 
 
 But one hope still remained to Charles — his enemies 
 were divided, and out of their contentions capital 
 might be made. The Scotch army was grumbling 
 and discontented — the Independents and Presbyte- 
 rians plotted against each other ; and so he, unable 
 longer to practice his diplomacy abroad, ventured still 
 to press his proposals on parliament. 
 
 During the spring of 1646, he corresponded both with 
 the Presbyterians and Independents — now scheming 
 with Vane, and now secretly holding out large pro- 
 mises to the Presbyterian leaders. The Scotch, also, 
 received a share of his attention ; and the king thought, 
 it would go hard with him, if he could not get some 
 foot-hold in one or other of the parties. 
 
 It was in this month (March), that Lord Astley, 
 
1646.] DEFEAT OF LORD ASTLEY. 143 
 
 who commanded the only large body of troops left 
 to the king, was utterly routed in Gloucestershire, 
 and the last vestige of resistance removed. The 
 old veteran struggled nobly in this his last battle ; 
 and after it was over, and he a prisoner, he was so 
 fatigued that he could scarcely walk. The pity of 
 the soldiers was moved by his venerable appearance ; 
 and wishing to honor the grey hairs they had seen 
 streaming in the thickest of the fight, brought him a 
 drum to rest upon. Sitting down, the old noble ex- 
 claimed — " Gentlemen, you have now done your work, 
 and may go to play, unless you will fall out with your- 
 selves.'' 
 
 The next day the king sent a message to parlia- 
 ment, offering to give up all his garrisons, disband 
 his troops, and again take up his residence in White- 
 hall. Nothing can show more strikingly his confi- 
 dence in the integrity of his enemies, than this offer. 
 After deluging the kingdom in blood, and plotting 
 their ruin — after practising duplicity, falsehood, and 
 treachery, (enough to wreck any character but that 
 of a king,) he offered voluntarily to put himself in 
 their power, requiring only the guarantee of their 
 word. But this very generous act parliament could 
 not properly appreciate ; and penetrating, at once, the 
 infamous design at the bottom, viz., to be where he 
 could take advantage of their dissensions ; forbade any 
 one to receive, or visit, him. The most violent mea- 
 sures were adopted — all public meetings were pro- 
 hibited, and malcontents, and suspected persons, 
 
144 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ordered immediately to leave London. Soon after, 
 it was decreed, that whoever should attempt to enter 
 the city, from one of the royalist towns, without a 
 passport, or hold any intercourse with the king, 
 should be put to death. Men began to tremble be- 
 fore this revolutionary government, which could pass 
 so quickly from requests to commands, and assume 
 so stern and terrible an aspect. 
 
 While things were in this position, Fairfax and 
 Cromwell, returning victorious from the West, drew 
 rapidly on towards Oxford. Their banners were 
 already within sight of the place; and, like a scor- 
 pion girt with fire, the unhappy king knew not which 
 way to turn. But danger pressed : a few more days 
 and every crevice w T ould be closed, and he be compelled 
 to surrender as a prisoner of war. In this dilemma, he 
 resolved to throw himself into the Scottish camp, 
 and trust his fortune with the solemn Covenanters. 
 The religious dissensions which prevailed between 
 them and the parliament prompted him to this course. 
 Although the Presbyterians had obtained most of their 
 demands, they could not wring from the Indepen- 
 dents the concession that presybtery was of divine 
 right, which placed parliament and the assembly 
 of divines in direct collision. The Independents, in 
 cases of excommunication and church discipline, 
 allowed an appeal to parliament — thus mixing up 
 civil and religious matters. To complete the disgust 
 of the Scotch Covenanters, who regarded the denial 
 of the divine rights of presbytery as rank heresy — 
 
1646.] the king's flight. 145 
 
 parliament, now much influenced by the Indepen- 
 dents, showed great forbearance towards dissenters of 
 all classes from the Presbyterian Church. 
 
 Knowing how the Scotch felt, and having received 
 some general vague promises of protection, the king 
 resolved to place himself in their hands, hoping that 
 his presence in their midst, would kindle their loyalty, 
 and enlist them in his favor. So, on the 27th of 
 April, at midnight, accompanied only by Dr. Hudson, 
 a clergyman, and Ashburnham, he, in disguise as a 
 servant of the latter, passed through the gates of Oxford, 
 and took the road to London. As he came in sight of his 
 former capital, he paused and hesitated long about enter- 
 ing it, and flinging himself on the mercy of parliament. 
 But, at length, he mournfully turned his horse's head 
 northward, and after nine days weary wandering, arriv- 
 ed in the Scottish camp. The Earl of Leven, and 
 other officers, affected surprise at his arrival ; but re- 
 ceived him with great respect. A messenger was im- 
 mediately despatched to parliament, announcing the 
 king's presence in the army. 
 
 Cromwell, who had started for London the Wednes- 
 day before the king left Oxford, was in his seat when the 
 news was received. Arriving in the city, the entire 
 population had poured forth to meet him — the members 
 of parliament rose as he entered the House^ — the Speaker 
 pronounced an eulogium upon his acts ; and a vote of 
 " hearty thanks," for " his great and many services," 
 was passed. 
 
 Previous to this, in February, an annuity of £2,500, 
 7 
 
146 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 m 
 or more than $12,000, had been voted him, towards 
 the payment of which, the estates of the Earl of 
 Worcester, Lord Herbert, Sir John Somerset and 
 his sons, in the county of Southampton, were made 
 over to him. 
 
 When he returned to parliament, he considered the 
 war closed; and hence, was prepared to plunge into 
 the chaos of political strife, and prevent the govern- 
 ment from rendering null and void what he had 
 obtained by his arms. 
 
 Soon after, came out the letter of Charles to the 
 Duke of Ormond, his lieutenant in Ireland, written 
 just before he left Oxford, in which he stated that 
 he had gone to the Scotch, on the strength of their 
 promise to support his claims. The Scotch, alarmed at 
 this implied charge of bad faith on their part, towards 
 parliament, instantly, in strong northern dialect, pro- 
 nounced the declaration " a most damnable untruth." 
 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BETWEEN THE CIVIL WARS FROM THE SPRING OF 1646, 
 TO THAT OF 1648. 
 
 Struggle between the Presbyterians" and Independents — Negotiations 
 with the King — Bargain of Parliament with Scotland — The King 
 Given up — The Presbyterians Resolve to Overthrow Cromwell, and 
 the Independents — Successful Plot of Cromwell to Carry off the 
 King — The Army Refuses to Disband, and Remonstrates with Parlia- 
 ment — Marches on London — Consternation of the People — Expul- 
 sion of the Eleven Members, and Occupation of London by the 
 Troops — Triumph of the Independents — New Character of the Re- 
 volution — Slanderers of Cromwell — Interview of the King with His 
 Children — Noble Attempt of Cromwell to Induce the King to Ac- 
 cept the Throne under Restrictions which Should Secure the 
 Liberties of the People — Denounced by the Army for It-Discovers 
 the Treachery of the King — His Flight — Mutiny in the Army 
 — Quelled by Cromwell — Treaty of the King with the Scotch — 
 Anger of the Parliament, which Resolves to Settle the Nation with- 
 out Him — Cromwell Consults the Leaders as to the Form of Gov- 
 ernment to be adopted — Commencement of the Insurrection — 
 Mob in London — Presbyterians again Obtain the Ascendency, and 
 Cromwell Departs for Wales — His Previous Sickness — His Son 
 Richard Contracts a Marriage — Prayer-Meeting in the Army. 
 
 From the time of the king's flight from Oxford, 
 April, 1646, to May, 1648, the sword of war was 
 sheathed in England ; and the army lay quiet, ex- 
 cept as it gave its opinion of certain acts of par- 
 liament, or served to check its tyranny. During these 
 
148 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 two years, political and religious affairs were in inex- 
 tricable confusion. Between the king, and parliament, 
 and Presbyterians, and Independents, everything got 
 reduced to chaos. In parliament, the Presbyterians 
 and Independents struggled against each other, as 
 the Girondists and Mountain in the French conven- 
 tion. At first, the great question was, what should be 
 done with the king, then in the Scottish camp. The 
 Scotch besought his majesty to subscribe to the cove- 
 nant, and end the troubles of his distracted kingdom — 
 nay, even went so far as to send a clergyman to 
 convert him. The parliament declared that the 
 Scotch had nothing to do with their lawful sovereign, 
 and were bound to give him up. The latter replied, 
 that he was their prince, as well as that of England. 
 Parliament then endeavored to get rid of the Scot- 
 tish army altogether; and mutual recriminations and 
 revilings, threatened an open rupture. All this pleased 
 the king, and excited his hopes; for, with the assist- 
 ance of one or the other party, he fondly believed 
 he should be able again to mount the throne. 
 
 At length, in July, parliament sent proposals to 
 him, on the acceptance of which, he could be rein- 
 stated in power. But, like the sybil's book, he found 
 that, with every rejection of the hard conditions, 
 some lines he wished to retain were torn out, while 
 the price remained the same. He was now required 
 to subscribe to the covenant — to abolish the Episco- 
 pal Church — surrender to parliament, for twenty years, 
 the whole military power of the kingdom — exclude 
 
1646.] PROPOSALS TO THE KING. 149 
 
 seventy of his personal friends from any amnesty- 
 and, lastly, to grant, that all persons who had fought 
 in his behalf, should be ineligible to any public office, 
 unless at the pleasure of parliament. Charles had 
 never before pondered such hard conditions. Still his 
 friends urged him to accept them — even his wife, 
 in France, threw in her entreaty; but humbled and 
 penniless as he was, he could not consent to un- 
 crown himself so utterly, and seal his own dis- 
 honor, in the sight of the world. The partial con- 
 cessions wrung out of him, by the entreaties of his 
 friends, would not answer : parliament would have the 
 whole, or nothing. He, therefore, rejected the pro- 
 posals, to the great delight of the Independents, who 
 feared nothing so much as a coalition between him 
 and the Presbyterians. The latter were proportiona- 
 bly crest-fallen ; for they saw no way to make a 
 compact with the king, which the people would not 
 repudiate. 
 
 Thus matters stood with parties in parliament, while 
 the two kingdoms were quarreling about the disposal 
 of his majesty's person. In the meantime, the king was 
 treated with the utmost respect; and he, in turn, at- 
 tended the Presbyterian meetings, and showed all 
 proper decorum to the ministers. His fallen great- 
 ness touched the sympathy of the people; and, on 
 one occasion, a clergyman at Newcastle, whither he 
 had been carried, took, for his text, that passage in 
 2d Samuel, beginning, "And, behold, all the men 
 of Israel came to the king, and said to him, Why 
 
150 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 have our brethren, the men of- Judah, stolen thee 
 away, and have brought the king, and his household, 
 and all David's men with him, over Jordan," &c. # 
 At another time, the preacher, in his presence, giving 
 out the psalm — 
 
 " Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself 
 The wicked deeds to praise ?" — 
 
 the king arose, and called for. the one commencing — 
 
 " Have mercy, Lord ! on me, I pray, 
 For men would me deceive j" 
 
 which the sympathizing audience immediately sung. 
 These, however, were mere expressions of feeling 
 from powerless men. His enemies kept resolutely on 
 their course. 
 
 At length, the Scotch parliament decreed, that the 
 king should be set at liberty, and sent to London : 
 but the assembly of divines countermanded this order, 
 and parliament submitted. They declared it wicked 
 and impolitic, to release a monarch, whose hatred to 
 the covenant was so great, that he would not sign it, 
 even to purchase back his throne. 
 
 The matter was finally adjusted in a more business- 
 like way. The Scots wanted indemnity for the ex- 
 penses of the war they had carried on for their sister 
 kingdom; and parliament longed to get possession of 
 the king. The former demanded nearly £700,000, 
 which the parliament cut down to £400,000 — half 
 to be paid immediately, and the remaining portion in 
 
 • Vide Clarendon, Book X., 602. 
 
1647.] THE KING GIVEN UP. 151 
 
 two separate instalments. Nothing was said about 
 the person of the king, in this agreement ; but it was 
 perfectly well understood, that he was to be surren- 
 dered on the reception of the money. Skippon, with 
 a strong escort, took charge of the £200,000, which was 
 conveyed in thirty-six carts to the Scottish head-quarters. 
 About the same time, January 6, 1647, the commis- 
 sioners of the Scotch parliament arrived, with an 
 order from that body, to have the king surrendered up 
 to the English parliament. Charles was playing chess, 
 when the letter announcing the fact was delivered to 
 him ; but, without manifesting any emotion, he quietly 
 laid it aside, and finished the game. A few days after 
 he was handed over to the English troops, and took his 
 departure for Nottingham. On his way, the people 
 afflicted with the king's evil, crowded around him, to 
 receive his touch ; and many demonstrations of sympa- 
 thy and allegiance served somewhat to lighten his sor- 
 rows. Arrived at Nottingham, the head-quarters of 
 Fairfax, the latter went out to meet him, and dismount- 
 ing, kissed his hand, then rode respectfully by his side 
 into the town. On his departure for Holmby the next 
 day, he said that Fairfax " was a man of honor, for he 
 had kept his word with him" — a compliment not one 
 of the king's enemies could reciprocate. 
 
 ATTEMPT TO CRUSH THE ARMY. 
 
 This was on the 16th of February; and, soon after, 
 parliament passed a law establishing the Presbyterian 
 
15*3 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 form oi' church government. It was also resolved* 
 that the army should be disbanded, except twelve thou- 
 sand, who had been destined for Ireland to aid the 
 persecuted Protestants, and those necessary for gar- 
 risons and police regulations. Fairfax, whom they 
 were unable to remove, was to have no officer under 
 him oi' higher rank than a colonel, and he not a 
 member o{ parliament ; and even these subordinates 
 were required to conform to the Presbyterian Church, 
 and sign the covenant. This was a bold push ; and 
 Cromwell saw, at once, its object. The Presbyte- 
 rians, by the recent elections, had regained their ascen- 
 dancy : and. were now determined to make good use 
 q{ their power, and crush the Independents at one 
 blow. Under pretence of rooting out heresies and 
 schisms almost endless, they endeavored to get rid of 
 the Independent army, now their chief fear. There 
 was sufficient lawlessness of belief, no doubt, to de- 
 mand some action, if they would not see rampant 
 radicalism overturn everything stable and orderly : 
 but. in this movement, they struck at the good and 
 bad alike. Days of lasting and prayer were de- 
 creed, to show that religious zeal lay at the bottom 
 of the despotic measure ; but the army was not to be 
 deceived. 
 
 While such portentous clouds were gathering over 
 the party of Oliver, we hear little of him. He, 
 too, was for order ; but not for that which classed 
 him, and the brave officers who had toiled with him 
 over so many battle-fields, with the disorderly. In 
 
(647.] Hlfl SKILLFUL UAVAOEMZNT. lo.'j 
 
 the oppr< which the Presb 
 
 eminent began to persecute all di but 
 
 - opacy under a new name. If this was to be 
 the final 'settlement of the natio 1 in 
 
 rain; and liberty of conscience had been only a word 
 with which to beguile true-he; jon- 
 
 That he, with his deep penetrating glance, fath- 
 omed aJJ this, and resolved to thwart it, uo one can 
 doubt. The him in parlia- 
 
 ment; but th was uot yet disbanded, and would 
 
 Dot be till he gave the word. \\<- had powerful friends 
 there whom the soldiers adored — th I 
 
 bert, the stern Ireton, and Hammond, and Pride, 
 Rainsborough, and others; and more than all, 1 
 of himself, still strong in tn What 
 
 conferences he had with th pro- 
 
 1 we know not ilent on this 
 
 part of his life, hut we soon find the army petitioning 
 parliament. First came a mild and respectful petition, 
 signed by fourteen office] for arrears of pay, 
 
 before going to Ireland. The parliament resented this as 
 an affront, and rebuked t! rner petition 
 
 followed, addressed not to parliament, hut to Fairfax, 
 declaring that no one should go to Ireland against his 
 will, and still demanding pay. Fairfax was commanded 
 to put a stop to these proceedings, which he promised 
 to do. 
 
 Meanwhile, the necessary steps towards disbanding 
 the troops were resumed — the corps for Ireland was 
 formed, and Skippon and Massey appointed to command 
 
154 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 it. But when the commissioners went to announce this 
 decree at Saffron WaMen, the head-quarters of the 
 army, tw r o hundred officers assembled at Fairfax's 
 house, and boldly told them that though they respected 
 .and loved Skippon, they would have their old and well 
 tried commanders, " Fairfax and Cromwell," or none. 
 A fortnight after this, a hundred and forty-one officers 
 sent a petition to parliament, justifying their course, 
 and declaring, that although they were soldiers, they 
 were still citizens of the commonwealth, and had a right 
 to act for its interests. On the heels of this petition 
 came another, w T hich Skippon immediately read to the 
 astonished parliament. It was brought by three private 
 soldiers, and contained the absolute refusal of eight regi- 
 ments of horse to serve in Ireland. It boldly accused 
 the leaders of the measure of being tyrants, whose only 
 design w T as to divide the soldiers from the officers they 
 loved. The announcement of this open revolt, and this 
 stern accusation, fell like a thunderbolt on the Presby- 
 terians. The three soldiers were immediately sum- 
 moned before the House. "Where was this letter 
 got up?" asked the Speaker. "At a meeting of the 
 regiments," was the reply. "Who WTOte it?" "A 
 council of delegates chosen by the regiments." "Did 
 your officers sanction it?" "But few of them knew 
 anything about it." He then asked them if they were 
 ever cavaliers. They replied they were not; that 
 they had been in the army from the battle of Edgehill 
 down ; and one of them stepping forward, said he had 
 been wounded five times in one battle, and appealed to 
 
1647.] ANGER OF THE ARMY. 155 
 
 Skippon for the truth of his statement. The general 
 remembered the brave fellow, whom he had succored 
 while bleeding on the field. To the question respecting 
 the accusation of tyranny, they replied they were mere 
 agents, and had nothing to do but bear back the answer 
 of the House.* The smothered indignation then broke 
 forth, and threats were hurled against the refractory 
 regiments. Ludlow says that in the midst of this tumult, 
 Cromwell, who was next him, bent over and whispered, 
 " these men (referring to the Presbyterian leaders) will 
 never leave till the army -pull them out by the ears" 
 Significant language and somewhat prophetic — the full 
 scope of which the prophet, perhaps, knew better than 
 anybody else. 
 
 The anger of parliament, at length, gave way to 
 alarm, for the army was evidently banding together 
 against it ; — already had it erected a sort of independent 
 government, in the shape of two councils — one com- 
 posed of officers — the other, a kind of lower house of 
 adjutators, as they were called, and chosen by the private 
 soldiers to represent their interests. Added to this, was 
 the report that it had made proposals to the king. 
 Something must be done immediately, and so in May 
 two months' pay was voted to the troops who would 
 disband — a general amnesty decreed to all offenders 
 during the war, and money appropriated to the widows 
 and families of soldiers. Cromwell, Ireton, Skippon 
 and Fleetwood, favorite generals in the army, were ap- 
 pointed commissioners to carry out these measures. 
 * Vide Rush worth, Whitelocke, and others. 
 
156 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 After a fortnight's labor, they returned with written 
 articles of agreement proposed by the army. Parlia- 
 ment thanked Cromwell for the manner in which he 
 had discharged his duty ; but instead of acting on the 
 articles submitted, passed regulations of its own, and 
 despatched commissioners to head-quarters to carry 
 them out, and thus effect a final settlement. But the 
 conditions did not suit the army. Eight weeks' pay had 
 been voted them ; — they wanted " eight times eight," and 
 would not disband without it. 
 
 The commissioners found all in commotion — regi- 
 ments, whose officers attempted in vain to quell them, 
 were seen, without leaders, marching with colors flying 
 to those who stood firm against the parliament. The 
 money sent to pay the troops who should disband 
 peaceably, w r as seized — the soldiers clamored for their 
 rights, and demanded that a general meeting should be 
 called, where their grievances might be listened to. A 
 council of officers was immediately assembled, who 
 voted almost unanimously, that the decrees of parlia- 
 ment were unjust ; and appointed a grand meeting of all 
 the troops. It took place near Newmarket, June 6th, 
 and the soldiers, after much haranguing, praying and 
 agitation, entered into a solemn covenant to defend 
 themselves against the oppressive acts of parliament. 
 
 Meanwhile, the king was at Holmby, ready to take 
 advantage of these dissensions, and league himself with 
 either party, which would best secure his own advance- 
 ment. 
 
1647.] SEIZURE OF THE KING. 157 
 
 THE KING SEIZED. 
 
 But on the 2d day of June, there occurred a singular 
 interruption to nis quiet life. It was a pleasant summer 
 day, and he was out in the open country, about two 
 miles from Holmby, playing at bowls on Althorpe 
 down, when suddenly a stranger, in the uniform of 
 Fairfax's guards, was seen standing in the midst of the 
 parliamentary commissioners who had accompanied 
 him to his pastime. While they were questioning him, 
 the news came that a large body of horse was approach- 
 ing Holmby. The stranger was asked if he had heard 
 of them. "I saw them yesterday," he replied, "not 
 thirty miles off." On this, all mounted in haste and 
 galloped back to Holmby, the gates of which were im- 
 mediately shut. The report was true. One cornet 
 Joyce, apparently without orders, had sallied out of 
 Oxford, with five hundred troopers at his back, to seize 
 the king, and carry him by force, to the army. He 
 arrived at midnight before the castle, and demanded 
 admission. Some show of resistance was made at first, 
 but the garrison, after a little conversation with the 
 soldiers outside, lowered the portcullis and opened the 
 gates, and those five hundred horsemen came clattering 
 into the courtyard, and dismounted as quietly as if in 
 their own barracks. 
 
 The castle was in the bold cornet's hands, and the 
 commissioners, after some hours parley, gave up all 
 idea of resistance. At ten o'clock that night, Joyce 
 
158 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 demanded to see the king. He was told that he was 
 in bed. " I don't care," he replied, " I must see him ;" 
 and with a cocked pistol in his hand, he proceeded to 
 the apartment of Charles. The guards at the door 
 refused him entrance, at which Joyce grew indignant. 
 Sharp words and threats passed between them, which 
 roused the king, who ordered him to be admitted. He 
 then entered into a long conversation with Joyce; and 
 finding how matters stood, bade him good-night, pro- 
 mising, if the soldiers confirmed his statements, to go 
 with him the next morning. In the morning, Joyce 
 drew up his squadrons in the castle yard, and then pro- 
 ceeded to the king's apartment. Charles met him at 
 the top of the stairs, and asked him by what authority 
 he pretended to seize him. He replied, by that of the 
 army. The king told him that was not legal, and 
 inquired if he had a written order from Fairfax. Joyce 
 still replying indefinitely, the king said, "Come, Mr. 
 Joyce, be frank with me, and tell me where is your 
 commission ?" " There it is, sir," he replied, pointing 
 to the court yard below. " Where ?" repeated the 
 king. " There, sir ;" and the king saw the dark ranks 
 of his followers drawn up in perfect order, and waiting 
 their leader's commands. " Your instructions are writ- 
 ten in very legible characters," said Charles ; " 'tis truly 
 a fair commission — you have as handsome a company 
 as I have seen for a great while." He then asked 
 where he was to be carried. " To Oxford," said Joyce. 
 The king objecting to this place, as well as to Cam- 
 bridge, he was taken, at his own request, to Newmarket. 
 
THE KING WITH THE ARMY. 159 
 
 Joyce immediately despatched a messenger to London 
 to announce his success to Cromwell, or, in his absence, 
 to Arthur Haselrig or Col. Fleetwood. The latter 
 received it: for Cromwell had already departed for 
 head-quarters, where he arrived before the king. 
 
 Parliament was astounded at the news; and the 
 whole kingdom thrown into a state of alarm. " The 
 king is with the army, and the army is against par- 
 liament !" such was the startling fact that pressed itself on 
 every man's attention. The officers who were members 
 of the House, were immediately ordered to the head of 
 their regiments: Cromwell, as already seen, had not 
 waited for commands ; and on the same day that the 
 vote was carried, held an interview with the king, at 
 head-quarters. Fairfax was troubled to find Charles in 
 his custody ; and demanded to know by whose authority 
 he had been seized. "By mine," said Ireton ; "I gav*e 
 orders that the king should be seized at Holmby, not 
 brought off." "It was necessary," said Cromwell, "or 
 the king would have been seized by parliament." Two 
 days after, the officers presented themselves, in a body, 
 to the king — most of them kissing his hand : but Oli- 
 ver and Ireton sternly stood aside. 
 
 No sooner had Cromwell seen how things were settled 
 at head-quarters, than he, according to Guizot, hastened 
 back to parliament, knowing that a storm was gathering 
 over his head. When he took his seat in the House, 
 every eye was turned upon him ; and every soul felt that 
 he was at the bottom of this deep-laid plan — so deep, 
 that no proof of the real author could be obtained. 
 
1G0 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Grimston arose and boldly accused him of designing to 
 employ the army against parliament ; and brought for- 
 ward two officers, who testified that he had said, the 
 House of Commons must be purged, and " that the army 
 alone could do it." Upon this, Cromwell made a speech, 
 declaring his innocence, with tears and sobs, and the 
 most solemn protestations ; w T hich so wrought upon the 
 House, that it dropped the prosecution. 
 
 This whole affair of Cromwell's accusation and de- 
 fence, making him out a hypocrite, liar and perjurer, as 
 given by Guizot, is quoted by him from a note in Har- 
 ris's life of Cromwell. We took some pains to trace the 
 statement to its source ; and found, at last, that it rested 
 alone on Mr. Grimston's — the accuser's — declaration. 
 It bears on its face the evidence of falsehood; not 
 only from its being inconsistent with the character 
 of Cromwell, but also from the silence of other his- 
 torians respecting it. Such men as Hume and Cla- 
 rendon would not have omitted so marked an evi- 
 dence of his duplicity and falsehood. Besides, his 
 enemies have never given him credit for being 
 an orator; nay, on the contrary, pronounce him a 
 heavy speaker: yet here, he completely deludes and 
 masters his enemies by his consummate acting. If 
 anything more were wanting to throw utter discredit 
 upon this account, as given in all its details, by Guizot 
 and others, it would be found in the fact that no traces 
 of it are left on the records of the House : it rests solely 
 on Grimston's after assertions. 
 
 At all events, he was with the army, June 7th, at the 
 
1647.] GRAND ARMY MEETING. 161 
 
 reception of the king, and again June 10th, at its great 
 rendezvous, on Triploe Heath, near Cambridge. 
 
 A day of fasting and prayer, set apart to ask God's 
 direction in the course they should adopt, preceded this 
 grand gathering of the soldiers. At the appointed time, 
 twenty-one thousand men marched to the place of ren- 
 dezvous, to decide on the acts of parliament. It was a 
 solemn sight there on the summer morning, those 
 twenty-one thousand men, assembled to demand their 
 rights. As they stood in perfect order, Fairfax, with the 
 commissioners from parliament, rode to the head 
 of the regiments to know if they acquiesced in the 
 votes of parliament. The question was submitted to 
 each regiment separately, to be decided by ballot. 
 Parliament had scarce one on its side; and when 
 the commissioners read the result aloud, a deep murmur 
 ran through the host, and then the shout of " Justice ! 
 Justice !" rolled over the field and shook the deep vault 
 of heaven. 
 
 That very afternoon the order to march was given, 
 and the army began to move towards London, while a 
 long letter, setting forth their grievances, and signed 
 by thirteen of the principal officers, was despatched to 
 parliament. This letter, throughout, bears the stamp 
 of Cromwell's mind. First came a plain statement of 
 facts ; then a defence of their motives and conduct, and 
 last of all, a solemn warning, and a hint about London 
 being given up to the soldiers, &c, which made the 
 city turn pale, and honorable members tremble in their 
 seats. 
 
162 OLIVE U CllOMWELL. 
 
 No one can doubt that Oliver was at the bottom 
 of all this. He saw, in the first attempt of the Presby- 
 terians to disband the army, the plan to crush himself 
 and friends and liberty clearly developed; and he 
 resolved to thwart it, not by long speeches in parlia- 
 ment, but steady, resolute action. The organization of 
 the two councils in the army, was evidently his work ; 
 for, through his friends in these, he could reach every 
 man, and yet not be discerned. So, also, was the forci- 
 ble removal of the king his doings, though the exact 
 extent of his agency in the matter has never been 
 known. He probably induced Ireton to take the 
 responsibility of sending Joyce to watch Charles at 
 Holmby Castle, and baffle the designs of the Presby- 
 terians, while at the same time he caused an intimation 
 to be conveyed to the bold cornet, that he was to bring 
 his majesty away to the army. The Presbyterians had 
 resolved to get him in their power, and to this end had 
 passed a vote, requesting him to take up his residence 
 in Oatlands castle, near London. Cromwell, who saw 
 at once the advantage this would give his enemies, 
 determined to prevent it, and seize the king himself. 
 From his seat in parliament, he looked around him, and 
 reaching out one hand towards his sovereign, and the 
 other towards the army, he had them both in his power 
 before his foes were aware that he had made the first 
 movement. By his adroit management, he succeeded 
 in quieting all suspicion in the House, until his plans 
 were fully matured ; then throwing aside the mask of 
 respectfulness he had so long worn over a heart burst- 
 
1647.] HIS POWER OVER OTHERS. 163 
 
 ing with scorn and indignation, he placed himself at 
 the head of the army, and pointing with his sword 
 towards London, gave the order to march. 
 
 Could this masterly scheme, from the first initial step, 
 to its final consummation, be unravelled, we should get a 
 new insight into the amazing intellect, sleepless indus- 
 try, and untiring energy of this wonderful man. He 
 had not to do with supple knaves, to whom a fair 
 prospect of success was a sufficient motive ; but stern 
 republicans, clear-headed thinkers, and conscientious 
 men. How he succeeded in harmonizing the con- 
 flicting elements, and binding together, as one man, 
 characters so diametrically opposite, and finally concen- 
 trating all the energy of that terrible army in his single 
 will, must ever remain a mystery to those historians who 
 underrate his intellect. To account for it on the ground 
 of cunning and hypocrisy, augurs either a bigot, rendered 
 incapable of judgment by prejudice, or a mind too weak 
 to estimate the men and events of that period. Grant- 
 ing he was false and treacherous as Judas, it furnishes no 
 explanation of his astonishing success. Mere duplicity 
 never yet combatted a parliament and army, and single- 
 handed struggled against the machinations of men in 
 power, and came off triumphant. The truth is, Crom- 
 well possessed a grasp of mind seldom equalled. He 
 not only easily penetrated the plans woven directly 
 about his feet, but saw farther than all other men of his 
 time — and slowly gathering into his mighty hand the 
 tangled threads of the revolution, at length, swayed the 
 kingdom by his touch. In one respect, he bears a 
 
164 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 striking resemblance to Bonaparte and Washington, for 
 like them, he took, at. a single glance, the measure of 
 every man who approached him. He read both their 
 weaknesses and capabilities without an effort, and 
 knew intuitively what motives to apply, and what use 
 to make of 'them. It was this strange practical sagaci- 
 ty that gave him such power over all who approached 
 him. He seemed to penetrate their inmost hearts, and to 
 command them, because he had a right so to do. The 
 subtle Vane, perhaps the greatest diplomatist of his 
 time, yielded to his loftier intellect, and the lion-hearted 
 Fairfax acknowledged him his superior in the field. 
 Ireton and Lambert, the clear-headed lawyers, and able 
 and fearless commanders, worked like slaves at his 
 behest, and even the turbulent army quailed before his 
 master spirit. 
 
 It is amusing to hear the defenders^ Charles make 
 the sagacity of Cromwell, and the skilful manner in 
 which he used the instruments in his hands, evi- 
 dences of hypocrisy and guilt. They would have him 
 tell Harrison he was a dupe to believe in the second 
 advent of Christ, and forbid a free thinker to draw a 
 sword in battle ; — indeed, divulge every plan he laid 
 to thwart his enemies, and declare beforehand how he 
 designed to unravel and defeat their plots, in order to be 
 an honest man. In short, he must not employ a single 
 wicked person in his service, or make the least use of 
 his knowledge of other men's characters, to bend them 
 to his purpose, if he would escape the charge of hypoc- 
 risy. Every great and good design must be abandoned, 
 
1647.] HIS COURSE JUSTIFIED. 165 
 
 unless weak, or bigoted, or obstinate men, could be 
 made to understand and approve it. That is, a man 
 cannot resolve on anything beyond the capacity and 
 virtue of those with whom he is associated ; for, if he 
 does, he will be compelled to win them to his views by 
 such motives as are adapted to their characters, and 
 not by those which govern him. The whole argument 
 on this point, is reduced to the simple axiom: " To be a 
 diplomatist, is necessarily, to be a dishonest man." 
 
 Subtle scheming, which has for its ends self-aggrand- 
 izement at the sacrifice of justice and mercy, is base 
 and criminal; but adroit management, to secure har- 
 mony among discordant elements, and union among 
 prejudiced and selfish men, is neither. Thus to lull 
 parliament into security, while he sprung their own 
 plot upon them, and save the army, his friends, and the 
 kingdom, by binding the soldiers together in common 
 resistance to meditated oppression, were acts only of 
 an able statesman and upright leader. Whom did 
 he wrong by this successful plan? Not parliament, 
 certainly, for it had taken the lead in this war of exter- 
 mination — not the king, for he was no more a prisoner 
 with the army than with parliament — not the army, for 
 it was the victim of injustice and ingratitude — not the 
 kingdom, for this step saved both it and its defenders. 
 And yet Charles, who never stopped at any duplicity 
 ■ — would make a treaty at the same time with the 
 Scotch Covenanters and the Irish Papists — the Inde- 
 pendents and Presbyterians — break his word to parlia- 
 ment, and to the kingdom — caress Cromwell while 
 
1G0 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 plotting his destruction, and deluge the realm in blood, 
 solely for royal prerogative, and to obtain untrammeled 
 power, is declared by his friends to be a saint and a 
 martyr. They claim for him the possession of every 
 virtue, while they charge his enemies with hypocrisy 
 and treachery. Such palpable self-contradiction, argues 
 either a great obliquity of the moral sense, or a judg- 
 ment strangely perverted by that very prejudice they 
 charge on others. 
 
 Thus far, we cannot see how Cromwell could have 
 done otherwise than he did, without being untrue to 
 himself, to his friends, and the army, and unworthy of 
 the power he held. 
 
 THE ARMY MARCHES ON LONDON. 
 
 The letter, called a humble representation, which the 
 army sent to parliament, as it took up its line of march 
 for London, was despatched on the 14th of June. The 
 news of its advance, with Cromwell at its head, spread 
 consternation among the inhabitants. Some talked ol 
 resistance : — Parliament passed votes of condemnation ; 
 yet, still it drew slowly on. Concessions were made, 
 but they came too late. The pay, so long withheld, 
 was voted, and the army ordered to retire; yet, stea- 
 dily and sternly it continued to approach. It had 
 asked for pay, for justice, and its prayer been denied ; 
 and now, when parliament was ready to grant every 
 thing formerly demanded, it boldly accused eleven 
 
1647.] CHARGE OF CROMWELL. 167 
 
 members — the Presbyterian leaders — of high treason, 
 and insisted on their expulsion.* 
 
 But parliament could not consent to deal its own 
 death-blow, and declared that something more than 
 vague accusations were required. The ominous an- 
 swer to this was, that the first accusations against Laud 
 and Strafford, were also vague and general : " In these 
 cases," said the army, "you furnished the proofs after- 
 wards, so will we do now." Thus passed a fortnight 
 of terrible suspense — the army slowly advancing with 
 one stern demand in its mouth — the parliament fear- 
 ing, hesitating, and remonstrating. Its respectful an- 
 swers, sent back in three coaches, with outriders, were 
 of no avail. The very slowness with which the army 
 advanced, by protracting the suspense, deepened the 
 anxiety. 
 
 Between self-immolation, and destruction by Crom- 
 well's soldiers, the Presbyterian leaders were tossed, 
 like a wrecked mariner, from the rock to the sea, and 
 the sea to the rock. The mingled terror and indig- 
 nation which mastered parliament during this fearful 
 crisis, is powerfully depicted by Holies, one of those 
 very leaders whose expulsion was demanded. Speak- 
 ing of the army, he says, " They now thunder upon 
 us with remonstrances, declarations, letters, and mes- 
 
 * These were Holies, Sir Philip Stapleton, Sir William Waller, 
 Sir William Lewis, Sir John Clotworthy, Recorder Glynn, Anthony 
 Nichols, (old members,) and General Massey, Colonel Walter Long, 
 Colonel Edward Harely, and Sir John Maynard, (new members, who 
 had joined the old clique.) 
 
168 OLIVEE CROMWELL. 
 
 sages, every day ; making us vote and unvote, do and 
 undo; and when they have made us do some ugly 
 things, jeer us, and say our doing justifies their desiring 
 it. We feel as low as dirt : we take all our ordinances 
 to pieces, change and alter them according to their minds, 
 and, (what is worst of all,) expunge our declaration 
 against their mutinous petition, and cry peccavimus to 
 save a whipping." " But," he continues, " all would 
 not do. The parliament, thoroughly frightened, is as 
 bad as the army. Instead of a generous resistance to 
 perfidious servants, vindicating the honor of parlia- 
 ment, discharging the trust that rests upon them from 
 being ruined, and enslaved to a rebellious army, they 
 deliver up themselves and kingdom to the will of their 
 enemies, prostitute all to the lust of heady and violent 
 men, and suffer Mr. Cromwell to saddle, ride, switch, 
 and spur them, at his pleasure." True, Mr. Holies ; 
 and even you must confess that a more gallant or stal- 
 wart rider than this " Mr. Cromwell," never bestrode an 
 unruly and vicious beast. But this poor, divided parlia- 
 ment is not all that obeys his steady rein — he has a 
 team of twenty thousand resolute men in hand, that 
 needs no " switch or spur" to excite into action. With 
 this, he is driving full on London, and the crack of his 
 whip will soon make England ring. 
 
 But complaints, and votes, and resolutions, would not 
 do. The eleven members finding that their time had 
 come, voluntarily resigned their places ; or, in other 
 words, "asked leave of absence," which was granted 
 without any grief or hesitation ; and the army halted. 
 
1647.] MOB ENTERS PARLIAMENT. 169 
 
 There it lay, "coiled up round London and the par- 
 liament — advancing or receding," according as its de- 
 mands were refused or granted. 
 
 Thus matters proceeded till the latter end of July, 
 when the Holies declaration, proclaiming all who had 
 signed the army petition, enemies of the State, and dis- 
 turbers of the public peace, being expunged ; and the 
 militia ordinance placing the militia of London in the 
 hands of the Presbyterians being revoked, and the army 
 paid off, all seemed settled. 
 
 The Presbyterians and Independents were now of 
 about equal strength in the House, and mutual con- 
 cessions restored apparent harmony. But, at this 
 juncture, the former made a sudden and last rally. On 
 Monday, July 26th, a tremendous crowd went tumul- 
 tuously to the House of Parliament, demanding that 
 the militia ordinance should be restored, and the eleven 
 excluded members recalled. A sudden warlike feel- 
 ing had seized the militia, and they declared themselves 
 ready to face the enemy. The petition was taken up; 
 but the mob, becoming impatient of the debate, rushed 
 to the two halls of parliament, and endeavored to 
 force the doors. Kept back for awhile by the swords 
 of the members, they, at length, overcame all opposition, 
 and entered with their hats on, crying out, "Vote! vote!" 
 till the votes they demanded were actually passed, to- 
 gether with another, requesting the king to come imme- 
 diately to London. The only "No" in the House of 
 Commons was that uttered by Ludlow. 
 
 The next morning, parliament had no sooner met, 
 8 
 
170 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 than it adjourned over to Friday. In the meantime, 
 the two Speakers, and more than sixty of the members, 
 hastened to the army to report matters, and place 
 themselves under its protection. They were received 
 with enthusiastic shouts, and the columns quickly put 
 in motion. On Friday, the remaining members of 
 parliament, together with the doomed eleven, met, and 
 set about their defence with resolution and energy. 
 New Speakers w r ere elected, and forces ordered to 
 be raised without delay, and placed under Generals 
 Massey and Poyntz. The shops were shut — the drums 
 beat to arms, and groups of armed citizens were seen 
 hurrying to the place of rendezvous. Fortifications 
 were thrown up, barriers erected, and cannon planted 
 in the streets. As the parliament, with the train-bands 
 of London, formerly met the king's army, so now would 
 they meet Cromwell and his troops. For five days the 
 city shook with the bustling sound of preparation ; but 
 on the 3d of August, Southwark declared it would not 
 join in the resistance, and sent petitions to Fairfax for 
 protection. General Poyntz came upon the crowd 
 assembled around Guildhall, petitioning for peace, and 
 in his rage, laid about him with his sword, killing 
 several persons. Massey still resolved to make a stout 
 defence, and the soldiers maintained a bold attitude. 
 But as the scouts, one after another, came galloping in, 
 repeating that the army, in solid phalanx, was marching 
 straight on the city, and that the heads of the columns 
 were almost within striking distance, all courage de- 
 serted them, and they resolved to send a letter to the 
 
1647.] PARLIAMENT SUBDUED. 171 
 
 General, asking for peace. Resistance was now at an 
 end ; and on Friday, 6th of August, the army, " three 
 deep," Cromwell bringing up the rear, and the soldiers 
 wearing sprigs of laurel in their hats, marched silently 
 and sternly in, and the scene was ended. 
 
 The eleven members fled, never more to sit in parlia- 
 ment. A detachment of horse was quartered in Hyde 
 Park, and Cromwell's and Ireton's faithful followers 
 guarded every avenue to the House, as these com- 
 manders took their seats, and moved and carried, that 
 all which had been done by parliament, after the flight 
 of the members, was null and void. 
 
 Thus, peaceably, was consummated this sudden 
 revolution, which, for a time, threatened a bloody 
 termination. There had been alarm, anxiety and hesi- 
 tation among all, even officers of the army, but every- 
 thing had resulted as Cromwell planned. The flight of 
 the members was his suggestion, and their reception by 
 the army, the signal he had resolved upon, to commence 
 the march on London. 
 
 The triumph of the Independents was now complete, 
 and they looked upon Cromwell as the author of it. 
 This fixed him deeply in the affections of all who 
 claimed liberty of conscience, however opposed their 
 own creeds might be to his. 
 
 From this moment, the revolution assumed a new 
 and more dangerous character. The long and despe- 
 rate struggle between the two parties, now closed, had 
 been one of principle — a struggle to decide whether men 
 were to be fettered by any religious forms, or to adopt 
 
172 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 whatsoever belief pleased them best. The old restraints 
 were at once taken off from the human mind, and it 
 was allowed to go forth untrammeled and free. The 
 effect of this sudden emancipation, was at first bewilder- 
 ing. To many, it was like blotting out God from the 
 universe, and enthroning every man on the seat of 
 supreme judgment. The most extravagant notions — 
 even those of the levellers, who believed in the equaliza- 
 tion of property, were tolerated. In short, the torrent 
 of popular feeling was unbound, and whether it would, 
 in its vast and sweeping flow, only manure, like the 
 floods of the Nile, the earth for a future growth, or 
 leave a bleak and barren desert in its track, was a prob- 
 lem from which even Cromwell must have turned with 
 alarm. England was free — formalism in religion, and 
 feudalism in State, were dead or dying ; and a boundless 
 prospect opened before all. A republic, with all its un- 
 tamed energies, soaring hope, and rash confidence, was 
 now inevitable. Reverence for the king was gone 
 — parliament stood shorn of its power, and it therefore 
 became an anxious question with those who had 
 brought about this state of things, what the end would 
 be. 
 
 England without a ruler seemed now a probable 
 event ; and the after course of Cromwell with the unfor- 
 tunate Charles, evidently grows out of the difficulties 
 this probability suggests. He had humbled the Pres- 
 byterians, and the people shouted his praise. He had 
 established freedom, but where was it to end. His 
 victory alarmed him more than the opposition of his 
 
1647.] HIS DANGEROUS POSITION. 173 
 
 enemies. He had thrown the reins on the necks 
 of the people, bidding them guide themselves ; but 
 whither would they guide the State ? He began to com- 
 prehend the fact, that freedom is progressive, and to 
 fear that power, once bestowed on the people, was irre- 
 claimable. He might then well pause and survey the 
 prospect around him. First, he had taken up arms 
 against the king, solely to bring nim to terms with his 
 parliament. Unable to effect this, he had broken his 
 armies into pieces, and finally seized his person. In 
 the meantime, parliament had passed, from its fear of 
 the king, to alarm at the disorganizing spirit abroad, 
 and the large liberty demanded, tending, as it thought, 
 to downright anarchy ; and hence, began to emulate 
 Charles in the religious oppression of his subjects. Per- 
 ceiving this, Cromwell saw that he must either retire 
 and give over the struggle as hopeless, and see the 
 fabric he had helped to rear, at the cost of so much 
 blood, levelled with the ground, or march his army on 
 parliament. Forced, as a man of honor and conscience, 
 to the latter course, by the violence of his enemies, just 
 as he had been first forced into arms by the violence of 
 the king, he gave a mortal blow to the highest legisla- 
 tive body of the land. As he saw it expire, however, 
 he looked into the blackness that lay beyond its burial 
 place. A disordered realm, without a king or govern- 
 ment that could be trusted, was the spectacle that 
 met his anxious gaze. In this crisis, therefore, he 
 turned with a last effort to Charles, and strove man-_ 
 fully to secure the liberty and permanent peace of the 
 
174 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 kingdom, and at the same time provide it with a legiti- 
 mate sovereign. 
 
 Previous to the movement of the army on London, 
 negotiations had been opened with Charles, and pro- 
 posals far more favorable than those offered him at 
 Newcastle, been submitted. But unwilling to cast 
 himself with the republicans, just on the eve of a 
 struggle between them and parliament ; and also hoping, 
 in the crash that must follow, to obtain, somehow, more 
 favorable terms for himself, he would come to no defi- 
 nite understanding. 
 
 In the meantime, he asked an interview with his 
 children ; and the Dukes of York and Gloucester, aged, 
 the one fourteen, and the other seven, and the Princess 
 Elizabeth, twelve years of age, met him at Maidstone, 
 and passed two days with him at Eversham. Cromwell 
 was present at the meeting, and the emotions exhibit- 
 ed by the unhappy Charles, completely overcame his 
 parental heart. He is said to have shed tears, and de- 
 clared that his views were entirely changed as to the 
 goodness of the king. 
 
 This is made the ground of another charge of hy- 
 pocrisy against him. His tears, and expressions of 
 sympathy, are both declared to have been feigned, and 
 intended only for effect. It is curious to observe the 
 folly and contradictions into which men run, when 
 their judgments are led astray by their feelings. If, 
 with the boldness and daring which characterized him, 
 he faces down the king and government, he is pro- 
 nounced a haughty and unfeeling tyrant, governed only 
 
 
1648.] HIS SLANDERERS. 175 
 
 by lawless ambition. If he throws a cushion at Lud- 
 low's head, while discussing matters of State ; or daubs 
 Marten's face with the ink he had used in signing the 
 death-warrant of Charles, he is called a brute, who has 
 not even the refinement to conceal his brutality. To- 
 day, a rough, unhewn man, who cannot make a reputable 
 speech; to-morrow, so eloquent and overmastering that 
 he convinces even his enemies, and disarms hatred 
 itself; now a coarse buffoon, and presto, the most fin- 
 ished dissembler and dark-minded knave that ever 
 outwitted friends and foes : crying over the meeting of 
 the king with his children, for effect, when but few 
 were present to witness it ; yet taking pains to insult his 
 dead body before the whole world, as if on purpose to 
 shock its sensibilities — he, according to his prejudiced 
 biographers, is the roughest and smoothest, the boldest 
 and trickiest, the most childish and the sternest man 
 that ever lived. Assuming all shapes — possessed of all 
 characters; a Proteus, a chamelion — an everything, a 
 nothing; he cannot look, without intending to deceive; 
 or speak a word on religion or politics, without playing 
 the hypocrite. Do what he will — say what he will, it is 
 all the same. His motives impugned — his conduct 
 assailed ; every good act denied, or explained away ;. 
 and every slander believed ; no man ever yet suffered 
 so at the hand of history ; and yet, colossus-like, he rises 
 higher and higher, with each succeeding generation. 
 
 The truth is, Cromwell, though relentless as doom, in 
 purpose, possessed a heart overflowing with kindness 
 to his friends, and especially to his family. His private 
 
176 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 letters prove this beyond doubt or cavil: and all the 
 parent was moved in him, when he saw those children 
 clinging to the neck of their royal father, and that 
 father forgetting he w%s a king and a prisoner, in the 
 joy of once more straining to his breast the offspring of 
 his happier days. 
 
 Hitherto, he had seen him only as an enemy of 
 liberty, the church, and the people — read his char- 
 acter in the haughty face that frowned on parliament, 
 when he came to seize the five members ; and thought of 
 him as the heartless tyrant, who would wade through 
 the blood of his. subjects to a despotic throne. This 
 burst of tenderness was a new development; and 
 appealing, as it did, to his own warm heart, and shooting 
 so directly and suddenly across his deep-rooted prejudi- 
 ces, and long • cherished hate, produced a wonderful 
 change in his views, and a strong revulsion of feeling in 
 favor of the unhappy monarch. Such a heart, he 
 thought, could not be irreclaimably bad, and there must 
 still be foothold for reason and appeal. 
 
 This, doubtless, made him more open and resolute in 
 his attempts to settle the distracted government on a 
 fair and permanent- basis, by placing Charles on the 
 throne, while he at the same time so bound him by 
 restrictions, and checked him by powers created for 
 purpose, that he could not play the despot. 
 
 Historians cannot, agree in the motives which actu- 
 ated Cromwell in the negotiations which followed. 
 Some say he never was serious in his protestations 
 but played the hypocrite throughout : others, who can- 
 
1G47.] REASONS FOR HIS CONDUCT. 177 
 
 not see what he was to gain in this* assert that he was 
 cautiously feeling his way ; and intent only on his own 
 aggrandizement, was resolved to be governed entirely 
 by circumstances. Others still, not content with 
 making him a hypocrite, a liar, and an ambitious man, 
 would fain have us believe him a Judas, who could be 
 bought and sold for " thirty pieces of silver •" and de- 
 clare that he was desirous simply to make a good bar- 
 gain for himself and personal friends; and hence, 
 demanded of the king, as a reward for placing him on 
 the throne, the title of Earl of Essex, the order of the 
 garter, and the appointment of commander-in-chief of 
 the army. This man, who had unlimited control over 
 the best-disciplined, and most terrible army, that 
 ever trod a battle-field — with power to make and 
 unmake parliaments ; nay, held the throne in his firm 
 grasp — incurred the hate and suspicion of that very 
 army, and seriously endangered his own position, to 
 obtain a command which he could have without the 
 king, and a title he cared not a farthing for. The most 
 extraordinary and senseless reasons for his conduct are 
 preferred to the plain and simple one, that he was en- 
 deavoring to secure both the peace and liberty of the 
 commonwealth at whatever sacrifice to himself. 
 
 After the breaking up of parliament, the army re- 
 turned to Putney, and the king was placed in Hampton 
 Court, near by. During the months of August and 
 September, the utmost excitement prevailed both in the 
 parliament and the army. How should the settlement 
 of the nation be effected ? was the great question ; and 
 8* 
 
178 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Cromwell, as stated above, seemed to think it could be 
 best done by fettering the king's powers, so that he could 
 not endanger the liberty of the realm ; and then give 
 him to the people as their legitimate sovereign. To 
 this end, he became intimate in the king's family. He 
 presented his wife, and Mrs. Ireton, (his daughter 
 Bridget married in January, this year,) and Mrs. Whalley, 
 his cousin, at court, whom the king received with great 
 honors. This sudden change in Cromwell's conduct, 
 could not but be observed and commented upon. He, 
 who, but a few months since was seeking the life of 
 Charles on the battle-field, was now seen walking in 
 friendly intercourse with him in the park. Surprise 
 first, and suspicion afterwards, were openly expressed in 
 the city, and in the army. Ardent republicans, religious 
 enthusiasts, and radicals of all sorts, were shocked and 
 disgusted at this apparently familiar footing of their leader 
 with the tyrant. Lilburn, who had left his regiment, 
 because he could not learn to be obedient ; and was 
 now prisoner in the tower, sent there by the lords, for 
 his seditious writings ; at first warned Cromwell as a 
 friend, afterwards threatened, and finally denounced 
 him, to the agitators. 
 
 The army, as observed, was a sort of republican 
 government by itself, and boldly discussed all questions 
 of State, and especially the conduct of their leader. 
 At length, suspecting their court of agitators (or, 
 rather, adjutators)? to be more faithful to the officers 
 than to themselves, the soldiers chose new ones to watch 
 
1647.] HIS DANGER. 179 
 
 ►the latter ; and anarchy was gradually creeping into all 
 departments. 
 
 The rationalists who submitted to no authority but 
 that of reason ; the levellers who aimed at an entire 
 subversion of royalty, nobility, and all government but 
 that based on equal rights to every citizen, were 
 loud in their denunciations of Cromwell and Ire ton. 
 The former began to feel the peril of his position, and 
 urged vehemently on the king the conditions he pro- 
 posed ; conditions, he said, so much preferable to those 
 which the parliament offered. Misled by Ashburnham, 
 Charles refused, although he still made large promises 
 to Cromwell ; and believing that he was now indis- 
 pensable to one or the other party, said to his friends : 
 " I can turn the scale which way I please ; and that 
 party must sink which I abandon." " Sire," replied 
 Berkley, " a cause so near lost was never recovered on 
 easier terms." Cromwell, finding that his conduct was 
 fast losing him the confidence of the army, was less 
 frequent in his interviews with Charles : but that his 
 conduct might not awaken suspicion of his integrity, 
 he frankly told the reason ; adding : " If I am an honest 
 man, I have done enough to convince his majesty of 
 the sincerity of my intentions ; if not, nothing will 
 suffice." 
 
 But the aspect of things in the army grew, every day, 
 more threatening. Never was Cromwell in such dan- 
 ger before. The affection which the soldiers bore 
 him nothing but his own desertion could extinguish; 
 and this they now more than mistrusted. Societies 
 
180 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 were formed among them, in which his conduct was. 
 openly discussed. Still bent on saving the kingdom, 
 he braved all, determined to keep his promise with 
 the king, until released by the treachery of the latter. 
 But he was treading on the verge of a volcano ; and it 
 behooved him to beware of his steps. True, his emissa- 
 ries and spies were everywhere; but nothing could resist 
 the tide of feeling that was setting so strongly against 
 him. 
 
 To us, Cromwell, amid the perils which now sur- 
 rounded him, instead of being a heartless dissembler, 
 seems a true patriot, rising in moral grandeur as his dan- 
 ger increases. Sustained by his inflexible, fearless, and 
 gifted son-in-law.Ireton, he determined to hazard every- 
 thing personal to secure that peace which, if the present 
 attempt failed to obtain, he knew not where to look for. 
 
 Instead of aiming at his own elevation — (to secure 
 which he had only to yield to the wishes of the army) — 
 he appears to us nobly breasting the tide of events that 
 is bearing him on to certain power; and struggling 
 against his fate. The army was all-powerful and radi- 
 cal enough, to meet the wishes of the most daring usur- 
 per ; yet, instead of wielding it for his own ambition, he 
 risked his influence over it for the common welfare, and 
 to end a strife which constantly assumed a more alarming 
 character. So sacred did he esteem his promise given 
 to the king, that he adhered to him, even when open 
 mutiny had broken out in the troops. On the 9th of 
 October, five regiments of horse, through their adju- 
 tators, drew up a paper, called "The Case of the 
 
1647.] the king's treachery. 181 
 
 Army ;" which, nine days after, was presented to Fair- 
 fax. On the first of November, another paper appeared, 
 sent out by sixteen regiments ; in which their officers 
 were declared traitors to the cause of the people, and 
 the latter called upon to rise and turn the parliament 
 out of doors : in short, it was demanded that England 
 should at once become a republic, with the supreme 
 power vested in a House of Commons chosen by the 
 suffrages of the whole nation. These papers were sup- 
 pressed by order of parliament; but the disaffection 
 continued to spread. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE KING'S TREACHERY. 
 
 In this crisis of Cromwell's fate, Providence seems to 
 have interposed for his rescue ; and liberating him from 
 his obligations to the king, compelled him to turn, 
 once more, to the army. Charles, who had all the while 
 been playing a double game with him, (a duplicity 
 scarce ever commented upon,) in an evil hour to him- 
 self, confessed his treachery, in a private letter to his 
 wife. One of Oliver's spies, whom he kept near the 
 royal person ; sent him word one day, that a man would 
 reach the Blue Boar, in Holborn, that night, on his way 
 to Dover, with a letter disclosing the monarch's secret 
 designs. The man would come there, with a saddle on 
 his head, in the lining of which the letter was sewed up. 
 Cromwell and Ireton immediately disguised themselves 
 as common soldiers, and proceeded to the tavern ; where, 
 calling for some beer, they sat down, while a trusty 
 
182 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 servant kept watch at the door. At the hour designated, 
 the man appeared, with the saddle on his head. Sudden- 
 ly drawing their swords, they rushed upon him, and seiz- 
 ing the saddle, ripped it open. Finding the letter, they 
 carefully closed up the saddle again ; and telling the 
 man, who was ignorant of the trust committed to him, 
 that he was an honest fellow, let him go. 
 
 These two Puritan leaders, Cromwell and Ireton, in 
 the garb of private soldiers, at an humble inn, bending 
 together over, that letter of the king, must have pre- 
 sented a picture worthy the study of an artist. How 
 those massive features blazed up, as, perusing the evi- 
 dence of his monarch's insincerity in his own confes- 
 sions — declaring that he preferred to treat with the Scot- 
 tish Presbyterians, rather than the army, but, should lean 
 to whichever side appeared the strongest ; he at length, 
 came to the following sentence — " For the rest, I alone 
 understand my position : be entirely easy as to the con- 
 cessions I may grant them. When the time comes I shall 
 know how to deal with the rogues ; and, instead of a 
 silken garter, I will fit them with a hempen halter."* 
 One may well imagine the fixed, unalterable look, with 
 which Oliver gazed on his fearless son-in-law, as he 
 finished reading, and the terrible resolution which 
 sprung to the lips of the latter. They were betrayed 
 — shamefully betrayed by the monarch they were risk- 
 ing all to reinstate in power. 
 
 But painful as the discovery was, it at once relieved 
 Cromwell from his state of extreme perplexity. Turn- 
 
 * Vide British Statesmen, page 467, Guizot and others. 
 
1647.] the king's flight. 183 
 
 ing, at once, from the trustless monarch, and from all 
 hopes of saving the distracted kingdom through him, 
 he boldly threw himself into the wild current he had 
 hitherto vainly endeavored to stem. On his good sword, 
 and the army not yet irretrievably, lost to him, he must 
 now rely; and assume the power which his enemies forc- 
 ed upon him. An immediate change came over the 
 king's prospects — dark hints reached him of intended 
 assassination, and warnings to flee his captors. 
 
 In the meantime, Cromwell roused himself to meet 
 the perils which environed him. A council had been 
 called in the army, to discuss whether it were best 
 to dispense with monarchy altogether. Being adjourn- 
 ed to the next week, November 6th, he appeared in 
 its midst; and abruptly cutting short all debate, de- 
 clared that every officer should immediately return to 
 the head of his regiment ; and instead of a general 
 meeting, which had been agreed on, there should be 
 three special meetings in the chief divisions of the 
 army. A council was to sit in the interval, and the 
 management of affairs be entrusted entirely to Fairfax 
 and parliament. 
 
 In the meantime, Charles, filled with alarm at the 
 new aspect matters had assumed about him, and the 
 secret warnings he received, resolved to flee. He had 
 sent a woman, a Mrs. Whorewood, with £500, to con- 
 sult a celebrated astrologer of London, respecting the 
 course he should adopt. But his fears outran his super- 
 stitious belief; and, without waiting the answer of the 
 astrologer, he, on the night of the 11th of November, 
 
184 O L I . E II C It MWELL. 
 
 departed with a single valet-de-chambre. Stealing 
 down a back staircase, he entered the park, bordered by 
 an extensive forest, where Ashburnham and Berkley 
 were waiting for him with fleet horses. Hastily mount- 
 ing, the four fugitives plunged into the woods, and sped 
 off, they scarce knew whither. Not a star was visi- 
 ble — dark and angry clouds swept the heavens — the 
 rain fell in torrents : and drenched and weary, Charles 
 and his companions wandered through the mazes of the 
 forest, bewildered and lost. At day-break, however, 
 they regained the road ; and reaching Sutton, took 
 fresh horses, and continued their flight towards South- 
 ampton. After much hesitation respecting the course 
 they should pursue, they, at length, resolved to take 
 refuge in the Isle of Wight, over which Robert Ham- 
 mond, a colonel in the infantry, presided as governor. 
 But, no sooner was Charles within the castle gates, 
 than his fears returned ; and, exclaiming to Ashburn- 
 ham, " Oh ! John, John, thou hast undone me !" talked 
 up and down his apartment in uncontrollable anguish. 
 It was too late, however, to retrace his steps. At 
 length, he became more composed, and the next 
 morning seemed quite satisfied with the asylum he had 
 chosen. 
 
 Cromwell was the first to know of his flight, and im- 
 mediately advised parliament of it. Whether he was 
 privy to it or not, the stern Puritan, Whalley, who was 
 the king's jailor, has not informed us. Nor is it known 
 whether the anonymous letters which so worked upon 
 his fears, came from his friends, or were sent at the 
 
1648.] QUELLS THE MUTINY. 185 
 
 instigation of Oliver, to frighten him into an escape. 
 There may have been many enthusiastic republicans, 
 who, clinging to their leader in unbroken confidence and 
 . ove, and believing him, under a mistaken sense of duty, 
 to be endangering the liberty and safety of the kingdom, 
 Dy his adherence to the faithless monarch ; endeavored, 
 in this way, to separate them. The most probable sup- 
 position, however, is that Cromwell, the moment he 
 discovered the insincerity of the king, and at the same 
 time saw the imminent peril resulting from their con- 
 nexion, resolved to get rid of him. Personal fear, he 
 knew, would force him to flee ; and believing that France 
 would be chosen as the most secure retreat, he expected 
 to release himself of so troublesome a burden, and at 
 the same time prevent his falling into the hands of 
 parliament. 
 
 Hammond immediately reported the arrival of Charles 
 to parliament and the army. 
 
 CROMWELL QUELLS THE MUTINY. 
 
 Having thus disposed of his treacherous sovereign, 
 Cromwell turned to the subjugation of his mutinous 
 army. Acting with that decision which so often dis- 
 comfitted his enemies, he proceeded to Ware, in 
 Hertfordshire, where the first of the three appointed 
 meetings, was to take place. Only seven regiments, 
 and those which had seemed least mutinous, had been 
 summoned to it ; but nine were there, drawn up on the 
 common. Two, one of horse, and one of foot — the 
 
186 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 most tumultuous in the whole army — had come of their 
 own accord, to resist the authority of their leaders. 
 The latter regiment had expelled all its officers, above 
 the rank of lieutenant, except one captain, because they 
 were too favorable to the generals. Every soldier 
 wore a paper, called " The Agreement of the People" in 
 his hat, on which was inscribed, " Liberty to England" 
 — " Soldier's Rights." As they thus stood in disorderly 
 array, on the open field ; Rainsborough, who fought so 
 gallantly at Bristol, Ewer, Scott, and John Lilburn 
 fresh from the Tower, were seen galloping from com- 
 pany to company, in the highest excitement, brandish- 
 ing their swords, and exhorting the soldiers to stand firm 
 for their liberty and that of their country. They were 
 answered by shouts that ever and anon rocked the 
 plain. In the midst of this strange scene, Fairfax and 
 Cromwell, surrounded by their officers, slowly advanc- 
 ed on the field. They first approached the seven less 
 refractory regiments, and read to them a calm remon- 
 strance against their unlawful proceedings. They 
 pointed out the danger to which they subjected both 
 themselves and their country — reminded them of 
 the affection their generals had hitherto manifested; 
 and promising to redress all their grievances, besought 
 them to return to their duty. When the officers had 
 finished reading the paper, the soldiers sent up a loud 
 shout of joy, and promised to return immediately to 
 their obedience. Cromwell and Fairfax then rode 
 towards the two regiments of open mutineers. One, 
 that of Harrison, followed the example of the other 
 
1647.] aUELLS THE MUTINY. 187 
 
 seven, but Lilburn's was only the more excited and 
 frantic. The soldiers interrupted Fairfax in the midst 
 of his address, with shouts of " No king — no coalition — 
 equal rights !" In a moment Cromwell's passions were 
 in a blaze, and advancing, with a long, rapid stride, close 
 to the ranks, he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, " Take 
 that paper from your hats!' 3 They refusing to obey, 
 he dashed into their midst, and seizing the chief muti- 
 neer by the collar, dragged him forth in presence of all, 
 and at the same time ordered his officers to arrest four- 
 teen of the other ringleaders. Many a hand sought the 
 hilt of its sword and fierce men grasped their fire-locks. 
 But Lilburn, and Rainsborough, and the other officers, 
 knew too well the man with whom they had to do, to 
 attempt an interference. They had too often seen, on 
 the battle-field, the terrible expression which now man- 
 tled his features, to doubt its meaning ; and they knew 
 it would be safer to meet the roused lion, than him in 
 that mood. They could rush all steadily upon a stand of 
 level pikes, but not on the breast of that single man, in 
 that moment of wrath and fierce determination. 
 
 Instantly turning to Fairfax, Cromwell requested that 
 the officers should be assembled; and a drum-head 
 court-martial was ordered on the spot — and there, right 
 in front of the rebellious regiment, those ringleaders 
 were tried, and three condemned. One, as an example, 
 was sentenced to be shot, and lots were cast to deter- 
 mine which it should be. The lot fell on a furious 
 soldier named Arnell. A file of men were immediately 
 called out to execute the sentence. At the word 
 
188 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 "Fire /" the poor wretch fell, pierced with balls ; and his 
 companions, who, an hour before, had heard his shout 
 of defiance ring the loudest, looked on aghast, and 
 quailed before their resolute leader. 
 
 This quelled the mutiny for the time, and a vote of 
 thanks was tendered Cromwell by the House of Com- 
 mons. But this high-handed summary act, which 
 completely stunned the army, soon aroused anger in 
 the fanatical friends of the condemned, who were still 
 in prison. They were called by some the " chosen of 
 the Lord ;" and one preacher from the country came to 
 London on purpose to declare that God had forsaken 
 the generals, for daring to imprison his saints. 
 
 The soldiers were afraid to meet again the torrent of 
 their leader's wrath ; but many officers expostulated with 
 him, declaring that they would not have a king, but 
 were bent on a republic, and if necessary, would divide 
 the army for that purpose. He answered them evasive- 
 ly, well aware that though he had quelled the anarchy 
 that threatened to disrupt the army, and re-established 
 his supremacy there ; careful management was neces- 
 sary to keep what he had gained, 
 
 At length, a great meeting was called at he ad- quarters. 
 It met December 22d, and ten hours were spent in 
 prayer and mutual confessions. The mutinous officers 
 confessed their wrong — the soldiers expressed repent- 
 ance for their deeds ; and Cromwell, who had adopted a 
 tone of great conciliation, since the suppression of the 
 mutiny, was restored to full confidence. The prisoners 
 were set at liberty — the degraded officers restored to 
 
1647.] KING TREATS WITH THE SCOTS. 189 
 
 their rank ; — and with solemn vows to God to act in fu- 
 ture for the good of their country, that strangely enthu- 
 siastic and patriotic multitude dispersed. 
 
 At the same time, messengers arrived from the king, 
 congratulating the generals on their victory, and re- 
 minding them of their promise to advance his interest. 
 The former, however, did not stop long to negotiate — 
 the scorn and indignation that gathered on the brows of 
 Cromwell and Ireton, showed them that their master 
 had nothing to expect in that quarter. 
 
 Eight days previous to this event, the House of Com- 
 mons had voted that four propositions should be laid 
 before the king, on the acceptance of which he might 
 treat personally with parliament. First, he was to give 
 the control of all the military and naval force to parlia- 
 ment for twenty years, and longer, if circumstances 
 required. Second, to revoke all the proclamations he 
 had made against it, in which its acts were declared 
 illegal. Third ; annul the peerages he had created since 
 the commencement of the war ; and lastly, allow parlia- 
 ment to control its own sittings. 
 
 The Scotch commissioners no sooner heard of this 
 movement, than they sent messengers to Charles, urging 
 him not to accept the terms ; as they would offer far 
 better. They and the commissioners from parliament, 
 reached the Isle of Wight nearly at the same time ; and 
 began to push their respective claims. In two days, 
 Charles had concluded a treaty with the Scotch ; the 
 chief stipulations in which were, that he should estab- 
 lish the Presbyterian Church in England for three 
 
190 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 years, and then leave the final settlement of its gov- 
 ernment to parliament and the Assembly of Divines. 
 In consideration of these concessions, a Scotch army 
 was to be raised, in conjunction with one in Ireland, 
 and place him on the throne. At the first opportunity, 
 he was to escape from the island, and hasten to Scotland 
 to wait the decisive moment. 
 
 When the baffled commissioners of parliament return- 
 ed, and made their report, the deepest indignation pre- 
 vailed. A member, Thomas Wroth arose and said : 
 " Mr. Speaker, Bedlam was appointed for madmen, and 
 Tophet for kings ; but our kings have, of late carried 
 themselves as if they were fit for no place but Bedlam : I 
 propose we lay the king by, and settle the kingdom with- 
 out him, I care not what form of government you set 
 up ; so it be not by kings or devils." This bold speech 
 was followed by one equally so from Ireton. He declar- 
 ed, that allegiance of the people could be procured only 
 on the promise of protection ; and as the king had denied 
 the latter, they must refuse the former. 
 
 The revolution had progressed : men had passed 
 from the discussion of great constitutional questions to 
 simple assertions of their own rights as men. Kingship 
 could now be treated contemptuously without exciting 
 horror. The Presbyterians were alarmed; and en- 
 deavored to arrest these dangerous feelings. The blow 
 now planned struck at the very root of English govern- 
 ment : and if it succeeded, everything would be adrift, 
 and the strongest win. They, therefore, strenuously 
 opposed the motion neither to send or receive any more 
 
1648.] THE KING LAID ASIDE. 191 
 
 messages from the king, and settle the government with- 
 out him. 
 
 The debate grew warm, when Cromwell arose and 
 said it was "high time to answer the public expectation — 
 that they were able and resolved to govern and defend 
 the kingdom, by their own power, and teach the people 
 they had nothing to hope from a man whose heart God 
 had hardened in obstinacy. Do not," he continued, 
 " let the army think themselves betrayed to the rage and 
 malice of an irreconcilable enemy, whom they have 
 subdued for your sake; and from whom they would 
 receive, as a reward, revenge and punishment. Do not 
 drive them to despair ; lest they seek safety by other 
 means than adhering to you, who will not stick to 
 yourselves. How destructive such a resolution in 
 them will be to you all, "(laying his hand on his sword-^ 
 hilt,) " / tremble to think ; and leave you to judge." 
 The language and the movement were both significant ; 
 and no farther debate was attempted. The motion to 
 proceed to the settlement of the kingdom without the 
 king, was carried by a large majority, and sent to the 
 upper House. Here, too, after a short struggle, it pass- 
 ed ; and parliament stood before the world as the sove- 
 reign power of England. 
 
 This summary disposition of the throne and royal pre- 
 rogative, filled the adherents of the king with consterna- 
 tion and rage ; and countless plots were laid to excite a 
 general insurrection. Even in the Isle of Wight, the 
 drum was beat, and the citizens called to arms, to defend 
 their sovereign. All over the country — in Scotland, 
 
192 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Ireland and Wales, there were symptoms of a general 
 rising in his favor. The mask was off, and all saw 
 that the complete overthrow of royalty was resolved 
 upon. In the midst of the gathering storm, Cromwell 
 stood calm and self-collected, though not without deep 
 anxiety. The power he had so long wielded secretly 
 must now be exerted openly. Still cautious, however, 
 and waiting for the hour to strike, he watched, with a 
 vigilance nothing could elude, the disturbed elements 
 about him. Measures were set on foot to thwart the 
 enemies of parliament, and acts passed, forbidding all 
 who had fought for the king to reside within twenty 
 miles of London. Suspected justices of the peace were 
 removed, and the presses of the "malignants" stopped. 
 The army once more marched through London ; and 
 men everywhere saw that the tremendous power which 
 had gathered under the hand of Cromwell, was to be 
 exerted to the uttermost. 
 
 Such scenes ushered in the memorable year of 1618. 
 While Oliver thus stood and felt the heaving of the 
 earthquake beneath him, he resolved to call together the 
 religious leaders of the Presbyterians and Independents, 
 to see if he could effect a reconciliation. They met at 
 his house, but divided by religious dogmas, could come 
 to no agreement. He then summoned to him the politi- 
 cal leaders, such as Vane, Haselrig, Hutchinson, Lud- 
 low, and others more moderate. He told them, that as 
 government now rested on their shoulders, it became 
 them to decide what form should be adopted. Some de- 
 clared for a republic — some for a mixed monarchy ; and 
 
1648.] A MOB IN LONDON. 193 
 
 at length Ludlow asked Cromwell what his views were. 
 The latter evaded a direct answer ; but being hard press- 
 ed seized a cushion, and flinging it at Ludlow's head, hur- 
 ried out of the room. As he left, Ludlow hurled it back ; 
 which, says the latter, "made him hasten down stairs 
 faster than he desired." Such practical jesting in the 
 midst of deliberations on no less a question than the sal- 
 vation of a kingdom, seems strangely at war with Crom- 
 well's character. But they err greviously, who suppose 
 it was a mere ebulition of humor — the effervescence of 
 a careless indifferent state of mind. It was either the im- 
 pulsive movement of a spirit struggling to throw off the 
 burden that weighed it down ; or, what is more probable, 
 a summary way of breaking up a council who were urg- 
 ing him too far, and whose continued deliberations could 
 be of no avail. He had fathomed their hearts and ascer- 
 tained their wishes, and now he could mature his own 
 plans with more precision. 
 
 In the meantime, as spring advanced, incipient in- 
 surrections were announced in the North, and even in 
 counties bordering on London. At length, in the begin- 
 ning of April, a mob of the city came in collision with 
 the militia, and a sharp conflict ensued. The former, 
 reinforced by the watermen and others, drove the mili- 
 tary before them — took two of the gates of the city, and 
 seizing a magazine of arms, passed through the streets, 
 shouting " God and King Charles !" A council of war 
 was called, and it was proposed that the two regiments 
 quartered in London should attack the mob. The ma- 
 jority voted against the measure, on the ground that the 
 9 
 
194 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 force was insufficient. But Cromwell, with his usual 
 promptness and daring, declared that the troops should 
 immediately be ordered out; and — Fairfax coinciding 
 with him — in a few minutes the tramp of the advancing 
 squadrons was heard. In two hours the emeute was 
 over, and peace restored. But the flames were only 
 smothered, not extinguished. 
 
 While these things were passing at home, Scotland, 
 in order to carry out its plan for the reinstatement of 
 Charles on the throne, was endeavoring to raise an army 
 of forty thousand men. Ireland, too, began to move ; and 
 the royalists in England taking courage, a formidable 
 resistance seemed about to be organized. 
 
 In the midst of these alarming rumors without, the 
 common-council of London hearing that the army had 
 formed a plan, the moment the kingdom was invaded, 
 to march into the city and make extraordinary levies of 
 men and money ; petitioned parliament that it should be 
 withdrawn still farther from the walls — which was 
 granted. 
 
 These disorders and dangers frightened the more 
 timid and the more conservative ; and leaving the Inde- 
 pendents, they went over to the Presbyterians, so that 
 the latter had the balance of power again in their hands. 
 A motion was made and carried, that the form of gov- 
 ernment should not be altered, and that the proposals 
 made to the king might be the basis on which to settle 
 the affairs of the nation. Cromwell, who had in vain 
 endeavored to arrest this movement, turned once more 
 to his army ; and calling a council of war, proposed to 
 
1648.] HIS SICKNESS. 195 
 
 march on the parliament and overthrow it at the pike's 
 point. Failing to animate his officers with his bold 
 spirit, he resolved to leave the scene of political in- 
 trigue, and with his army, win in the field, by his vic- 
 tories, that strength he was losing in the State. 
 
 But before we enter upon the stirring history of the 
 second civil war, we would mention two or three events 
 which -occurred in the midst of the political excitement 
 that ushered in the campaign of 1648. 
 
 In January, we find Cromwell negociated a marriage 
 contract for his son Richard, with the daughter of 
 Richard, Mayor of Hursley, Hants, near Winchester: 
 which, after much delay, was finally brought to a satis- 
 factory termination. In March, the House of Com- 
 mons took up the grant which had been made to him 
 of the lands of the Marquis of Winchester and Wor- 
 cester. It seems the act had never been carried out — 
 the Winchester estate not being available : — and now his 
 friends renewed the subject, and obtained a settlement 
 of £ 1,680 per annum, on him and his heirs, from the 
 estate of the Earl of Worcester. 
 
 While this was under discussion, Cromwell lay dan- 
 gerously sick, in London. This may account for the 
 partial success gained by his enemies during the 
 spring. W'hile the master-spirit dreaded by all was 
 crushed under disease, they could rally with renewed 
 courage and confidence ; and met no longer at every 
 turn by that vigilant eye and resolute arm, work with 
 more success. Besides, his friends might assume an 
 attitude less bold, as he, without whom they could 
 
196 OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 do nothing, was struggling for life. The manner in 
 which he bore this sickness, and the spirit he brought 
 out of it, may be gathered from his letter to Fair- 
 fax, on his recovery. He says — " It hath pleased God 
 to raise me out of a dangerous sickness; and I do 
 most willingly acknowledge, that the Lord hath, in 
 this visitation, exercised the bowels of a father to- 
 wards me. I received in myself the sentence of death, 
 that I might learn to trust in Him that raiseth the 
 dead, and have no confidence in the flesh. It is a 
 blessed thing to die daily ; for what is there in this 
 world to be accounted of? The best men according 
 to the flesh, and things, are lighter than vanity. I 
 found this only good — to love the Lord, and his poor, 
 despised people; to do for them, and to be ready to 
 suffer with them ; and he that is found worthy of this, 
 hath obtained a great favor from the Lord ; and he 
 that is established in this, shall (being confirmed to 
 Christ, and the rest of the Body) participate in the 
 glory of a resurrection which will answer all."* 
 
 A fortnight after the date of this letter, he wrote 
 to the Committee of the two Houses, on the affairs 
 of Ireland — offering one thousand pounds, per annum, 
 for five years, out of the one thousand six hundred 
 and eighty, granted him, " to be employed for the 
 service of Ireland." He likewise discharged the State 
 from the debt due him, for his services under the 
 Earl of Manchester, (amounting to £ 1,500,) to- 
 gether with the salary, as Governor of Ely, for two 
 * Vide Carlyle, Letter xxxiv. 
 
1648.] ARMY PRAYER MEETING. 197 
 
 years, also amounting to a considerable sum. This 
 offer was accepted. Thus far Cromwell seems to be 
 seeking neither wealth nor power. Giving away the 
 former as fast as bestowed — and pushed on towards the 
 latter, by circumstances which he struggles man£illy to 
 resist; he exhibits a patriotism that malice has in vain 
 endeavored to transform into ambition ; and shows that 
 he possessed a stout, straight-forward, honest, English 
 heart. 
 
 Another event, characteristic of these times and 
 men, occurred in the beginning of this year. In the 
 confusion to which everything got reduced, the army 
 knew not which way to turn. Abused by parliament 
 — called upon alternately to overturn and obey it, it 
 looked about for some light to guide its way. In 
 this dilemma, the soldiers cast their eyes upward 
 to the Lord, in whose service they fought. No 
 one can reflect on the conclusion they came to, and 
 the manner it was reached, without being deeply 
 struck with the religious spirit that animated those 
 brave hearts. Call it fanaticism, folly, impious con- 
 fidence, anything — it is certainly not hypocrisy. A 
 solemn prayer-meeting was called by the officers, to 
 pray over the subject. It met at Windsor Castle, 
 and the day was passed in fasting and supplication ; 
 but, without bringing any answer from Heaven. It 
 met again the next day, and ended with the same 
 success. The third morning these warriors assem- 
 bled for the last time, to ask the Lord for his guid- 
 ance. At length, according to Adjutant General 
 
198 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Allen, light broke in upon their darkness, and the 
 cause of their troubles was revealed : " Which," says 
 the Adjutant General, " we found to be those cursed 
 carnal conferences, our own conceited wisdom, fears, 
 and wMit of faith, had prompted us the year before 
 to entertain with the king and his party." These 
 honest-hearted men had hit the truth without doubt. 
 It was those "cursed carnal conferences" with the 
 lung, and nothing else, that had well-nigh ruined the 
 cause of English liberty. 
 
 But one would think that they might have stum- 
 bled on this plain fact, without fasting and praying 
 three days over it. Cromwell, we suspect, did un- 
 derstand it, as well as the hint conveyed to him in the 
 decision. 
 
 About this time, also, a portion of the fleet revolted, 
 and sailed for Holland. 
 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SECOND CIVIL WAR. 1648. 
 
 Cromwell Marches to Subdue the Insurrection in Wales — Invests Pem- 
 broke Castle — Fairfax Drives the Insurgents into Colchester — Lam- 
 bert Sent North to Retard the Scotch — Cromwell Reduces Pembroke, 
 and Starts Northward — His Unparalelled March — Joins Lambert — 
 Battle of Preston — Enters Edinburgh — Proceedings in Parliament — 
 Attempt to Make a New Treaty with the King, and Destroy Crom- 
 well and the Independents — Stormy Debate in Parliament — Army 
 Marches on London — Pride's Purge — Return of Cromwell — Course 
 of the Independents Defended. 
 
 The insurrectionary movements continued to grow 
 more alarming every day. In Wales, one Colonel Poyer, 
 governor of Pembroke Castle, had declared for the 
 king, and bade defiance to parliament. Cromwell, 
 heedless of the plots his enemies might lay against him 
 in his absence, and intent only on saving his country, 
 took five regiments, and hastened thither. He de- 
 parted on the 3d of May, and passing through Chep- 
 stow, which the insurgents had taken, summoned the 
 castle to surrender. A refusal being sent, he did not 
 choose to linger before it ; but leaving Colonel Ewer, 
 with a small force, to subdue it, who, in four weeks, 
 succeeded; he hastened forward. 
 
 In the meantime, Colonel Horton, with a parliament- 
 ary force under him, attacked, near Cardiff, a large 
 
200 OLIVER - CROMWELL. 
 
 reinforcement hastening to the insurgents of Pembroke, 
 and routed it utterly. 
 
 Pushing rapidly forward, crushing all opposition as 
 he advanced, he, in ten days more, came in sight of 
 Pembroke. He had no artillery ; but the soldiers, be- 
 lieving nothing impossible under their invincible leader, 
 demanded to be led to the assault ; and mounting the 
 ramparts with shouts and songs, seemed about to carry 
 them by one bold effort. But, suddenly assailed in 
 turn, with incredible fury, they were hurled back in the 
 darkness, leaving the ditch strewed with dead bodies. 
 Cromwell then sat down before the castle ; and while 
 bending all his energies to subdue the place, wrote to 
 Major Saunders, at Brecknock, to hasten with his forces 
 into Monmouth, and arrest Sir Trevor Williams, a 
 revolted officer of parliament, commanding there, also 
 Mr. Morgan, high sheriff of the shire, another recreant 
 official, who had gone over to the king. 
 
 While he was thus beleaguering Pembroke, unable to 
 make a breach, for the w r ant of cannon, which had 
 been stranded on their passage by water ; Fairfax, 
 though ill with the gout, took the field against the 
 insurgents in Kent, Essex, and London. Driving the 
 motley army before him into Maidstone, he came up 
 with, and attacked it so furiously, that, though met 
 and opposed gallantly, he utterly dissipated it. The dis- 
 jointed bands in other parts of this county and Essex, 
 finally assembled in Colchester.'. Thither Fairfax 
 marched; and closely investing the place, resolved to 
 starve out the garrison. Other detachments were cut 
 
1648.J PEMBROKE FALLS. 201 
 
 up ; and among them, one under young Villiers, son of 
 the Duke of Buckingham. Lambert had been sent 
 North, against Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who was 
 gathering the cavaliers together, to be ready for the 
 approach of the Scots. 
 
 While the fires were thus kindling all over England, 
 Cromwell still lay before Pembroke — writing, in the 
 meantime, to Fairfax, congratulating him on his vic- 
 tories, and wishing he was by his side. Thus stood 
 matters in the army ; and parliament, relieved from the 
 sudden danger that threatened it, turned its force once 
 more against the Independents, whose chief leaders 
 were now absent at the head of their regiments. It 
 rescinded the vote declaring that all negotiations with 
 the king should be broken off ; and new propositions, 
 milder than the first, were talked of. Their easy con- 
 fidence, however, was of short duration : the advance 
 of the Scottish army, under Hamilton, startled them in 
 the midst of their political squabbles ; and they wrote 
 to Cromwell, telling him to forget their former ani- 
 mosity, and relying on their support, push the war with 
 vigor. The Derby House Committee,* controlled by the 
 Independents, also wrote him to hurry off what troops 
 he could spare, to the succor of Lambert, and follow 
 himself with all speed, soon as Pembroke was reduced. 
 But the commands of the one, and the fawning syco- 
 phancy of the other, fell alike unheeded. In the midst 
 of danger, he was at home ; and the greater the dif- 
 
 * Old Committee of both Kingdoms revamped, by excluding some 
 Presbyterians, and electing Independents in their places. 
 9* 
 
202 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Acuities that surrounded him, the more resplendent 
 shone his genius. Three weeks before these messages 
 reached him, he was on the march for Scotland. In- 
 formed by his trusty servants of all that passed, he had 
 sent word to Lambert to fall back before the enemy, 
 till he should arrive to his aid ; and coiling himself 
 closer and closer round Pembroke Castle, and thunder- 
 ing upon it with his cannon, which had finally ar- 
 rived — hurling back every sally, and pressing home 
 every advantage — he, at length, July 11th, (three days 
 after the Scotch crossed the borders,) marched through 
 the gates, and received the unconditional surrender of 
 the garrison. 
 
 For seven weeks his men had been kept on constant 
 duty ; and now, worn out and exhausted, needed repose. 
 But the storm that had long been gathering on the 
 northern horizon, and was now rolling heavily over the 
 borders, would admit of no delay ; and, two days after 
 Pembroke surrendered, he broke up his camp, and 
 writing to the Derby House Committee, " Send me some 
 shoes for my poor tired soldiers — -for they have a long 
 march to make," started with his little army of five 
 thousand men to meet the Scotch invasion. Moving 
 westward, then northward, obtaining 3,000 shoes for 
 his soldiers at Leicester, he swept forward with a speed 
 till then unknown in the annals of war. A wins; the 
 insubordinate ; encouraging the friendly ; treading out 
 the smoking insurrection as he passed ; now praying 
 and preaching with his soldiers, and now hurrying on 
 the exhausted columns; he moved over the country 
 
1648.} HIS ASTONISHING MARCH. 203 
 
 like an avenging spirit whose footsteps could brook no 
 delay. Though weary and worn, no sooner had the 
 soldiers pitched their tents at night than they resounded 
 with the voice of prayer, and rung with hymns of 
 praise to God. With the first blush of day, the roll 
 of the drum called them from their heavy slumbers, 
 and they again took up their line of march. No one 
 but the leader at their head could have roused them to 
 such efforts. But, cheered by his presence who had 
 never led them but to victory, and excited to enthu- 
 siasm by his stirring appeals, they bore all with cheer- 
 fulness, and moved forward with alacrity. He had 
 sent off his cavalry in advance, to sustain Lambert till 
 he arrived, which reached him on the 27th of July, 
 just thirteen days after its departure. On that very 
 day, the portion of the fleet which had revolted from 
 parliament in May last, and, setting their commander 
 ashore, fled to Holland ; arrived in England with the 
 young Prince of Wales on board. 
 
 A fearful crisis was now fast approaching. The 
 king, though a prisoner, was surrounded with friends 
 plotting his escape — Colchester still held out against 
 Fairfax — the Prince of Wales was on the coast issuing 
 his proclamations — all England was on fire, waiting to 
 see whether Cromwell, would be crushed before the 
 united forces of the English and Scotch, now more 
 than twenty thousand strong. Every eye was turned 
 towards this single leader, who, when his wearied troops 
 were joined to those under Lambert, would scarcely 
 exceed eight thousand men — a number little more than 
 
204 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 one-third of the force against him. Never were the 
 heavens more black and tempestuous over his head than 
 at this moment. At length, after twenty-days' march, 
 he effected a junction with Lambert ; and high and wild 
 were the shouts that w r ent up, as the head of his tired 
 columns approached the camp. 
 
 BATTLE OF PRESTON FIRST DAY's FIGHT. 
 
 The Scotch and English army were advancing into 
 Lincolnshire, when Oliver, with his army of eight, or as 
 some say, nine thousand men, set out to meet it. The 
 English cavaliers, commanded by Sir Marmaduke 
 Langdale, whom Cromwell routed so terribly at Nase- 
 by, were fifteen or twenty miles in advance of the 
 Scotch. This wide and impolitic separation, was 
 owing to the immovable repugnance of the sturdy 
 Scotch Presbyterians to unite in close fellowship with 
 the English royalists, unless they would subscribe to the 
 Scotch Covenant. 
 
 Thus, a day's march apart, the two armies moved 
 forward. At length, it was told Langdale, that Crom- 
 well was within a short distance of him, and rapidly 
 advancing. He instantly sent word to Hamilton, and 
 asked for reinforcements. The duke, however, refused, 
 declaring it was impossible that Cromwell had arrived 
 so soon from Wales, or at least, with any considerable 
 force. Nor was this opinion presumptive : — who could 
 believe that he had traversed the breadth and length of 
 England in so short a time ? His heavy blows had 
 
COMMENCEMENT OF THE BATTLE. 205 
 
 scarcely ceased thundering on the gates of Pembroke 
 Castle, and now, they said, he was driving in their advanc- 
 ed posts. "Impossible!" exclaimed the duke, yet it was 
 nevertheless true. 
 
 Cromwell being informed of the loose manner in 
 which the army was marching, and also of the expected 
 approach of the Irish auxiliaries, 2500 strong, resolved, 
 without delay, to fall upon it ; and cutting it in two, roll 
 the divided portions north and south, as the rock rolls 
 the stream. Sending off, therefore, his train, in order 
 to be unencumbered, and to move with more facility, 
 he, on the 13th of August, started for Lancashire. The 
 16th, he approached near to Stonyhaust, and encamped 
 within nine miles of Preston, and three miles of the 
 Scottish quarters. Here a council of war was called, 
 and it was resolved to cross the Ribble river next day, 
 and attack the enemy at Preston. It might have 
 gone hard with Oliver, but for the stubbornness of 
 Hamilton, who persisting in believing that his dreaded 
 adversary was not near, drew off a large portion of his 
 troops, on the very day of battle. Part of his cavalry, 
 under Middleton, had also gone to Wigan, eight miles 
 distant, so that the two opposing forces were about equal. 
 
 The next morning — it was a dark and drizzly morn- 
 ing — the republicans began to advance. Two detach- 
 ments, one of two hundred horse, and another of four 
 hundred foot, were sent forward to commence the 
 attack. The former, coming upon a large body under 
 Langdale, halted until the latter could arrive. Crom- 
 well, perceiving this hesitation, spurred forward, and 
 
206 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ordered them to advance. But the odds were too great, 
 and they asked for a little delay, till the arrival of the 
 other detachment. "March!" thundered forth Crom- 
 well, and the gallant troop, with a shout of defiance, 
 precipitated itself forward. Bearing resolutely up 
 against the overwhelming numbers, they maintained 
 their ground till the foot came up, when charging home 
 on the ranks, they sent them, broken and disordered, back 
 to the main army, a quarter of a mile in the rear. 
 
 This was the commencement of the battle ; and amid 
 the roar of cannon, the shouts and enthusiastic hymns 
 of his men, Cromwell moved steadily forward with his 
 entire force. The English were drawn up on an en- 
 closed moor, a short distance from Preston. The 
 ground was well chosen to prevent the charge of 
 Oliver's Ironsides — a body of cavalry which had be- 
 come the terror of the royalists — for, intersected by 
 hedges and fences, and made soft and miry, by the 
 heavy rains of the past week, it furnished constant bar- 
 riers to the horses, which sunk fetlock deep at every 
 step, even when on a walk. A lane, enclosed with a 
 high hedge, and trodden into mire, led straight up to the 
 English centre. In this, Cromwell placed two regi- 
 ments of horse — his own and Harrison's — while the in- 
 fantry stretched out on either side like two arms. Two 
 regiments of horse flanked the right wing — one regi- 
 ment was stationed as a reserve in the lane, to act in 
 case of need, and the rest of the cavalry guarded the 
 left. Thus arrayed, Cromwell continued to advance 
 under the heavy and constant fire of the enemy. The 
 
1048.] THE BATTLE. 207 
 
 English cannon swept the lane, while from every hedge 
 close and deadly volleys of musketry were poured. But 
 nothing could stay his progress — the solid squadrons of 
 horse advanced slowly but firmly to the charge — the 
 levelled pikes cleared every hedge, and pushing home 
 every advantage, he never allowed the battle to recede 
 for a moment. Still, every inch of ground was contested 
 with noble resolution, and not a regiment fell back until 
 it had left the ground covered with its dead. It was 
 one of those close-handed fights, where there is no ces- 
 sation to the tumult — no pauses in the storm — but the 
 clang of sabres — rattle of musketry — shouts of men — 
 and ever and anon the blast of trumpets, conspire to 
 make a scene of indescribable wildness and terror. Sir 
 Marmaduke rode hither and .thither, encouraging his 
 troops to bear up bravely; and strained every nerve to 
 maintain his ground. But nothing could resist that re- 
 publican host ; bent on victory, they received the close 
 and deadly fire of their foes without shrinking, and press- 
 ing fearlessly on the stands of levelled pikes, bore down 
 the firm-set ranks with a steady pressure, against which 
 every effort seemed powerless. It was not head long 
 valor, but constant and resolute courage that decided 
 the day. 
 
 After four hours of almost unprecedented fighting, the 
 royalists, at length, gave way on all sides, and fled into 
 the town. Pressing close on their rear, four regiments 
 of cavalry charged shouting along the streets, clearing 
 them of the last vestige of opposition. 
 
 Night ended the conflict, and the Puritan host lay 
 
203 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 down on the hard fought field, with their arms in 
 their hands. Around were scattered the dead and dy- 
 ing — over two thousand of them — trampled by the hoofs 
 of the cavalry into the mire. All along that lane — by 
 the hedges — on the open moor, and sprinkling the streets 
 of Preston, corpses, a few hours before stirring with life 
 and energy, were piled in ghastly groups, while the 
 silent rain fell unheedingly both on the living and the 
 dead. 
 
 The loss to the English army was four thousand 
 taken prisoners, and from one to two thousand slain. 
 That of Cromwell was comparatively slight, though 
 doubtless far greater than he represented in his de- 
 spatches. 
 
 He followed up this victory with his usual impetu- 
 osity : that very night his cavalry pursued the royalists 
 towards Lancaster, for ten miles, cutting down the fugi- 
 tives at every step, and taking five hundred prisoners. 
 
 On that same gloomy night, too, Hamilton called a 
 council of officers together, who met on horseback, to 
 discuss what should be done. Some were for making a 
 stand, until Middleton, who had been sent for, at Wigan, 
 could return with his cavalry; and then try their for- 
 tune in another battle. But most being for a retreat, 
 the dispirited and bleeding army — hungry, drenched 
 and weary, without a drum or bugle note to cheer the 
 way, took up its line of march for Wigan. The am- 
 munition was left behind, in charge of a guard, who 
 was to blow it up, but he fled, leaving it in the hands 
 of the victors. 
 
1648.] second day's fight. 209 
 
 SECOND DAY S FIGHT. 
 
 All that night, the Scotch, eleven or twelve thousand 
 strong, staggered on through the mud ; and were miles 
 in advance before Cromwell was aware of their depart- 
 ure. Rousing up his weary soldiers, whose unparal- 
 leled efforts for the last three months, and especially the 
 last few days, had not dispirited them,- he ordered the 
 pursuit. Middleton had returned at the summons sent 
 him ; but coming by a different route from that which 
 the army took, missed it. Arriving at Ribble Bridge, 
 he found the duke had departed, and in all haste fol- 
 lowed after. But not scatheless did he go. Thorn- 
 haugh pursued him so hotly, that he was compelled 
 again and again to turn at bay. Carried away by 
 his boiling courage, this gallant leader, leading the 
 advance-guard, dashed almost alone into the very 
 midst of the enemy, and fell, pierced by two lances. 
 He was a noble officer ; and has an epitaph that any 
 man might covet. Says Cromwell of him, in his letter 
 to the Speaker of the House of Commons : " he teas a 
 man as faithful and gallant in your service as* any ; 
 and one who often, heretofore, lost blood in your quarrel; 
 and now his last. He hath left sons behind him to 
 inherit a father s honor and a sad widow; — both now the 
 interest of the Commonwealth?' A noble tribute to a 
 gallant officer from a great commander. No higher 
 eulogy ever made a patriot immortal. 
 
 Still forcing the enemy before him, and emptying 
 
210 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 many a saddle as he pressed the retiring squadrons, he 
 continued the pursuit to within three miles of Wigan, 
 where Hamilton made a stand. But no sooner did the 
 heads of the columns of infantry appear in rear, than 
 they again retreated. It was a terrible day : the can- 
 non rolled up to the axles in clay ; and the horses sunk 
 almost to their knees, at every step. Many a time the 
 cavalry charged on a walk ; and the flight and pursuit 
 were often kept up on a walk, while the rain fell in a 
 constant shower. It was a strange scene, those two 
 hosts toiling so slowly and heavily on, in the deep mire ; 
 the one in flight, the other in pursuit. So dreadful 
 were the roads that they made but twelve miles that 
 day. " It was twelve miles," says Cromwell, who was 
 used to rough weather and rough usage, " of such 
 ground as' I never rode in all my life." A hundred 
 prisoners, besides the slain, were the meagre fruits of 
 this day's toil. 
 
 THIRD DAY'S FIGHT. 
 
 That night, Cromwell encamped in the open field, 
 close upon the enemy. The soldiers were drenched to 
 their skins ; but, too weary to think of their exposure, 
 dropped in their ranks and slept; while the August 
 moon, which at length broke through and dissipated the 
 clouds, shone sweetly down upon them. 
 
 Some skirmishing passed between the outposts ; and 
 the republicans made a hundred prisoners — among 
 whom were a general and two or three colonels. Utter 
 
 * r o 
 
1648.] TERROR OF THE ROYALISTS. 211 
 
 terror had seized the royalists ; and at the mere name 
 of Cromwell, they would break and fly. Sir James 
 Turner, one of the officers in the Scotch army, thus 
 speaks of his own experience, this same night, in the 
 village of Wigan. He says : " I marched with the last 
 brigade of foot through the town of Wigan : I was 
 alarmed that our horse behind me were beaten, and 
 running several ways, and that the enemy was in my 
 rear. I faced about with that brigade, and in the mar- 
 ket-place, serried the pikes together shoulder to shoulder, 
 to entertain any that might charge ; and sent orders to 
 the rest of the brigade before to continue their march, 
 and follow Lieutenant-General Baillie, who was before 
 them. It was then night ; but the moon shone bright. 
 A regiment of horse of our own appeared foremost, 
 riding very disorderly : I got them to stop, till I com- 
 manded my pikes to open and give way for them to ride, 
 or run away, since they would not stay. But now my 
 pike- men being demented, (as I think we all were,) 
 would not hear me ; and two of them ran full tilt at me. 
 One of their pikes, which was intended for my belly, 1 
 gripped with my left hand ; the other ran nearly two 
 inches into the inner side of my right thigh ; all of them 
 crying of me and those horse, ' they are Cromwell's men!' 
 This made me forget all rules of modesty, prudence and 
 discretion. I rode to the horse, and ordered them to 
 charge through the foot. They, fearing the hazard of 
 the pikes stood ; I then made a cry come from behind 
 them that the enemy was upon them. Thus pressed 
 by greater fears behind, they were roused to charge my 
 
212 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 foot so fiercely that the pikemen threw down their pikes 
 and got into houses. All the horse galloped away, and 
 as I was told afterwards, rode not through, but over, 
 our whole foot treading them down. In the confusion, 
 Col. Lockhart was trod down from his horse, with great 
 danger of his life."* 
 
 The next morning, the routed and broken army re- 
 commenced its disastrous flight, streaming on towards 
 Warrington, pursued by Cromwell and his jaded troops. 
 When within about three miles of the place, the Scots 
 wheeled, and made a desperate stand. A large body of 
 pikemen presented a solid phalanx, in the open ground ; 
 while the hedges were lined with muskets, which opened 
 a sharp and destructive fire on the pursuers. The spot 
 they had chosen, had all the advantage of a pass ; and 
 they held it with stubborn resolution. Again and again 
 did the victorious republicans, move shoulder to 
 shoulder, on the levelled pikes, and charge, shouting 
 on the thick-set hedges. But the Scots stood firm, 
 commanded by a mere boy, with a blue bonnet, whose 
 chivalric daring, and headlong valor, was more potent 
 with them than the authority of the oldest officers. 
 Hour after hour they maintained their position; — but 
 at length, reinforcements coming up to the republicans, 
 the latter made a last charge, and cleared the pass. On 
 
 * Vide Turner's Memoirs of his own Life and Time. Carlyle, in 
 citing this, has made a mistake, in placing this and the fight near 
 Warrington, on the same night. The former was on the evening of 
 the 18th ; the hot encounter which followed, the day after. The 
 confusion, doubtless, arose from the indistinct relation of Sir James 
 Turner. 
 
 
1648.] THE VICTORY. 213 
 
 that well-contested ground, the Scotch left a thousand 
 slain, and among them the young " gallant in the blue 
 bonnet/'* Falling back on Warrington, they barricaded 
 the place, and made another stand. When Cromwell 
 came up, and saw the strength of the position, he ex- 
 pected a bloody resistance ; but, to his surprise, Lieu- 
 tenant-General Baillie, who commanded the troops — . 
 nearly four thousand in number — sent in an offer to ca- 
 pitulate, which was accepted, and the three days' battle 
 was over. Of all that gallant array, that came so 
 proudly over the borders, nothing now remained but 
 shattered and disordered fragments. With his eight 
 thousand republicans, Oliver had utterly dissipated it — 
 having slain several thousands, and taken nearly nine 
 thousand prisoners. 
 
 Hamilton, himself, with about three thousand horse, 
 fled towards Nantwich, harrassed at every step by the 
 inhabitants. Cromwell sent Lambert after him, and 
 himself attempted a pursuit of the enemy ; but, finding 
 his troops had been overtasked, he recalled them. Con- 
 stantly in the saddle, riding hither and thither — now 
 exhorting his army in that enthusiastic language he 
 knew so well how to employ; and now toiling over 
 the hard-fought field, his mind, for the last few weeks, 
 and, especially, last few days, had been wrought up to the 
 highest pitch of excitement, and his body to its great- 
 est power of endurance. Yet, when the victory was 
 gained, he did not flag ; but grieved that he could not 
 follow up the victory more vigorously. The result of 
 
 * Vide Heath's Chronicle, cited by Carlyle. 
 
214 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the attempt to do it shows what unparalelled exertions 
 had been demanded, and cheerfully rendered, by his de- 
 voted Ironsides. When ordered to march, the bugles 
 sounded; but those jaded horses no longer sprung to the 
 touch of the spur. With their heads down, and stiff 
 in all their joints, they moved at a snail's pace along. 
 The worn riders could not prick them into a gait faster 
 than an easy walk ; and Cromwell, seeing how com- 
 pletely knocked up his favorite cavalry were, resolved 
 to give them rest. In his letter to Speaker Lenthall, he 
 says, in his blunt manner, " If I had a thousand horse 
 that could trot thirty miles, I should not doubt but to 
 give a very good account of them ; but, truly, we are so 
 harassed and haggled out, in this business, that we 
 are not able to do more than walk an easy pace after 
 them!' 
 
 The prisoners encumbered the army, and he begged 
 parliament to make some disposition of them. He said 
 they would not go home if they might without a guard, 
 they were so fearful of the country they had ravaged in 
 their march. " Ten men'' he writes, " will keep a thousand 
 from running away." 
 
 To Major Berry and Edward Sexton who brought 
 Cromwell's despatches to parliament, the respective 
 sums of two hundred and one hundred pounds were 
 voted as a reward for being the bearers of such good 
 news. A day of general thanksgiving was ordered, and 
 gladness filled the hearts of the republicans. Colchester, 
 before which Fairfax had lain all this time, now surren- 
 dered — the Prince of Wales with the fleet put swiftly 
 
1048.] RAGE OF THE ROYALISTS. 215 
 
 to sea, and steered again for Holland ; while, with his 
 troops in a state of open mutiny, and Lambert close at 
 hand, the Duke of Hamilton surrendered at Uttoxeter, 
 in Staffordshire, on the 25th, and afterwards mounted 
 the scaffold. When the exciting news reached Scot- 
 land, " the kirk and Argyle party"* flew to arms to 
 complete the demolition of Hamilton's scattered forces. 
 This, says Carlyle, was called the " Whiggamore 
 Raid," 1648 ; the first appearance of the whig party 
 on the page of history, I think. " David Leslie was at 
 their head, and old Leven, ' the field-marshal of 1639,' 
 in the castle of Edinburgh, who cannonaded the Royal 
 'Hamilton' troops whenever they came in view of 
 him." Colonel Monro, who commanded the rear-guard 
 of the Scotch army, and fled at the first battle, now 
 gathered up the scattered fragments of the two armies, 
 Scotch and English, and whatever else he could mus- 
 ter, and pillaging the counties through which he passed, 
 endeavored to raise another force with which to make 
 head against the republicans. 
 
 The manner in which these great disasters, falling so 
 rapidly on the heels of each other, were received by 
 the royalists may be gathered from the following ex- 
 tract from one of their own papers. " Nothing," says 
 this paper, " is heard now among the brethren but 
 triumph and joy, singing and mirth for their happy 
 success (thanks to the devil first, and next to Noll 
 Cromwell's nose) against the Scots, whom they vaunt 
 they have beaten to dust." It then goes on to state 
 * The church party that repudiated the king — and hence this war. 
 
216 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the ruin that had overtaken the royalists, " and as if 
 the devil had got the sway of mundane affairs, the most 
 robust and heroic knight, Sir Marmaduke, was un- 
 luckily imprisoned with some other wealthy loyalists, 
 as they were sitting in a blind ale-house, and carried 
 prisoners to Nottingham Castle. But Monro, one of 
 the best soldiers in Christendom, is coming on with a 
 powerful army to give Noll Cromwell another field- 
 fight. * * * if he can shatter this army, also, he will 
 prove himself one of the most fortunate villains that 
 ever acted mischief. He will find hard play here, for 
 these will not be laughed out of their loyalty nor fright- 
 ed out of themselves with the blazing of his beacon 
 nose."* But no sooner did Lambert rejoin him, after 
 the pursuit of Hamilton, than this same Noll Cromwell 
 gave orders to march after the valiant Monro, who 
 took good care not to let his soldiers see the " blazing 
 of that beacon nose," — much less feel the stroke of his 
 trusty blades. Fleeing before him, he crossed the 
 border, and left Scotland open to his victorious army. 
 In the meantime, Cromwell published a declaration 
 requiring all the fugitives of the late Scotch army to 
 remain in the places designated for them : should they 
 disobey, the friends of parliament were to seize, and 
 if resistance was offered, to slay them. He, also, while 
 lying here on the Scotch border, sent a letter to Fair- 
 fax, recommending the widow of one Col. Powell to 
 his " tender consideration," and requesting he would use 
 his influence in parliament to have her and hers provided 
 * Cited from Parliament Porter, by the author of British Statesmen. 
 
1648.] ENTERS SCOTLAND. 217 
 
 for ; saying, that " upon his death-bed" the gallant colo- 
 nel, (who had, doubtless, fallen at Preston,) commended 
 his wife and children to his care. He, also, wrote to 
 the " Committee of Estates for the kingdom of Scotland," 
 announcing his arrival at Berwick, and demanding the 
 rendition of the castle, together with its garrison and 
 that of Carlisle: this letter was dated the 16th of 
 September. Four days before, the frightened Munro 
 appeared before Edinburgh ; but being refused entrance 
 and seeing the cannon of the castle pointed against him, 
 and an army 6,000 strong ready to give him battle, he 
 moved off to Stirling, where he made a treaty, and 
 submitted to the constituted authorities. 
 
 Berwick and Carlisle were at length both given up, 
 Sept. 24th, "by the order of the Earl of Lanark and 
 divers lords of his party." Nine days before, Cromwell 
 issued a proclamation forbidding his soldiers to plunder 
 or commit any violence on the inhabitants, on pain of 
 death. This was caused by the disorderly conduct of 
 a regiment of horse, which crossing the Tweed "on 
 the Lord's Day," as the army was marching to the 
 banks, seized some horses, and otherwise behaved "dis- 
 orderly." For this offence the commanding officer 
 was suspended, and the plunderers cashiered. Crom 
 well wrote to the " Committee of Estates" about it ; 
 stating, that this regiment, together with the other 
 marauding parties, were not a part of his regular army, 
 but " northern horse," who had not been under his dis- 
 cipline and government "until just as he came into 
 
 those parts." These troops he sent back to England, 
 10 
 
218 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 much to the joy of the people, who felt that the enemy- 
 was more considerate of their safety and happiness 
 than their pretended friends. 
 
 In the meantime, having left garrisons at Berwick 
 and Carlisle, he marched on Edinburgh. The gates 
 were thrown open to receive him, and entering them 
 on the 4th of October, he was escorted in triumph 
 through the city. Great and small flocked to see him, 
 and he was entertained like a king. The next day he 
 addressed a long letter to the "Committee of Estates 
 for the Kingdom of Scotland" — going over the causes 
 of the war, showing how dangerous the party he had 
 just humbled was, and the necessity of extirpating it, 
 root and branch ; and concluded with the demand, that 
 they should not allow any one engaged in the recent hos- 
 tilities against England, "to be employed in any public 
 place of trust whatsoever." " This," said he, " is the 
 least security I can demand." It was graciously granted 
 the next day. On the following day, a great dinner 
 was given him at Edinburgh Castle, at which the Earl 
 of Leven presided, and the Marquis of 'Argyle, and other 
 lords and dignitaries w r ere guests. As Oliver left the 
 castle, the cannon thundered forth a salute : and escort- 
 ed by lords, he departed from the city, and again turned 
 his face southward. 
 
 But, during these eventful months, so big with the 
 fate of England, far different scenes were passing in 
 parliament. Urging on Cromwell all despatch and 
 vigor, while the enemy threatened them and their gov- 
 ernment together, the Presbyterians no sooner saw him 
 
1648.] PLOTS OF HIS ENEMIES. 219 
 
 victorious than they attempted to stab him in the back. 
 Thus, while he was straining every nerve to save Eng- 
 land, parliament was plotting to destroy him. Now, 
 leading his bare-foot soldiers away from Pembroke Cas- 
 tle, and now, hurrying them, weary and exhausted, the 
 length and breadth of the land ; and though outnumbered 
 nearly three to one, hurling them in such rapid and 
 successive charges on the enemy, that they break and 
 fly, never more to rally — marching through the drench- 
 ing rain — pressing up every advantage with such 
 energy, that his tired cavalry can pursue only on a 
 walk — overcoming all obstacles, and quenching, with 
 one great effort, the flames of civil war, he claims the 
 affection and gratitude of government; but receives 
 only its jealousy and deadly hostility. 
 
 No sooner had he departed for the North, than the 
 Presbyterians, seeing that his success would be their 
 ruin, determined to crush him, whatever his fortune 
 might be. The eleven members were recalled, and 
 Holies returned and took his seat. New negotia- 
 tions were opened with the king, and fresh commis- 
 sioners sent for that purpose to phe Isle of Wight. 
 Soon after, (August 8th,) Huntington, formerly a major 
 in Cromwell's own regiment, addressed a memorial to 
 the House of Lords, in which he accused the latter 
 of intrigue, perfidy, ambition, and contempt of parlia- 
 ment and the rights of the people. He made oath to 
 his specifications ; but when it came to be sent to the 
 House of Commons, no member dared take charge of it. 
 The name of Cromwell inspired too much terror. It 
 
220 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 was then sent to the Speaker, who, inspired by the same 
 terror, laid it aside, and never told the House he had 
 received it. 
 
 Oliver's friends in parliament denounced, in the most 
 unsparing terms, this attempt to destroy a member of 
 the House, while absent in the service of the country. 
 They even sent to Fairfax, before Colchester, and be- 
 sought him to interfere. He promised to do so, in case 
 of need, but said the time had not yet come. Ludlow 
 then applied to Ireton, whom Cromwell had left behind, 
 on purpose, no doubt, to watch his enemies during 
 his absence, and received a similar reply. There 
 was no officer in the army, whose service he needed 
 more in his Scottish campaign, than those of his brave 
 and gifted son-in-law. But neither was there a man in 
 the kingdom, to whom he could entrust so safely the 
 common cause while absent. 
 
 These assassin-like attempts to ruin Cromwell were 
 made on the very days he was periling his life in the 
 battles of Preston. 
 
 Determined, however, not to die without a struggle, 
 the republicans, notwithstanding the apathy of Fairfax, 
 pressed parliament with petitions to declare itself the 
 sovereign power, and grant the reforms so long promis- 
 ed ; but they received no reply whatsoever. 
 
 In the meantime, September 13th, the fifteen commis 
 si oners, five from the upper House, and ten from the 
 lower, started for the Isle of Wight, to settle a treaty of 
 peace with the king. Three days after, Henry Marten 
 
1648.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE KING. 221 
 
 took horse for Scotland, to inform Cromwell of what 
 was passing, and hasten his return. 
 
 On the 18th of September, the commissioners open- 
 ed their negotiations. These were to last forty days, 
 during which time the king was to make no attempt 
 to escape. At the opening of the conference, Charles 
 sat under a canopy, with his counsellors silent around 
 him. His hair had turned slightly grey, and on his 
 fine countenance was an expression of sadness and 
 melancholy thought, traced there by his heavy misfor- 
 tunes. Every morning the commissioners appeared 
 before him, and each separate proposal was fully argued. 
 Charles combatted ably for his rights; but yielding 
 step by step, at length, agreed to surrender the military 
 force to parliament, and allow it to nominate the chief 
 officers of State. He even declared the war which had 
 been waged against him, lawful; indeed, consented to 
 everything but the punishment of his friends, and the 
 abolition of episcopacy. The forty days were consum- 
 ed in these protracted negotiations, and twice was the 
 time extended. Five times the commissioners voted his 
 concessions insufficient, but still eagerly pressed a settle- 
 ment, before Cromwell should return and upset every- 
 thing. The king, however, stood firm on these points, 
 and was evidently heartless in his concessions with 
 regard to the others : for, after giving his royal word 
 that the persecutions in Ireland should be stopped, he 
 secretly wrote to Ormond, commanding him to obey his 
 wife's orders, not his, nor "trouble himself about his 
 concessions to Ireland, as they would lead to nothing :" 
 
222 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 and on the very day he promised to give up the mili- 
 tary power to parliament for twenty years, he wrote to 
 Sir William Hopkins, that this concesssion was made 
 solely to "facilitate his approaching escape." Thus 
 false throughout, he regarded all promises as compul- 
 sory, so long as he was not on the throne. 
 
 While events were thus progressing in the Isle of 
 Wight, parliament became a scene of confusion and 
 alarm. The army was enraged at the negotiations 
 carried on with the king ; Cromwell was returning, and 
 everything tending to a catastrophe. Petitions came 
 pouring in against all delinquents ; at length, one from 
 the regiments of Ireton, Ingoldsby, Fleetwood, Whalley 
 and Overton, demanding justice on the king. 
 
 THE CHIEF DELINaUENT. 
 
 On the 20th of November, Col. Ewer presented him- 
 self at the door of the House with a grand remonstrance 
 from the army, in which the perils of the country were 
 specified and charged home on the imbecile parliament. 
 It called on them to break off all negotiations with the 
 king, and bring him to trial — to declare the sovereignty 
 of the people — provide for universal suffrage — in short, 
 establish a republic. It fell like a bomb in the midst of 
 parliament, and for awhile all was confusion, indigna- 
 tion and excitement. After two days' stormy debate, it 
 was voted to return no answer at all to the remon- 
 strance. But this only inflamed the popular feeling. 
 The most alarming and contradictory reports were cir- 
 
1648.] ALARM IN PARLIAMENT. 223 
 
 culated. Now Cromwell was close at hand — now 
 Fairfax and Ireton were about to lead the army on 
 London. On the other side, the royalists threatened 
 assassination — Fairfax was warned of his danger — it 
 was even rumored that eighty of the most powerful 
 members were to be murdered as they left the House. 
 The republicans were openly insulted — Rainsborough 
 had been poniarded at Doncaster, and all was terror 
 and dismay. But amid the various and startling ru- 
 mors borne to the ear of Charles, one alarmed him 
 more than all others, viz. : that Fairfax had removed 
 Hammond from the governship of the Isle of Wight, on 
 the ground of his being too lenient to him, and appointed 
 Colonel Ewer in his place. It was this news which 
 impelled him to make immediate and great concessions, 
 which he had no intention of fulfilling. 
 
 Hammond seems to have been an ingenuous, con- 
 scientious man, ill-fitted for the turbulent times in 
 which he was thrown. He left the army, and selected 
 the governorship of the Isle of Wight, in order to obtain 
 quiet, and lo, he was now in the very vortex of trouble 
 and excitement. On the same day, November 25th, 
 in which he received the order from Fairfax, to resign 
 his post, Cromwell, from near Pontefract, the castle of 
 which he was endeavoring to subdue in his march 
 northward, was writing a long, and somewhat remarka- 
 ble letter to him. It was rather a sermon than a letter, 
 in which he discussed the providences of, God, as seen 
 in the times — the duty of every conscientious man — the 
 lawful power of the army, &c., &c. He endeavored to 
 
224 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 satisfy the religious scruples of his " dear Robin," as he 
 called him, respecting the course he should adopt 
 towards the king ; telling him that it w T as wrong to flinch 
 from the responsibility providence had thrown upon 
 him, and exhorting him to seek the " spirit of knowledge 
 and understanding, the spirit of counsel, and might, and 
 wisdom, and fear of the Lord." He closed this singular 
 epistle with : 
 
 " This trouble I have been at, because my soul loves 
 thee ; and I would not have thee swerve, or lose any 
 glorious opportunity the Lord puts into thy hand. The 
 Lord be thy counsellor. 
 
 " Dear Robin, I rest thine. 
 
 "Oliver Cromwell." 
 
 It came too late, however, to affect "Robin" in the 
 discharge of his duties as" governor ; — Fairfax, doubtless 
 through the influence of lreton, had taken a more 
 effectual method to prevent any weak misgivings, and 
 appointed a sterner and more resolute man in his place. 
 
 The same day, also, the commissioners departed with 
 the compact made between them and the king. On the 
 1st of December, it was laid before parliament; and 
 though possessing the same obnoxious points, which had 
 caused the former rejection of the king's proposals, the 
 Presbyterians moved that it should be the basis of a 
 peace ; and the debate commenced. It had lasted, 
 however, but a few hours, when a letter was received 
 from Fairfax, stating that the army was marching on 
 London. In the midst of the sudden terror, caused by 
 
1648.] ARMY MARCHES ON LONDON. 225 
 
 this announcement, the Independents called out " Ques- 
 tion! Question!" hoping, in the panic, to defeat the 
 motion before the House. But the Presbyterians had 
 rallied for a death struggle, and would not let the 
 vote be taken, and the debate was adjourned over to next 
 day. 
 
 In the meantime, the army at Windsor was bowed in 
 prayer before God. It had heard, the day before, of the 
 rejection of its remonstrance, and appointed this as a day 
 of prayer, in order to seek direction and guidance from 
 heaven. At its conclusion, it was resolved, with one 
 accord, to advance on London ; and the next morning, 
 December 2d, while parliament, again in session, was 
 debating the motion of the previous day, it took up its 
 line of march. Before night, the massive columns 
 were pouring quietly, yet rapidly, into the city. 
 
 Meanwhile, the debate was carried on tumultuously in 
 the House, and protracted till evening, when, (the next 
 day being Sunday,) it was adjourned over to Monday. 
 That was a solemn Sabbath for London and England. 
 In the several quarters of the army, no rioting was per- 
 mitted, and nothing but prayer and exhortations broke the 
 stillness and solemnity that reigned throughout the capi- 
 tal. But all the religious ceremonies had a direct refer- 
 ence to the coming struggle. The most miraculous 
 events in the Old Testament, the wonderful interposition 
 of the Lord in behalf of his people, when pressed by the 
 enemy, were received with enthusiasm by the soldiers 
 and applied to themselves. 
 10* 
 
226 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 THE KING SEIZED. 
 
 The next day, when parliament assembled, anxiety- 
 sat on every countenance ; for, coiled around it, lay the 
 indignant army ; while a whisper passed round the 
 House, that the king had been seized, and carried to 
 Hurst Castle. This w r as true — four days before, or 
 the next night after the commissioners left the Isle of 
 Wight, Charles was seized at Newport, where the con- 
 ference had been held, and carried from the island 
 across to the beach, and imprisoned in Hurst Castle — 
 a stronghold that stood frowning over the sea. It was 
 a dark and stormy night, when the republicans landed 
 on the island; but their arrival was soon known, and 
 their purpose discovered by the king's friends. The 
 Earl of Lindsey, Duke of Richmond, and Colonel 
 Edward Cook, urged him to escape instantly. Cook 
 mounted in the driving rain, and rode at the peril of 
 his life around the coast, to Carisbrook, to see what was 
 going on. On his return, at midnight, he found the 
 king's quarters surrounded with soldiers — the smoke of 
 their gun-matches, carried by the damp air, into his 
 very apartments. It was a sad spectacle the three 
 friends and the king presented there alone, in the stormy 
 midnight, discussing the perils which surrounded them. 
 Richmond and Lindsey passionately entreated their 
 master to fly; while Cook, drenched with rain, stood 
 silent and stern before the fire. At length, Charles 
 turned to him, and asked his advice. He refused, at 
 
1648.] THE KING IN HURST CASTLE. 227 
 
 first, to give it; but, being commanded by Charles, 
 asked, " Will your majesty allow me to address you a 
 question ?" He replied in the affirmative, when Cook 
 said, " Suppose I should not only tell your majesty, but 
 prove to you, that the army intend forthwith to seize 
 you ; if I add that I have the pass- word — horses ready 
 at hand — a vessel attending me, hourly expecting me — 
 that I am ready and desirous to attend you — that this 
 dark night seems made on purpose — that I see no dif- 
 ficulty in the thing, what would your majesty do?" 
 The king stood a moment silent and thoughtful, and 
 then replied, " No ; they promised me, and I promised 
 them : I will not break first." Cook reminded him that 
 it was the army, not the parliament, who wished to 
 seize him. Charles still shook his head ; and Cook and 
 Lindsey withdrew, leaving him alone with Richmond. 
 The truth is, the king seemed never equal to sudden 
 and great emergencies. When called upon to decide 
 quick, and in favor of desperate measures, involving 
 his personal safety, and demanding great personal effort, 
 he invariably failed. Once, only, at the battle of Naseby, 
 did he exhibit any of the characteristics of a daring, 
 self-reliant man. 
 
 The next morning, he was carried across to the 
 castle, and locked up in a room so dimly lighted that 
 lamps were needed at mid-day. Ireton, no doubt, was 
 at the bottom of this, as well as the movement on Lon- 
 don. Resolute, daring, and inflexible as Cromwell, he 
 was still more of a republican ; and had no reverence 
 whatever for kingship. 
 
228 ' OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 This news, which soon passed from rumor to open 
 announcement, was not calculated to soothe the Pres- 
 byterians; and before proceeding to the business for 
 which they were assembled, they denounced, in the 
 most opprobrious terms, this high-handed measure of 
 the army ; and passed a vote declaring that it had been 
 executed without their assent or knowledge. The de- 
 bate on the motion respecting the king's concessions 
 was then resumed, with the determined resolution, on 
 the one hand to carry it through, and on the other to 
 defeat it, at all hazards. Hour after hour, the hall rung 
 to the loud and angry declamations of the members; 
 until at length, late in the night, after twelve or four- 
 teen hours' discussion, Prynne, the famous Puritan who 
 had his ears twice cropped off, been put in the stocks, 
 fined and imprisoned, arose, and spoke in behalf of the 
 motion.* His sufferings for the cause of liberty ; 
 
 * He began : " Mr. Speaker, first, I would remove the seeming 
 prejudices which else may enervate what I am to say. Some mem- 
 bers, firstly, have aspersed me, that I am a royal favorite, alluding to 
 the title of one of my works. All the royal favor I ever yet received 
 from his majesty or his party, was the cutting off of my ears, two 
 several times one after another, in a most barbarous manner ; the set- 
 ting me upon three several pillories in a disgraceful manner, for two 
 hours at a time : the burning of my licensed books before my face by 
 the hangman ; the imposing of ten fines upon me of $5000 a-piece ; 
 exclusion from the House, and court, and university of Oxford ; the 
 loss of my calling, almost nine years' space ; close eight years' im- 
 prisonment, without pens, ink, paper, or books, except my Bible, 
 and without access of friends, or any allowance of diet for my sup- 
 port. If any member envy me for such royal favors, I only wish him 
 the same badges of favor; and then he will no more asperse me for a 
 royal favorite, or apostate from the public cause." — Pari. Hist. 
 
1648.] pride's purge. 229 
 
 the injustice he had received from the hands of the 
 king ; and above all his known attachment to the prin- 
 ciples of freedom, gave great weight to his address, 
 and doubtless, turned the scale in favor of the Presby- 
 terians. At five o'clock* in the morning, having sat 
 nearly twenty-four hours, the motion was put and 
 carried, that the king's concessions afforded a sufficient 
 basis for a peace. One hundred and twenty-nine were 
 in favor of it, and eighty-three against it — giving a 
 clear majority of forty-six.f 
 
 The crisis had now come : the king was once more 
 to be restored ; and the Independents and the army, 
 with Oliver at their head, were to be given up to the 
 vengeance of the Presbyterians and royalists. 
 
 pride's purge. 
 
 That night was one of anxious deliberation among 
 the officers. At length, they resolved to purge the 
 House by force ; and a list of the chief members of the 
 Presbyterian party was immediately made out. Next 
 morning, the city train-bands being discharged from 
 their duty, as guards of parliament, Col. Rich, with a 
 regiment of horse, took possession of Palace yard ; while 
 Col. Pride, with a regiment of foot, invested Westmin- 
 ster Hall, closing every avenue to the House of Com- 
 
 * Guizot says nine o'clock; and makes out that of the twenty-four 
 hours which the House sat, twelve of them were consumed by Prynne 
 alone — evidently a mistake. 
 
 f Guizot says, one hundred and forty and one hundred and four, or 
 a majority of six : and a House of 244 instead of 212 members. 
 
230 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 mons. He himself stood at the principal entrance, with 
 the list of proscribed members in his hand, and Lord 
 Grey of Groby by his side ; who whispered, as this and 
 that one approached, "he is one of them." "To the 
 queen's court," thundered out Pride; and the soldiers 
 seized them instantly, and hurried them away. The 
 members declared loudly against this breach of law; 
 the parliament appealed to Fairfax, but to no purpose ; 
 and forty-one were thus seized, and marched rather un- 
 ceremoniously to a tavern called Hell, where they were 
 lodged for the night. The next day, Cromwell suddenly 
 entered the House, walking arm in arm with Henry 
 Marten, and took his seat. Informed of what was 
 going on, he had left the army and the reduction of 
 Pontefract Castle to Lambert, and hastened to London. 
 " Mr. Speaker," said he, " God is my witness, that I 
 know nothing of what has been doing in this House : 
 but the work is in hand, and now we must carry 
 it through." And it was carried through. " Pride's 
 Purge," as this summary purging of parliament was 
 called, was continued this day, the 7th, also, till over a 
 hundred members were either seized, or frightened into 
 flight. Never before was a majority so quickly reduced 
 and opposition annihilated. 
 
 The Independents had it now their own way ; and 
 after having voted thanks to Cromwell, for the man- 
 ner in which he had conducted the Scottish cam- 
 paign, revoked the recent acts of parliament respecting 
 peace. 
 
 This was another high-handed, illegal act, on the 
 
1648.] pride's purge defended. 231 
 
 part of the republicans ; and was done — -as Hugh Peters 
 (Fairfax's chaplain) said, when asked by the members 
 by what authority they were arrested — " hy the power of 
 the sword." No one pretends to find any law for such 
 a proceeding; and whoever expects a revolution can 
 proceed according to law, expects what never did, and 
 never can, happen. It is one of the very designs and 
 objects of a revolution to overturn authority, and in- 
 stitute new rules and new powers. Yet, those who 
 suppose this attack on parliament was the result of 
 wild phrensy, or headlong enthusiasm, very much mis- 
 take the character of the men who planned it. Crom- 
 well, evidently, knew nothing of the movement, though 
 he declared it met his approval. Even Fairfax, the 
 commander-in-chief, was ignorant of it. It was Ire- 
 ton's work throughout, though men of nearly equal 
 ability and daring were also in the plot. It was 
 a well-discussed and deliberate scheme ; and, in our 
 opinion, justified by the circumstances of the case. 
 Here was a king, whom nobody could trust — who had, 
 in fact, not surrendered one jot of those claims, to sub- 
 stantiate which he had again deluged the kingdom in 
 blood — suddenly to be put in power, and the whole 
 struggle to be gone over with again. The Presby- 
 terians did not believe in his promises : the commis- 
 sioners, themselves, knew he did not design to keep his 
 word, and grant the concessions which had been 
 wrung, with such difficulty, from him. It was a heart- 
 less business throughout ; — on the part of the king, a 
 deception practised " to facilitate" his "escape;" — on 
 
232 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the part of the Presbyterians, a dishonest attempt to 
 crush the Independents, who, with the army on their 
 side, were getting too strong for them. The very con- 
 cessions which they now voted ample, they had again 
 and again declared inadmissible. That the parliament 
 and king would settle a peace on this basis, no one 
 believed. The Presbyterians, however, saw that they 
 must choose between their own destruction, or a coa- 
 lition with Charles ; and so, unhesitatingly, preferred 
 the latter, reckless of the evils that might flow from it. 
 But, how did the matter present itself to the republican 
 leaders ? They penetrated the design, and saw clearly 
 that one of three things must be done. First, they must 
 consent to be destroyed, and have the army disbanded, 
 and the country given over to the political intrigues of the 
 Presbyterians and the king, trusting to providence or 
 fortune for the result ; or, in the second place, resisting 
 all attempts to disband them, as they had heretofore 
 done, silently wait for events to take their course, and 
 leave the king and his party to bring on another bloody 
 war ; or, in the third place, do as they did ? In the 
 one case, they must abandon all that for which they 
 had been so long struggling, and leave England to its 
 fate ; and, in the other, enter again on all the horrors 
 of civil war. There was no escape from one or other of 
 these monstrous evils : they were compelled, therefore, 
 with their eyes open, to choose between them, or resort 
 to violence. So long as there was a possibility that 
 parliament would not push matters to such an extrem- 
 ity, the republicans contented themselves with remon- 
 
1648.] THE REVOLUTION PROGRESSES-. 233 
 
 strances and petitions ; but as soon as the vote was car- 
 ried, and the step taken, compelling them to look the 
 evils before them directly in the face, and make their 
 choice, they unhesitatingly employed the only power left 
 them — the sword. 
 
 Thus far, amid all the enthusiasm and fanaticism 
 which pervaded the army, the leaders have shown 
 themselves clear-headed, wise, and prompt ; but the 
 next step exhibits more the wild and fierce revolu- 
 tionary spirit — we mean, the execution of the king. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 
 
 The King Brought from Hurst Castle to Windsor — His Impeachment — 
 Creation of the High Court of Justice to Try Him — Westminster 
 Hall during the Trial — Address of President Bradshaw — Inter- 
 ruption of the Court by Downs — Conduct of Cromwell — Sentence 
 of the King — His Agitation, and Efforts to be Heard — Interview 
 with His Children — Attempts to Save Charles — Conduct of Crom- 
 well in Signing the Death-Warrant — The King's Execution — 
 Cromwell's Soliloquy over the Corpse — Defence of Him against 
 His Biographers — Ireton Chief Actor — Defence of Parliament — 
 Character of the King. 
 
 Immediately after this "purge" of parliament, peti- 
 tions came pouring in, to have the king tried for the 
 evils he had brought on the realm. They were granted ; 
 and a detachment, under Major Harrison, was sent to 
 Hurst Castle, to bring him to Windsor. It arrived at 
 the castle at midnight ; and Charles, aroused out of his 
 sleep, by the noise made in lowering the draw-bridge, 
 rang, in alarm, for Herbert, who slept in an adjoining 
 room, and sent him out to inquire who had come. On 
 being told, Major Harrison, he became so deeply agitated, 
 that Herbert wept in sympathy. Charles, on witness- 
 ing his emotion, said, "I am not afraid; but do you 
 not know that this is the man, who, I was told, during 
 the last treaty, was to assassinate me ? This is a place 
 
1649.] THE KING BROUGHT TO TRIAL. 235 
 
 fit for such a purpose." But, when he was informed that 
 the detachment had come to take him to Windsor, he 
 was pacified ; and, two days after, under the guard of 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Cobbett, cheerfully set out for his 
 former palace, and the scenes of his early pleasures. 
 Lord Newburgh, with whom he dined on his way, en- 
 deavored to persuade him to make his escape on one of 
 his fleet horses; but Charles refused; and, December 
 23d, entered Windsor — the same day on which a motion 
 to impeach him was carried, and a committee of thirty- 
 eight appointed to make out the charges. Henry 
 Marten and Thomas Scott were the chief members of 
 the committee — both accomplished men, able states- 
 men, and daring republicans. On the 28th, an ordi- 
 nance for his trial passed the lower House. On that 
 very day, also, Charles received an order from the 
 council of war, directing that the ceremonies of regal 
 state, which had heretofore been extended to him — 
 such as being served by a cup-bearer, on bended knee, 
 with a chamberlain, maitre d'hotel, esquire carver, &c, 
 should hereafter be dispensed with. 
 
 On the first day of the new year, 1649, the commit- 
 tee made their report, accusing Charles Stuart, king of 
 England, of high treason ; and the next day sent the 
 charge and evidence to the House of Lords. The lat- 
 ter immediately rejected them, and adjourned for a 
 week — an act the commissioners construed into an 
 abdication of their functions, and so proceeded to 
 try the king without them. A fresh ordinance was 
 passed in the name of the House of Commons, by 
 
236 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 which a high court of justice, consisting of one hun- 
 dred and thirty-five members, was created. Of these, 
 there were Viscount Lisle, Lord Grey of Groby, 
 Lord Monson, Fairfax, Cromwell, Skippon, Ireton, 
 Marten, and all the colonels of the army, three ser- 
 geants- at-law, five barristers, five aldermen of Lon- 
 don, one knight of the Bath, eleven baronets, and ten 
 knights. Eighty- two were members of the House of 
 Commons. 
 
 Such an august court might try the emperor of the 
 world, and not be accused of presumption. It met on 
 the 8th of January, and nominated its officers and 
 council. The next day, a new, great seal — the seal of 
 the commonwealth of England, was ordered by the 
 House of Commons. The day following, the high 
 court met, and appointed John Bradshaw, a cousin of 
 Milton's, sergeant- at-law, and chief justice of Chester, 
 president. Perhaps a more fitting man could not have 
 been chosen for this high and responsible office. 
 Learned, upright, calm, grave, self-collected, and, when 
 demanded of him, inflexible and stern as death, he was 
 well-calculated to direct the proceedings of one of the 
 most extraordinary tribunals ever erected upon the 
 earth. 
 
 Steele, Coke, Dr. Dorislaus, and Aske, w T ere coun- 
 sel for the prosecution. 
 
 Everything being ready, the king w T as privately 
 brought from Windsor, on the 19th of January; and 
 the next morning, conducted by Harrison, before the 
 court assembled in Westminster. The members re- 
 
1649.] the king's trial. 237 
 
 duced in numbers, on account of many refusing to sit 
 as judges, were in private session in the painted 
 chamber, where prayer had just been offered, when it 
 was announced that the king was coming. Cromwell 
 immediately turned to the court, and said, " Let us 
 resolve here, what answer we shall give the king, when 
 he comes before us ; for the first question he will ask 
 of us, will be, by what authority and commission we 
 try him ?"* A pause ensued, when Marten rose, and 
 replied, " In the name of the commons, and parlia- 
 ment assembled, and all the good people of England" 
 Ample authority in times of revolution. They then 
 adjourned to Westminster Hall, with Bradshaw at their 
 head, preceded by sixteen armed officers. Bradshaw, 
 dressed in a scarlet robe, and wearing his ever-after- 
 ward renowned broad-brimmed hat lined with steel, 
 took his seat in the centre of the court, in a scarlet- 
 cushioned chair. The members ranged themselves on 
 either side of him on benches, covered with scarlet cloth 
 ■ — also keeping their hats on their heads. At each ex- 
 tremity of this long line of republican judges — sixty- 
 
 * Guizot, and Dr. d'Aubigne following him, says, " he turned pale." 
 These writers contradict themselves sadly. At one time, Cromwell 
 is so tender and faint-hearted, that he turns pale at the sight of the 
 king ; at another, so destitute of feeling, that he is guilty of buf- 
 foonery when signing his death-warrant ; and again, made of such 
 hardened, material, that he, voluntarily, goes to gaze and muse on the 
 royal corpse. It is not likely that he who had so often charged home 
 on the king in battle, turned pale to see him pass the window, 
 guarded by soldiers. The statement rests on the testimony of a single 
 witness, given after the restoration, and who, doubtless, mistook his 
 own pallor for that of Cromwell. 
 
238 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 nine in number, stood men at arms, a little in advance, 
 so as Jo command a view of the whole. Below the 
 president, beside a table covered with a rich Turk- 
 ish cloth, on which lay the sword of state and mace, 
 sat the two clerks of the court. 
 
 As soon as the great gates of the hall were thrown 
 open, the crowd poured in, and filled all the space be- 
 low, together with the galleries allotted to the spec- 
 tators. Silence being restored, the President said, 
 " Sergeant, bring in the prisoner !" A moment of 
 breathless suspense followed ; and then, Charles Stuart, 
 of England, walked slowly, calmly in, guarded by 
 thirty-three officers ; and after gazing sternly and coldly 
 on the crowd and court, with his hat on, took his seat at 
 the bar, facing the judges. The next moment he rose 
 again to his feet, and turning round, looked down the 
 vast hall — first, on the guards ranged in order on the 
 left ; and then, upon the sea of heads that crowded the 
 space to the right, without saying a word, or betray- 
 ing the least agitation or fear. As he again turned 
 to the court, his eye fell on the new escutcheon of the 
 commonwealth, on either side of which sat Oliver Crom- 
 well and Marten. That insignia of the new common- 
 wealth, between two such men, spoke volumes to the 
 king ; and he sank in his seat. 
 
 Bradshaw then rose, and said, " Charles Stuart, king 
 of England, the commons of England, in parliament 
 assembled, taking notice of the effusion of blood in the 
 land, which is fixed on you, as the author of it, and 
 whereof you are guilty, have resolved to bring you to 
 
1649.] the king's defence. 239 
 
 a trial and judgment ; and, for this cause, the tribunal 
 is created. The charge will now be read by the soli- 
 citor-general." The attorney-general, Coke (or, as some 
 have it, Cook), then rose to read it, when the king 
 tapped him on the shoulder with his cane, exclaiming, 
 " Silence !" in a tone of high command. The gold head 
 of the cane was knocked off in the action, and the 
 king himself was compelled to stoop and pick it up. 
 His superstitious nature immediately construed it into 
 an evil omen ; and, for a moment, his working features 
 revealed the agitation of his breast. Coke then went 
 on to the end without interruption, charging him with 
 abuse of power, with tyranny, and shedding the blood of 
 his people, in short, of high treason. The king sat the 
 while motionless as marble, save as the words "tyrant, 
 traitor, murderer," smote his ear, when a slight smile 
 passed over his features. The reading being finished, 
 the president said, "You have heard the charge — the 
 court awaits your answer." Charles replied, that he did 
 not recognise the authority by which he was arraigned 
 — that it was but a short time since he was negotiating 
 a treaty with parliament, and now he was arrested as a 
 culprit — that two houses were necessary to a parlia- 
 ment, but he saw none of the lords here — that a king 
 was also necessary to a parjiament, and when con- 
 vinced of the legality of the tribunal before him, he 
 would answer, and not before. The president replied, 
 that it was by the authority of "the people of Eng- 
 land ;" authority sufficient for them, if not for him ; and 
 
240 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 that he must plead to the charge, or it would be taken 
 pro confesso. 
 
 The whole time of sitting was spent in arguing the 
 authority of the court. On Monday it met again, and 
 this and the next day were occupied in the same fruit- 
 less altercation. The fourth and fifth days the court 
 sat in the painted chamber, and was employed in 
 hearing witnesses. On the evening of the last day 
 (the 25th), a vote was passed declaring the king to be a 
 traitor, tyrant, and enemy to his country ; and a com- 
 mittee of seven, Marten, Harrison, Say, Ireton, Scot, 
 Lisle, and Love, were appointed to draw up the sen* 
 tence. The next day, the form of the charge* was dis- 
 cussed with closed doors, and finally adopted. The fol- 
 lowing morning, the court met for the last time, and the 
 king was brought in to receive sentence. As he passed 
 through one of the entrances, some soldiers cried 
 out "justice," "execution;" but one of them upon 
 guard said, "God bless you," for which his officer 
 struck him. " The punishment," said the king, mildly, 
 " methinks exceeds the offence."* 
 
 * See Appendix. 
 
 f Guizot has a long account of the insults heaped on the king, such 
 as puffing tobacco-smoke in his face, and mocking him in brutal lan- 
 guage ; some writers have declared that the soldiers spit in his face. 
 The details of Guizot on this point, are, to say the least, apocryphal. 
 What might have been said in the crowd, out of hearing of the king 
 and his guard, is entirely irrelevant: coarse jokes are heard around 
 every scaffold and gallows, and, doubtless, were uttered during the 
 king's trial, and these have been preserved and very easily made to 
 have been uttered to his face. But Herbert, the king's constant atten- 
 dant, makes no mention of these brutalities in his account of the matter, 
 
1649.] DISORDER OF THE COURT. 241 
 
 Being again at the bar, Charles attempted to speak, 
 but was sternly silenced by the president, who bade him 
 first listen to the court and then, afterwards, before 
 sentence was pronounced, he should have liberty to say 
 what he wished. The king then requested to be heard 
 in the painted chamber by both Houses of Parliament, 
 assembled, " on a proposal," he added, " which is of far 
 more importance to the peace of the kingdom and the 
 liberty of my subjects than to my own preservation." 
 Some great and secret meaning was supposed by many 
 to be conveyed in this language, and the whole assem- 
 bly and court became at once deeply agitated : some 
 thought that he designed to abdicate in favor of his 
 son ; but, if so, he would doubtless have hinted his 
 wishes, and also afterwards have mentioned the fact 
 to his friends. It was, probably, simply a last and des- 
 perate effort to escape his doom, by casting himself on 
 the two Houses of Parliament. The discussion of the 
 request by the court threw it into disorder; and at 
 length, one of the members, Col. Downes, arose and 
 
 except the one specified above, which he certainly would have done 
 had they occurred. In fact, he says, that the king, after retiring on 
 the last day after the trial, asked him if he heard the cry for justice. 
 He replied that he did, and wondered at it. ii Idid not" said the king ; 
 " it was, doubtless, given to please the officers, for whom the soldiers 
 would do the like, were there occasion." But Herbert would not have 
 given such minute particulars of this and yet left out grosser insults. 
 The truth is, the whole account, as given by royalist writers after the 
 restoration, is unworthy of credit. The scene in the gallery, too, re- 
 sulting from the bold interruption of Fairfax's wife, is stated by Guir- 
 zot to have occurred on the last day of the trial, while Hume puts it 
 on the first. 
 
 11 
 
242 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 declared he could not agree to the sentence, and re- 
 quested the 'court to adjourn and hear him. With the 
 same dignified composure which had characterized all 
 his acts as president of that body, Bradshaw arose and 
 said, " If any one of the court be not satisfied the court 
 must adjourn," and the members immediately retired to 
 a private room. No sooner were they by themselves, 
 than Cromwell is said to have assailed Downes with 
 harsh upbraidings for having disturbed the court. The 
 latter defended himself, declaring that all they wanted 
 were good guarantees from the king and they ought to 
 hear his proposals. Cromwell replied, that he did not 
 know he had to do with the hardest man on the earth — 
 that his scruples about not receiving the king's pro- 
 position were a farce, and his motive was to save his old 
 master. The truth is, he saw through poor Downes, 
 and detected in his agitation simply the quailing of a 
 weak and irresolute spirit. After half an hour's de- 
 liberation, the court returned to the hall, and told the 
 king that his proposition had been rejected. It fell like 
 the blow of a hammer on the unhappy monarch, for he 
 saw his last hope departing. 
 
 Bradshaw now asked him if he had anything more to 
 say. He replied that he had nothing more. The for- 
 mer then rose to pronounce sentence ; but before he or- . 
 dered the clerk to read it, he made a long speech to the 
 king, in which he, without insult, and yet without fear, 
 went through a searching and terrible review of the past 
 few years — of his course with parliament and with the na- 
 tion. He exposed his tyranny, his falsehood, and deceit; 
 
1649.] THE SENTENCE. 243 
 
 showed how he had compelled his subjects to resistance, 
 and charged sternly home upon him the blood shed in the 
 two civil wars which had finally prostrated his power. 
 It was a thrilling and awful scene, and new in the his- 
 tory of the world — a republican judge, in the presence 
 and by the authority of " the people," pronouncing 
 a verdict of guilt against a king in the heart of his 
 own realm. Every word uttered without agitation 
 or haste, was heard distinctly to the farthest end 
 of the vast and crowded hall. A breathless interest 
 sealed every tongue ; and as the relentless judge pro- 
 ceeded to recount the enormities the king had been 
 guilty of, a slight agitation was visible in the dark mass 
 of republican heads ; and eyes grew sterner, and looks 
 more resolute. A solemnity, like that of the grave, sat 
 on the countenances of the judges, as they there, in the 
 person of their president, declared before the world the 
 " sovereignty of the people," and threw down " the head 
 of a king as the gage of the battle," they would fight 
 to maintain it. And there sat the king, at length fully 
 aroused by the decree made out against him, and which 
 till lately he did not believe his enemies dare pro- 
 nounce. Grave as the judge — his luxuriant hair, 
 turned slightly grey, falling gracefully around a coun- 
 tenance on which misfortune had made sad inroads — 
 he manifested no emotion till near the close of the 
 address, when his features became suddenly agitated. 
 His lost realm, his wife, his children, the bloody 
 scaffold, passed in terrible distinctness before him — and 
 the firm monarch shook. 
 
244 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Bradshaw having finished, he ordered the clerk to 
 read the sentence. The king would have interrupted 
 him, but Bradshaw arrested him, and the sentence was 
 read. Not a murmur — not a sound broke the death- 
 like silence, that had fallen on the assembly. Charles, 
 however, again attempted to speak, exclaiming, " Will 
 you hear me a word ?" " Sir," replied Bradshaw, " you 
 are not to be heard after the sentence." "No, sir?" 
 imploringly asked the king. " No, sir, by your favor !" 
 was the cold reply ; followed by, " Guards, withdraw the 
 prisoner!" For the first time throughout his trial, 
 Charles lost that self-possession, and calm dignity, which 
 had extorted the admiration even of his enemies. For 
 a moment, human nature gave way — the man and 
 the father triumphed over the king, and in a penitent 
 and humble tone, he cried out, "I may speak after the 
 sentence, by your favor, sir — I may speak after the 
 sentence, ever by your favor?" "Hold!" sternly inter- 
 rupted the inflexible judge, and made a sign to the guards, 
 who approached. " The sentence, sir," agonizingly 
 exclaimed the king; "I say, sir, I do — " "Hold!" 
 again broke from the pallid lips of the president, and the 
 condemned and desolate king was hurried away, saying; 
 "I am nQt suffered to speak. Expect what justice 
 other people will have." 
 
 This trying scene over, Charles was himself again. 
 Only three days were to intervene between his sentence 
 and death; and finding that all that time would be 
 necessary to prepare himself for his doom, he gave 
 orders to have his friends refused admittance, that his 
 
1649.] SIGNS THE DEATH-WARRANT. 245 
 
 last hours might not be disturbed. Bishop Juxon was 
 allowed to attend him, and free permission given him to 
 see whomsoever he desired. He wished to see only 
 his children — and the Princess Elizabeth, and Duke 
 of Gloucester, the former twelve, and the latter eight 
 years of age — they being the only ones near him — 
 were brought to his prison. The interview was touch- 
 ing in the extreme. After giving his last advice, 
 and blessing them, he rose and ordered Juxon to have 
 them removed; while, to hide his grief, he stood with 
 his face pressed close against the window — the tears 
 streaming from his eyes. But the sobs of the chil- 
 dren, as they passed through the door, were too much 
 for his parental heart, and turning suddenly round, he ran 
 up to them, and snatched them to his breast, while they, in 
 turn, loaded him with endearing caresses. At length, 
 tearing himself away, he saw the door close on them 
 for ever, and then fell on his knees and began to pray. 
 The worst struggle was now over, and he prepared to 
 meet his fate with composure. 
 
 In the meantime, it was with difficulty that the sig- 
 natures of the judges to the death-warrant could be 
 obtained : many hesitated to place their names to a 
 document which might cover them and their fami- 
 lies with lasting disgrace and ruin. At length, fifty- 
 nine signed it — Oliver Cromwell being the third.* It is 
 said on pretty good authority, that when he had written 
 his name, he drew the pen across Marten's face, besmear- 
 ing it with ink; which practical joke was returned by the 
 
 * Vide Appendix III. 
 
246 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 latter. This has been brought forward by some, to 
 prove the inhumanity and brutality of Cromwell.* But 
 there are only a few, however, even of his worst ene- 
 mies, who venture to charge him with being inhuman. 
 This singular act might have been committed in a 
 fit of desperation, to throw off the burden which was 
 crushing him to the earth : but more probably to break 
 up the apathy and awe which had fallen on the mem- 
 bers. It was difficult to persuade them to affix their 
 signatures to the sentence : for it was, in fact, commit- 
 ting a deed, the awfulness of which we cannot now 
 appreciate. As Carlyle says : "the truth is, no modern 
 reader can conceive the then atrocity, ferocity, un- 
 speakability, of the act. Alas, if in these irreverent 
 times of ours, all the kings of Europe were to be cut in 
 pieces at one swoop, and flung in heaps in St. Mar- 
 garet's Churchyard on the same day, the emotion would, 
 in strict arithmetical truth, be small in comparison ! 
 We know it not, the atrocity of the English regicides — 
 shall never know it." The regicides felt all this ; and 
 Cromwell, who saw that to flinch or waver then would 
 be utter ruin, may have nerved himself to this sudden 
 buffoonery, to show that he, for one, was willing to risk 
 the consequences; and also start those around him 
 from their sombre mood. That it was the result of 
 mere barbarity, no one but a bigot would affirm. 
 Bloody as his life was, his enemies dare not say that 
 
 * Guizot says, " Cromwell himself, gay, noisy, daring as ever, gave 
 way to his usual coarse buffoonery" — a wholesale statement as false 
 as it is unworthy an impartial historian. 
 
1649.] ATTEMPTS TO SAVE THE KING. 247 
 
 his nature was cruel, even Clarendon clears him from 
 such a charge. 
 
 It was to be expected that strenuous efforts would be 
 made to save the king : but whether the monarchs of 
 Europe did not believe the people would carry things 
 to such an extremity, or disliked to threaten a power 
 which the last few years had given them sufficient 
 cause to fear, not one of them interfered in his behalf. 
 The United Provinces, a republic, alone interposed. 
 His wife, the Prince of Wales, and personal friends, 
 strove nobly to save him. Scotland also sent commis- 
 sioners to Cromwell, protesting against the execution. 
 Lieutenant-General Drummond was present at the in- 
 terview; and afterwards stated that Cromwell entered 
 into a long discourse on the nature of regal power; 
 and " had plainly the better of them at their own 
 weapons and upon their own principles!' Fairfax also 
 resolved to interfere, but knew not how to do it effectu- 
 ally : and Sir John Cromwell, a relative of Oliver, then 
 in the Dutch service, arrived in all haste from the 
 Hague, bringing letters from the Princes of Wales and 
 Orange, offering any conditions Cromwell might impose, 
 if he would spare the king. He hoped to succeed in 
 his mission, from the fact that Oliver had once de- 
 clared he would not allow the royal head to be touched. 
 It is said that he urged on him the disgrace that would 
 attach to his name, if he persisted ; and the honor which 
 would accrue, if he would interpose between Charles 
 and the scaffold. Being somewhat shaken in his resolu- 
 tion, Cromwell desired his cousin to wait till night for 
 
248 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 his answer. In the meantime, he and his friends sought 
 by prayer what the will of the Lord was ; and being 
 assured that the death of the king alone could save 
 England, sent a messenger to Sir John, at midnight, 
 informing him that the Lord had confirmed their deci- 
 sion ; and all further interference would be fruitless. 
 
 There is, doubtless, some truth, and a good deal of 
 error, in this anecdote. That Cromwell and his com- 
 panions prayed, is very probable ; but, that the latter 
 was, for one moment, shaken, or endeavored in any 
 way to avert the sentence, is highly improbable. The 
 attempt would have been madness. The fierce repub- 
 licans who had brought the king to trial, were determined 
 to sacrifice him, and he could not prevent it. Besides, no 
 one ever knew this stern man to swerve from a reso- 
 lution once formed, especially on so momentous a 
 subject as this. 
 
 Another anecdote, showing that Cromwell wrote the 
 order for the execution, because Colonel Huncks dared 
 not do it, rests entirely on the testimony of the latter — 
 who, after the former was dead, and the Stuarts re- 
 stored, had the strongest motives to pretend, that he 
 himself was averse to the warrant. Such testimony 
 should always be taken with distrust. 
 
 But, everything failed to stay the terrible sentence ; 
 and on the 30th of January, the execution took place. 
 The last hours of Charles, were his best ; and he never 
 appeared so much a king, as when he mounted the 
 scaffold. After forgiving his enemies — praying in the 
 presence of the awe-struck multitude, and declaring his 
 
1649.] THE EXECUTION. 249 
 
 confidence that he was going from a corruptible, to an 
 incorruptible, crown, he lay calmly down, and putting 
 aside his clustering hair, himself gave the signal to 
 strike. The next moment, the bleeding head of Charles 
 Stuart was held aloft by a man in a mask,* who ex- 
 claimed, " This is the head of a traitor !" A loud groan 
 from the assembled multitude, was the only response, 
 and the mournful tragedy was over. 
 
 There is another anecdote of Cromwell, connected 
 with this melancholy event, which Hume, and most 
 other historians, have given as true ; that while the exe- 
 cution was going on, Cromwell, Ireton, and Harrison, 
 (some say Ireton and Harrison,) were engaged in 
 prayer with Fairfax, to keep him in ignorance of it till 
 all was over. This piece of knavish hypocrisy has been 
 told so frequently, that it is generally considered a fact. 
 To say nothing of the ridiculous supposition, that Fair- 
 fax did not know the day, nay, even the hour, of the 
 royal execution, when all the world knew it ; such a 
 childish proceeding, on the part of Cromwell and his 
 friends, is too absurd to be entertained for a mo- 
 ment. If, however, any wish for evidence, they will 
 find it in the report of the ambassadors of Holland, 
 to their government, in which they declare, that 
 about twelve o'clock, on the day of the execution, 
 they had an interview with Fairfax, to persuade him, 
 at the last moment, to grant a reprieve if nothing 
 more ; and departed with the hope, that they had suc- 
 
 * The executioner was also masked, and dressed in the guise of 
 a sailor. 
 
250 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ceeded : but, on entering the street, they saw that all 
 the preparations for the catastrophe were made, and 
 the king was expected every moment to appear.* In a 
 few minutes he did appear, and ascended the scaffold ; 
 so that standard historians, in adopting the slander, 
 make out that Cromwell and his friends were hypocriti- 
 caly praying with Fairfax, to conceal the approaching 
 death of the king from him, at the same time the com- 
 missioners from Holland were urging him to make no 
 delay to interpose his power to stay the execution. But, 
 considering all the circumstances in the case — that the 
 death of the king was compared to the crucifixion of 
 Christ ; also, that at the restoration, the greatest libel- 
 lers of Cromwell were the most liberally rewarded — it 
 is not so strange that these false statements have crept 
 into history. The wonder is, that more plausible and 
 more damning ones have not been invented. When 
 malice, hate, and selfishness, not only unrestrained, but 
 fostered into hugest vigor, by a rotten government, can 
 lay no heavier charges on an enemy, than those brought 
 against Cromwell, his character must be pure, straight- 
 forward, and open to an astonishing degree. We ven- 
 ture to say, no other man ever stood in his position, 
 and escaped so lightly. 
 
 There seems good ground for believing that he went 
 to see the king's body after it was deposited in the 
 coffin. Bowtell, a private soldier, who was on guard at 
 the time, says, that Cromwell endeavored to remove the 
 lid with his staff; but, not succeeding, took his (the 
 
 * Vide Appendix XV., to Guizot's English Revolution. 
 
1649.] GAZES ON THE KINg's CORPSE. 251 
 
 soldier's) sword, and with the hilt forced it open, and 
 gazed long and steadily on the corpse. Then, as if 
 speaking to himself, murmured in solemn accents, 
 " This was a well-constituted frame, and promised a long 
 life." Such a scene would be worthy the pencil of the 
 most gifted painter. The stern republican, gazing fix- 
 edly on the body of his dead king! What strange 
 thoughts swept over his soul, as he contemplated the 
 lifeless form in which so lately lay embodied the sove- 
 reign power of England. The past, with its turbulent 
 battle-fields and wild commotions, rushed over his 
 memory, while fathomless abysses opened in the untried 
 future. Through the blood of thousands of men — of 
 nobles, of priests, and last of all, of the king himself — 
 he had waded heavily onward ; and now, what was the 
 next step before him ? Return was hopeless. On he 
 must, at all hazards. With the tide, if still forward — 
 sternly breasting it, if refluent, his course was clear ; 
 but the end, alas! that was veiled in darkness. Per- 
 haps, like the severed trunk before him, he would yet 
 be thus gazed on by his enemies. * 
 
 The king's death sent a thrill of horror over the 
 world. It was a new page opened in its history, which 
 every one trembled to read. At that time, mere am- 
 
 * Bowtell testifies that he interrupted Cromwell in the midst of 
 his reflections, as he gazed on the king, asking him what government 
 they were to have. " The same that there was," he replied ; and still 
 contemplated the lifeless body. Whether Cromwell was a man to 
 brook in those circumstances, so rude an interruption from a private 
 soldier, or, in such a mood, was likely to be interrupted by one who 
 knew his character, I leave others to judge. 
 
252 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 bitious men would not have dared to commit such an 
 act — it needed higher motives — a strong, religious en- 
 thusiasm, ever proclaiming trumpet-tongued, that it 
 was the will of God, and crying, " Woe to him that 
 shrinks in the day of evil !" 
 
 The death of Charles has been almost universally 
 laid at the door of Cromwell, yet, for no other reason 
 that we can see, except, that he eventually mounted to 
 his place. He had less to do with it than almost any 
 other man in the Independent party. Indeed, he seem- 
 ed to have forecast such an event and struggled man- 
 fully to prevent it. He knew, two years before, that 
 the ultra republicans in the army were bent on a re- 
 public and would be satisfied with nothing less than one. 
 It was this knowledge which, as before remarked, 
 prompted him to negotiate with the king, and cling to 
 the hope that he would concede to the proposals made 
 him, and establish the government so seriously threat- 
 ened with total overthrow, until he well nigh lost his 
 hold on the army for ever. He stood up against this 
 terrible under-current of democracy, which was bearing 
 everything to chaos, till he like to have gone down 
 himself in the flood. And, when the second civil war 
 broke out, he was glad to get away from the strife of 
 factions and again meet the enemy in the field. He 
 had but little time while in Wales, or fighting with the 
 Scotch at Preston, to attend to matters around parlia- 
 ment. Every step for its overthrow, and to bring the 
 king to trial, had been taken during his absence. On 
 his return, he saw at once how matters stood — the 
 
1649.] DEFENCE OF HIS COURSE. 253 
 
 crisis had come, and he must act. He threw his in- 
 fluence with his friends and the army, and if he had 
 done otherwise he would have been ten times more 
 a traitor and hypocrite than his enemies endeavor to 
 make him out. True, he found his party violent, but 
 what had made them so ? Things had been pushed to 
 extremities, but w T ho had pushed them ? Not he — not 
 his friends, but his enemies, by being content with 
 nothing less than his and their destruction. Even 
 Bishop Burnet declares that, " Ireton was the person 
 who drove it on (the death of the king), for Cromwell 
 was all the while in some suspense about it. Ireton 
 had the spirit and temper of a Cassius in him, he stuck 
 at nothing that might have turned England to a Com- 
 monwealth." He might have added, that the army 
 drove it on, fully resolved on punishing the "chief de- 
 linquent," as they termed him. It was this that made 
 Cromwell declare in parliament that he w r ould have 
 regarded the man who proposed the deposition of the 
 king as the greatest traitor and rebel in the world; 
 " but since the providence of God had cast this upon 
 them, he could not but submit to providence, though he 
 was not yet prepared to give his advice." The irresisti- 
 ble force of circumstances he construed into a provi- 
 dence. Besides the cavaliers and Presbyterians left 
 him no choice — he must either surrender his army, and 
 his principles, or seize the power they so unjustly wield- 
 ed. Slandered, while absent ; undermined, when in 
 the very act of saving his country at the risk of his 
 ow T n life, he was compelled to turn at bay, and nobly 
 
254 OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 defending himself, endeavor to force his assailants to 
 moderation and justice. Failing in this, he fell in 
 wrath upon them, and his was not a hand to strike 
 twice. His history was that of the army and of the 
 Independent leaders in parliament, so that he is only one 
 among a multitude responsible for the death of the king. 
 
 But was the party, itself, of which he was only a 
 member, guilty of so great a wrong ? "Regicide I" is 
 an ugly epithet, but it sounds much worse, we imagine, 
 in Europe than in this country. The doctrine that 
 " the king can do no wrong," has no adherents here, 
 and is fast getting obsolete in the civilized world. It is 
 curious to hear the outcry made when a prince of the 
 blood falls ; w T hile a thousand men, each better and 
 nobler than he, can be slain and no surprise expressed. 
 Thus, the murder of the Due D'Enghien horrified Chris- 
 tendom, and loaded Bonaparte with opprobrium ; while 
 the attempts to assassinate the latter by the Bourbons 
 shocked no one's sensibilities. His murder would have 
 been a thing of course, and the perpetrator, doubtless, 
 received a rich reward. So, the execution of Charles, 
 who accounted the rights of his people as nothing, was 
 a damning act ; but had he hung Cromwell, his superior 
 both in virtue and intellect, high as Haman, it would 
 have excited the horror of none of these royalist 
 writers. Now, we cannot sympathise in these dis- 
 tinctions — we think, that a whole army of such men as 
 Charles I. or II. had better die than one Cromwell. 
 
 The trial and condemnation of the king, every one 
 will admit, were acts of violence, and done against all 
 
1649.] DEFENCE OF THE REGICIDES. 255 
 
 precedent, and in contempt of all recognised judicial 
 forms. But, it is not to be expected, that revolutionary 
 acts, will be constitutional ones. The question of right 
 and wrong, is to be settled farther back — was the revo- 
 lution itself justifiable? If the oppression and injus- 
 tice were so great, as to demand the resistance of the 
 people, then the character of all after acts is to be 
 determined by the necessities of the case, and not by 
 constitutions or judicial forms. The very term revo- 
 lution pre-supposes the overthrow of these, and the in- 
 stitution of new powers, and new authority, in their 
 places. If the revolution is justifiable, then everything 
 necessary to secure the object for which it was set in 
 motion, is justifiable. Mark, we say "necessary ;" not 
 all that is esteemed so. The overthrow of thrones — 
 kings sent fugitive over the world — the destruction of 
 feudal systems, may seem daring and terrible to loyalty ; 
 but they are matters of course. When once it is 
 settled that a revolution is based on the eternal prin- 
 ciples of truth and justice, and demands nothing but 
 the inalienable rights of man, then its authority is para- 
 mount to all other. Now, we claim all this for the 
 English revolution. First, reformation was sought, and 
 in a legal way — through parliament.* The guarantees 
 and rights demanded, were perfectly just and proper; 
 and if they had been graciously granted, no violence 
 would have followed. • Lords and commons united, 
 and appealed to the constitution and laws of England. 
 Charles, false, treacherous, and oppressive, resisted 
 * A slight recapitulation here, seems necessary. 
 
256 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 their claims — insulted and oppressed the representatives 
 of the people, while in discharge of their sacred duties. 
 Frequent dissolutions, and eleven years of arbitrary 
 rule, were borne with patience, until, at last, the king 
 resorted to arms to carry out his tyrannical purposes. 
 Then, parliament must either retract its principles, 
 forgo its claims, and the members prove false to their 
 oath, and to the people of England, or defend their 
 rights by arms. Thus, reformation passed into revo- 
 lution, or, rather, was forced into it by the obdurate 
 king. The struggle, once commenced, there was no 
 retreating — one or the other must yield. The king 
 would not ; and so the war went on, until his ruin was 
 completed. The former could, at any time, have 
 quenched the flame of civil war, and restored peace 
 by surrendering his foolish prerogatives, and acknow- 
 ledging himself responsible to his subjects ; but the 
 'parliament could not retract, except by proving re- 
 creant to the constitution of England, and the liberty 
 of the people. So that, up to the overthrow of Charles, 
 there can be but one opinion among those who believe 
 in the sovereignty of the people, where lay the rights of 
 the quarrel. 
 
 It is clear, then, that a king who could not be 
 trusted, and would not be just, should be disposed of. 
 Death, or deposition and exile; these were the two 
 alternatives. The latter, undoubtedly, would have been 
 preferable, and perhaps as safe ; for royalty was not 
 extinguished by clipping off one of the branches ; while 
 the hardihood of the act gave a character of despera- 
 
1649.] DEFENCE OP THE REGICIDES. 257 
 
 tion to the revolution, calculated to shake the affec- 
 tion of those who had hitherto defended it. Still we 
 cannot see anything so very criminal in it ; nor discern 
 the force of the nice distinction men make between 
 cutting off the king's head with an axe, or taking him 
 out of the world with a cannon-ball. These very 
 leaders who sat in judgment on their monarch had 
 often met him in battle, and piled the dead around 
 his person. They had been called by the supreme 
 government to bend their strength against him on the 
 tented field, and had sought him through the doubtful 
 fight; and thus through long years of civil war been 
 regicides in the eye of the law. That they should 
 think it no greater wrong to cut off his head than to 
 fire upon him in the open field, ought not to seem so 
 strange. Besides, if a private individual, from mere 
 personal ambition, had trampled on constitutional rights; 
 on parliament ; on the people ; and deluged the realm 
 in blood, as Charles had done, merely to sustain his 
 royal prerogative ; not a tear would have been shed over 
 his grave. So much do outward circumstances affect 
 our perceptions of justice. 
 
 But, on the other hand, Charles was the lawful king of 
 England, and looked upon the violence of his subjects as 
 unnatural and unjustifiable rebellion. He was not a 
 tyrant, like Nero, scorning the happiness and welfare of 
 his people, and intent only on the gratification of his sel- 
 fish passions. He had done what he supposed to be 
 right and proper : for, to him, the preservation of the 
 royal dignity and power was more important than the 
 
258 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 liberties of the people. He was not a traitor ; he was not 
 a debased and sensual man, like the son who succeeded 
 him ; still we cannot but turn with contempt from his 
 character. Always under the influence of weak minds, 
 he violated his solemn promise, and signed the death- 
 warrant of the only really able minister he ever possess- 
 ed, the Earl of Strafford ; and fixed a lasting stain on his 
 honor. Weak and irresolute, he, nevertheless, committed 
 many foolish and rash acts ; and possessed all the dupli- 
 city necessary to constitute an unprincipled statesman, 
 without the shrewdness indispensable to success. False 
 to his friends, and false to his enemies, his own counsel- 
 lors blushed at his hollow-heartedness. Says Clarendon, 
 in a letter to Nicolas, " Mr. Secretary, these stratagems 
 have given me more sad hours than all the misfortunes 
 in war which have befallen the king ; and look like 
 God's anger towards us." He carried his deceit to 
 such an extent, that, in time, nobody would trust him. 
 He is sometimes called a religious man, and claimed as a 
 martyr to Episcopacy ; yet there was more superstition 
 mingled with his religion than with that of Cromwell. 
 He would give £500 to a conjurer, to be informed 
 where he should be safest ; and was more alarmed by 
 the falling of the head of his cane, on his trial, than by 
 the stern aspect of his judges. His love for Episcopacy 
 grew out of his love of monarchy, of which he regarded it 
 a chief support; indeed, to use his own expression, 
 " stronger than that of the army. Yet he went to Scot- 
 land, and attended Presbyterian meetings; and listen- 
 ed respectfully to the long harangues of Presbyterian 
 
1649.] CHARACTER OF CHARLES. 259 
 
 divines, in order to show in what high esteem he held 
 their forms of religion : he even confirmed the Scotch 
 declaration, that to govern the church by arch- 
 bishops and bishops, was contrary to the word of 
 God. We also find him making large promises to 
 the Irish, equivalent to establishing Papacy in Ireland. 
 Indeed, he went so far in his last treaty with the 
 Presbyterians at Newport, that he consented to abol- 
 ish archbishops, deacons, prebends, and canons, and 
 submit to the Presbyterian form of church govern- 
 ment, for three years. And even then, nothing was to be 
 be restored to these bishops but the power of ordination ; 
 and that to be used in connexion with the advice of 
 the Presbytery. Finally, he consented to renounce the 
 Book of Common Prayer, asking only the liberty of using 
 some other liturgy in his own chapel.* These were the 
 concessions declared by parliament to be sufficient for 
 the basis of a settlement of the nation ; and nothing but 
 the violence of the army prevented them from being 
 acted upon. Charles, therefore, would have been com- 
 pelled to sanction what his defenders would consider, 
 now, a betrayal of the church ; or acknowledge himself 
 perjured in the sight of the world. The summary 
 manner in which a third party disposed both of king 
 and parliament, alone saved him from making this 
 exhibition of himself. Now, standing by the church ;, 
 and now, yielding to the demands of the bigoted Pres- 
 byterians ; and again exciting the hopes of the Catho- 
 lics ; he furnishes the most pitiable spectacle of a man 
 * Vide Hume. 
 
260 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 without faith, and a king without a conscience, 
 we have ever witnessed. Those who claim such 
 a champion forget all the king would have done, 
 had not death cut short his career. Sympathy, rather 
 than principle, has converted him into a martyr. A 
 martyr he indeed died — not to the church, but to the 
 love of arbitrary power. Yet withal, he was a weak 
 rather than a bad man ; and excites our contempt, more 
 than hatred. He wrought his own ruin; and forced 
 the republicans to every act they committed against 
 him, but the last. That was impolitic and wrong : but 
 who can expect years of exasperation to end, in the 
 moment of triumph, in moderate justice ? Sad and mel- 
 ancholy as was the king's fate, it was not without its 
 lesson. That, together with the execution of Louis 
 XVI, has stood, and still stands, as a perpetual warning 
 to monarchs who would trample on the rights of their 
 subjects. The scaffold of Charles I. and the guillotine 
 of Louis XVI. are the ghosts which at this day frighten 
 the despots of Europe from their oppressions. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CAMPAIGN IN IRELAND FROM 1649 TO MAY, 1650. 
 
 Establishment of a Republic — Milton Chosen Secretary of the Execu- 
 tive Council — The Levellers — Cromwell Appointed to Command 
 the Expedition to Ireland — Insurrection Quelled by Him — Pomp 
 and SpJendor of His Departure — Marriage of His Son Richard- 
 Arrives at Dublin — Cruelties of the Irish — Storming and Mas- 
 sacre of Drogheda — Of Wexford — History of His Movements — Re- 
 called to Resist the Scotch Invasion — Character of the Campaign — 
 Defence of Cromwell — Final Settlement of Ireland. 
 
 The dispersion of parliament by the army, and the 
 execution of the king, rendered any compromise of the 
 republicans with the ro} T alists, impossible. The revo- 
 lution could no longer stand still, and negotiate — it 
 must go forward or downward. Heretofore, men's 
 minds had been too much engaged in the struggle, to 
 forecast clearly what the state of things would be, 
 when these mighty obstacles in the way of progress 
 should be removed. But now, as the smoke of the 
 conflict cleared away, they saw what had been done: — 
 royalty had disappeared — a republic become inevitable, 
 while Cromwell, as chief of the army, was the actual 
 ruler of England. 
 
 Immediate action was, therefore, necessary ; and, on 
 the very day the king's execution took place, the com- 
 mons resumed their sittings, and voted that the post 
 
262 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 should be delayed till . the next day morning, and 
 the trumpets, in the meantime, be sounded through 
 London, declaring those traitors who should proclaim 
 Charles II., or any other person, king of England. The 
 House of Lords also met, and sent a message to the 
 commons, proposing to consult with them upon a plan 
 of government. They however, paid no attention to 
 the message or the messengers; and allowed the lat- 
 ter to stand unheeded, at the door, until wearied out, 
 they returned to the lords. Message after message 
 was sent, until, at length, about a week after (on 
 the 6th of February), the peers of England succeeded 
 in attracting the notice of their haughty rivals. It was 
 moved and carried, "That the House of Peers was 
 useless, dangerous, and ought to be abolished ; and that 
 an act be brought in for that purpose." The lords 
 received this decision while in session ; and after hav- 
 ing heard prayers, and disposed of a rectory, adjourned 
 to next morning : but, they never met again, till 
 Charles II. ascended the throne. 
 
 The next day, " kingship" was abolished, by a de- 
 liberate vote; and immediately afterwards, in accord- 
 ance with the motion of Marten, the king's statues, at 
 the Royal Exchange, and other places, were torn down ; 
 and the day following, an inscription placed on their 
 pedestals — " Exit tyrannus regum ultimus" — " The ty- 
 rant, the last of the ki?igs, is gone ;" and beneath it, 
 "Anno libertatis Angliccs restitutce primo. Anno 
 Domini, 1648-9. 
 
 The government of England was then settled on the 
 
1649.] THE COMMONWEALTH. 263 
 
 basis of a republic, and the decree sent abroad over 
 Europe. Marten next introduced a bill for the sale of 
 the royal property — lands, houses, regalia, furniture, 
 jewels, paintings, &c. France, Spain, Sweden, and the 
 Spanish Netherlands, purchased most of them. On the 
 9th, the courts of law w r ere arranged, the great seal 
 broken, and the new one substituted. The next step 
 w T as still more important, viz., the formation of an exe- 
 cutive-council, to take the place of the king. It was 
 composed of forty members, who were to hold their 
 places for a year. Among them, w T e find the names of 
 Eradshaw, Fairfax, Cromwell, Marten, Ludlow, White- 
 locke, and others, who had been leaders in the last great 
 movements. Bradshaw was made president ; and John 
 Milton, his kinsman, chosen secretary for foreign lan- 
 guages. The poet and the scholar, thus became a part 
 of the republic of England. 
 
 The first step was to settle the religious government. 
 This was done by retaining the Presbyterian form, 
 after depriving it of all temporal power. In a spirit of 
 true charity, the episcopal clergy were allowed a por- 
 tion of the tithes, and some toleration was shown to- 
 wards the Papists. 
 
 It was no slight task which these severe republicans 
 had taken upon themselves. A commonwealth, torn by 
 internal feuds, distracted by conflicting theories, and 
 filled with discontented men, was not easily to be kept 
 steady and firm by persons without the sanction of regal 
 authority, or the reverence rendered to legitimate power. 
 
 True, such men as Cromwell, Ire ton, Vane, and 
 
264 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Marten, commanded respect as well as fear; but the 
 elements around them were too wild and stormy, to 
 subside at a breath. Soon disturbances arose among 
 the levellers and radicals, to whom a republican govern- 
 ment was not liberty enough, and who wished a sort of 
 community-system, or a return to a state of absolute 
 freedom. Lilburn — restless, Jacobinical — living in a 
 semi-frenzied state, and unable to keep his tongue or 
 pen still, brought out pamphlets, called " England's 
 New Chains Discovered," that is, its new government; 
 and " The Hunting of the Foxes from Triploe Heath to 
 Whitehall, by Five Small Beagles ;" or the chasing of 
 Cromwell, and his coadjutors, from their grand rendez- 
 vous, previous to the first march of the army on Lon- 
 don, to their assumption of the government by these 
 insignificant levellers. He, however, soon found it was 
 no fox he had to deal with, and that " England's chains" 
 w r ere, indeed, heavy. 
 
 The great danger was from this radical party, which 
 embraced all the strange sects which now made Eng- 
 land like a foaming cauldron. They first denounced 
 the king, and then, when the parliament, with whom 
 they acted, usurped his place, denounced parliament, 
 helping Cromwell to curb it; — and, now, when the 
 latter attempted to wield the power they had put 
 in his hands, they turned fiercely on him. Like the 
 French Jacobins, there was no limit to the liberty, or, 
 rather, no bounds to the license they demanded. 
 
 At this time, too, there sprung up a literary war. 
 The hurricane had passed, and men began to discuss 
 
1649.] LITERARY WAR. 265 
 
 the events which had transpired. The royalists sent 
 forth " Royal Sighs ;" and, weeping over the death 
 of the king, called on all good men to weep with them. 
 Milton, on the other hand, opened his batteries — " Ico- 
 noclaste, the Breaker of Images," followed by " Biting 
 Sarcasms on Salmatius for His Defence of the King/' 
 exhibited both the spirit of the times and the almost 
 fierce republicanism of the poet. 
 
 In the meantime, however, the new government 
 moved steadily forward. Duke Hamilton, who was so 
 terribly beaten at Preston; the gay Earl of Holland; the 
 stout Lord Capel, the first who rose in parliament to 
 complain of grievances, were condemned to death. 
 
 Opposition being thus overawed, and the Common- 
 wealth settling into permanent shape, public attention 
 was naturally directed to distracted Ireland. Ever 
 since the dreadful massacre of 1641, a perpetual war 
 had been carried on between the Protestants and 
 Catholics. This, Charles, while alive, had fostered by 
 throwing the weight of his influence on the side of the 
 Catholics. The parliament, between its struggle with 
 the English cavaliers and the Scotch Presbyterians, had 
 use for all its troops, and could not succor to any great 
 extent the oppressed brethren of Ireland ; but now it 
 was resolved to end the murderous war, and press to 
 the lips of the Papists the cup of trembling they had so 
 long made the Protestants drink to the dregs. Ormond, 
 who still acted as the king's lieutenant-general there, 
 had proclaimed Charles II. king, and the prince was 
 about to start for Dublin . 
 12 
 
266 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 An army was, therefore, immediately voted for Ire- 
 land; and when the commander-in-chief came to be 
 selected, all eyes were turned on Cromwell, and he was 
 unanimously chosen. He professed some surprise at 
 his nomination ; and addressing the House of Commons 
 spoke of his great unworthiness and inability to under- 
 take such a charge. Whitelocke says, he delayed his 
 answer two weeks, and requested that two officers 
 might be selected from each corps to meet him at 
 Whitehall in prayer. He finally consented to accept 
 the appointment, though the motive which prompted 
 him to do so, he said, was the "great difficulty which 
 appeared in the expedition." Those who charge Crom- 
 well with ambition and hypocrisy, would do well to 
 explain the motives which induced him to take com- 
 mand of this war. The government in which he was 
 the chief man had just become settled, and he had but 
 to remain and manage his part well to secure the entire 
 power. Military renown could not have influenced 
 him, for he had nothing to gain, but everything to lose, 
 in this war with a semi-barbarous people. He had 
 reached the highest eminence as a military leader ; and 
 the subjugation of the insurgents, who would never 
 meet him in fair field-fight, could not add to his fame, 
 while defeat would peril all he had gained, and hurl him 
 at once from the elevation he occupied. Nothing, that 
 we can see, but the good of his country, and the welfare 
 of Protestantism, urged him to this undertaking. 
 
 No sooner was his resolution taken than he began to 
 make his preparations with that energy and wisdom 
 
1649.] MUTINY IN THE ARMY. 267 
 
 which distinguished all his acts. He demanded at 
 once, 12,000 horse and foot, £100,000 ready money, an 
 ample supply of provisions and ammunition, and that 
 Ireton should accompany him as second in command. 
 His title was to be Lord Lieutenant-General and 
 General Governor of Ireland. 
 
 On the 20th of April, the council of the whole army 
 met to decide by lot what regiments should constitute 
 this army of twelve thousand, destined for so hazardous 
 a service. After spending some time in prayer, tickets 
 were placed in a hat, and drawn out by a child. The 
 officers of the twenty-eight regiments on whom the lot 
 fell, rejoiced that they were once more to follow their 
 great leader to the field of battle ; but many of the 
 soldiers murmured. Besides, the radicalism of Lilburn 
 and his friends had pervaded a portion of the army, 
 and a week after the meeting of the council of officers, 
 a mutiny broke out in a troop of Wh alley's regiment 
 quartered at Bishopgate. Cromwell and Fairfax imme- 
 diately hastened thither, and arrested fifteen of the 
 ring-leaders, five of whom were condemned, and one 
 shot. 
 
 A week from this time, on the 1st of May, Richard 
 Cromwell was finally married. The negotiations 
 spoken of before, were so protracted and delayed, that 
 the parties never reached a settlement until this late 
 period. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 9th, Cromwell reviewed his 
 troops in Hyde Park, and saw signs of discontent, 
 which he strove to allay by argument and reason. 
 
268 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Three days after, Lilburn and his friends were locked 
 up in the Tower. Immediately the flames of rebellion 
 burst forth in several shires, and at head-quarters. 
 First, in Oxfordshire, a party of two hundred took the 
 field, demanding more perfect freedom, and the libera- 
 tion of Lilburn and his friends — then one of a thousand 
 at Salisbury. Cromwell's far-reaching mind had antici- 
 pated this, and he had, therefore, caused the ringleaders 
 to be shut up in the Tower, so that they could not 
 harangue the men as they did in the first mutiny. 
 Immediately on the reception of this news, he and 
 Fairfax started off. They travelled all Sunday ; and the 
 mutineers hearing of their approach, fled northward. 
 But these resolute generals followed swiftly after — riding 
 on Monday, near fifty miles. The fugitives, by swim- 
 ming a river, at length reached Bur ford, where, deeming 
 themselves secure, they turned out their horses to feed, 
 and laid down to rest. But at midnight, Oliver, with 
 his fierce riders, burst into the town, and seized nearly 
 the whole of them. A court-martial was called on the 
 spot, and several were tried and condemned. Cornet 
 Thompson, brother to Capt. Thompson the ringleader, 
 was first shot, repenting, but too late, his crime. Two 
 corporals followed, defying their foes to the last. The 
 fourth, Cornet Dean, asked pardon and was spared, and 
 the execution was stayed. Cromwell then addressed the 
 remaining mutineers on the turpitude of their conduct. 
 They confessed their guilt with tears, and soon after 
 joined their regiments, and marched cheerfully for Ire- 
 land. Captain Thompson himself was, in a few days 
 
1649.] DEPARTS FOR IRELAND. 269 
 
 hunted down, and shot while refusing to yield ; and the 
 insurrection brought to an end. Like a thunderbolt, 
 "shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it 
 reaches," Oliver smote this incipient rebellion to the 
 heart, and gave the frenzied radicals to understand what 
 kind of a master they had elected over themselves. 
 Returning through Oxford, he and Fairfax were there 
 received with great eclat. Dinners were given by the 
 magistrates and people, while the college conferred 
 honors on them and their officers. The commons 
 passed a vote of thanks, and a day of general thanks- 
 giving was appointed. 
 
 Having thus summarily settled affairs in the army, 
 Cromwell prepared to leave for Ireland. The 10th of 
 July was appointed for his departure, and hence, that 
 day was set apart for fasting and prayer, by the officers. 
 He and his friends assembled at Whitehall, where 
 three ministers solemnly invoked the blessing of God on 
 his banner. After they had finished, Cromwell, Goff, 
 and Harrison, in their turn, expounded the Scriptures, 
 and preached as well as if the hands of the presbytery 
 had been laid upon them. Not an oath was heard 
 among the officers — prayer, and the singing of psalms, 
 occupied the day ; for they were going forth, like the 
 army of Israel, to smite, under God, the enemies of His 
 Church. 
 
 This strange preparation for a campaign being ended, 
 Cromwell, about five o'clock in the evening, in the 
 pomp that became a lord-general, and the Common- 
 wealth of England, took his departure. In a splendid 
 
270 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 coach, drawn by six light grey steeds — beautiful Flan- 
 ders' mares — surrounded by his life-guard of eighty 
 young men, all commanders or esquires, in rich uniform, 
 and followed by a crowd of coaches, he started for 
 Windsor, on his way to Bristol. Never was a nobler 
 life-guard seen, than this band of yoijth, who, cased in 
 shining armor, and mounted on noble steeds, galloped 
 after the carriage of Oliver. His colors were white : 
 and, as they shook in the breeze, a hundred trumpets 
 gave forth their loudest blast, till the city reeled under 
 the joyful din. As the splendid cortege swept on 
 through the streets of London, long and deafening 
 shouts rolled heavenward, drowning even the clangor 
 of the trumpets. " Now have at you, my Lord Ormond, 
 you will have men of gallantry to encounter, who, to 
 overcome, will be honor sufficient, and to be beaten by 
 them will be no great blemish to their reputation — if 
 you say, " Caesar or nothing," they say, " a republic or 
 nothing."* 
 
 On the fourth day after his departure, he arrived at 
 Bristol, where he was received with great pomp and 
 ceremony. While here, notwithstanding the pressure 
 of business, he found time to write an affectionate let- 
 ter to the father of Richard's wife, with whom the 
 young couple were then staying. In it, he speaks in 
 the kindest terms, of his new daughter-in-law, saying, 
 that he expects she will write him often ; and asks 
 the father to counsel his son, saying, " / wish he may be 
 
 * Vide Whitelocke and the Mod. Int., a newspaper of the day; as 
 quoted in the " British Statesmen." 
 
1649.] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN. 271 
 
 serious — the times require it." Richard, and his mother, 
 joined him afterwards, and remained till near the 
 time of his departure. While he lay at Milford Haven, 
 on board the ship John, he wrote, also, to his daughter 
 Dorothy, in the same simple, affectionate strain which 
 characterized all his letters to his children. Thus did 
 this strange man, terrible as death, and unrelenting as 
 doom, in the presence of the enemy, unbend to those 
 he loved, and pour forth all those tender feelings which 
 made him so kind a parent. These striking contrasts 
 "remind us" (as Macauly says of Milton's poetry) "of 
 the miracles of Alpine scenery. Nooks and dells, beau- 
 tiful as fairy land, are embosomed in its most rugged 
 elevations. The roses and the myrtle bloom unchilled 
 on the verge of the avalanche" 
 
 While waiting for a fair wind, Cromwell received 
 good news from Dublin. Ormond, in the course of 
 the past year, had driven Monk out of Ireland, and 
 subdued nearly three-fourths of the entire island. 
 Deny, in the North, and Dublin the capital, still held 
 out ; though he besieged the latter place with 19,000 
 men, while 10,000 more were marching to re-inforce 
 him. General Jones, parliamentary major-general, 
 occupied the city, at this* time, with only a little over 
 5,000 troops. But many of these being re-inforcements 
 lately sent by Cromwell, he ventured to make a bold 
 sally ; and falling on this overwhelming force, rolled it 
 back in disorder, and drove it, broken and shattered 
 to pieces, in wild flight before him. Two thousand 
 
272 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 five hundred prisoners, and four thousand slain, were 
 the fruits of this astonishing victory. 
 
 This was a good omen to Cromwell ; and when he 
 arrived in Dublin (the 15th of August), he was wel- 
 comed with salvos of cannon, and loud acclamations, 
 from the assembled thousands. The people blocked his 
 carriage ; and, pausing in their midst, he addressed them 
 kindly, promising — Providence assisting him — to deliver 
 them from oppression. The crowd answered with 
 shouts, saying, "We will live and die with you." 
 
 He remained here two weeks, to allow his men to 
 recruit, and to arrange the plan of the campaign. 
 
 It is impossible to give any adequate idea of the con- 
 dition of Ireland, at this period, or, of the feeling that 
 prevailed in England towards the Irish Papists. This 
 unfortunate island, which seems to have been reserved 
 as the chosen stage on which every form and degree of 
 human suffering might be exhibited; had been, for 
 years, a prey to the most bitter feuds, between the 
 Catholics and Protestants. But, at this time, the Catho- 
 lics and royalist Presbyterians had all united, under 
 Ormond, to put Charles II. on the throne. Never, be- 
 fore, had the opposition been so powerful, nor the 
 territory to be reclaimed by the parliament, so exten- 
 sive. 
 
 That one may see with what kind of spirit Oliver 
 and his enthusiastic Puritans entered on this contest, 
 and obtain, also, some insight into the reasons why 
 they smote with such terrible vengeance, we will quote 
 a passage, as given by d'Aubigne, from Sir J. Temple's 
 
1649.] MASSACRE OF PROTESTANTS. 273 
 
 Irish Rebellion: "The Catholics burnt the houses of 
 the Protestants, turned them out naked in the midst of 
 winter, and drove them like herds of swine before 
 them. If ashamed of their nudity, and desirous of 
 seeking shelter from the rigor of a remarkably severe 
 season, these unhappy wretches took refuge in a barn, 
 and concealed themselves under the straw, the -rebels 
 instantly set fire to it, and burned them alive. At other 
 times, they were bound, without clothing, to be drowned 
 in rivers ; and if, on the road, they did not move quick 
 enough, they were urged forward at the point of the 
 pike. When they reached the river, or the sea, they 
 were precipitated into it in bands of several hundreds ; 
 which is, doubtless, an exaggeration. If these poor 
 wretches rose to the surface of the water, men were 
 stationed along the brink, to plunge them in again with 
 the butts of their muskets, or to fire at, and kill them. 
 Husbands were cut to pieces in presence of their wives; 
 wives and virgins were abused in the sight of their 
 nearest relations ; and infants of seven or eight years 
 were hung before the eyes of their parents. Nay, the 
 Irish even went so far, as to teach their own children 
 to strip and kill the children of the English, and dash 
 out their brains against the stones. Numbers of Pro- 
 testants were buried alive — as many as seventy in one 
 trench. An Irish priest, named MacOdeghan, captured 
 forty or fifty Protestants, and persuaded them to abjure 
 their religion, on a promise of quarter. After their 
 abjuration, he asked them if they believed that Jesus 
 Christ was bodily present in the host, and that the pope 
 12* 
 
274 OLIVER CROM W ELL. 
 
 was the head of the church? And, on their replying 
 in the affirmative, he said, " ' Now, then, you are in a 
 very good faith ;' and, for fear they should relapse into 
 heresy, cut all their throats." If there be no exag- 
 geration in this account, the effect of gathering into 
 one mass the evils and the violence scattered over so 
 many years, has the same effect as if there were. Still, 
 after making all due allowance, what a frightful picture 
 does this present of the state of Ireland; and with 
 what a fierce spirit of retaliation, must such acts of 
 cruelty have filled the enthusiastic Puritans, already too 
 intolerant! ' With this statement before him, one may 
 imagine why Cromwell entered so ferociously on his 
 work. 
 
 STORMING OF DROGHEDA. 
 
 Everything being ready, Cromwell put a portion of 
 his army, some 4,000 men, in motion towards Drogheda; 
 into which Ormond had thrown three thousand of his 
 choicest troops. Behind thick walls, defended by strong 
 entrenchments and abundance of heavy artillery, the 
 latter thought he could keep at bay any force that 
 might be sent against him. 
 
 Oliver appeared before the place on the 3d of Sep- 
 tember, and immediately began to land his heavy siege 
 guns and erect his batteries. In six days, everything 
 being completed, he hoisted the red flag, and opened his 
 fire. All that day he rained his shot upon the walls 
 and towers with but little effect. The next morning 
 
1649.] STORM OF DROGHEDA. 275 
 
 the fire was commenced with renewed vigor from two 
 batteries, which were planted within point-blank range 
 of the east and south walls. All day long it was a 
 continued peal of thunder around the town ; and before 
 night the thick mason-work began to crumble, and huge 
 gaps to appear, through which resolute men might 
 storm. The besieged, however, did not witness the 
 gradual progress made by the enemy without putting 
 forth every effort to render it useless. Where the walls 
 began to give way strong intrenchments were thrown 
 up, from behind which a terrible flank fire could be 
 thrown on the columns that might clear the breaches. 
 But Cromwell no sooner saw "two reasonable good 
 breaches" made, than he formed the storming parties ; 
 and at five o'clock the trumpets sounded the assault, 
 and a thousand desperate men sprung forward. In an 
 instant every gun that could be brought to bear upon 
 them opened its fire, and it rained a horrible tempest on 
 the head of the column. But pressing in the track of 
 their daring leaders, they pushed furiously on — shouting, 
 through the murderous fire — and gallantly mounted the 
 breach and entered it. But met by the strong intrench- 
 ments, and swept by the steady fire of the enemy 
 behind them and from within a church that flanked 
 the entrance ; they hesitated, wavered, and finally stag- 
 gered backward through the breach, leaving it filled 
 with the dead. Undismayed, Cromwell formed a 
 second column of attack, and kindling their enthusiasm 
 by his fiery words, again sent them forward. Gallantly 
 advancing they poured through the rent walls, and 
 
276 OLTVER CROMWELL. 
 
 charged desperately on those bloody intrenchments, but 
 in vain : — shattered, and broken, and scourged into 
 madness by the tremendous volleys, they also, recoiled. 
 All the lion in Cromwell was now roused as he saw his 
 favorite troops the second time borne back, disheartened 
 and disorderly, from the walls. What ! be beaten at 
 the outset, and not only suffer a shameful defeat, but 
 give the enemy the great moral power which a victory 
 then obtained always confers ? No ; he who had thus 
 far gained every battle he fought, was not to let the tide 
 of his fortunes turn here, especially when the hosts of 
 the Lord were marshalled against those of Belial. 
 Forgetting the lord-general in the fiery captain, he 
 rallied his men the third time, and with his countenance 
 lighted up with that fearful expression it always wore 
 in battle, he placed himself at their head, and pointing for- 
 ward with his sword, summoned them to follow. Nothing 
 could exceed the enthusiasm of the soldiers when they 
 found Cromwell at their head : shoulder to shoulder, they 
 crowded joyfully to the breach, and rushing through it 
 in one wild torrent, swept those strong intrench- 
 ments, like the breath of the destroying angel. Making 
 good their position there and in the church, so as to 
 command the entrance, the cavalry was ordered up. 
 The trumpets sounded, and over the broken wall and 
 over the dead bodies the fearless Ironsides plunged for- 
 ward, and forming in the streets drove everything before 
 them. A portion of the garrison retreated into the 
 Mill-Mount, a fortification perched on a high hill and 
 thoroughly defended by strong works and heavy pali- 
 
1649.] THE MASSACRE. 277 
 
 sades. But nothing could now stay the excited troops, 
 and beating down the palisades — climbing over the 
 walls — they made their way into the centre of the fort, 
 hewing down all who obstructed their passage. Then 
 commenced one of the most terrible scenes of war. 
 Roused by the resistance he had met with, Cromwell 
 ordered his troops to give no quarter to those who were 
 found with arms in their hands. All that night the 
 work of death went on. Nothing was heard but the 
 volleys of musketry' — the fierce gallop of horsemen — the 
 clash of weapons, and shouts and shrieks of men. The 
 prayer for mercy was of no avail ; and like reapers in some 
 harvest field, the Puritan host swept through the streets 
 of Drogheda, slaying on the right hand and on the 
 left. Before the morning sun rose on the smoking 
 town, two thousand had passed from the scene of 
 slaughter to another world. Heaps of corpses blocked 
 the way, and the blood flowed in rills through the 
 streets. Nor did this end the work of destruction. 
 About a hundred of the garrison fled into another part 
 of the town, and took refuge in the steeple of St. 
 Peter's Church. Cromwell summoned them to sur- 
 render, and they refusing, he ordered the steeple to be 
 fired, and in a short time the lofty spire was wrapped 
 in flames. The shrieks and cries of the burning multi- 
 tude within were enough to move the hardest heart, but 
 no mercy was extended. The wretched inmates expired 
 in the most excruciating agony ; and at length the 
 steeple of the church crumbled above them, burying 
 them in one common ruin. 
 
278 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Thus ended the second day's slaughter. The third 
 morning, two other strong towers, into which the re- 
 maining fugitives had fled, were summoned to yield; 
 but a refusal being sent, and shots fired on the 
 soldiery, they were closely invested. Over a hundred 
 in one tower finally surrendered, when every officer 
 was knocked on the head, and every tenth soldier slain. 
 The rest, together with those of the other tower, to 
 whom mercy was shown, were shipped to the Barbadoes 
 as slaves ; — only thirty escaped this dreadful massacre ; 
 and but one officer lived to tell the tale to the Irish 
 army : — even the friars fell before the fury of the soldiers. 
 
 We have sketched only the outlines of this revolting 
 scene, which lasted several days ; for the horrid details 
 would freeze the blood ; but thus much w T e felt bound to 
 say, so as not to cover up, in any way, so great an 
 enormity. Cromwell himself attempts no disguise, and 
 in writing to the government an account of it, he says, 
 after speaking of carrying the intrenchments : " Being 
 thus entered, we refused them quarter, having the day 
 before summoned the town. / believe we put to the sword 
 the whole number of the defendants. I do not think 
 thirty of the whole number escaped with their lives. 
 Those that did are in safe custody for the Barbadoes." 
 He concludes this singular declaration with " 1 wish that 
 all honest men may give the glory of this to God alone, to 
 whom, indeed, the praise of this mercy belongs." What 
 a shocking expression this is to wind up a massacre 
 with. The Lord, we opine, did not thank him for the 
 compliment ; and would much rather prefer " the un- 
 
1649.] HIS VICTORIOUS MARCH. 279 
 
 worthy instrument" should take all " the glory" to 
 himself. His chaplain, Hugh Peters, took the same 
 view of it, and went to the chief church, where he 
 solemnly offered up thanks to God for the slaughter of 
 his enemies. Parliament also decreed that a day of 
 thanksgiving should be kept in honor of this great 
 mercy. 
 
 The fate of Drogheda struck the Irish people with 
 dread. The day of vengeance had arrived ; and the 
 atrocities they had practiced on the helpless Protestants 
 were now to be visited upon their own heads. Cromwell 
 — resolved to bring the Irish war to a speedy termina- 
 tion, followed up this victory by those rapid movements 
 which distinguished his last campaign in England. 
 The neighboring towns of Dundalk and Trim surren- 
 dered without the least resistance ; — the garrison of the 
 latter, in their hasty flight, leaving all their artillery 
 behind them. 
 
 He then returned to Dublin, but after resting there a 
 few days, started southward. About fourteen miles 
 from the city, he came upon a garrison stationed in Car- 
 rick, or Killencarrick, who fled at his approach. Leav- 
 ing a company to defend the place, he pressed forward, 
 and marching through a desolate country, came to the 
 river Doro and the strongly-fortified castle of Arcklow, 
 the ancient seat of the family of Ormond. Struck with 
 terror, the garrison fled without attempting a defence, 
 and Cromwell pursued his triumphant march. At Lim- 
 erick, on his way to Wexford, he found another strong 
 castle and garrison ; but the soldiers, having fired the 
 
280 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 town, fled. The castle of Ferns fell next, without 
 a blow ; and after it, Enniscarthy, where there were a 
 strong castle and the largest monastery of Franciscan 
 friars in all Ireland. Leaving small garrisons to hold 
 these places, he kept on, until, on the 3d of October, the 
 Avails of the rich and strong town of Wexford arose 
 before him. 
 
 STORMING OF WEXFORD. 
 
 On the other side of the river lay Ormond, with over 
 three thousand troops ; but they marched away, leav- 
 ing it to the tender mercies of the Puritan army. Oli- 
 ver immediately sent a summons to the governor to sur- 
 render. The latter, in reply, asked till the next day at 
 twelve o'clock, to confer with the major and the officers, 
 proposing, in the meantime, a cessation of arms. Crom- 
 well replied, that he would expect his answer the next 
 day at twelve o'clock; but, in the meantime, should 
 keep busy. His answer was laconic enough ; and, his 
 reasons for carrying on hostilities during the conference, 
 were best known to himself. He says, "Because our 
 tents are not so good covering as your houses, and for 
 other reasons, I cannot agree to a cessation." Acting 
 on this declaration, he sent General Jones, with a body 
 of horse and foot, to take a fort at the mouth of the har- 
 bor ; which was speedily done, by the dragoons alone — 
 the governor fleeing in a boat to a frigate lying within 
 cannon shot of the shore. Some seamen of the par- 
 liamentary fleet, having entered the fort soon after the 
 
1649.] STORM OF WEXFORD. 281 
 
 dragoons took possession of it, turned seven cannon 
 which had been left behind, on the frigate, in such a 
 well-directed fire, that she soon struck her colors. 
 Another vessel, not knowing what had happened, com- 
 ing to her help, was also captured. 
 
 In the meantime, a reinforcement of five hundred 
 infantry having been thrown into the town, the gov- 
 ernor concluded not to send any reply to Cromwell; 
 whereupon the latter planted his batteries against the 
 castle standing outside the walls, on the north-east side 
 of the place, and began to play upon it with " the whole 
 strength of his artillery." After a hundred shot had 
 been thrown, " the governor's stomach came down ;" 
 and, notwithstanding there was a rampart of earth 
 within the walls, fifteen feet thick, on which cannon- 
 balls could have no effect, and nearly a hundred guns 
 lined the works, he offered to surrender. But the terms 
 did not at all suit Cromwell, who called them " abom- 
 inable;" and prepared to carry the place by storm. 
 The castle, however — fair terms being given it — sur- 
 rendered, without farther resistance ; and the soldiers, 
 rushing into it with shouts, hoisted their flag on the 
 summit. The troops who manned the walls of the 
 town, no sooner heard the loud huzzas of the repub- 
 lican soldiers, and saw them crowding the top of the 
 castle, than they fled within the ramparts. Taking ad- 
 vantage of this sudden panic, the officers hastily formed 
 storming parties, who, with ladders in their hands, 
 rushed furiously on the walls, and climbing over them, 
 poured into the streets. When they reached the mar- 
 
282 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ket-place, they found the enemy drawn up in firm order, 
 who received them with a volley, and, for awhile, stoutly 
 held their ground. But nothing could resist the infu- 
 riated soldiery — rushing resolutely on the levelled pikes, 
 they broke the ranks in pieces, and then began the 
 work of slaughter. Three hundred succeeded in reach- 
 ing two boats, into which they leaped, and pushed from 
 shore; but, the boats being overladen, sank with all 
 on board. The scenes of Drogheda were here enacted 
 over again; and men, women, and children, fell in 
 indiscriminate slaughter. Two thousand corpses lay 
 piled in the streets and market-place. 
 
 Wexford was a wealthy and prosperous place ; and 
 hence furnished a rich booty to the soldiers. Among 
 the spoils which fell into the hands of the republicans 
 were three ships of war — two of twenty, and one of 
 thirty guns — besides several trading vessels. The con- 
 duct of the soldiers in this storm, was ferocious and 
 cruel in the extreme, but, a single paragraph in Crom- 
 well's despatch goes far to palliate, if not excuse, it ; 
 and shows in what a spirit of vengeance, they fell on 
 the inhabitants. In speaking of two cases of cruelty 
 which had formerly occurred there, he says, "About 
 seven or eight score of poor Protestants, w T ere, by them, 
 (the papists,) put into an old vessel; which being, as some 
 say, bulged by them, the vessel sunk, and they were all 
 presently drowned in the harbor." " The other in- 
 stance was thus — they put divers poor Protestants into 
 a chapel, where they were famished to death." "It is 
 on this account," he declares, " that God, by an .unex- 
 
1649.] TAKES ROSS. 283 
 
 pected Providence in His righteous justice, brought a 
 just judgment upon them." 
 
 Leaving Wexford under the command of Colonel 
 Cooke he marched against Ross on the 17th of 
 October, situated on the river Barrow, and garrisoned 
 by a thousand men. He sat down before it with only 
 three cannon, and summoned it to surrender.' In the 
 meanwhile, as was his invariable custom, he began to 
 plant his batteries, and make preparation for a storm. 
 Ormond was on the other side of the river, and sent 
 over a re-inforcement of fifteen hundred men. 
 
 But, it made no difference to Cromwell, whether it 
 was fifteen hundred, or five thousand; he had deter- 
 mined Ross should fall; and, on the 14th, opened his 
 battery. This brought a reply from the governor, who 
 offered to capitulate, provided the lord-general would 
 grant him favorable terms. The latter replied, that he 
 might march away with his troops, with drums beating 
 and colors flying; — and that the property and lives of 
 the inhabitants should be protected. This was written 
 amid the roar of cannon, which, notwithstanding the 
 request of the governor, that hostilities should cease 
 while negotiations were pending, kept thundering on 
 the walls. Oliver had no time to spare ; and would 
 admit of no cessation of arms. "Surrender!" was 
 his constant demand, enforcing it, in the meantime, 
 with his artillery. 
 
 Thus, while the governor was pondering on the con- 
 ditions offered him, a fearful breach had been opened 
 
284 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 in the walls; and a storming party was already in 
 column, waiting for the signal to rush to the assault. 
 
 The governor, seeing how matters stood, sent word 
 that he would surrender the place, on the terms pro- 
 posed, provided he was allowed to take with him 
 the artillery and ammunition ; and the inhabitants who 
 chose to leave were permitted to carry away themselves 
 and goods; "and those who stayed, have liberty of 
 conscience." Cromwell replied, that he could take 
 with him whatever he brought there — nothing more ; 
 and the people who chose to go, might carry away 
 their goods, and have time to do it in. " But," he 
 added, "as for that which you mention concerning 
 liberty of conscience, I meddle not with any man's 
 conscience. But, if by liberty of conscience you mean 
 a liberty to exercise the mass, I judge it best to use 
 plain dealing, and to let you know, where the parlia- 
 ment of England have power, that will not be allowed 
 of" Plain dealing enough, and language clearly un- 
 derstood. " You may believe what you choose ; I do 
 not trouble myself about other men's consciences ; 
 but where my banner waves, no mass shall be said. 
 Sooner than permit it, I will storm your strongholds, 
 and crowd your streets with the dead." Strong Protes- 
 tantism this, and not likely to be moved much by argu- 
 ment. 
 
 He sent the whole account to parliament, that they 
 might " see how God pulled down strong stomachs." 
 One cannot but be struck with the strange contrast 
 
1649.] HIS DESPATCHES. 285 
 
 between Cromwell's correspondence with the governors 
 of Irish towns, and with parliament. To the latter, 
 his letters are more like religious epistles than military 
 despatches ; while, to the former, he says nothing of 
 "providence," makes no exhortations, but writes with the 
 abruptness and sternness of Caesar. There are no mystic 
 allusions — no prolix sentences. He expresses himself 
 in the fewest words possible, and with a sternness that 
 startles the reader. 
 
 Five or six hundred of the garrison being English- 
 men, they joined his standard — an example afterwards 
 followed by other places; so that he constantly re- 
 cruited his army from the enemy. Cork and Youghall 
 soon surrendered to his officers ; and the reduction of 
 Ireland went bravely on. General Blake, now Admi- 
 ral Blake, was co-operating with the land forces, and 
 had already taken several prizes. 
 
 Cromwell's despatch gives a full account of his vari- 
 ous successes, which he ascribes entirely to Providence. 
 "It pleased God" to raise an adverse wind, which ter- 
 minated in good. " It pleased God," that they had, on 
 another occasion, two demi-cannon, with which they 
 raked a man-of-war, and two prizes, so that they were 
 compelled to surrender. "It pleased God to give the 
 men courage" — indeed, Providence wrought every- 
 thing. "It was the Lord only;" so that "the instru- 
 ments were very inconsiderable throughout." It, how- 
 ever seemed to occur to him, that parliament might 
 take him too literally, and leave Providence, who had 
 done so much, to do the rest, and send him no recruits ; 
 
286 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 and, remembering, too, as the French general did, that 
 Providence was very apt to favor the strong battalions, 
 he added, by way of caution, " Give me leave, in con- 
 clusion, humbly to offer what, in my judgment, I con- 
 ceive to be for your service. We desire recruits. It 
 is not good to follow 'providences'''' — that is, you must not 
 have so much faith, as to forget the "strong battalions." 
 " Faith, without works, is dead," was his motto ; and 
 while he ascribed his success to God, he made use of 
 all the means in his power. 
 
 At the close of this terrible campaign, pestilence, 
 following in the track of famine and war, swept over 
 the country and entered the army ; so that, as Cromwell 
 said, the soldiers became " more fitted for the hospital 
 than the open field." The gallant Jones and Horton 
 both fell victims to it, and scarcely " one officer of forty" 
 escaped. He himself was cast on a sick bed in Ross, 
 but, soon was on his feet again. This single man, 
 on whose life such great destinies hung, exposed him- 
 self like the meanest soldier in the deadly breach, and 
 walked amid the same pestilence which cut down thou- 
 sands by his side, unslain. A stray bullet, an adven- 
 turous pike, and the Commonwealth of England would 
 have been an air bubble which the first touch breaks. 
 
 From Ross he marched on Waterford, which, after 
 investing some time, he abandoned, and went into 
 winter quarters. Various measures of his under offi- 
 cers marked the close of his operations ; — for himself, as 
 soon as his troops were comfortably settled, he made the 
 tour of his garrisons, and prepared for an early opening 
 
1650.J THE SPRING CAMPAIGN. 287 
 
 of the spring campaign. He also attended to civil 
 matters — a court of justice was established in Dublin 
 and Munster, over which Ireton was placed by parlia- 
 ment as grand judge. 
 
 His despatches, dated Cork, Dec. 19th, giving an 
 account of his last measures and his settlement in 
 winter quarters, reached parliament on the 8th of 
 January, and were no sooner read than a vote was 
 passed recalling him to England. Charles II. had 
 formed a coalition with the Scotch — or rather, being less 
 scrupulous than his father, had yielded all to their de- 
 mands, on condition they should place him on the 
 throne. A second invasion was threatened, and it 
 behooved parliament to have Cromwell at home. 
 
 In the meantime, the lord-general did not wait for 
 spring to open before he commenced operations. No 
 sooner were his men recruited, and re-inforcements 
 from England received, than he took the field ; and, 
 though the weather was cold, on the 24th of January 
 put his troops in motion. It is not our intention 
 to go into all the details of this sickening war — enough 
 has been already given to show in what manner it was 
 carried on, and illustrate the chief actors in it. 
 
 The plan of the campaign soon developed itself — 
 Col. Reynolds, at the head of a large body of horse 
 and dragoons and two thousand foot, marched into Kil- 
 kenny followed by Ireton with a strong reserve, while 
 Cromwell took his way towards the counties of Limer- 
 ick and Tipperary, determined to penetrate into the very 
 heart of the enemy's country. Two days after he left 
 
288 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Youghal, he took the castle of Kilkenny, on the borders 
 of Limerick, and, soon after, Clogheen. Raghill Castle 
 and old Castletown also surrendered, when he moved 
 toward Fethard, beyond the Suir. After a terrible 
 march, rendered worse by a storm of wind and rain, he 
 arrived, at night, before this strongly walled place 
 His troops, drenched to their skins, cold and hungry, 
 could find no place of shelter, except an old abbey, 
 into which they crawled to escape the tempestuous 
 weather. 
 
 The main army was not yet up, and this was merely 
 an advance-guard of a few hundred, with which he 
 had inarched so boldly into the midst of the enemy. 
 But neither the smallness of his force, nor the stormy 
 night, nor the state of his troops, could induce him to 
 delay a moment before it ; and soon his trumpet was 
 heard amid the pauses of the storm, summoning the 
 town to surrender. The garrison shot at the trumpeter, 
 and for an hour refused to answer the call, saying, that 
 " it was not a time of night to send a summons." But 
 Cromwell would listen to no excuse, and the indignant 
 governor was compelled to sit up all night and settle the 
 treaty, by which, next morning, the place was given up. 
 
 He then started for Callan, where he met Col. Rey- 
 nolds, who had also been successful. The colonel was 
 sent with his regiment to sieze Knocktofer; while 
 Cromwell, with the remaining forces, returned to 
 Fethard and Cashel. Cahir Castle, perched 'like an 
 eagle upon a rock, and which formerly cost the Earl of 
 Essex a siege of eight weeks to subdue, yielded at once. 
 
1650.] ALWAYS VICTORIOUS. 289 
 
 The Castle of Kiltinon, of Golden Bridge, of Dundrum, 
 fell in rapid succession, and garrisons were so distrib- 
 uted over the country, that the enemy could not obtain 
 subsistence, and fell, detachment after detachment, into 
 the hands of the republicans. 
 
 In Limerick, Col. Henry Cromwell and Lord Broghil* 
 drove the enemy out of the country into Kilkenny. 
 Cromwell, hearing of it, marched thither, with his 
 accustomed rapidity, and prostrating everything in his 
 passage, formed a junction with Col. Hewson, who had 
 arrived from Dublin. He then proceeded to invest a 
 strong castle near Gowran, commanded by Col. Ham- 
 mond, " who was a principal actor in the Kentish insur- 
 rection, and did manage Lord Capel's business at his 
 trial" (to little purpose it seemed), and ordered him to 
 surrender. The valiant colonel sent a haughty refusal, 
 upon which Cromwell planted his artillery and began to 
 play upon him. The clatter of balls about his ears, and 
 the crumbling of walls, brought the colonel to his 
 senses, and he beat a parley, offering to treat. But 
 the former, having once offered him fairly, refused — 
 saying, that he would promise nothing but the safety 
 of the soldiers — the surrender of the officers must be 
 unconditional. Hammond accepted the terms, and the 
 soldiers were saved : but he and all his officers, except 
 
 * It is said that Broghil, formerly an enemy of Cromwell, being 
 detected in a conspiracy, was compelled to choose between the 
 scaffold and the army of the Commonwealth. But it is doubtful 
 whether Cromwell would have entrusted such an important command 
 to a friend thus obtained. He was, however, a faithful and efficient 
 officer. 
 
 13 
 
290 OLIVER CR-OMWELL. 
 
 one, were inhumanly shot, and the Catholic chaplain 
 hung outside the walls. 
 
 He next marched to the " city of Kilkenny," where 
 he arrived on the 22d of March. Two days after, his 
 battery of " three guns began to play," and after a hun- 
 dred shot, or so, made a breach, which their fiery leader 
 thought " stormable" and rushed into it. But the gar- 
 rison had cast up works, and palisaded them, which 
 commanded the breach so completely that the assaulting 
 column recoiled in confusion. But Col. Ewer with a 
 thousand men having made a lodgement in another por- 
 tion of the city and a town on the farther side of the 
 river being occupied by a detachment of republican 
 troops, the place, after some severe fighting, surrendered. 
 
 In the meantime, his subordinate officers, operating 
 against smaller places in the neighborhood, were equally 
 successful ; and "they continued to grow upon their ene- 
 my, as the Lord blessed them." 
 
 The letter of recall, sent the 8th of January, did 
 not reach Oliver, it appears, till the 22d of March. 
 Whether he managed so as to secure its detention till 
 he could finish his work in Ireland, or not, it is impossi- 
 ble to say, but it seems very strange that a government 
 despatch should be two months and a half going from 
 London to Ireland. 
 
 STORM OF CLOMMEL. 
 
 Hugh O'Neil commanded here with a strong garri- 
 son under him ; and undismayed by the vengeance which 
 
1650.] STORM OF CLOMMEL. 291 
 
 had fallen on other towns, made a gallant defence. 
 Cromwell, as heretofore, immediately planted his batte- 
 ries, and as soon as a breach was made, ordered the 
 storm. But the enemy had erected double intrench- 
 ments and cross works within, which were flanked in 
 turn by houses ; so that after the breach was passed, the 
 peril had but just commenced. The enthusiastic repub- 
 licans crowded, however, into the ragged opening made 
 by the cannon, and falling with a terrible shout on the 
 net-work of defences within, attempted to carry them by 
 an overwhelming charge. But, met by a solid ridge of 
 steel points, and mowed down by the rapid volleys, 
 they could not advance. Yet, disdaining to fly, they 
 sunk, rank after rank, in their footsteps, " each stepping 
 where his comrade fell" — and thus for four mortal hours, 
 stood breast to breast with their foes, receiving the 
 flashes of the muskets in their very faces. Never before 
 was a storm so resolutely pressed — nothing could re- 
 sist it — and at length, as night drew on, the enemy 
 gave way and fled, and a parley was sounded. The 
 garrison had left the town, but the next morning Oliver 
 pursued them and killed over two hundred men. 
 
 This was the last of his battles in Ireland, and hand- 
 ing over his command to Ireton, he returned to Dublin, 
 where the ship President was waiting for him. Having 
 hastily arranged some civil matters, and given his in- 
 structions — he, in the latter part of May, stepped on 
 board and set sail for England. 
 
 We will not describe the manner in which Ireton, 
 brave and relentless as his father-in-law, completed the 
 
292 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 subjugation of the country. The same system was car- 
 ried out until Ireland lay completely prostrate, and was 
 compelled to receive whatever her master chose to 
 bestow. 
 
 REVIEW OF THE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 Cromwell's campaign lasted but nine months in all, 
 yet in that time, he had accomplished more than Eng- 
 land had ever before been able to do in as many years. 
 With a soul of fire and a will of iron, he moved with his 
 cannon like some awful impersonation of wrath, from 
 city to city and town to town. He admitted no delay — 
 the moment the head of his column appeared before the 
 walls, his trumpet was heard summoning the garrison to 
 surrender. He did not even wait for an answer, but 
 commenced planting his guns; and thundered on their 
 fastnesses, even while negotiations were going on. No 
 sooner did his shot open a breach, than he stormed 
 through. One wild protracted wail swelling to heaven — 
 streets cumbered with corpses and rippling with blood, 
 and his work was done and his fierce columns again in 
 motion. 
 
 The rapidity of his marches, and the suddenness of his 
 onsets, imparted still more terror to his movements, and 
 the blast of his bugle before the walls of a town sound- 
 ed, to the terrified inhabitants within, like the peal of the 
 last trumpet. Lips grew pale and hearts stopped beat- 
 ing, at the mention of his name. To us, he does not in 
 this campaign seem to be Cromwell, but some wrathful 
 
1650.] DEFENCE OF IRISH CAMPAIGN. 293 
 
 spirit from the other world, sent on a commission of ven- 
 geance. Defying the pestilence that walked through his 
 army at " noon-day" — with gaunt famine in his rear — 
 mercy asleep in his breast, and slaughter written in ter- 
 rific lines on his corrugated brow; he moves over the 
 land, crushing cities, and castles, and walled towns under 
 his feet, as if they were but the playthings of an hour. 
 
 DEFENCE OF CROMWELL TN THIS CAMPAIGN. 
 
 Much effort has been made by the friends of Crom- 
 well, to palliate the atrocities of this war. But the ex- 
 cuses offered, viz., that he had only a short time, in 
 which to effect the subjugation of the country — that 
 his army was rapidly wasting away by sickness — that 
 it was the quickest method of ending hostilities, &c, 
 are utterly worthless; and, if we supposed that they 
 were the motives which governed him, we should have 
 no faith in him as a Christian — no love for him, as a 
 man. Mr. Carlyle seems to think the plan an excellent 
 one, inasmuch as it prevented the effusion of blood. 
 Yes ; but supposing Cromwell had not always been vic- 
 torious, and the Irish had retaliated on him the bloody 
 warfare he adopted, what kind of a campaign would 
 this have been? A succession of mutual massacres 
 such as the world never beheld. This " doing evil that 
 good may come," and making " the ends justify the 
 means," is considered, in our times, rather doubtful 
 morality. 
 
 What right had Cromwell to make the Irish an ex- 
 
294 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ception to his ordinary mode of warfare ? Why did he 
 not impose the same conditions on the English and 
 Scotch towns that he invested ? What if he had butch- 
 ered the inhabitants of Bristol, because they put him 
 to the trouble of storming it ? In what respect 
 
 were they different from Drogheda and Wexford ? The 
 simple truth is, his conduct of the Irish war was savage 
 and ferocious — unworthy of a civilized man, much 
 more of a Christian, and will rest a spot on his name 
 to the end of time. In sacking cities, massacres will 
 sometimes occur, w T hen a long and bloody resistance 
 has so exasperated the soldiers, that all discipline is 
 lost. Thus, during the peninsular war, in the time of 
 Napoleon ; in the sacking of St. Sebastian by the Eng- 
 lish, and the storming of Oporto by the French, the in- 
 habitants were slaughtered ; but the officers took no part 
 in it — nay, exposed their lives in endeavoring to arrest 
 the violence. But here we have a Puritan commander, 
 who prays before going to battle, sings psalms in the 
 midst of the fight, and writes pastoral letters to parlia- 
 ment, not permitting, but ordering, massacres to be 
 committed. 
 
 Mr. Carlyle not only refuses to condemn such an un- 
 civilized mode of warfare, but stigmatizes those who 
 have some objections to it, as " rose-water surgeons." 
 But, to make light of those atrocities, which, to this 
 day, are remembered as the "Curse of Cromwell," is car- 
 rying "hero-worship" a little too far. Should we 
 unfold the horror and cruelty; depict, in full, and 
 accurately, the sufferings and cold-blooded massacres 
 
1650.] DEFENCE OF IRISH CAMPAIGN. 295 
 
 connected with this Irish war, the stern face of Oliver 
 would ever after appeal- streaked with blood. 
 
 We have thus spoken as condemnatory of his con- 
 duct towards the Irish, as if he had butchered the 
 inhabitants in brutal ferocity or fiendish hate, because 
 we wish not in any way to sanction the view which 
 Carlyle takes. But though there can be no apology for 
 such a mode of warfare, there may be for the man. 
 The character is indicated more by the motive than by 
 the act. Now, we do not see the least inconsistency in 
 Cromwell's conduct from first to last. The very sim- 
 plicity with which he gives his own account of the 
 affair, shows that he imagines himself to be acting right. 
 He makes no apology — offers no excuses — throws in no 
 palliation ; but tells the naked facts, as if it were 
 impossible to doubt his sincerity. These barbarous 
 cruelties, instead of furnishing any contradictions to 
 his character, illustrate it. They prove our former 
 statement, that he was acting under a kind of hal- 
 lucination, and conceived himself a special agent of 
 God, to destroy His foes and establish His Church. He 
 fought battles precisely on the principles the Israelites 
 did when they struggled to keep possession of the land 
 of Canaan. The Old Testament was constantly in his 
 mouth, and he killed men as coolly as Joshua. The 
 Scotch and English being Protestants, he regarded 
 them as Judah might Dan or Manasseh in a civil war ; 
 while the Irish Papists he considered as Amalakites or 
 Moabites, who were to be destroyed as enemies of 
 the Lord. This is evident from the language he uses 
 
296 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 in his despatches to parliament. After stating what he 
 has done in perfect candor and fairness, knowing that 
 it will stand registered against him to the end of time, 
 he says: "I am persuaded that this is a righteous 
 judgment of God upon these barbarous wretches, who 
 have imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood ; 
 and that it will tend to prevent the effusion of blood for 
 the future ; which are the satisfactory grounds to such 
 actions, which otherwise cannot but work remorse and 
 regret." Nor is it strange that he should have enter- 
 tained these erroneous views. When we remember 
 that the Protestants solemnly believed themselves to be 
 the true church and the Papists heathen ; how the former 
 had been massacred ; and also the peculiar views of the 
 Puritans respecting " the sword of the Lord and of Gid- 
 eon," we cannot wonder that Cromwell regarded him- 
 self as commisioned to avenge the slaughter of the 
 saints, whose bones lay bleaching on the moors of Ire- 
 land. Justice and judgment were the only mottoes on 
 his sword ; and he verily believed himself to be execut- 
 ing both. 
 
 If he had not been borne up by some such lofty 
 sentiment as this, it is very doubtful whether he 
 could have saved England from tyranny first, and from 
 a war of factions afterwards. To such a man there is 
 no wavering of purpose — no confusion of thought. The 
 complicated motives and fears which distract the mere 
 political leader he knows nothing of. With one grand 
 object in view, he presses steadily towards it — erring, it 
 may be, in his means, but not in his motives. To make 
 
1650.] DEFENCE OF IRISH CAMPAIGN. 297 
 
 no allowance for the expectations or impressions that 
 guide one, and judge him by his acts alone, would 
 be to condemn all the great warriors of the Old Testa- 
 ment as cut-throats. We have no doubt Cromwell con- 
 sidered himself as much commissioned by the Lord as 
 ever David did. As he took no glory to himself from 
 his victories, so he felt no blame in the slaughters that 
 preceded them. It was the work of the Lord, from first 
 to last ; and he gave him all the glory, not doubting 
 that he took all the responsibility. It is true, he had 
 no right to this impression, for he had received no 
 revelation from God. The warriors of Israel obtained 
 their commission from Heaven, through its own ap- 
 pointed medium ; and hence, their bloody wars were no 
 more nor less than divine justice. But Cromwell had 
 received no such commission in his Irish massacres, 
 and to believe that he had, argued a want of moral 
 sense which mars very much the excellency of his 
 character. Still, it was an error of the intellect rather 
 than of the heart; and sprung from that very belief 
 without which he could not have succeeded. Indeed, 
 when we take into consideration the bitter animosity 
 that existed between the Puritans and Papists, and the 
 pious horror with which the former regarded the latter, 
 especially after the protracted massacres in Ireland, it 
 seems an error inseparable from his belief. Under the 
 same circumstances — surrounded by the same influ- 
 ences, and carried away by the same enthusiasm, who 
 of us would have acted differently? 
 
 Those who attempt to sustain the stale charge of hy- 
 
298 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 pocrisy, from his conduct in this campaign, would do well 
 to explain why he affected no concealment — offered no 
 explanations. A hypocrite, methinks, who knew him- 
 self to be playing the villain, would take some pains to 
 cover up his actions — at least, not be, himself, the most 
 faithful historian of them. It is true, that his language 
 and his actions, present, at times, a striking contrast; 
 and some key is necessary to unlock the mystery 
 which surrounds them; for, certainly, there is a mys- 
 tery. But this key is not hypocrisy. To say that he 
 used his religion as a cloak with which to cover up his 
 violent acts, involves a still greater inconsistency than 
 the one it seeks to explain. It is much more rational 
 to suppose, that he was under the influence of a cer- 
 tain religious fanaticism — a wrong idea of his mission, 
 than to assert that he intentionally and blasphemously 
 used the name of God to conceal his deep-laid am- 
 bition. To say that, he snatched a few T moments, from 
 his fierce battles, to write to his children, bidding them 
 fear God, and keep his commandments — or to his inti- 
 mate friends, giving them a minute account of his 
 spiritual experience, solely because he w T ished to play 
 the hypocrite, or, in other words, to serve the devil 
 without any provocation, is carrying prejudice beyond 
 the bounds of reason. The speeches and letters of a 
 man, both public and private, through a series of years, 
 must reveal his character, if anything will. But, we 
 have nearly tw r o hundred letters, written in various 
 periods of his life, to persons of every description, even 
 to his wife and children, in all the frankness of pa- 
 
1650.] SETTLEMENT OF IRELAND. 299 
 
 rental affection ; and yet, no inconsistency in his cha- 
 racter is seen. Those who term him a hypocrite, will, 
 perhaps, explain this fact — one, we imagine, wholly un- 
 explainable on the ground they take. Before the idea 
 of power had dawned on his mind, or he had even 
 dreamed a letter of his would be seen, except by his 
 family, he utters the same religious phrases, indulges in 
 the same religious sentiments, which, repeated in pub- 
 lic, bring upon him the charge of cant, hypocrisy, and 
 design. 
 
 Much has been said of the unjust manner in which 
 Ireland was finally settled. Confiscations were, doubt- 
 less, extensive and heavy — indeed, poor Ireland has 
 always been confiscated to death. It has made no dif- 
 ference, whether fighting for her king or against him, 
 she was sure to be confiscated. Clarendon states, and 
 Villemain has adopted the ridiculous error, that all 
 the Irish Catholics were driven into Connaught, and 
 shut up there on pain of death, if they attempted to 
 leave. One would think that the idea of crowding all 
 Catholic Ireland into one province, was so preposterous 
 in itself, that nobody would give the statement credence 
 for a moment. 
 
 Without entering into details, the outline of the 
 plan of settlement was this : First, all the ringleaders 
 who had been engaged in the massacre of 1641, 
 were, on conviction, to be put to death, or banish- 
 ed as the court should decree. Second, those not 
 engaged in the massacre, but had borne arms against 
 parliament, were to forfeit two-thirds of their estates, 
 
300 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 and be banished during the pleasure of parliament, or 
 receive the value of the remaining third in land in 
 Connaught ; while those who, choosing to remain neu- 
 tral, had refused to take up arms for the common- 
 wealth, were to forfeit one-third or one-fifth of their 
 estates, and remain in quiet possession of the remain- 
 der. These severe enactments, however, affected only 
 the upper classes, while " all husbandmen, ploughmen, 
 laborers, artificers, and others of the mean sort, were to 
 be asked no questions, and to receive no jJunishment." 
 The design of parliament, in putting these severe con- 
 ditions on Ireland, was, no doubt, to give the pre- 
 ponderance to the Protestants, who succeeded to the 
 confiscated estates. 
 
 These heavy enactments were rigorously carried out, 
 and the flower of the kingdom fled into foreign lands, 
 and took refuge in foreign service. The performance 
 of Catholic ceremonies was made a capital offence, and 
 the priests were hunted down like common felons. 
 " Priest-hunting became a favorite field sport," says a 
 certain writer. This is, doubtless, a gross exaggeration ; 
 but the persecution of the Papists w T as rigorous in the 
 extreme. Still, Ireland flourished under this yoke of 
 iron, as it never had done before — public order was 
 restored — the laws were respected — industry revived, 
 and, in the language of Clarendon, " all this was done 
 and settled, within less than two years, to that degree 
 of perfection, that there were many buildings raised for 
 beauty as well as use — orderly and regular plantations 
 of trees, and fences, and enclosures, raised throughout 
 
1650.] CHARACTER OF CHARLES. 301 
 
 the kingdom — purchases made by one from the other, 
 at very valuable rates — adjoin tures made upon mar- 
 riages, and all other conveyances and settlements ex- 
 isted, as in a kingdom of peace, within itself, wherein 
 no doubt could be made of the solidity of titles." Such 
 was the result of the settlement made by the Puritan 
 commonwealth. 
 
 To show that Cromwell was not peculiar in his treat- 
 ment of Ireland, we would refer the reader to the 
 administrations of the two Charles's, who preceded and 
 came after him — to the bill of rights, called "Graces," on 
 the promise of granting which, Charles I. received money 
 to . the amount of a half a million of dollars, and then 
 broke his royal word — and last of all to the terrible admin- 
 istration of Strafford, which ended in a rebellion. This, 
 of course, produced confiscation ; and, in ten days, " bills 
 of indictment, for high treason, were found against all 
 the Catholic nobility and gentry in the counties of Meath, 
 Wicklow, and Dublin, and three hundred gentlemen in 
 the county of Kildare. These are but a small portion 
 of the tender mercies of Charles I., the blessed martyr. 
 Charles II., when he ascended the throne, instead of 
 reversing the settlement made by the commonwealth, 
 established it. These things are mentioned, to show 
 that the cruel course pursued by parliament, towards the 
 Irish, was not an exception, but the carrying out of a 
 general rule. This makes a vast difference — if the 
 confiscations and persecutions under the Puritans stood 
 by themselves, distinct and separate monuments of op- 
 pression, as their enemies imply, a strong case might 
 
302 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 be made out against their character. But when we 
 remember they carried out a system which had prece- 
 dents enough to make it constitutional, w T e pass the 
 crime from sects over to the nation. The adminis- 
 tration of Strafford, able though it is granted to have 
 been, was one of the most unjust under which the Irish 
 ever suffered. The truth is, Ireland has ever been 
 regarded as so much common plunder, by England. 
 From the twelfth century till now, she has, with 
 scarcely one protracted interval, suffered under the yoke 
 of her haughty mistress ; and it is not just to select out 
 one period in order to stab republicanism. We have 
 read history of modern civilization pretty thoroughly, 
 and yet, we know of no examples of violated faith, 
 broken treaties, corruption, bribery, violence, and op- 
 pression, compared to those which the history of the 
 English and Irish connexion presents. 
 
 If the Commonwealth had lasted, Ireland would have 
 been a Protestant kingdom, and her subsequent mis- 
 fortunes avoided. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 INVASION OF SCOTLAND. 1050-1651. 
 
 Cromwell Lands in England — His Reception — Accepts Command of 
 the Army Destined for Scotland — Charles II. — His Base Conduct — 
 Cromwell Marches North — Enters Scotland — Strives in Vain to Pro- 
 voke Lesley to Give Battle — Lambert ^Wounded — Movements Around 
 Edinburgh — Battle of Dunbar — Cromwell Invests Edinburgh Castle 
 — Marches to Glasgow — Interviews with a Scotch Minister — Out- 
 flanks the Scotch at Stirling, and Compels Them to Evacuate the 
 Place — The Scotch Invade En^othd — Pursued by Cromwell — Battle 
 of Worcester — Review of Cromwell's Career. 
 
 Cromwell had a stormy passage across the channel 
 — quite in keeping with the life he had led for the last 
 nine months — but, at length, arrived safely at Bristol. 
 No sooner were his colors seen flying from the mast, 
 than the town was in an uproar ; and, amid the firing of 
 cannon, and shouts of the populace, he once more set 
 foot on the shore of England. His journey to London 
 was one triumphal march, and when he reached Hyde 
 Park the city shook to the acclamations of the multi- 
 tude and the roar of guns. After resting a few days, 
 he took his seat in parliament, and was welcomed by 
 a vote of thanks, accompanied by a highly eulogistic 
 speech from Speaker Lenthall. Cromwell replied, 
 giving a full account of affairs in Ireland, and the plan 
 he had marked out for Ireton. 
 
304 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Ireland being thus disposed of, it became the Com- 
 monwealth to turn its attention to other enemies who 
 threatened its existence. France, domineering at sea, 
 plundered English merchantmen — some of the remote 
 colonial possessions were in revolt; while Scilly, Jersey, 
 and the Isle of Man, refusing to acknowledge the 
 government, carried on a piratical war against English 
 commerce. But the chief danger, and that which de- 
 manded immediate attention, was the attitude of Scot- 
 land. The mad attempt of Montrose, who had landed 
 from the Continent, and endeavored to overthrow the 
 kirk party, Scotch, parliamentary army, and all; had prov- 
 ed a failure, and the unfortunate nobleman been hung on 
 a gallows thirty feet high, and his body divided into four 
 quarters, been stuck up over the gates of the four chief 
 towns in the kingdom. Charles II. who was at the bot- 
 tom of the movement, then attempted to make a treaty 
 with the Scotch, and commissioners were sent from Ed- 
 inburgh to Breda, in the Netherlands, to confer with him. 
 This dissolute, unprincipled, youth — with none of the vir- 
 tues, and all the deceit and faithlessness of his father, 
 finding no other means left him to obtain the crown, 
 acceded to the hard conditions imposed upon him, and 
 set sail in seven Dutch ships for Scotland. Before he 
 landed he signed the Scotch covenant, by which he bound 
 himself to root out the Episcopal Church : he was then 
 entertained with long sermons and prayers, which he 
 bore like a martyr. As he passed Aberdeen, on his way 
 to Edinburgh, he saw one of the limbs of Montrose still 
 hanging, blackened and weather-beaten, over the gate. 
 
1650.] BASENESS OF CHARLES II. 305 
 
 He eventually crowned his hypocrisy and baseness 
 by signing a declaration, in which he gave thanks to 
 God for his timely conversion ; expressed his deep 
 sorrow at his father's wickedness, and horror of his 
 mother's idolatry; and swore eternal hostility to popery 
 in every part of his realm. To sink this contemptible 
 prince, whose beastly crimes afterwards made England 
 a bye-word among the nations of Europe, still deeper 
 in disgrace, the Scotch, before crowning him, re- 
 quired him to undergo a public humiliation, and in 
 the presence of the people repeat his abhorrence of his 
 father's, grandfather's, and mother's acts; and perjure 
 himself by solemnly avowing, that he sought the throne 
 solely for the advancement of religion. He took the 
 covenant three times with this terrible oath : " By the 
 Eternal and Almighty God, who liveth and reigneth 
 forever, I will observe and keep all that is contained 
 therein." 
 
 It was on account of these movements that parlia- 
 ment recalled Cromwell from Ireland. After some 
 discussion respecting the course to be adopted, it was 
 resolved not to permit the enemy, as heretofore, to cross 
 the border, and lay waste the kingdom ; but to take the 
 initial themselves, and invade Scotland. Fairfax, on 
 account of some Presbyterian scruples, or, more proba- 
 bly, at the instigation of his wife, refused to receive the 
 command, and Cromwell, after vainly attempting to 
 persuade him to change his mind, at length, reluctantly, 
 accepted it himself. Not yet rested from his severe 
 Irish campaign, he, nevertheless, would not decline, and 
 
306 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 again summoned his energies for war. Before depart- 
 ing, he took Ludlow into a private room, and discoursed 
 with him on matters in Ireland — on the ungodly cha- 
 racter of English lawyers and law, and finally passed 
 into a lengthy exposition of the hundred-and-tenth 
 psalm, " The Lord at thy right-hand, shall strike through 
 kings in the day of his wrath ; he shall judge among 
 the heathen ; he shall fill the places with dead bodies ; 
 he shall wound the heads over many countries, &c. ;" a 
 prophecy which he set about fulfilling in a way most 
 likely to secure its accomplishment. 
 
 With his accustomed rapidity of movement, he, three 
 days after his appointment, (June 28th,) was on his way 
 to the North, whither the troops were already marching. 
 Processions, acclamations, and salvos of cannon, at- 
 tended his passage. At York, they gave him a grand 
 dinner ; at Darnton, the artillery saluted him as he 
 swept^past, and at Newcastle, a magnificent reception 
 was prepared. Lambert, as major-general, Whalley, 
 Overton, Pride, and the renowned and afterwards infa- 
 mous Monk, were the chief officers who accompanied 
 him. At Newcastle, they had a solemn meeting for con- 
 ference and prayer; and the lord-general prayed and 
 talked more like a parson than a military chieftain, with 
 his band of heroes. 
 
 Having arranged everything, he at length set out for 
 Berwick, the place of rendezvous ; and on the 20th of 
 July, reviewed the troops on Haggerston moor. Five 
 thousand four hundred and fifteen cavalry, noble steeds 
 and brave riders as ever rushed to the shock ; ten thou- 
 
1650.] ENTERS SCOTLAND. 307 
 
 sand two hundred and forty-nine foot, and a splendid train 
 of artillery, consisting of six hundred and ninety ; in 
 all, over sixteen thousand well appointed men consti- 
 tuted this immortal army. Oliver rode slowly along 
 their glittering ranks ; and his eye took a prouder look, 
 as he thought of the might and terror with which they 
 could be hurled on the foe. That night, they encamped 
 on the banks of the Tweed ; and the inhabitants 
 frightened at the sudden appearance, kindled their 
 beacon fires, and leaving their homes, fled northward. 
 This army had been reported to them as a collection of 
 monsters, whose cruelty spared neither age nor sex; 
 and hence their sudden flight. 
 
 Ten days after the rendezvous, Cromwell drew his 
 forces forward to a place from which this Scotch ter- 
 ritory was in full view. Halting tfiem there, he pointed 
 to the scene of their future labors, and exhorted them 
 to be faithful and brave, and God would smile on their 
 efforts. A deafening shout rolled through the ranks, 
 and then the line of march was resumed. That night, 
 the army quartered in Scotland, at Mordington. Crom- 
 well here issued a proclamation forbidding any one, on 
 pain of death,, to plunder or offer violence to the peace- 
 ful inhabitants of the country, through which they 
 should pass. He, also, in order to keep his forces 
 compact, ordered that no soldier, without special license, 
 should venture at any time more than a half a mile 
 from the main army. A proclamation was also issued 
 to the Scotch people, giving the lie to slanders that had 
 
308 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 been promulgated by the Scotch clergy and parliament 
 against the English troops. 
 
 On Thursday, the 25th, the army began to advance, 
 and the next day, reached Dunbar, and found the trans- 
 ports laden with provisions, in the harbor. It then 
 moved to Haddington, within twelve miles of Edin- 
 burgh, and encamped. On Sunday, hearing that the 
 Scotch were advancing to give battle, Cromwell, early 
 in the morning, ordered the drums to beat to arms, and 
 quickly arrayed his troops. Rapidly forming, the cav- 
 alry went clattering forward, followed close by the eager 
 columns, as they hurried on to get possession of Glad- 
 ston Moor, before the enemy. But the report proving 
 false, Oliver sent forward Lambert and Whalley with 
 fourteen hundred horse, to Musselburgh, to reconnoitre ; 
 while he followed with the main body. These com- 
 manders soon came upon the Scotch army, 24,000 
 strong, firmly entrenched between Edinburgh and 
 Leith ; while nearly their whole line w r as raked by 
 the guns of the latter place. Cromwell, on discerning 
 the strength of the position, wisely resolved not to haz- 
 ard an attack. 
 
 Notwithstanding his superiority of numbers, old 
 Lesley, the commander-in-chief, would not offer battle 
 in the open field: — he knew Oliver too well — he had 
 fought by his side at Marston Moor, and seen the wild 
 work his Ironsides made, when given fair charging- 
 ground ; and he lay snug behind his works. The latter, 
 however, moved up his cannon within long range, and 
 also took King Arthur's Hill, which stood within a 
 
1650.] LAMBERT WOUNDED. 309 
 
 mile of Edinburgh, and overlooked the city and the 
 enemy. Nothing else was attempted that day ; while, 
 to discourage the soldiers still more, a heavy rain storm 
 set in, and continued all night, drenching them to the 
 skin. Most of them had nothing but the damp earth to 
 rest upon; yet, they never murmured, hoping for a 
 battle next day. But, in the morning, Cromwell gave the 
 orders to retreat to their encampment at Musselburgh. 
 
 While the army was executing this order, and stea- 
 dily falling back, the Scotch made a sally upon the 
 rear-guard, and threw it into confusion. But a large 
 body of horse, galloping to the rescue, they were 
 quickly repulsed. Lesley, however, sending out heavy 
 re-inforcements, they rallied, and returned to the 
 charge ; and, for aw r hile, it was a close and hot con- 
 test. But Lambert and Whalley, who commanded the 
 rear — enraged at their first repulse, now poured their 
 enthusiastic troops to the charge, with such impetuosity, 
 that the enemy, after a short, but desperate struggle, 
 broke, and fled. The blood of the republicans was now 
 fairly up, and pressing after the flying foe, they charged 
 to the very trenches. Among the foremost — leading on 
 their troops, and fighting like common soldiers, rode 
 Lambert and Whalley, their swords drinking blood at 
 every step. At length, Lambert's horse, struck by two 
 balls, plunged forward, and fell dead. Immediately two 
 lances pierced the prostrate rider — one pinning his 
 arm to the earth, and the other entering his body — and 
 he was made prisoner. This would have been a sad 
 day for Oliver, had not one of his own lieutenants, see- 
 
3i0 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ing the danger of the major-general, dashed resolutely 
 forward, and. at the peril of his own life, gallantly 
 rescued him. WhaUey, who saw the general fall, shouted 
 to his men to charge ; and, falling, like an overturned 
 cliff, with his entire regiment, on the victorious enemy, 
 broke them into fragments, and sent them in terror be- 
 hind their works. 
 
 This ended the day's fight ; and Cromwell was 
 allowed to draw off his army, without farther moles- 
 tation — bearing his wounded major-general with him. 
 He encamped, that night, at Musselburgh ; and the 
 weary and wet soldiers lay down to rest. But, between 
 three and four o'clock in the morning, they were aroused 
 by the hurried beat of drums, the cry of " To arms!" and 
 the tramp of charging squadrons. Major-Generals 
 Montgomery and Strahan, hoping to take the repub- 
 licans by surprise, had suddenly fallen, with fifteen hun- 
 dred horse, on the camp; and driving in the guards, 
 broken a regiment of horse which Cromwell had order- 
 ed to hold itself in readiness, in case of an attack. But 
 it was no easy matter to send a panic through this dis- 
 ciplined host ; and, though in the darkness and con- 
 fusion they supposed the whole Scotch army was upon 
 them, they rallied with the utmost precision and stea- 
 diness ; and charo-ing the enemv in turn, routed them — 
 pursuing and slaying the fugitives even to the gates of 
 Edinburgh. Several inferior officers were killed and 
 taken prisoners ; and Strahan himself, had to foot it 
 into the town, to escape being taken. 
 
 We have spoken of the proclamation Cromwell issued 
 
1050.] HIS LETTER TO THE 8 C T OH. 311 
 
 at Berwick, to the people of Scotland. The general 
 assembly answered it, will) a long counter declaration; 
 to which a reply was sent, drawn up, doubtless, by 
 some of the chaplains in the army. Cromwell accom- 
 panied this with a letter of his own, to the general 
 assembly, in which he gave them some very useful 
 hints; and wound up by advising them to read "the 
 twenty-eighth of Isaiah, from the fifth to the fifteenth 
 verse." The thirteenth and fourteenth verses are as fol- 
 lows : "But the word of the Lord was unto them, pre- 
 cept upon precept — precept upon precept; line upon 
 line — line upon line; here a little and there a little, that 
 they might go and fall backward, and be broken, and 
 snared, and taken. Wherefore, hear the word of the 
 Lord, ye scornful men, that rule this people which is in 
 Jerusalem." We suspect he meant to have them read 
 from the fifth to the fifteenth inclusive — the last being 
 more pat than all the rest, as applied to the bargain and 
 agreement they had just made with Charles II. "Be- 
 cause ye have said, we have made a covenant with 
 death, and with hell are we ;it agreement, when the 
 overflowing scourge shall pass through, it shall not come 
 unto us; for we have made lies our refuge, and under 
 falsehoods have we hid ourselves." The Presbyterian 
 divines, doubtless, found this rather "strong meat," and 
 not designed for "babes and sucklings." 
 
 Two days after the date of this letter, Cromwell 
 marched his army through the storm, back to Dunbar, 
 to get supplies from his ships. The Scots, supposing it 
 to be a retreat, had a day of solemn thanksgiving and 
 
312 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 rejoicing, over their great deliverance. But the pre- 
 sence of his advance-guard at Musselburgh again on 
 the 12th, checked their premature joy. 
 
 Finding it useless to attempt to drive Lesley out of 
 his entrenchments by occupying in front of him, he 
 now removed to Pentland Hills, so as to cut off his sup- 
 plies, and thus provoke him to battle. In the mean- 
 time, another declaration was received from the kirk and 
 states, repelling Cromwell's insinuations and quietly 
 charging him with falsehood. Oliver replied, making 
 good his first assertions. This correspondence was car- 
 ried on by him for the sake of enlightening the honest 
 portion of the Presbyterian party, and to induce them to 
 reject the league with Charles. 
 
 He lay two weeks longer around Edinburgh — march- 
 ing now on this side, now on that, using every means 
 to tempt Lesley out of his intrenchments, but in vain. 
 On the 14th of August, he stormed a small garrison 
 within a mile and a half of the city and in sight of the 
 whole Scotch army, and took it. A week after this, 
 Lesley sent some officers to him to hold a conference 
 about the aspersion he had cast upon them saying, they 
 were " afraid to come out of their trenches and holes 
 and fight like men who had a good cause." Cromwell 
 was glad to find that his taunts had told, and hoped to 
 bring matters to some point — for the next morning the 
 Scotch army drew off towards Stirling. He immedi- 
 ately put his troops in motion, but when he came in 
 front of the enemy, he saw that they had placed a wide 
 bog between them and him. Provoked by this decep- 
 
1650.] RETREATS TO DUNBAR. 313 
 
 tion, he commenced a tremendous cannonade over 
 the morass, which he kept up all day. The Scotch 
 answered, till the Pentland Hills and old Edinburgh 
 Castle shook with the heavy explosions. Capt. Hodg- 
 son's company were at prayers, when a cannon-ball 
 came singing past them, just (according to the gallant 
 captain) as they reached the word "Amen ;" but, we 
 suspect, the word "Amen" was uttered just as the 
 cannon-ball went singing past. Oliver taught his men 
 to pray before and after the battle, but not in it. At 
 Marston Moor, an officer whom be ordered to charge 
 began to pray, when he pressed a cocked pistol to his 
 temple, and bade him stop praying and charge at 
 once, or he would blow his brains out. He acted on 
 the maxim, " there is a time for all things." 
 
 Several were killed in this skirmish, on both sides; 
 but Cromwell seeing no benefit resulting from so 
 distant firing, withdrew his troops, and encamped that 
 night, in a tempest of wind and rain, within a mile of 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 Lesley, finding that the republican army had become 
 sadly reduced by sickness, now attempted to play on 
 Oliver the game he had been so long practising on 
 him, and cut off his supplies, by interposing between him 
 and his shipping. But- the latter, getting wind of it, 
 " fired his huts that Saturday night," and began his 
 march towards Dunbar, where his ships lay. Lesley 
 hung threateningly on his rear, and several skirmishes 
 took place between separate detachments of horse — but 
 the Scotch dared not risk a close engagement. All 
 14 
 
314 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 that day, Sunday, the sick and wasted army fell steadily 
 back, until, at length, it drew up in front of Dunbar, 
 resolved to make a stand there by the ships. In the 
 meantime, Lesley's columns gathered in a thick cloud 
 upon Doon Hill, that overlooked it. Cromwell's troops 
 had perished so fast, that out of the noble army he led 
 over the borders only eleven thousand now remained fit 
 for service. 
 
 BATTLE OF DUNBAR. 
 
 The spot on which Oliver drew up his little army, 
 was a small, narrow, tongue of land, running out into 
 the Frith of Forth — high and bleak near where it joined 
 the mainland, and overlooking, on either side, the rest- 
 less ocean. The town of Dunbar was behind him — a 
 single mansion, Brocksmouth House, faced his extreme 
 left — else there was not a covering on the desolate ex- 
 panse, save one hut, into which the cannon were carried 
 to shelter them from the rain, which fell in torrents. 
 
 On this bleak and narrow peninsula, only a mile and a 
 half wide at its base, behold the white tents of Cromwell's 
 army ! In front of him, landward, is a desolate, unpass- 
 able moor, with a low ridge of hills beyond, on which 
 stands the Scotch army, twenty-three thousand strong 
 At the base of these runs a small streamlet, forty feet 
 wide and almost as many deep ; furnishing only two 
 passes over which troops can march. Cromwell's ships 
 are in the offing, his now last remaining resource : the 
 lion is at length caught, and the prey deemed secure. 
 
1650.] BATTLE OF DUNBAR. 315 
 
 On the second of September, Oliver looks forth from 
 the desolate heath, on which his army is drawn up in 
 order of battle ; and, lo ! what a sight meets his gaze. 
 Behind him is the sea, swept by a strong wind ; and 
 before him, blocking him in from shore to shore, a 
 chosen army outnumbering his own two to one. The 
 white tents, that are sprinkled over this low peninsula, 
 rock to and fro in the storm of sleet and hail ; and dark- 
 ness and gloom hang over the Puritan host. This strip 
 of land is all that he has left in Scotland, while a power- 
 ful army stands ready to sweep him into the sea. But it 
 is in circumstances like these that his character shines 
 forth with greatest splendor. Though his overthrow 
 seems certain, he exhibits no discouragement or fear, 
 for, " he was a strong man in the dark perils of war; in 
 the high places of the field, hope shone in him like a 
 pillar of fire, when it had gone out in all others." A 
 letter he writes to the governor of Newcastle, on the 
 eve of this battle, is so characteristic, and, withal, so 
 sublime, that we give it entire. 
 
 To Sir Arthur Haselrig, Governor of Newcastle ; these 
 
 " Dear Sir — We are upon an engagement very difficult. The 
 enemy hath blocked up our way at the Pass at Coppers-path, 
 through which we cannot get without a miracle. He lieth so 
 upon the hills, that we know not how to come that way, without 
 great difficulty ; and our lying here daily, consumeth our men, 
 who fall sick beyond imagination. 
 
 "I perceive your forces are not in a condition for present relief. 
 Wherefore, whatever comes of us, it will be well for you to get what 
 forces you can together ; and the South to help what they can. 
 The business nearly concerneth all good people. If your forces 
 
316 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 had been in readiness to have fallen on the back of Coppers-path, 
 it might have occasioned supplies to have come to us. But the 
 only wise God knows what is best. All shall work for good 
 Our spirits are comfortable, praised be the Lord — though our 
 present condition be as it is. And, indeed, we have much hope in 
 the Lord; of whose mercy we have had large experience. 
 
 " Indeed, do you get together what force you can against them. 
 Send to friends in the South to help with more. Let H. Vane 
 know what I write. I would not make it public, lest danger should 
 accrue thereby. You know what use to make thereof. Let me 
 hear from you. 
 
 " I rest your servant, 
 
 "Oliver Cromwell." 
 
 Nobly said. Indeed, it will be a miracle if he 
 escapes ; yet, calm and self-sustained, he waits the 
 issue. " Whatever becomes of him," he is still anxious 
 for the cause in which he is struggling. Forgetting 
 himself, in the nobleness of his great heart, he says; 
 " Let me fall in silence — let not the news of my danger 
 bring discouragement on our friends — God's will be 
 done." 
 
 At four o'clock that evening, as he was watching 
 the enemy's movements through his glass, he saw 
 that the Scotch commander was bringing down the 
 whole army from the hill to the brook at its base, to be 
 ready next day to commence the assault. In this 
 movement his quick eye detected an error, which, like 
 Bonaparte, he determined to avail himself of. 
 
 Lesley, in executing his manoeuvre, had packed his 
 main body into a narrow space, where it could not 
 easily deploy ; while the entire right wing stretched out 
 
1650.] THE CHARGE. 317 
 
 into the plain. Cromwell saw, that if he could rout 
 this wing, and roll it back in disorder on the unwieldy- 
 mass, before it could draw up in order of battle in the 
 open ground, victory would be sure. That night, there- 
 fore, his twelve thousand men were placed in battle array, 
 with nothing white about them to show conspicuous in 
 the dusky twilight, and with orders, as soon as the morn- 
 ing dawned, to fall on the enemy. All night long, • the 
 drenched army stood, without a tent to cover them, in 
 the cold storm ; while the moan of the sea, as it rolled 
 heavily on the beach, seemed chanting a requiem be- 
 forehand, for the dead that should cumber the field. 
 But, amid the shriek of the blast, and the steady roar 
 of the waves, the voice of prayer was heard along the 
 lines ; and many a brave heart, that before another 
 night should beat no more, poured forth its earnest sup- 
 plications to the God of battle. 
 
 Towards morning, the clouds broke away, and the 
 moon shone dimly down on the silent host. Cromwell, 
 who had been intently watching the enemy's motions, 
 now saw a column moving down the southern pass ; 
 and lifting up his arm, exclaimed, " the Lord hath 
 delivered them into our hands !" The trumpets then 
 sounded the charge — the artillery opened their fire, 
 while louder than all rang the shout, " The Lord of 
 Hosts! the Lord of Hosts!" as infantry and cavalry 
 poured in one wild torrent together on the enemy. 
 The first division of the foot recoiled ; when Cromwell 
 ordered up his own regiment, which, with levelled 
 pikes, pressed sternly forward amid the carnage, bearing 
 
318 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 down all opposition. At that moment, the cavalry 
 came thundering on : the Scotch paused in terror ; 
 the next moment the clattering tempest was upon them. 
 Over the brook and over the hostile ranks they went, 
 trampling down the steady battalions like grass beneath 
 their feet, and bearing three thousand souls to the next 
 world, in their fierce passage. In the midst of this ter- 
 rible charge, on which Cromwell's eye rested with the 
 deepest anxiety, the sun rose over the naked hills, and, 
 struggling through the mist that was gently moving 
 away from the battle-field, sent his level beams athwart 
 the commingled hosts. 
 
 So did the sun rise on Napoleon at Borodino, as he 
 stood and surveyed the field on which two hundred and 
 sixty thousand men were moving to battle, and the 
 sublime expression burst from his lips, " Behold the Sun 
 of Austerlitz !" But Cromwell, carried away by a higher 
 sentiment than glory, gave vent to his emotions in sub- 
 limer language. As the blazing fire-ball rolled slowly 
 into view and poured its light over the scene, he burst 
 forth, "let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered !" 
 Aye, and they were scattered. The right wing, broken 
 and disordered, was rolled in a confused mass upon the 
 main body of the army ; and the panic spreading, those 
 twenty thousand men became a cloud of fugitives, 
 sweeping hither and thither over the field. At the base 
 of Doon Hill, on which the enemy had been encamped, 
 Cromwell ordered a general halt : and while the horse 
 could be rallied for the chase, bade the army sing the 
 hundred and seventeenth Psalm. " Hundred and seven- 
 
1650.] THE VICTORY. 319 
 
 teenth Psalm, at the foot of Doon Hill; there we uplift it 
 to the tune of Bangor, or some still higher score, and roll 
 it strong and great against the sky." As the mighty an- 
 them died away on the field, the shout of battle was again 
 heard ; and the fierce cavalry drove amid the broken 
 ranks, riding down the fugitives and sabring them 
 without mercy, till the ground was covered with the 
 dead. 
 
 Three thousand were slain ; and ten thousand taken 
 prisoners ; while fifteen thousand stand of arms ; two 
 hundred stands of colors, and twenty-seven cannon ; re- 
 mained as spoils to the victors. It was an utter rout of 
 the Scotch : the whole country around became covered 
 with a disorderly multitude, through which the steady 
 squadrons of the republicans galloped without resistance. 
 
 Cromwell never appeared to better advantage than 
 on this occasion. He had been forced to remain inac- 
 tive, while his army dwindled rapidly away ; and at 
 last made a stand where the chances were all against 
 him. But these adverse events had only excited him 
 to greater efforts ; and in the midst of the battle, those 
 who saw him say he appeared like one inspired. He 
 was now fifty-one years of age ; but his life of excite- 
 ment, exposure, and toil, had made heavy demands on 
 his iron constitution. The rich and clustering hair 
 of youth had fallen away, and thin grey locks but 
 partially covered his wrinkled temples and expansive 
 forehead. What between religious enthusiasm — the 
 intense thought and anxiety to which the perilous posi- 
 * Vide Carlyle. 
 
320 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 tion of himself and country made him a constant prey ; 
 and his unparalleled physical labors ; reckless exposures 
 to all elements and seasons ; his hardy frame began to 
 yield ; and we find him, the next day after the battle, 
 writing to his wife, saying, "I have been, in my inward 
 man, marvellously supported; though, / assure thee, I 
 grow an old man, and feel the infirmities of age stealing 
 upon me. Would my corruptions did as fast decrease I" 
 Now that the strain of the last six weeks is off, he feels 
 how overtasked he has been ; and the reaction of mind 
 and body remind him that the vigor and elasticity of 
 youth are departing. The stern, knit brow has relaxed, 
 and the flashing eye lost its fire ; and with a shade of 
 melancholy subduing his strong features, he looks over 
 the battle-field, and thinks of his own mortality. 
 
 Immediately after the action, he issued a proclama- 
 tion, by beat of drum, granting permission to the 
 inhabitants to come and carry off the dead, and remove 
 and help the wounded. Five thousand persons were 
 turned loose on the spot, as they encumbered the army ; 
 while three thousand more were marched southward ; 
 and at Morpeth, Newcastle, Durham, and by the way- 
 side, died in crowds from the cruel treatment they 
 received. 
 
 At the same time, he despatched Lambert, with seven 
 regiments, to take Leith and Edinburgh, both of which 
 opened their gates, though the castle of the latter, 
 perched on its impregnable cliff, refused to come to 
 terms. He, himself, soon followed, with his whole 
 army, and invested the castle. In the meantime, he 
 
1650.] LECTURES THE CLERGY. 321 
 
 sent word to the governor, (Dundas,) that the ministers 
 should have free permission to return to the city, and 
 preach unmolested. The clergy sent back a sulky an- 
 swer — refusing to take advantage of the permission, 
 declaring, that his persecutions towards the ministers 
 of Christ had been personal, since his unjust invasion ; 
 and, that they were "resolved to reserve themselves for 
 better times ; and, to wait upon Him who hath hidden 
 his face for awhile, from the sons of Jacob." To this 
 Oliver returned a sharp and pungent reply, telling them, 
 that if they had their " master's service in their eye," as 
 they pretended, they would not have refused his offer, 
 but gladly availed themselves of it, to preach the Gos- 
 pel ; — that he had never persecuted, nor interfered with 
 any minister, while pursuing his proper vocation, for 
 which he entertained the highest respect. But, "when 
 ministers pretend to a glorious reformation, and lay the 
 foundations thereof, in getting to themselves worldly 
 power, and can make worldly mixtures, to accomplish 
 the same, (such as their late agreement with the king,) 
 and hope to carry on their design, they may know that 
 the Sion promised, will not be built of such untempered 
 mortar. As for the unjust invasion they mention, time 
 was when an army of Scotland came into England, not 
 called by the supreme authority."* " And although," 
 he says, " they comfort themselves with being sons of 
 Jacob, from whom God hath hid his face for a time," 
 he tells them it is no wonder they are chastened, when 
 they will not recognize His hand in the vengeance so 
 
 * Vide Carlyle's letters. Speeches of Cromwell, page 480. 
 
322 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 often visited on the house of Stuart.* " The Scotch 
 clergy," says Carlyle, wittily, " never got such a repri- 
 mand since they first took ordination!' 
 
 A long correspondence was afterwards carried on — 
 ended on the part of Cromwell, by proposing four tough 
 queries, which the Scotch theologians found it difficult 
 to answer. They are given at length in Carlyle, who 
 thus comments on them : "You can consider that, my 
 friends ; and think, on the whole, what kind of course 
 you are probably getting into — steering towards a king- 
 dom of Jesus Christ, with Charles Stuart, and Mrs. 
 Barlow] at the hehn." 
 
 The remaining troops of the enemy — Charles at 
 their head — rallied in Stirling; and thither Cromwell 
 marched on the 14th, and drew up before the town. 
 Finding the place, however, too strongly fortified to 
 hazard an attack, he marched back again, and set down 
 in earnest before the castle of Edinburgh. On the 29th 
 he began his mines, determined to blow rock and all 
 into the air. 
 
 Notwithstanding the victory of Dunbar, and the 
 danger which now threatened Scotland, the most bit- 
 ter factions divided the State. The chief of these were 
 the "Icing and kirk party" with Charles at its head, 
 entrenched at Stirling ; — the party against the king, 
 called " Remonstrators," commanded by Ker and 
 Strahan, holding chiefly the West; and the purely 
 
 * Vide Appendix. No. IV. 
 
 f One of the notorious women with whom Charles began his dis- 
 solute career. 
 
1650.] TAMES A DIVINE. 323 
 
 " king "party" under Middleton, who roamed the High- 
 lands. 
 
 Hearing, while before Edinburgh Castle, that Ker 
 and Strahan were mustering in force, threatening to 
 march on the town itself, Cromwell, with nine regi- 
 ments, departed hastily for Glasgow, which he entered 
 without opposition. A leg of the unfortunate Montrose 
 hung blackening in the sun, over the gates, as he passed 
 through. Here he remained two days. It is said that 
 he sent for Gillespie, principal of the college, and chief 
 ecclesiastical dignitary, in those parts ; and after some 
 conversation, prayed with him — the lord-general tak- 
 ing occasion in the course of his prayer to give a 
 pretty full and clear exposition of his theological views. 
 On Sunday he went to church, and heard the clergy- 
 man (the Rev. Zachary Boyd, or as others state, James 
 Durham, once in the army,) abuse him roundly, as an 
 enemy of God and the true faith. Thurloe, incensed 
 at his audacity, wished to pull him out of the pulpit by 
 the ears, but Cromwell told him to sit still — that he was 
 one fool, and the minister another. After service, he 
 asked the choleric divine to dinner, and entertained him 
 generously. When dinner was over, he requested him 
 to lead in prayer, which he did, followed by Cromwell. 
 This season of religious conversation and prayer, 
 seemed to have wrought a wonderful change in the 
 Rev. Zachary Boyd's views, which was made most 
 apparent in the prelections of the worthy man on the 
 next Sunday. It is said, though we know not with 
 how much truth, that Cromwell prayed three hours. 
 
324 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 If so, no wonder the minister was converted ; for, such 
 astonishing gifts and graces, but few even of the stiff 
 Covenanters possessed. 
 
 Returning to Edinburgh, Oliver pressed the siege of 
 the castle, and soon succeeded in running his subter- 
 ranean galleries to the rock on which it stood. The 
 work, then, became slow and tedious. 
 
 In the meantime, Lambert and Whalley had been 
 sent out towards Glasgow, to watch the movements of 
 Ker and Strahan. The former was surprised, while 
 lying at Hamilton Town, by the enemy, who broke in 
 upon him about four o'clock in the morning, with fifteen 
 hundred horse. Lambert, however, succeeded in rally- 
 ing his men ; and routed the assailants, chasing them for 
 miles out of the town. This was the end of the party 
 of " Remonstrators," — Ker being dangerously wounded, 
 and Strahan after awhile joining the republicans. 
 
 Cromwell, in the meantime, finding how tedious and 
 slow the mining operations were becoming, raised a 
 mount near the castle, and in spite of the fire from the 
 latter, planted four mortars, and six heavy guns upon it ; 
 and summoned Dundas to surrender. The latter re- 
 plied, that he wished first to confer with " the commit- 
 tee of estates." Oliver, knowing well what reply the 
 committee would give, refused permission, and opened 
 his fire. Dundas then requested to be allowed a con- 
 ference with the provosts of Aberdeen and Edinburgh, 
 which was granted. But these functionaries would 
 give no advice, telling him he must take the whole 
 responsibility on himself. The latter finally resolved to 
 
1650.] TAKES EDINBURGH CASTLE. 325 
 
 hold out to the last ; and having despatched this reso- 
 lution to Cromwell, flung out the red flag of defiance 
 over the battlements, and opened his heavy guns. 
 Oliver replied with a rapid and well-directed fire. 
 The old castle trembled under the heavy shot that 
 smote its walls ; but, still more, under the explosion of 
 its own artillery, which made it seem like a volcano 
 there on the cliff, spouting forth flame and smoke. After 
 keeping up this hurly burly for awhile, Dundas imagined 
 he had done his whole duty, and beat a parley. Nego- 
 tiations were opened, and the valiant governor, obtaining 
 honorable tei'ms, surrendered the castle to Cromwell, 
 who immediately entered it in triumph.* 
 
 The army now went into winter-quarters, and nothing 
 of note happened till spring : — the reduction of several 
 small garrisons on the shores of the Firth, being the only 
 military expeditions attempted. Parliament sent an 
 artist to Edinburgh, to take Oliver's portrait for a 
 medal which was to be struck in commemoration of 
 the victory at Dunbar. The latter thought this a very 
 ridiculous move, and proposed that the victory should 
 be commemorated by "a gratuity to the army;" and 
 if they would have a medal, put parliament on one 
 side, " and on the other an army, with this inscription 
 over the head of it — ' The Lord of Hosts' which was 
 our word that day." 
 
 The king was crowned in January, and the forces 
 immediately began to muster from every part of Scot- 
 land. Cromwell, who was, in reality, master of the 
 * 24th of December. 
 
326 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 whole country south of the Forth ; saw all these pre- 
 parations, and laid down the plan of his future cam- 
 paign. Fen wick and Syles were ordered to reduce 
 Hume Castle ; while he, with the main army, on the 4th 
 of February, 1651, took up the line of march for Stir- 
 ling, where the enemy still lay entrenched. Fenwick 
 accomplished his mission, despite the conceited com- 
 mander, who, in reply to his summons to surrender, 
 sent the following answer : 
 
 " I, William of the Wastle, 
 Am now in my castle ) 
 A' awe the dogs in the town, 
 Shan't gar me gang down."* 
 
 The republican colonel, as the quaint writer re- 
 ferred to says, gave "heroic verse for his resolute 
 rhymes ;" and opening a breach in his walls, made him 
 "gang down on his own terms." 
 
 The march of Cromwell to Stirling, was not so suc- 
 cessful. A fierce snow and hail storm set in, which 
 impeded his march, and so exhausted the soldiers, that 
 after arriving at Kilayth, he was compelled to turn 
 back. He took a severe cold in this expedition, which 
 ended in the ague, and, for awhile, seriously threatened 
 his life. The army was filled with consternation, while 
 the Scotch gave way to the most extravagant hopes. 
 They verily believed, that God had finally heard their 
 prayers, and was about to take away their chief enemy. 
 He had three relapses, and was not completely restored 
 
 * Vide Perfect Politician, of 1680. 
 
1651.] HIS SICKNESS. 327 
 
 till the first of July. Parliament, alarmed at his pro- 
 tracted illness, sent two eminent physicians, Doctors 
 Wright and Bates, to attend him ; and soon after passed 
 a vote, giving him permission to return home, until his 
 health should be re-established. But Cromwell's great 
 strength of constitution at length prevailed over his 
 disease. 
 
 Re-inforcements and supplies, in the meantime, had 
 arrived, and he took the field with a fresh and vigorous 
 army. On the 16th of April, there was a grand muster 
 of the troops at Musselburgh, and the general rode out 
 to review them. No sooner was that well-known form 
 seen advancing along the lines, than they rent the 
 heavens with shouts : and as they looked on his pale 
 face, so changed since they last saw it, " God save the 
 lord-general !" shook the field. 
 
 That afternoon, the army was put in motion for Glas- 
 gow, where it arrived on Saturday. Cromwell remained 
 here two days ; when hearing that the king was bestir- 
 ring himself, he returned to Edinburgh. This effort 
 caused a relapse; and was the occasion of the phy- 
 sicians being sent by parliament. 
 
 On the 25th of June, however, he was again in the 
 saddle, and his army pitched their tents on the Pentland 
 Hills. They presented a splendid spectacle there in the 
 spring sunlight — " the towering tents of the superior 
 officers," with banners floating above them, standing 
 around the countless huts of the inferior soldiers, like 
 the "pinnacles in a well-built city, over the humble 
 cottages." 
 
328 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 While they lay thus encamped on the heights, their 
 general gave a splendid dinner to the officers, many of 
 whose wives — and among them Lady Lambert, graced 
 the festival. 
 
 On the 2d of July, the army was again put in motion 
 towards Stirling, hoping the enemy would give battle. 
 But the Scotch were in no hurry to measure their 
 strength a second time with the victors of Dunbar, and 
 remained behind their impregnable works. Thus march- 
 ing and counter-marching, without accomplishing any- 
 thing, Cromwell became impatient, and, at length, resolv- 
 ed to take Calendar House — a garrison in full view of the 
 enemy — and, if possible, provoke them to defend it. On 
 the 15th of July, he opened his batteries, and having 
 made a breach, stormed, and took it. Finding this had 
 no effect, he planned a bolder movement— to cross over 
 and seize Fife, and thus out-flanking the Scotch, cut off 
 their supplies. This brought on a fierce battle between 
 Overton and the garrison of Fife. Re-inforcements 
 were sent in all haste to the latter ; but Lambert com- 
 ing up at the same time, to the help of Overton, the 
 enemy were completely routed, with the loss of nearly 
 two thousand slain, and a large number of prisoners. 
 The fort of Inchgarvie, hitherto deemed impregnable, 
 next fell. Burntisland followed — of still greater account, 
 from its having a fine harbor, in which the ships 
 with supplies, could ride. Cromwell then marched on 
 Johnston — a place commanding the pass of Stirling, 
 through which all the supplies from the Highlands 
 came — and took it. 
 
1651.] BOLD MARCH OF THE ENEMY. 329 
 
 The strong defences of Stirling, by this flank move- 
 ment, were uncovered ; and the Scotch leaders saw that 
 they must risk a battle on somewhat equal terms, or 
 evacuate the place. In these desperate circumstances, 
 it was boldly resolved " to carry the war into Africa ;" 
 and marching straight for England, endeavor to rouse 
 the loyalty of the country. Full sixteen thousand 
 strong, the army crossed the borders, near Carlisle, on 
 the 6th of August, and pressed rapidly southward. So 
 sudden and unexpected was this movement, that it 
 filled England with consternation, and parliament itself 
 with alarm. « Cromwell, too, was taken by surprise at 
 this exhibition of energy and daring in an army that 
 had hitherto evinced so much hesitation and want of 
 confidence. Comprehending, however, at once, the 
 full extent of the danger, he immediately wrote to par- 
 liament not to be alarmed, as he would soon overtake, 
 and vanquish the enemy ; and, in the meantime, hurried 
 off an express to Harrison, already on the borders, to 
 impede the king's march as much as possible. Lambert 
 was also despatched in hot haste, with five regiments 
 of horse and dragoons, to fall on the enemy's rear, and 
 harass him into delays. 
 
 Scotland was still unsettled, and demanded the 
 presence and management of Cromwell ; but hastily 
 adopting such measures as would secure what was 
 already won, he left six thousand men under Lieuten- 
 ant-General Monk ; and taking only ten regiments 
 and eight cannon with him, set off in full pursuit. 
 Pressing his enthusiastic troops to the top of their 
 
330 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 speed, he crossed the Tyne, only six days after Charles. 
 The Scotch army, steering southward through Lan- 
 cashire, was bravely met at Warrington Bridge by 
 Harrison ; but bearing down all resistance by its over- 
 whelming numbers, it swept steadily on. At length, 
 however, the leaders growing disheartened at the 
 coldness of the towns through which they passed, and 
 the steady refusal of every garrison to surrender ; 
 resolved to leave the London road, and turn aside to 
 Worcester. 
 
 All this time, like a dark resistless storm, Cromwell 
 came thundering on their rear ; while the sound of 
 rising arms was heard on every side. In a short time, 
 40,000 militia were raised for the defence of the nation. 
 He, however, did not wait for these new levies to arrive, 
 but re-inforcing himself as he best could, collected, by 
 extraordinary efforts, 30,000 men, and swept swiftly 
 down on Worcester. 
 
 BATTLE OF WORCESTER. 
 
 The town of Worcester, well fortified, lay upon the 
 eastern side of the Severn ; while opposite to it, and 
 connected with it by a bridge, were strong works, 
 heavily garrisoned ; so that the place could not easily 
 be approached from either bank. These outposts were 
 on a tongue of land made by the river Team, which 
 empties into the Severn just below them ; so that in 
 advancing upon Worcester from that side, one must 
 first cross the Team, then carry the works before he 
 
1651.] ADVANCES ON WORCESTER. 331 
 
 could pass the Severn by the bridge which connected 
 the two banks. 
 
 Cromwell came down along the bank on which the 
 town stood, where the defences, strong by nature, had 
 been by art rendered almost impregnable. Hurrying 
 on with his advanced guard, he arrived at night before 
 the place, five days in advance of the main army. He 
 found all the bridges broken down — every boat removed 
 — new defences thrown up, and preparations made 
 for a stern resistance ; while in the long lines of fires, 
 that streaked the heights, and threw a ruddy glare on 
 the heavens, he saw what a formidable force was there, 
 ready to repel his assaults. 
 
 But on the very night of his arrival, Lambert crossed 
 over the Severn at Upton, a few miles below Worces- 
 ter ; and assailing Massey drove him from his post, 
 and occupied it himself. The bridge had been destroy- 
 ed ; but Lambert's men, dismounting from their horses, 
 crawled silently across on a single piece of timber, which 
 stretched from arch to arch ; and forming on the 
 opposite shore, took the enemy by surprise, and repaired 
 the bridge. 
 
 Cromwell, in the meantime, pushed his reconnoi- 
 sances on every side ; and by Tuesday night, September 
 2d, when Fleetwood, with the main army, arrived, had 
 his plans all matured. He would not wait for re-in- 
 forcements, nor till the troops could rest from their long 
 and wearisome marches : for the next day was the 
 3d of September — the anniversary of the glorious battle 
 of Dunbar, and his fortunate day ; — and so he pushed 
 
332 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Fleetwood, that night, over the bridge which Lambert 
 had repaired. At day-light, this gallant officer began 
 to advance ; and marching up opposite Worcester, 
 prepared to attack the works connected with it by the 
 Severn bridge. But the river Team arrested his 
 progress, and he was compelled to halt and build a 
 bridge of boats across it. Between him and Cromwell 
 in full view on the opposite bank, lay this small stream, 
 together with the narrow tongue of land formed by its 
 junction with the Severn, and the Severn itself. The 
 arrangement was, to have Fleetwood attack these out- 
 posts, and endeavor to force his way across the Severn 
 bridge into Worcester ; while Cromwell, on his side of 
 the river, should fall on Fort Royal, and storm the town. 
 It was, however, of the utmost importance to restore the 
 communication between the portions of his army now 
 broken by the Severn ; so that each could help the 
 other, in case of need. So while Fleetwood was throw- 
 ing a bridge of boats across the Team, Cromwell threw 
 another — the extremities of the two separated only by 
 the tongue of land formed by the junction of the rivers 
 — over the Severn, to the same point. All day long, the 
 sound of the hammer and the heavy fall of timber, were 
 heard on the banks ; while the towers and cathedrals of 
 Worcester were crowded with spectators, watching the 
 terrific preparations. There, too, stood the youthful 
 king, surrounded by his officers, and speaking in anxious 
 tones of the coming struggle. 
 
 At length, late in the afternoon, the bridges were 
 Completed, and Fleetwood, from his side, marched over 
 
1651.] BATTLE OF WORCESTER. 333 
 
 the Team, to attack the works of St. John. Cromwell, 
 hurrying everything on with the utmost despatch, had 
 chafed like a lion in the toils, as the sun of his fortunate 
 day declined ; and hence, no sooner saw his bridge com- 
 plete, than he spurred upon it at the head of his column, 
 and was the first man across. The Scotch officers, from 
 the top of the cathedral, saw the dark masses upon the 
 opposite side of the town move upon their works, and 
 immediately despatched a strong re-inforcement across 
 to their support. 
 
 In the meantime, the scene of carnage had commenc- 
 ed. Amid the roar of cannon and shouts of defiance, 
 Fleetwood had charged, like fire, on the strong de- 
 fences of the scotch, and, driving them from hedge to 
 hedge, threatened to carry everything before him. In 
 the tumult of the fight, he did not hear the clattering 
 squadrons that were hurrying over the bridge to the 
 relief of the enemy, and was pushing his slight advan- 
 tage gallantly when these fresh troops burst upon him. 
 He bore up nobly against the overwhelming numbers, 
 and for awhile successfully breasted the torrent ; but, 
 gradually overpowered, he gave ground, and was rolling 
 heavily back towards the Team, when Cromwell, who 
 saw his danger, hurried battalion after battalion, with as- 
 tonishing rapidity, over his bridge of boats, which rush- 
 ing with shouts to the attack restored the tide of battle. 
 The king and his officers, from their elevated position, 
 had a bird's eye view of the whole scene, and hence 
 could take advantage of every change. No sooner, 
 therefore, did they see what heavy forces Cromwell was 
 
334 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 taking over to the assistance of Fleetwood, than they 
 resolved to sally out, and fall on those left behind before 
 help could be rendered. In a moment, the trumpets 
 sounded, and the excited columns began to pour forth. 
 But Oliver, whom no surprise could find unprepared, 
 was already back amid his men, and, cheering them by 
 his presence and his voice, waited the attack. The 
 onset of the Scotch was tremendous — despair lent them 
 energy, and discharging their pieces in the very faces 
 of the republicans, they rushed on them with levelled 
 pikes, and the conflict became close and bloody. Crom- 
 well, finding his troops beginning to shake, forgot he 
 was lord-general, and with his sword flashing over his 
 head, and his eye glancing fire, galloped where the shot 
 fell thickest. His rough voice was heard above the 
 tumult, as, carried away by that strange excitement 
 which mastered him at Dunbar, he cheered on his men. 
 Hour after hour, they stood under the murderous fire, 
 and charged desperately on the stands of pikes, but not 
 an inch did the resolute Scotch yield. At length the 
 republicans gave way — many of them being raw 
 recruits — and the bleeding line swung disorderly 
 back. In this dreadful crisis, Cromwell dashed up to 
 his own favorite regiment, which he had held in 
 reserve, and led them on in person. With the terrible 
 shout, that rolled so ominously over the fields of Dun- 
 bar, " The Lord of Hosts ! the Lord of Hosts !" 
 this veteran regiment closed sternly around their be- 
 loved chieftain, and in one, dark, resistless wave, swept 
 full on the victorious enemy. The panic-stricken 
 
1651.] THE BATTLE-FIELD. 335 
 
 Scotch, arrested in their onward course, borne back, 
 trampled under foot, and broken into fragments, before 
 that astonishing charge, turned and fled into the town 
 The excited republicans followed after, and swarming 
 around Fort Royal, summoned it to surrender. The 
 commander refusing, " it was carried, in all the wild 
 triumph of victory, by a furious storm." And fifteen 
 hundred men swept, as by a sudden tempest, into the 
 world of spirits. The guns were then turned upon the 
 enemy, and the cannon-balls went ploughing through the 
 shattered and flying ranks with frightful effect. 
 
 Fleetwood, too, victorious on his side, had driven the 
 enemy from their position, and pursuing them over the 
 bridge, entered the town : — then the sacking and slaugh- 
 ter commenced. The clatter of flying cavalry — inces- 
 sant volleys of musketry — the close struggle between vic- 
 torious and despairing men — the shouts and shrieks, 
 the groans of women, children, and combatants, com- 
 bined to make the night hideous, and the last battle of 
 Cromwell one of the most fearful of his life. 
 
 At length, the strife ceased; and streets strewed with 
 wrecks of the fight, rivulets of blood welling from un- 
 derneath heaps of corpses ; and pale and mangled men, 
 scattered on every side, crying piteously for water, at- 
 tested how fierce and sanguinary the struggle had been. 
 It is said, that after all was over, as Cromwell stood and 
 gazed on the scene in the starlight, he burst into a 
 boisterous laugh. The excitement had been too great 
 for his weak and over- wrought system; and he was 
 almost wild with excitement. No wonder — arising from 
 
336 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 a sick bed, he had been strung to the greatest efforts, 
 and wrought to the highest pitch of feeling ; and then, 
 without the least repose, fought one of the most des- 
 perate battles of his life, in which victory, for a long 
 time, wavered to and fro. 
 
 But this burst of passion soon subsided ; and return- 
 ing to his tent at ten o'clock, he sat down, as he him- 
 self says, "weary, and scarce able to write," and sent 
 his despatch to parliament. He declared that " the di- 
 mensions of his mercy were above his thoughts." In- 
 deed," said he, "it is, for aught / know, a crowning 
 mercy" It proved such to him ; for it put the three 
 kingdoms under his control. The Scotch army was 
 utterly shivered — scarce three thousand of it ever 
 being heard of again. Tp swell, if possible, this tri- 
 umph ; two days before, Monk had stormed Dundee, and 
 carried it with great slaughter. 
 
 When the news reached London, the population was 
 thrown into paroxysms of joy. On the Sabbath, Crom- 
 well's despatches were read in all the pulpits ; and the 
 low " hallelujahs," and deep " amens," that rolled from 
 Puritan breasts, evinced the uncontrollable emotions 
 that mastered them. 
 
 Oliver remained a few days after the battle, to give 
 orders respecting the prisoners, among whom were 
 many nobles* — some of whose heads were destined to 
 
 * Seven earls, and others of inferior rank; two major-generals; 
 nineteen colonels ; seventeen lieutenant-generals, and other officers 
 in proportion. The Duke of Hamilton had his leg broken, and died 
 on the fourth day. 
 
1651.] REVIEW OF HIS CAREER. 337 
 
 the block — and level the walls of the town to the 
 ground, and fill up the ditches ; then started for London, 
 where he arrived on the 12th, amid discharges of can- 
 non and acclamations that shook the city to its foun- 
 dations. The lord-mayor feasted him ; and parliament 
 voted him thanks, and emoluments to the amount of 
 £4000 per annum. The transition from such sudden 
 danger into complete security, intoxicated the people ; 
 and Cromwell stood on the pinnacle of power. 
 
 In Scotland, the work of complete subjugation was 
 completed by Monk, who, by his energy and discipline, 
 succeeded in securing order and peace, such as the 
 government had sought in vain to attain. 
 
 The battle of Worcester finished Cromwell's mili- 
 tary career. From that time forward he was to be 
 supreme ruler in England. His last battle had been 
 fought — his last victory won ; and it only remained to 
 gather up the fruits of his toil. 
 
 At this point, it is natural to pause, and look back on 
 his career. 
 
 From 1642, when the first battle of Edgehill was 
 fought, to the battle of Worcester, 1651, were years of 
 trouble and uncertainty. During this period of toil and 
 of victory, Cromwell moves before us like some resistless 
 power, crushing everything that would stay its progress. 
 Simple, austere, and decided, he maintains his ascen- 
 dancy over the army ; and, with the Psalms of David 
 on his lips, and the sword of war in his hand, sweeps 
 over his victorious battle-fields, like a leader of the host 
 of Israel. Never cast down by reverses, or dismayed 
 15 
 
338 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 by danger, he meets every crisis with the coolness and 
 self-possession of a great mind. 
 
 Whether fighting with the Scots against the king, or 
 beleaguering Edinburgh with his little army — whether 
 quelling rebellion in different parts of the realm, or 
 bending his vast energies against his monarch in a 
 pitched battle, he rises before us the same determined, 
 self-collected, and resolute man. Whether bowed in 
 fasting and prayer before God, or trampling down the 
 ranks of the enemy, under the hoofs of his cavalry — 
 whether lost in a strange enthusiasm over a Psalm of 
 David, or standing alone — the rock around which the 
 waves of the revolution finally calmed themselves to 
 rest, or sank in fruitless rage — he exhibits the same lofty 
 purpose and upright heart. Dismayed by no obstacle, 
 disheartened by no reverses, he leans in solemn faith on 
 the arm of the God of battles and of truth. Without 
 the feverish anxiety which belongs to ambition, or the 
 dread of defeat that accompanies love of glory, he is 
 impelled onward by a feeling of duty, and loses himself 
 in the noble cause for which he is struggling. Acting 
 under the eye of heaven, with his thoughts fixed on 
 that dread judgment where he must render up a faith- 
 ful record of his deeds, he vacillates only when he 
 , doubts what is right, and fears only when a pure God 
 rises before him. 
 
 Nothing but noble motives could have drawn him, 
 at his age, into the career he followed. The fervor 
 and enthusiasm of youth had fled, and he had reached 
 an age when the call of ambition begins to sound faint 
 
1651.] HIS CAREER. 339 
 
 and doubtful. A sober, religious farmer, he girded on 
 the sword when forty-three years of age : and taking 
 his oldest son, who bore his name, entered the field, 
 where anything but glory seemed to be the promised 
 reward. That beloved son he saw fall before the blow 
 of the foeman ; and though he had a wife and family 
 to bind him to life, he seemed to be unconscious he had 
 a life to lose. By his bold and decided action, his rapid 
 movement, his rigid discipline, and boiling courage, he 
 triumphed over the most overwhelming obstacles, per- 
 formed prodigies of valor, and filled the world with the 
 renown of his deeds ; and yet, he refused all praise to 
 himself, referring everything to the goodness of God. 
 Yet, there was no blind credulity in this reliance on 
 heaven — no sluggish dependence ; for he strained every 
 nerve, and employed every means, as if all rested on 
 himself. He trusted both in God and his own great soul. 
 That he carried his ideas of special Providence too far, 
 few of the present day will doubt. He thought the 
 glorious era, when the Israelites marched behind the 
 pillar of fire and of cloud, and were guided in every 
 step by the direct interposition of heaven, might be 
 restored. 
 
 No one who has studied his character deeply, can 
 doubt that he contemplated establishing a kind of the- 
 ocracy, in which the nation should be a pure church, 
 and God its Head. That so thorough a practical man 
 should have nourished so visionary a theory, seems 
 strange enough ; but the truth is, notwithstanding his 
 stern, rugged, and unpoetic nature, Cromwell had a 
 
340 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 touch of superstition about him, which his matter 
 of fact character and practical life could not remove. 
 This did not turn him into a wild fanatic, or drive 
 him into monkish habits or gloom; nor even fetter 
 the free action of his mental powers; it only gave 
 them a religious direction. He thus became an 
 enthusiast, and startled men with those sudden in- 
 spirations that sometimes flash forth from the soul 
 of genius, like foreshadowings of future events. He 
 saw farther than the other great men of his time, 
 and alone was capable of conducting the revolu- 
 tion to the goal it reached. As a military man, he 
 showed no extraordinary depth of combination, and in- 
 troduced no improvements in military science: yet 
 he beat the best generals of the kingdom, fought suc- 
 cessfully against the most overwhelming numbers, and 
 gained every battle he fought. 
 
 It is idle to speak of such a man as a mere creature 
 of circumstances. Facts are better than theories — and 
 the power of Cromwell obtained ; the success that attend- 
 ed every effort, and the steady hand with which he held 
 all the raging elements of the revolution in check, prove 
 him to have possessed a character of amazing strength, 
 even though it exhibited no single extraordinary quality. 
 Sudden and great success may attend a weak mind in 
 certain favorable circumstances, but in a long protract- 
 ed and complicated struggle, the strong man alone 
 wins. The plebeian, who in England under any circum- 
 stances, can bring successfully to his feet, king, parlia- 
 ment, and people — quietly and firmly seat himself down 
 
1651.] REVIEWING HIS CAREER. 341 
 
 on the throne of the British empire — wield its vast des- 
 tinies, control its amazing energies, and after years of 
 experience die in peace and power, leaving a flourishing 
 commonwealth to his successor — must possess a grasp 
 of thought and power seldom found in a single soul. 
 
 There is no difficulty in analyzing the career of Crom- 
 well. Divided into two parts, military and civil, it 
 exhibits his character and motives clear as noonday. 
 He commenced as captain of a troop, and gradually 
 fought his way up to commmander-in-chief of the army. 
 With a tenacity of will that nothing could shake, 
 and courage that nothing could resist ; simple and frank 
 in his manners, given to no excesses, and claiming 
 no share of the plunder, he soon gained such influence 
 over the soldiers, that they would follow him into any 
 danger. In short, the success which attended all his 
 efforts made him necessary to the army ; so that after 
 the self-denying ordinance was passed, he was retained 
 by special command, month after month, until finally no 
 one thought of removing him. 
 
 With perfect command over himself and his followers 
 in the heat of battle — carried away by no victory — be- 
 guiled into no pursuit ; he always stopped at the right 
 place, and with wonderful self-possession and skill, rallied 
 his men and poured them afresh on the enemy. The 
 severe discipline, to which he subjected his soldiers, 
 placed them at his control in the midst of the wildest 
 confusion. This, doubtless, was one great cause of his 
 success. 
 
 His civil and political life, up to the' battle of Wor- 
 
342 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 cester, was more or less merged into that of others, and 
 was also simply a struggle against the oppression and 
 injustice of those in power. Almost constantly in the 
 field, all his attention and thought were given to the 
 army. 
 
 But his battles are now over, and he turns and con- 
 centrates all his power on civil matters, and hereafter 
 we are to contemplate him solely as a statesman. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 FROM THE BATTLE OF WORCESTER TO THE PROTEC- 
 TORATE — 1651 to 1653. 
 
 Cromwell Moves that Parliament Fix a Day for Its Dissolution — The 
 Rump Parliament — Cromwell's Course Defended — Death of Ireton 
 — Malice of Cromwell's Biographers — Navigation Act — War v/ith 
 the Dutch — Victories of Blake — Attempt of Parliament to Crush the 
 Army and Cromwell — Treachery of Members — Dispersion of Par- 
 liament by Cromwell and His Musketeers — Defence of the Measure 
 — Barebones' Parliament — Its Extraordinary Character — Dissolves 
 Itself — The Dutch Sue for Peace — Cromwell Proclaimed Lord 
 Protector. 
 
 From the battle of Worcester, to the dissolution of 
 the rump parliament, April, 1653, Cromwell's part in 
 the history of the commonwealth, lies obscure. One 
 of his first steps, on taking his seat in the House of 
 Commons, was to move that the act of oblivion to po- 
 litical offenders, long since proposed, should become a 
 law; and accordingly, an amnesty was granted to 
 all previous to 1648. But many of those taken in 
 the last victory, and among them Count Derby, were 
 executed.* He next moved, that parliament should fix 
 a day for its own dissolution ; which, after much severe 
 debate, it was decided should be the 13th of Novem- 
 ber, 1654, or three years fromthat time. 
 * Vide Carlyle. 
 
344 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 This parliament, which had received the nick-names 
 of "fag-end," and "rump parliament," from its being 
 composed of the remnants of the long parliament, was 
 looked upon with general dissatisfaction. Reduced to 
 a hundred, or a hundred and twenty-one members, not 
 even half of whom took any part in its business, it 
 constituted a government wholly unequal to the exi- 
 gencies of the times, though it numbered among its 
 members some extraordinary men — such as the younger 
 Vane and Henry Marten. Yet, they were not strictly 
 the representatives of the people — they were a sort of 
 provisional government, whose existence and power 
 were needed only while immediate danger threatened 
 the Commonwealth. But, as that danger was now over, 
 the first thought of every man was — and prudence dic- 
 tated that it should be — a new and fair representation 
 of the kingdom, to decide in general congress, on what 
 principles the government and nation should be settled. 
 Cromwell, with his usual sagacity, saw that nothing else 
 would do ; and hence, he moved that immediate action 
 be taken on the subject — hoping that a parliament which 
 had made itself so renow T ned abroad, and so terrible at 
 home, would name an early day for its dissolution. In 
 this he was disappointed, as he was doomed to be in 
 every measure he brought forward to prevent evil, 
 which none but himself seemed able to foresee. He 
 would have saved the former parliament, by inducing 
 it to be just to the army ; and the kingdom from anar- 
 chy, by prevailing on the king to be reasonable ; and 
 had failed in both : and now. the first, use he made of 
 
1651.] RUMP PARLIAMENT. 345 
 
 his great influence was, to urge a measure which, if it 
 had been properly carried out, would have erected an 
 effectual barrier against his ascent to supreme pow- 
 er : — yet, strange as it may seem, this has been ad- 
 duced as another proof of his insincerity. Nothing 
 was plainer to him than that this parliament would 
 never do for England ; and he wished to supply a sub- 
 stitute, before the wants of the kingdom, and the whole 
 people, should call on him to be that substitute. If, 
 therefore, he had opposed, instead of introduced, this 
 motion, there would have been good ground for suspi- 
 cion of secret ambition. 
 
 But the rump parliament had become intoxicated 
 with the love of power, and resolved to exercise it at 
 least three years longer ; and Oliver looked sadly on, to 
 see what would come of it glad — his enemies, destitute 
 alike of honor and truth, say — because it would more 
 effectually disgrace itself in the eyes of the nation. Like 
 the wolf in the fable, they will have him in the wrong 
 at any rate. If he had proposed that the parliament 
 should sit indefinitely, they would have declared it re- 
 vealed the ambitious hypocrite, who wished its rottenness 
 and inefficiency to become so apparent, that the people 
 would gladly have it broken up, even at the pike's point. 
 But he was the first to propose a dissolution ; and they 
 now assert, that he neither hoped nor expected it to 
 take place. Do what he will, there is some selfish de- 
 sign lurking at the bottom, which it is the duty of the 
 historian to guess at, and then declare his guess to be a 
 fact. If he does nothing, or is away, the same sinister 
 
346 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 design is the cause of his silence or absence. There is 
 one consolation, however — his most venomous foes have 
 not dared to assail his private character, if we except 
 Voltaire, whose effort has only brought contempt on 
 himself. 
 
 The next month (the 8th of December) the noble 
 Ireton died in Ireland. Carrying out the plan of his 
 father-in-law, he rapidly subjugated the whole island; but, 
 on the reduction of Limerick, he was seized with inflam - 
 matory fever, and after an illness of ten days, rested 
 from his severe labors. This blow fell heavily on 
 Cromwell, who tenderly loved his upright, high-minded, 
 and gallant son-in-law. He had stood shoulder to 
 shoulder with him in the hard-fought battle, and wit- 
 nessed his integrity in the hall of council ; and with 
 more than ordinary pride, given him his daughter for a 
 bride. A pure patriot — incorruptible, fearless, and reso- 
 lute, he was a strong man in those perilous times, and a 
 firm support to Cromwell. It is true, as old White- 
 locke says, " he was very stiff in his ways and pur- 
 poses ;" and, probably, had more influence over his 
 father-in-law, than any other man. He had all his iron 
 will ; and wielded the pen as well as the sword. Bred a 
 lawyer, he understood better than most of the repub- 
 lican leaders, the affairs of state, and "was exceedingly 
 forward as to the business of the Commonwealth." 
 
 After the battle of Worcester, parliament voted not 
 only £4000 per annum to Cromwell, but also £2000 to 
 Ireton, and other sums to Monk, Whalley, Okey, and 
 Alured. Ireton was the only man who refused to re- 
 
1651.] HIS TRADUCERS. 347 
 
 ceive his portion. A stern republican he looked with 
 Spartan contempt on the pomp and luxuries with which 
 others were pleased, and wrote to parliament that " he 
 did not wish their gifts, that they had many just debts, 
 which he desired they would pay before they made any 
 such presents ; that he had no need of their land, and, 
 therefore, would not have it ; and should be better 
 pleased to see them doing the service of the nation, 
 than so liberal in disposing of the public treasure."* 
 Every one is compelled to acknowledge the purity of 
 Ireton's intentions, and his integrity of character. But 
 he clung faithfully to Cromwell ; and so his enemies un- 
 blushingly declare, without the shadow of proof, that if 
 he had lived he would have opposed his ambitious 
 father-in-law. To perfect this singular logic, they go 
 a step farther, and assert that Cromwell was glad to 
 hear of his son-in-law's death. Making their own 
 mean suspicions the basis of their argument, they draw 
 conclusions more dishonorable to themselves than to 
 the man they would traduce. Yet Villemain puts it 
 down as a fact, and even Forster has incorporated it in 
 his " Statesmen of the Commonwealth of England." If 
 the latter had paused a moment to think, he could not 
 have been guilty of an act of such base injustice. To 
 accuse a father, and such a father as Cromwell, of re- 
 joicing that a son-in-law, who had ever been true as 
 steel to his fortunes — the bravest heart of all that sur- 
 rounded him — was dead, even though it broke his 
 daughter's heart, because there was a chance that he 
 * Vide Ludlow's Memoirs. 
 
348 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 might, at some future time, stand in the way of his 
 ambition, is one of the meanest and falsest accusations 
 that unblushing hatred ever uttered. When malice or 
 prejudice can descend so low, we are not surprised to 
 find one man* who boldly charges Cromwell with being 
 a coward. A more affectionate parent than he never 
 lived — all his letters breathe the fondest love. From 
 the perilous edge of battle — in the midst of the weary 
 march, or bustle of preparation — from the field of the 
 dead, he wrote to his wife and children, inquiring after 
 all their little household affairs, and caring for all their 
 troubles, as if the welfare of a nation were not resting 
 on his heart. 
 
 Ireton's body was brought over from Ireland, and the 
 most imposing ceremonies decreed in its honor. Lam- 
 bert was appointed lord-deputy in his place, but did not 
 go — rumor said, because Widow Ireton did not wish to 
 give place to the handsome Lady Lambert, her rival. 
 Fleetwood was finally sent, and being a widower, in 
 process of time married the former. 
 
 While Cromwell was endeavoring to make parlia- 
 ment settle on some plan for the future government of 
 the nation — assembling, again and again, the principal 
 statesmen to discuss the question at his house, and giving 
 as his own fixed opinion, that one with something of a 
 monarchical power in it was to be preferred — the 
 government had got into difficulty with the Dutch. 
 Scotland, and Ireland, and the islands of Scilly, Jersey, 
 &c. ; which formerly caused so much trouble, had been 
 * Crawford, who is defended by Holies. 
 
1650.] WAR WITH THE DUTCH. 349 
 
 reduced to submission, while Portugal, alarmed at the 
 danger it had provoked by sheltering Prince Rupert, 
 had acknowledged its error, and promised amendment. 
 But the United Provinces, which had always sympa- 
 thized with the royal family, and protected its members, 
 now jealous of the growing power of a sister republic, 
 hesitated not to commit aggressive acts. Dr. Dorislaus, 
 formerly sent out as ambassador, had been assassinated 
 and no satisfaction given. Oliver St. John went next, 
 to propose a settlement of difficulties, but was treated 
 with so much insult that he returned indignant, and im- 
 mediately set on foot measures of retaliation, and caused 
 the celebrated Navigation Act, prohibiting the importa- 
 tion of goods into England, except in English vessels, 
 to be passed.* Holland claimed supremacy of the seas, 
 and made immense profits in the carrying trade at 
 which this Act struck a death-blow. Hence, when it 
 was received there, "it changed," says a quaint writer of 
 that period, " the constitution of that people from a 
 phlegmatic to a perfect sanguine complexion." Nego- 
 tiations followed, but were broken off by the com- 
 mencement of hostilities at sea. Van Tromp, at the 
 head of the Dutch fleet, and Blake, the English admiral — 
 who, though he did not begin his military life till fifty 
 years of age, was now the first naval officer in the 
 world — came in collision, at Dover, about a mere matter 
 of etiquette, and after a fierce fight parted — the Dutch 
 having much the worst of it. 
 
 Sir George Asycough, also, with forty ships, attacked 
 
 * October 9th, 1651. 
 
350 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the famous De Ruyter with fifty, but after a severe en- 
 gagement was compelled to let his antagonist, with his 
 convoy of merchantmen, go his way. In October, 
 another battle was fought, between Blake and Tromp, 
 on the coast of Kent, in which the Dutch were roughly 
 handled. The next month, however, Blake was sadly 
 beaten by his antagonist, who had been re-inforced with 
 De Ruyter's fleet. Tromp was so elated by the victory, 
 that he nailed a broom to his mast, to intimate that he 
 would sweep the English fleet from the sea. But in 
 February of the next year, Blake, with a fleet of eighty 
 sail, assisted by Dean and Monk — who having finished 
 their fighting on land had been tranferred to the sea — ■ 
 came up with the Dutch fleet of seventy-six sail off 
 Portland, and immediately engaged it. The battle 
 lasted three days, during which time there were such a 
 cannonading and uproar as are seldom heard on the 
 deep. Nearly 2000 men were slain on either side, and 
 1500 Dutch prisoners taken. The English claimed the 
 victory; though Tromp made a skilful retreat, and 
 saved most of his ships. 
 
 From this time onward, fortune constantly declared 
 against the Dutch : their merchantmen were captured ; 
 their commerce destroyed ; their pride humbled ; and 
 they at last compelled to sue for peace. 
 
 In the meantime, events were hastening to a crisis in 
 parliament. Everyday it separated farther and farther 
 from Cromwell, until, at length, they occupied the ground 
 of direct hostility to each other. The former, like their 
 predecessors the Presbyterians, resolved to get rid of the 
 
1652.] PETITION OF OFFICERS. 351 
 
 army, so that they might safely attack Cromwell ; and 
 hence introduced resolutions for its reduction. The lat- 
 ter, however, easily penetrated their designs, and resolved 
 to thwart them— peacefully, if he could, by persuasion 
 and argument — and for this purpose held conference 
 after conference with the leading members. These pro- 
 ducing no effect, a petition was presented from the offi- 
 cers of the army, praying, first, that measures might be 
 taken for the propagation of the gospel, and encourage- 
 ment of godly ministers. 2d. That the administration 
 of the law might be regulated, so that justice could be 
 secured. 3d. That profane and unworthy persons be 
 removed from places of trust. 4th. That the abuses of 
 the excise be corrected. 5th. That those who had loaned 
 money on the public faith be paid. 6th and 7th. That 
 the soldiers might be paid their arrears, and the treaties 
 made with the enemy fulfilled. 8th. That the yearly 
 revenues of the State should be placed in the treasury, 
 and a yearly report rendered. The 9th specification 
 struck at monopolies, pluralities, &c. The 10th, at 
 public beggary, and vagabondism in general. The 
 12th, and the last, had reference to a new parliament 
 and the manner of electing it. This petition was 
 referred to a committee, and then the bill for the 
 dissolution of parliament came up. 
 
 This was in the autumn of 1652 ; and soon after (in 
 November), a conversation is reported by Whitelocke 
 to have occurred between him and Cromwell, in St. 
 James's Park, in which the latter openly hinted at mak- 
 ing himself king. Most writers of this period, give this 
 
352 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 dialogue in full; but it seems strange any reasonable 
 man can put faith in its correctness. It was written after 
 the restoration, when the memory of this weak-headed, 
 supple, and fawning minister, might well forget, or add, 
 in order to escape punishment from Charles II. He makes 
 out that he himself strongly urged on Cromwell to call 
 Charles II. to the throne — a thing, he would as soon 
 have cut off his head as done, if he suspected, as he 
 affirms he did, the ambitious designs of the lord-general. 
 If anything were wanting to render the whole dialogue 
 ridiculous, it is the assertion that Cromwell, after 
 this, treated him coolly, because he was afraid of 
 his opposition. Cromwell afraid of JVhitelocke ! Poor 
 Bulstrode must have reckoned largely on Charles Stu- 
 art's simplicity, to have supposed he would swallow this. 
 Oliver had, also, frequent consultations with his offi- 
 cers, respecting the course they should take ; and, in 
 the opening of the spring of 1653, it became evident 
 that the result of the generalship of the two parties, 
 would soon be made known. A bill had been intro- 
 duced into parliament, settling the basis of a new re- 
 presentation — one clause of which made the Rump 
 Parliament a part of the new. But, Oliver saw with 
 his far-searching glance, that clean work must be made, 
 and this war of factions ended ; and so he opposed the 
 bill. There were other features in it equally ob- 
 noxious ;* at all events, there is sufficient evidence that 
 it was not intended to secure the welfare of England, 
 but the overthrow of Cromwell. For three years they 
 
 * The bill was never preserved. 
 
1653.] BREAKS UP PARLIAMENT. 353 
 
 had been urged, in vain, to fix the day of their own 
 dissolution, and settle the mode of representation ; and 
 now, all at once, they wished to hurry the bill through 
 by stealth. 
 
 Cromwell has been accused of trickery and hypoc- 
 risy here ; but, will those who do so, tell us what they 
 think of the actions of parliament ? Forster's long and 
 explicit account of the causes leading to the breaking up 
 of the Rump Parliament, is unworthy of credit : for he 
 starts with the basis, that parliament was right and 
 Cromwell wrong throughout : and hence, believes every 
 word of his enemies, and denies the truth of all his de- 
 clarations, unless they can be tortured into evidence 
 against him. 
 
 BREAKING UP OF THE RUMP PARLIAMENT. 
 
 On the 19th of April, 1653, Cromwell held, in his 
 house in Whitehall, his last conference with the mem- 
 bers respecting the new bill under consideration. 
 About twenty were present ; and after long consulta- 
 tion, parted without having agreed upon anything. 
 They promised, however, to meet him again, next 
 morning, and consult farther. At the time appointed, 
 he repaired to the reception-room, and waited their 
 arrival. But not one of them came ; though messenger 
 after messenger arrived in breathless haste, announcing 
 that the bill was being hurried through parliament, and 
 would soon become a law. He could hardly believe it 
 possible that those twenty members, constituting nearly 
 
354 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 half of the House,* had deliberately lied to him, and were 
 resolved, by treachery and fraud, to carry their measures. 
 It was a dangerous experiment to endeavor to spring a 
 mine under Cromwell. Kings, parliaments, and ar- 
 mies, had ever found it so ; and it must go hard if this 
 little Rump Parliament could venture safely upon it. 
 
 No sooner was he convinced the news was true, than 
 he started for the House, taking Harrison, with a trusty 
 company of soldiers, with him. Placing one portion of 
 them at the door, another in the lobby, and about 
 twenty or thirty, just without the chamber, he entered 
 the House, and after pausing a moment on the thresh- 
 hold and surveying the members, advanced and took his 
 seat. At this time, his hair was sprinkled with grey ; 
 which, together with the plain black clothes he wore, gave 
 a venerable appearance to his countenance. Vane was 
 speaking when he entered, urging, with all the eloquence 
 he was master of, the necessity of immediate action on 
 the bill. Cromwell listened with the deepest attention, 
 until he closed his appeal ; and then, as the Speaker was 
 about to put the question, arose to reply. Calm and re- 
 spectful, at first, he alluded to the great work that had 
 been done, and gave them all honor for the part they 
 had borne in it ; but waxing warm as he proceeded, he 
 began to speak also of their injustice, delays, strifes, and 
 petty ambitions ; hurling fiercely accusation after accu- 
 sation, in their faces, till Wentworth rose, and making 
 his voice heard, rebuked him for his language. " Come, 
 come," broke forth Cromwell, " we have had enough of 
 * It consisted of fifty-three members on this day. 
 
1653.] RUMP PARLIAMENT VANISHES. 355 
 
 this. . I will put an end to your prating." He had now 
 fairly got on his battle face, and his large grey eyes 
 seemed to emit fire, as he strode forth on the floor of 
 the House; and clapping his hat on his head, and 
 stamping the floor with his feet, poured forth a torrent 
 of invective on the now thoroughly-alarmed parliament. 
 That speech is lost ; but it scathed like fire. " You," 
 said he to Vane, who interrupted him, " might have pre- 
 vented this, but you are a juggler, and have not so much 
 as common honesty. You are no parliament. I say, 
 you are no parliament. You have sat too long already ; 
 you shall now give place to better men ;" and turning 
 to his officer, Harrison, he gave a brief word of com- 
 mand, as he would on the field of battle ; and his brave 
 musketeers, with shouldered pieces, marched sternly in. 
 As he stood amid the weapons that had so often sur- 
 rounded him on the field of death, he began to launch 
 his thunderbolts on the right hand and on the left ; and 
 breaking over all ceremonies of speech, boldly named 
 the crimes of which they were guilty ; and closed up 
 with " Corrupt, unjust persons ; scandalous to the pro- 
 fession of the gospel. How can you be a parliament for 
 God's people ? Depart, I say, and let us have done with 
 you." And they went in hot haste, scourged by his 
 tongue, as they fled. " You," said he to Chaloner, " are 
 a drunkard." " You, Wentworth, an adulterer ;" and 
 as Marten passed, he asked, if a whore-master was fit 
 to govern. To Vane, who continued to remonstrate, 
 he exclaimed, " Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane ! 
 The Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane /" Then, 
 
356 OLTVER CROMWELL. 
 
 pointing to the Speaker, Lenthall, who still retained his 
 seat, he bid Harrison help him down ; which he did. 
 After all had departed, he took up the mace, and, look- 
 ing at it a moment, said to the soldiers, " Take away 
 this bauble." He then tore the bill of dissolution, which 
 had been under discussion, to pieces ; and ordering the 
 doors to be locked, turned away in the midst of his 
 guard, and repaired again to Whitehall.. 
 
 Thus ended the rump parliament ; and England lay- 
 on Cromwell's shoulders. So did Bonaparte march 
 into the council of five hundred, with his brave grena- 
 diers at his back. 
 
 But no sooner was this summary dissolution effected, 
 than Cromwell was heard to say, "Its you who have 
 forced me to this. I have sought the Lord, night and 
 day, that he would rather slay me, than put me upon 
 the doing of this work." But it was done ; and when 
 the first gust of passion had passed, he was himself again, 
 and took the government on his brave heart as calmly, 
 as if he were born a king. V\<^ 
 
 This dissolution of parliament is called a des- 
 potic and tyrannical act ; and so it was. But, will any 
 one tell us what other alternative was left. To sup- 
 pose that argument and reason would triumph in that 
 strife of factions and chaos of sentiments is absurd. 
 The truth is, England needed some strong hand to 
 steady her, and Cromwell's alone could do it. Power 
 was needed to overawe the imbecile and ambitious 
 spirits that were too ignorant to rule, and too selfish to 
 be united. His measures were high-handed; but we 
 
1651.] DEFENCE OF HIS CONDUCT. 357 
 
 cannot see what else could have been done, unless a 
 Stuart had been called in. Besides, he must either con- 
 sent to have all that for which he had periled his life, and 
 struggled so long to save, thrown away by ambitious men, 
 or resort to violence. The parliament pushed him to this 
 point, by compelling him to act suddenly, or be tricked 
 out of what he deemed to be essential to the welfare of 
 the country. He had saved the nation again and 
 again — indeed, not only laid the corner-stone, but the 
 topmost block, of that glorious structure of liberty ; and 
 it was " not right, not honest/' to endeavor to trample 
 him and the army into the dust. Moreover, the people 
 (the entire mind of the nation) wanted something per- 
 manent, around which it could settle. The Rump Par- 
 liament imparted no confidence, and gave no security. 
 Cromwell was the only man in England that could 
 keep the revolution from going backward. 
 
 In great revolutions, the supreme power must finally 
 always be lodged in the army, of which the successful 
 leader is the representative. The strong arm of power 
 is needed to mould the confused elements into form and 
 permanent shape — discussion and conventions never, 
 or seldom, can do it. True, Cromwell's course was 
 despotic ; but the cause of freedom, and the ends of 
 justice, demanded it. There is a difference between 
 the despotic act that crushes liberty, and the one that 
 quells lawless violence. The forms of justice must 
 sometimes be disregarded to save its spirit. 
 
 At all events, there was no outcry against this act. 
 The English people, who had not failed \o speak out 
 
358 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 boldly and plainly in every instance of arbitrary power, 
 let this pass in silence, or spoke only to sanction it. 
 The army and navy sent in their declarations that they 
 would stand or fall by Cromwell ; and all over the king- 
 dom there were thanksgivings and rejoicings. We 
 want no more conclusive evidence, that he acted in 
 accordance with the wishes of the nation. 
 
 Yet, writers treat the matter as if this parliament 
 was the real legitimate power of the realm, which he 
 found standing in the way of his ambition ; and so, in 
 a haughty spirit of tyranny, trampled it down. It had 
 the form of legality, and that was all — its continuance, 
 while reduced to a few men, and against the interests 
 and will of the nation, was, in fact, an usurpation. 
 Not over forty men ruled England, who, hiding them- 
 selves under the name of parliament, because there was 
 no authority but their own to dissolve them, usurped 
 power to which they had no claim. After the king's 
 death, instead of referring the government to the people, 
 they assumed the supreme power, and created high 
 courts of justice, and levied taxes without the consent of 
 the nation — in short, constituted themselves an irre- 
 sponsible oligarchy, and were bent on perpetuating their 
 rule. Was there to be no end to this ? or, could ten, 
 or, perhaps, five men, constitute a parliament of Eng- 
 land ? We imagine that Cromwell's friends viewed the 
 affair in a very different light from those who condemn 
 him so unqualifiedly. Charles knew that the parliament 
 he attempted to destroy, was the true and honest repre- 
 sentative ortSngland — Cromwell knew that the one he 
 
1653.] HIS LETTER TO THE SCOTCH. 359 
 
 exterminated, was not. Charles believed that the people 
 would regard it as an outrage on themselves — Cromwell, 
 that his act would meet with universal approbation. 
 Charles's despotic act, was for the sole purpose of assert- 
 ing his royaJ prerogatives — Cromwell's, to save England. 
 It is laughable to hear those who declaim loudest 
 against the death of the king as unconstitutional, pro- 
 nounce Cromwell a despot for breaking up the parlia- 
 ment that created the very court which tried him. 
 When this parliament condemns Charles, it is unworthy 
 of respect — but when Oliver breaks it up, it is a noble, 
 legislative body. 
 
 The same day on which he dissolved parliament, 
 he took Lambert and Harrison with him, and pro- 
 ceeded to the council of State, (of which Bradshaw 
 was still president,) and entering the chamber where 
 they sat, said, " Gentlemen, if you are met here as 
 private persons, you shall not be disturbed ; but if, as a 
 council of State, this is no place for you ; and since 
 you can't but know what was done at the House this 
 morning, so take notice that the parliament is dis- 
 solved." Bradshaw replied, "We have heard what 
 you did at the House in the morning ; and before many 
 hours, all England will hear it. But, you are mis- 
 taken to think that the parliament is dissolved ; for no 
 power under heaven can dissolve them, but themselves : 
 therefore, take notice of that."* But they went with 
 parliament ; and a new council of State, composed of 
 
 * Vide Ludlow's Memoirs. 
 
360 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 thirteen,* was formed, of which Cromwell was a mem- 
 ber. 
 
 The next morning, the Mercurius Politicus, a gov- 
 ernment paper, with that prudence and caution which 
 distinguishes government papers generally, had the fol- 
 lowing short and business-like notice of one of the most 
 momentous events that ever occurred in England: 
 "April 20th — The lord-general declared yesterday, in 
 parliament, divers reasons whereof a present period 
 should be put to the sitting of this parliament ; and it 
 was accordingly done, the Speaker and members all de- 
 parting — the grounds of which proceeding will (it's pro- 
 bable) shortly be made public. "f During the night, 
 some one put the following placard on the door of the 
 House of.Commons, " This house to let, unfurnished." % 
 
 A declaration appeared in a few days, giving the 
 reasons of the dissolution ; but, if any one wishes to be 
 convinced of the purity of Cromwell's motives, and the 
 integrity in which he performed this arbitrary act, let 
 him read the account of it in his speech before the par- 
 liament he soon after summoned. It is impossible for a 
 candid mind to peruse this carefully, without feeling, 
 however his reason may object, that he acted sincerely. 
 Truth is stamped on every line of it ; and though using 
 no eloquence, he speaks from the heart, and " straight 
 on," unburdening himself laboriously, yet fully. § 
 
 The summons which was issued six weeks after, to 
 
 * This number was preferred, because Christ and His apostles made 
 thirteen, 
 f Vide Godwin. t Foster's Statesmen. % Vide Appendix, No. V. 
 
1653.] LITTLE PARLIAMENT. 361 
 
 convoke the new parliament, was made out in the name 
 of Cromwell alone, and sent to a hundred and forty- 
 persons, all of whom, with the exception of two, 
 answered to the call, and assembled on the 4th of July, 
 in the council chamber of Whitehall. This parlia- 
 ment, called the Barebones Parliament,* from the name 
 
 *"It would be scarcely necessary to refer to the numberless vulgar 
 slanders and ridiculous fictions that have sprung out of this notorious 
 name, but that it too well expresses the spirit in which the history of 
 these times has (until of late) been written, to be altogether omitted. 
 For example, one historian talks of ' Praise-God Barebone ' having 
 had two brothers, the Christian name of the first of whom was Christ- 
 came-into-the-world-to-save ; and of the second, If- Christ -had-not 
 died-thou-hadst-bcen-damned. He introduces his anecdote with the 
 suspicious words, ' I have been informed that there were three bro- 
 thers ;' and adds, that ' some people, tired of the long name of the 
 younger brother, are said to have omitted the former part of the sen- 
 tence, and to have called him familiarly Damned Barebone.' Another 
 writer, according to Mr. Goodwin, the Reverend James Brome, in a 
 book of Travels over England, Scotland, and Wales, second edition, 
 1707, has endeavored to render the satire more complete, by giving 
 the names of a 'jury returned in the county of Sussex, in the late re- 
 bellious, troublesome times, as follows (p. 279): Accepted Trevor, of 
 Norsham ; Redeemed Compton, of Battel ; Faint-not Hewit, of Heath- 
 field ; Make-peace Heaton, of Hare ; God-reward Smart, of Tisehurst; 
 Stand-fast-on-high Stringer, of Crowhurst; Earth Adams, of Warble- 
 ton ; Called Lower, of the same ; Kill-sin Pimple, of Witham ; Re- 
 turn Spelman, of Watling; Be-faithful Joiner, of Britling ; Fly- 
 debate Roberts, of the same ; Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith White, of 
 Emer; More-fruit Fowler, of East Hodley: Hope-for Bending, of 
 the same ; Graceful Harding, of Lewes ; Weep-not Billing, of the 
 same ; Meek Brewer, of Okeham.' It is really scarcely credible that 
 this list should have been copied into Hume's History of England : 
 so it is, however, and Dr. Zachary Grey had previously given it the 
 authority of his name, if his name had been capable of bearing author- 
 16 
 
362 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 of one of the members from London, " Praise God Bar- 
 bones," was, certain])', a most extraordinary collection 
 of men. The grounds on which they were selected, 
 and the characters they bore, should for ever shield 
 Cromwell from the charge of being governed, in all 
 his acts, by selfish ambition. They prove, conclusively, 
 our statement, that he was deceived respecting the gov- 
 ernment that might be adopted. He verily believed 
 he was to restore the Israelitish theocracy, and that the 
 reign of the saints was to begin on earth ; and so did 
 half of England. The members were selected from 
 those named, at request of the council, by the congre- 
 gational churches in the different counties. These 
 churches were directed to return persons " faithful, 
 loving truth, fearing God, and hating covetousness;" 
 and also qualified for the management of affairs of Slate. 
 Never before did such a body of men assemble in the 
 form of parliament. Able statesmen there were among 
 them ; but the greater part had evidently more religious 
 enthusaism, than knowledge of civil matters, or taste 
 for them. 
 
 Cromwell's opening address was a justification of 
 the course he had taken, and all the reasons given, which 
 will be found, as stated above, in the Appendix ; and, 
 though lengthy, will amply repay the perusal. 
 
 Having finished his address, which occupied more 
 than an hour, he presented an instrument by which the 
 
 ity in matters which involved hatred to the Puritans. Unblinded by 
 such hatred, these men would have been the first to see that this no- 
 table list was a mere piece of of mauvaise plcasantcrie." Vide British 
 Statesmen, page 538. Neal also quotes this seriously. 
 
1653.] LITTLE PARLIAMENT. 363 
 
 government was surrendered to parliament till the 3d of 
 Nov., 1654. Three months previous to their dissolu- 
 tion, they were to choose persons to succeed them, who 
 should occupy their place and authority for one year, 
 and settle what the succeeding government should be. 
 He thus formally resigned all power — not even reserving 
 to himself a seat in their councils. He knew nothing, 
 or scarcely nothing, personally of these members, and 
 had no claims upon them. They were in no way crea- 
 tures of his to whom he thus intrusted the power he is ac- 
 cused of tyranically swaying. He knew them only to be 
 God-fearing men, full of sincerity, and of incorruptible 
 integrity. Will his enemies tell us why he gathered such 
 a body of men together, or what use he expected to 
 make of them in advancing his deep and dark designs ? 
 One would think he would have chosen more manage- 
 able tools, and placed about him those whom he knew, and 
 who were sworn to his interests. An ambitious tyrant 
 never selects those to co-operate with nim whom he 
 knows no bribery can corrupt, no threatenings awe, and 
 no selfish motives turn from their integrity. Though 
 many of them were of low origin, and fanatical in their 
 views, they were straightforward and true — fearing 
 nothing but the displeasure of God, and capable of 
 being governed only by honest dealing. There were a 
 few exceptions, but such was the character of the 
 majority of this Barebones Parliament. 
 
 The next morning after Cromwell's address, they 
 met, and spent the whole day, from eight till seven in 
 the evening, in prayer and exhortation — a strange me- 
 
364 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 thod for a parliament to adopt, and yet vastly better 
 than that adopted by most of our legislatures of the 
 present day to kill time. Having chosen Francis 
 Rouse, provost of Eton, and famous for his revision of 
 the Psalms, Speaker, they adjourned. The next day, 
 they proceeded to business. A new council of State 
 was soon after formed — or rather, eighteen members 
 were added to the original thirteen, making, in all 
 thirty-one. The day following this important move- 
 ment, was spent in prayer and exhortation ; and it was 
 the custom every morning to open a prayer-meeting as 
 soon as ten or a dozen members arrived, and keep it up 
 until a quorum was assembled. Truly, they were 
 " men fearing God." An address to the people of 
 England was voted, filled with noble sentiments, and 
 high Christian hopes that the day of the complete 
 triumph of religion had come, and the " glory of the 
 Lord was about to be revealed." 
 
 We will not specify all the acts of this extraordinary 
 parliament ; the most important were, one to abolish 
 tithes ; another, to provide for the support of a godly 
 ministry ; and a third, to do away with the Court of 
 Chancery, in which some 23000 causes lay locked up. 
 
 At length, on the 2d of December a motion was 
 made to appoint a travelling commission of Puritans to 
 clear the church of all base and heretical ministers. 
 The debate on this waxed high, and continued till the 
 10th, when parliament adjourned over to Monday. 
 On Monday morning early, before all had arrived, a mo- 
 ion was made and carried itthat the parliament should 
 
1653.] INCONSISTENCY. 365 
 
 be dissolved. The Speaker, preceded by the mace and 
 accompanied by his friends, then walked to Whitehall and 
 formally surrendered to Cromwell the power with which 
 he had been entrusted. The latter was surprised and 
 deeply moved at this sudden result : — his enemies, how- 
 ever, say his emotion was entirely feigned, and that it 
 was his work throughout. If he had shown signs of 
 joy, it would have revealed his part in the matter — as 
 he exhibited regret, it also proved his inward delight — 
 at least it must have been so, as he was a hypocrite, 
 and managing all the while after supreme power. 
 What a prophetic mind he must have possessed, and 
 how clear to him all the dark future, from the outset, 
 have appeared. He trifled with the king, designing 
 to overthrow him — he purged parliament, and brought 
 Charles to trial, while fighting furiously at Preston — 
 exposed his life in Ireland, knowing he should succeed— 
 returned from the conquest of Scotland, perfectly con- 
 scious that the Long Parliament would endeavor to be 
 permanent — endeavored to end it peacefully, so that he 
 could, with the more plausibility, break it up forcibly — 
 summoned a new one, and all strangers and honest 
 men, on purpose to have them prove their imbecility — 
 put them under obligations to sit a year, and before 
 they should separate provide for a new representation, 
 because he wished to have them disperse without doing 
 it — made plans, on purpose to have them baffled, and 
 rejoiced in any change of events, because he had cal- 
 culated them accurately — and eventually, in this tor- 
 tuous way, reached the goal towards which he had ever 
 
366 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 struggled, viz., supreme power. A man with such 
 superhuman foresight, one would think, might arrive at 
 his purpose in an easier and more direct manner. No 
 greater illustration of human reason clouded and stulti- 
 fied by malice and prejudice, can be given, than a clear 
 statement of the facts of the revolution placed beside 
 the explanation of Cromwell's conduct by his enemies. 
 
 This Barebones Parliament sat a little over five 
 months ; and though it did not accomplish much; events 
 from without conspired to give it a prominence abroad. 
 The war with the Dutch was prosecuted with vigor and 
 astonishing success. Blake and Monk rode triumph- 
 antly on the ocean. The great victory over the Dutch, 
 mentioned some pages back, brought commissioners to 
 England, who asked for a cessation of hostilities, while 
 negotiations could be carried on. Oliver received 
 them haughtily, and refused to grant their request — 
 nay, insisted on all the conditions formerly demanded 
 by St. John. 
 
 At length, however, a compromise was made, and the 
 commissioners took their leave. But just two days 
 previous to their departure (on the 29th of July), ano- 
 ther terrible battle had been fought between the two 
 fleets, near the coast of Holland. Monk carried his 
 vessels into action, with the same desperation he was 
 accustomed to lead his regiment to the breach. The 
 fight lasted several days; but the Dutch fleet was finally 
 dispersed, and Van Tromp slain. Monk and Blake 
 were loaded with honors; and Cromwell, at a public 
 
1653.] MADE LORD PROTECTOR. 367 
 
 dinner given them on their return, hung chains of gold, 
 and medals of honor, about their necks. 
 
 The next month (August), Whitelocke was despatched 
 as ambassador-extraordinary, to her Christian majesty, 
 Christina, the queen of Sweden. He was received 
 with great honor, on account of the illustrious deeds of 
 Oliver, whose stormy life, and great adventures, had 
 filled her with admiration, which she took no pains to 
 conceal. During the session of this parliament, also, 
 Lilburn came back from his banishment, and was tried 
 and acquitted. 
 
 Thus, with her enemies at home humbled ; and tri- 
 umphant on the deep, England needed only a steady 
 government to rise to that rank, her people and posi- 
 tion fitted her to take. 
 
 The Little Parliament, having voluntarily surrendered 
 to Cromwell its powers ; he, four days after its dispersion 
 — having first consulted the Lord in prayer — proceed- 
 ed with his friends, in great ceremony, to Westminster ; 
 and there, in presence of the lord-mayor and aldermen 
 of London, the two commissioners of the great seal, 
 the two councils of the State and army, was declared, 
 " lord-protector of the Commonwealth of England, 
 Ireland, and Scotland ;" and took the oath. It was an 
 imposing ceremony. Cromwell was dressed in a plain 
 suit of " black velvet, with cloak of the same ; and about 
 his hat a broad band of gold." "Does the reader see 
 him ? A rather likely figure, I think — stands some five 
 feet ten, or more — a man of strong, solid stature, dignified 
 mien, and portly military carriage — the expression of him, 
 
368 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 valor and devout intelligence, energy, and delicacy, on 
 a basis of simplicity. Fifty-four years old gone April 
 last ; brown hair and moustaches are getting grey. A 
 figure of sufficient impressiveness — not lovely to the 
 man-milliner species, nor pretending to be so. Massive 
 stature — big, massive head, of somewhat leonine aspect 
 — wart above the right eyebrow — nose of considerable 
 blunt-aquiline proportions — strict, yet copious lips, full 
 of all tremulous sensibilities, and also, if need were, 
 of all fierceness and rigor: deep, lowering eyes, (call 
 them grave, call them stern,) looking from under those 
 craggy brows, as if in life-long sorrow, and yet, not 
 thinking it sorrow — thinking it only labor and endeavor : 
 on the whole, a right, noble, lion-face and hero-face, and 
 to me royal enough."* 
 
 " The instrument of government," by which he was 
 to be guided, contained forty-two articles, and was read 
 by Lambert. This new constitution for England, pro- 
 vided, first, that " the supreme legislative authority, 
 should be in one person and the people in parliament 
 represented ; and that person be Lord-Protector." He 
 was to be assisted by a council of State, consisting of 
 not more than twenty-one, and not less than thirteen, 
 persons. He was to have control of all the land and 
 sea forces, grant commissions, bestow honors, &c, &c. 
 He could not repeal, or alter any law, without the 
 sanction of parliament, which should be assembled at 
 least once in three years, and sit five months. This 
 parliament was to be composed of four hundred mem- 
 
 * Vide Carlyle, vol. ii., page 65. 
 
1653.] THE PROTECTORATE. 369 
 
 bers ; and the representation to be proportioned as near 
 as possible to the taxation. Ireland and Scotland were 
 allowed, each, thirty. It was to assemble September, 
 1654; and, in the interim, Cromwell and his council 
 were to govern the State. When the result was an- 
 nounced to the people, shouts of " Long live the Pro- 
 tector !" rent the air ; and he drove back in great 
 pomp to Whitehall. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PROTECTORATE. 
 
 From December, 1653, to the Second Protectorate Parliament, Sep- 
 tember, 1657— Ordinances Issued by Cromwell— Henry Cromwell 
 goes to Ireland — Character of the New Government — Peace Abroad 
 — Respect Shown to the Protector — Sycophancy of Dr. South — 
 Assembling; of Parliament — Its Unjustifiable and Dangerous Proceed- 
 ings — Noble Address of Cromwell — Submission of Parliament — Its 
 Acts — Cromwell Thrown from His Carriage— Death of His Mother 
 — The West Indian Expedition — Dissolution of Parliament — Crom- 
 well's Arbitrary Course — The Major-Generals — Persecution of the 
 Vaudois, and Noble Interference of Cromwell — Milton — Cromwell 
 Champion of Protestantism — Assembling of the New Parliament. 
 
 Between the 16th of December, 1653, and the 3d 
 of December, 1654, when the new parliament was to 
 assemble, Cromwell and his council had permission to 
 pass such ordinances as they might deem beneficial-, 
 and they made free use of it. Sixty were issued — the 
 most important of which, in relation to civil matters, 
 were those fixing the law of treason — -arranging the 
 revenue — providing for the union of the two kingdoms, 
 Scotland and England — granting grace and oblivion to 
 offenders — regulating the manner of choosing the Irish 
 and Scotch members for the new parliament, and re- 
 forming the chancery. 
 
 But, there were two affecting the church, which 
 ranked still higher — one, appointing, as grand commis- 
 
1654.] PLOTS AGAINST HIS LIFE. 371 
 
 sioners, thirty-eight, to try public preachers; and the 
 other, instituting a similar commission in every county, 
 for the ejection of " scandalous, ignorant, and inefficient 
 ministers." The duties of the latter were distinctly 
 marked out ; and they commenced their work of pur- 
 gation in a way that evinced the purity of their in- 
 tentions. This leading measure shows the drift of 
 Cromwell's mind, to which we have frequently al- 
 luded. 
 
 But, at this time, he was treading on dangerous 
 ground — he had before incurred the hatred of both Pres- 
 byterians and royalists ; and now, the title of Lord- Pro- 
 tector, drove away the more ardent republicans in the 
 Independent party, who, hitherto, had clung faithfully 
 to him. Harrison,* disappointed and angry, would not 
 recognize his authority ; and was, therefore, stripped of 
 his rank, and sent into the country, with the injunction 
 to be quiet. Anabaptists and levellers conspiring to- 
 gether, were arrested, and thrown into the Tower; — 
 the command of the troops placed in the hands of those 
 whom he could trust ; while Monk was sent to Scot- 
 land, to quell the republican spirit in the army there. 
 Henry Cromwell was ordered to Ireland, to superintend 
 matters in that portion of the realm, and immediately 
 imparted to every department of government a vigor 
 to which it had long been a stranger. 
 
 The royalists, in the meantime, laid plots to murder 
 the Protector : Charles, II., from his secure exile in 
 
 * This able, but visionary officer, has been sadly belied by histo- 
 rians. 
 
372 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Paris, issued a proclamation, offering a reward of £500 
 per annum, a colonel's rank in the army, " and other re- 
 wards suitable, to any one who would kill a certain base 
 mechanical fellow, by name, Oliver Cromwell, who had, 
 by most wicked and accursed means, traitorously 
 usurped the throne :" but every attempt proved unsuc- 
 cessful. The assassins were seized in their beds, and 
 their plots divulged; for Cromwell had his spies and 
 friends in every place. He comprehended the danger 
 which surrounded him ; and stood prepared to meet it, 
 in whatever shape it might come. On the very morn- 
 ing the treaty with Portugal, which had been long 
 under contemplation, was closed, the head of the am- 
 bassador's brother, who had killed an Englishman in 
 the streets, rolled on the scaffold. In this stern manner 
 did he treat his enemies both at home and abroad,, raid 
 gave the world to understand what kind of a govern- 
 ment he designed to administer. France, frightened 
 into respect, courted his favor. Envoys and ambas- 
 sadors from almost every court of Europe, flocked to 
 England ; and " all the kings of the earth prostrated 
 themselves before this idol." 
 
 His family — his aged mother, and beloved daughters, 
 (Lady Claypole, Mary, and Frances,) were now removed 
 to Whitehall ; and the Lord- Protector had a household 
 about him that would not have disgraced any king.* 
 
 *{' Cromwell had nine children — seven of whom, three sons and four 
 daughters, came to maturity. Frances was the youngest daughter, 
 and it was said that Charles II. wished to marry her, in order to re- 
 cover his dominions ; and a proposal to that effect was made to Crom- 
 
1654.] HIS EULOGISTS. 873 
 
 He treated foreign ambassadors like an emperor ; and 
 the most finished courtiers quailed before the stern 
 glance of his eye. The perfect ease with which he 
 assumed his lofty station, and took upon himself the 
 cares of the nation, proves him to have possessed a 
 great soul. No fear, restlessness, or doubt, agitated 
 him — nay, he acted as if he at last had found the place 
 for which nature had designed him. He surveyed the 
 disordered kingdom about him, and the strong powers 
 abroad, who had hitherto defied the Commonwealth, as 
 composedly as he was wont to view a battle-field ; and 
 laid his plans with a skill and clearness, and pushed 
 them with a resolution which evince not only the states- 
 man, but the great ruler. He would treat his old com- 
 rades with his accustomed familiarity ; but turned 
 haughtily to meet the reverence of a royal ambassador. 
 He declared he would make the name of Englishman 
 as great abroad, " as ever that of a Roman had been ;" 
 and he kept his word. He forced the Dutch into a 
 treaty favorable to his own country, the consummation 
 of which was announced by the firing of cannon, trum- 
 pets, bonfires, and illuminations. The two universities of 
 Cambridge and Oxford vied with each other in crowning 
 him with laurels ; and such men as Doctors Cudworth, 
 Owen, Zouch, Bathurst, Busby, and South,* sung his 
 
 well, who rejected it, saying, ' No, it is impossible — he would never 
 forgive me the death of his father.' He would sooner have married 
 her to the meanest of his officers. 
 
 * To illustrate the fickleness of human praise, and, at the same time, 
 show how little trust can be placed in the testimony of even dis- 
 tinguished men, who, in the restoration, sought the favor of court, we 
 
374 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 praise in Latin verse; and last of all, Milton addressed 
 him in noble prose. Denmark and Sweden also sought 
 his alliance ; and, at peace with the world, and honored 
 at home, he, at once, placed England in the front rank of 
 nations, and started her on that glorious career she has 
 since run. 
 
 Thus passed the months between his elevation and 
 the meeting of parliament on the 3d of September, 
 
 give the following extracts from Dr. South's eulogistic poem on the 
 Protector, and not eulogistic sermon delivered before Charles II. To 
 the Lord-Protector, he wrote : 
 
 " Tu dux pariter terra? domitorq ; profundi, 
 Componant laudes cuncta elementa tuas, 
 Cui mens alta subest, pelagoq ; profundior ipso 
 
 Cujus fama sonat, quam procul unda sonat. 
 * * * * 
 
 Tu poteras solus motos componere fluctus, 
 Solus Neptunum sub tua vincla dare." 
 
 And yet, J;his Cromwell, who was both *' king and conqueror of the 
 elements," " whose fame sounded far as the waves roared," and 
 " who alone was able to control the sea, and put Neptune in chains," 
 Dr. South afterwards, when preaching before Charles II., called a 
 " beggarly fellow?'' " Who," said that zealous candidate for a bishop- 
 rick, " that had beheld such a bankrupt, beggarly fellow as Crom- 
 well, first entering the Parliament House, with a threadbare, torn 
 coat, and a greasy hat {and, perhaps, neither of them paid for) , could 
 have suspected that, in the course of a few years, he should, by the 
 murder of one king, and the banishment of another, ascend the throne, 
 be invested in the royal robes, and want nothing of the state of a king, 
 but the changing of his hat into a crown ?" " Odds fish, Lory!" ex- 
 claimed the laughing Charles, when he heard this from the divine, 
 who had panegyrized the living Lord-Protector — " Odds fish, man ! 
 your chaplain must be a bishop. Put me in mind of him at the next 
 vacancy." Oh, glorious times for the church ! Oh, golden age for the 
 profligate and the slave !"-Vide Forster's British Statesmen, page 406. 
 
1654.] MEETING OF PARLIAMENT. 375 
 
 1654. The eventful day at length arrived, and more 
 than three hundred assembled in the abbey of West- 
 minster, and from thence proceeded to the House of 
 Commons, where a message met them requesting their 
 presence in the painted chamber. Thither they went, 
 and, having assembled, were told by his highness, stand- 
 ing uncovered on a pedestal, that, it being Sunday, he 
 could not then address them, but would meet them 
 next morning in the abbey-church of Westminster. 
 
 That night, Cromwell must have felt some anxiety, as 
 he thought of Haselrig, Scott, and others, whose faces 
 had glowered on him from that assembly. 
 
 At ten o'clock, next morning, however, he proceeded 
 in great state to the church, where a sermon was to be 
 delivered. Two troops of Life Guards marched in 
 front, and a large procession of officers and gentlemen 
 on horseback, richly apparelled but bare-headed, suc- 
 ceeded—followed by pages and lackeys of the Protector, 
 in rich liveries, who walked just in front of the State 
 carriage. But all eyes were turned on Cromwell, as he 
 approached — with Lambert in gorgeous costume, sitting 
 by his side — dressed in a simple black suit, without 
 ornament or show — " like a plain country gentle- 
 man." 
 
 After service, he proceeded to the painted chamber, 
 and opened parliament with a long speech. He com- 
 menced by reminding them of the great trusts committed 
 to their charge — referred to the past, and spoke of both 
 the outward and spiritual condition of the people — re- 
 buked the Presbyterians, for fettering the consciences of 
 
376 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 men — enlarged against the Fifth Monarchy doctrine, and 
 dwelt long; on foreign affairs. He then went on to 
 enumerate some of the reforms that had been made, 
 and concluded with an urgent exhortation to act wisely 
 and harmoniously, "to which end they would have 
 his prayers." 
 
 The parliament chose Lenthall their Speaker, and ap- 
 pointed a day of fasting and prayer. This election 
 was hotly contested, and foretold much trouble ahead. 
 
 Many clear-headed statesmen were in this body — 
 some of whom had been members of the Long Parlia- 
 ment, and still smarted under the disgrace of their 
 former ejection by Cromwell's pikes. 
 
 The first question started by them was, " whether 
 the House should acknowledge the government to be 
 in the parliament and Single Person." This was 
 discussed in committee of the whole, and the debate 
 waxed fierce and high— lasting twelve hours. For four 
 successive days a violent struggle was maintained by 
 the two parties, without coming to a decision. Judge 
 Matthew Hale w T ent down to effect a compromise, to 
 which parliament agreed ; but Cromwell hurled it from 
 him with scorn, and sending for the Lord Mayor, 
 ordered the Hall to be closed, and troops to be 
 stationed in various places in the city. By eight 
 o'clock on the twelfth day of September, all was 
 accomplished ; and when the members, one after another, 
 arrived at the House, they were forbidden to enter and 
 were informed that the Protector would meet them in 
 the painted chamber. 
 
1654.] his speech. 377 
 
 CROMWELL S SPEECH. 
 
 Thither they repaired, and walked about in groups, 
 discoursing on this sudden movement, until the Lord- 
 
 's 
 
 Protector arrived. The two Houses at length being 
 assembled and called to order, he arose and ad- 
 dressed them, in a speech — the most remarkable, per- 
 haps, that ever fell from his lips. His strong nature 
 was thoroughly aroused, and he launched, at once, 
 into the question. He was not, as formerly, the 
 Christian brother talking with them as friend with 
 friend ; nor the slumberous elephantine orator, rolling 
 heavily on his way; but the Numidian lion, roused 
 from his lair, and with flashing eyes confronting his 
 presumptuous foes. "Gentlemen," said he, " it is not 
 long since I met you in this place, upon an occasion 
 which gave much more content and comfort than this 
 doth. That which I have to say to you now needs no 
 preamble to let me into my discourse ; for the occasion 
 of this meeting is plain enough. I could have wished, 
 with all my heart, there had been no cause for it. At 
 that meeting, I acquainted you what the first rise was 
 of this government, which hath called you hither, on 
 the authority of which you come hither. Among other 
 things I told you of then, I said you were a free parlia- 
 ment, and so you are while you own the government and 
 authority that called you hither, for certainly that word 
 implied a reciprocation or implied nothing at all. 
 
 He then called God to witness that he had not put him- 
 
378 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 self in the place he occupied, but God and the people ; and 
 continued he, with sudden vehemence, " If my calling 
 be from God, and my testimony from the people, God, 
 and the peole shall take it from me, else I will not part 
 ivith it." Subsiding from his high tone and passionate 
 manner, he reviewed the past ; declaring that after the 
 battle of Worcester, he again and again solicited to be 
 discharged from public duties, that he might retire to 
 private life ; and on being refused, had urged, as a mem- 
 ber of parliament, that they should fix, for the welfare of 
 the Commonwealth, a limit to their sittings. Failing in 
 this, he broke them up ; and so content were the people 
 with the measure, that when they went, " there was not 
 so much as the barking of a dog, or any general or 
 visible repining at it." He then spoke of the Little 
 Parliament which he called together, for the sole pur- 
 pose of surrendering his power into their hands — and 
 declared that their resignation was utterly unknown to 
 him till accomplished. His hopes being thus defeated, 
 he was induced, by the urgent appeals of others, to take 
 upon himself the title of Lord-Protector : and an instru- 
 ment placing the government in him and parliament, was 
 adopted " in presence of the Commissioners of the Great 
 Seal, Lord Mayor, and Aldermen of London, soldiers, 
 gentlemen, and citizens" — nay, before all the world, and 
 acknowledged by it, as well as the three kingdoms of 
 England, Scotland, and Ireland. Judges, and magis- 
 trates, and sheriffs, by taking their commissions from 
 him, had recognized the constitutionality of the act. He 
 then asked them if they had not come hither as members 
 
1654.] CLOSE OF HIS SPEECH. 379 
 
 of parliament, on writs issued by himself to the sheriffs 
 of the different counties ; and if the act of government 
 was not read at the place of election, so that there could 
 be no misunderstanding; and if the people had not signed 
 an indenture, with proviso that the persons so chosen 
 should not have the power to alter the government, as 
 now settled in one single person and a parliament!' 
 
 " Thus," said he, I have made good my second asser- 
 tion, that I bear not witness to myself, but that the good 
 people of England and you all are my witnesses." The 
 constitutionality of the government was plain ; God 
 and the people were the authority it claimed ; — could 
 Charles Stuart show a higher ? There were a hundred 
 battle-fields, on which God had been the arbiter ; and 
 there were the people with the indenture in their hands ; 
 and here are " you" members of parliament, by your 
 acknowledgment of my summons, witnesses of the 
 legality of my Protectorate." Thus he went on, telling 
 them that now to disown the authority by which they 
 sat, was contrary to all right, and perilled deeply the 
 welfare of the nation. 
 
 He then touched upon the perpetuity of parliaments, 
 liberty of conscience, the militia, finances ; and wound 
 up that part of his address by one of those sudden 
 explosions so terrible to the beholder, and seldom 
 witnessed except in the shock of battle. With his eyes 
 flashing fire, and his rough voice pitched to its battle 
 key, and rolling like heavy thunder through the cham- 
 ber, he exclaimed : " And now, the wilful throwing 
 away of this government, such as it is — so owned of God 
 
380 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 — so witnessed to — so necessary to the welfare of this 
 nation and posterity — / will sooner be rolled into 
 my grave and buried with infamy, than give my con- 
 sent to it." He was no longer the Puritan exhorter, or 
 composed statesman, but the hero of Naseby, Marston 
 Moor, Dunbar, and Worcester — the daring chieftain 
 charging into the breach of Drogheda. Those who had 
 never seen him in the midst of battle, had now a fair op- 
 portunity of witnessing the look and bearing so often 
 spoken of as appalling and fearful. On every linea- 
 ment of his massive features was written his unalterable 
 determination ; and as he bent his shaggy brows on 
 the breathless and startled parliament, his whole aspect 
 said, in language not to be misunderstood, " If you now 
 close with me, it will be in a mortal struggle." No 
 temporizing Charles I. stood there, trembling before the 
 storm he had raised ; but one in whose bosom was a 
 wilder storm than they had ever dreamed of. It was a 
 sublime spectacle — that single plebeian, standing in pres- 
 ence of three hundred of the choicest men of England, 
 and awing them by his more than imperial frown into 
 silence and submission. 
 
 He closed this extraordinary speech by telling them 
 it would have been full as honorable, had they recog- 
 nized the authority which called them together, instead 
 of treating it, as they had, with studied neglect, and then 
 open defiance ; and added — " Seeing the authority which 
 called you is so little valued, and so much slighted — till 
 some assurance is given and made known, that the 
 fundamental interest shall be settled and approved, 
 
1G54.] CLOSE OF HIS SPEECH. » 381 
 
 according to the provisions in the writ of Return, and 
 such a consent testified as will make it appear that the 
 same is accepted, I have caused a stop to be put to your 
 entrance into the Parliament House." 
 
 "I am sorry — / am sorry," he exclaimed, as his feel- 
 ings once more gained the mastery, " / could be sorry to 
 the death, that there is cause for this. But there is 
 cause; and if things be not satisfied, which are rea- 
 sonably demanded, /, for my part, will do that which 
 becomes me, seeking counsel from God." If he can't 
 have a reasonable parliament, he will fall back on 
 God, and his conscience, and take counsel from them 
 alone. " But," he tells them in conclusion, there is a 
 "thing" they "will find in the lobby of the House/' 
 the signing of which, will settle the matter between 
 them. 
 
 The House then adjourned in confusion ; and repair- 
 ing to the Parliament House, found a parchment in the 
 lobby, with an officer standing by to take signatures to 
 it, which contained the following significant sentence : 
 " I do hereby freely promise and engage myself to be 
 true and faithful to the Lord-Protector, and the Com- 
 monwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and shall 
 not (according to the tenor of the indenture whereby I 
 am returned to serve in this present parliament) propose 
 or give my consent to alter the government, as it is 
 settled in a single person and a parliament." Lenthall 
 signed first, followed by about a hundred others ; Brad- 
 shaw, Haselrig, Scot, and others, refused — muttering 
 deep indignation against the Protector. 
 
382 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Gradually, most of the remainder came in, so that at 
 the end of a month three hundred had taken the pledge, 
 and the labors of parliament were resumed. 
 
 We will not stop here to defend this other arbitrary 
 act of Cromwell; but say simply, in our opinion, if he 
 had acted differently he would have been utterly un- 
 worthy of the place he occupied. Here was a govern- 
 ment well established, which had secured peace and 
 honor abroad, and respect and confidence at home, on 
 whose strength and integrity all relied, suddenly assailed 
 by members of parliament, who could have no other 
 motive for their reckless attack than the gratification 
 of personal malice and hate. They had the dishonesty 
 to acknowledge the authority of Cromwell by assembling 
 at his call, and then deny it after having come together. 
 They were not only guilty of this inconsistency, but 
 violated their solemn pledge, given to their constituents, 
 without which they would not have been returned. 
 They were false alike to the Protector, their oath, and 
 the people who sent them. As this treachery on their 
 part struck at no less than the peace of the three king- 
 doms, and threatened to involve them again in war and 
 bloodshed, Cromwell would have been false to the pro- 
 mise he had given, if he had allowed them to go on and 
 perfect the work of ruin in their blind passion. His 
 act is called arbitrary, and compared to similar ones 
 in the history of Charles I. ; but the resemblance is in 
 form only. Charles attempted by force to make the 
 representatives of the people prove recreant to their 
 pledges, their duty, and the constitution of England ; 
 
1654.] THROWN FROM HIS CARRIAGE. 383 
 
 Cromwell used his power to make them keep their 
 oath, and not betray the country they represented. 
 Is there no difference then between their acts ? Parlia- 
 ment undertook to subvert the government they had 
 sworn to uphold, for, at least, one year, and Cromwell, 
 very properly and very emphatically, told them, he 
 would sooner be rolled into his grave, and buried with 
 infamy, than allow it to be done. 
 
 Previous to the resumption of business, an occurrence 
 took place which caused much talk; and well nigh 
 changed the destiny of England. On the 20th of Sep- 
 tember, the Protector took it into his head to have a 
 lunch in Hyde Park, under the trees, with his secretary, 
 Thurloe, and a few other gentlemen. He had previous- 
 ly taken a drive, in a coach drawn by six beautiful grey 
 Friesland horses, the present of the Duke of Oldenburgh. 
 After the repast, he proposed to drive this fiery team 
 himself, and so his Highness mounted the box, and 
 started off. For awhile, he managed very well ; but 
 rousing the mettle of the high-blooded animals too far 
 by the whip, they, at length, broke from his control, 
 and dashed fiercely away. Cromwell was hurled from 
 the box, and struck upon the pole, where he maintained 
 his balance for some time ; but at length he fell, and, his 
 feet catching in the harness, was dragged violently over 
 the gravelly path. But his shoe coming off, he was re- 
 leased from his perilous position, and left on the ground. 
 In the struggle and concussion, a pistol went off in his 
 pocket, which was the occasion of many rumors : one 
 thing, however, was evident ; that his Highness was a 
 
384 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 soldier yet, and ready at any moment to fire a pistol in 
 an assassin's face — a fact, doubtless, well considered by 
 many who were plotting against his life. 
 
 The next month, November 16th, his aged mother, 
 ninety-four years old, died. For a long time she 
 had lived in perpetual alarm, lest the life of her son 
 should be taken. Assassins haunted her declining days, 
 and she was distressed if she did not see him, at least, 
 once a day. When she saw death approaching, she 
 sent for him, and, in tremulous accents, gave him her 
 last benediction ; " The Lord cause His face to shine 
 upon you," said she ; " and comfort you in all your adver- 
 sities ; and enable you to do great things for the glory of 
 the Most High God, and to be a relief to His people. 
 My dear son, Heave my heart with thee. Good Night!" 
 and closing her eyes, she breathed forth her spirit to the 
 God who gave it. Cromwell gazed a moment on her 
 pallid features, and then burst into a flood of tears. 
 What a picture does he, the Lord-Protector of England 
 — the hero of so many battle-fields — the resolute, iron- 
 willed man, present, weeping beside his aged mother. 
 The whole scene reminds one of the parting interview 
 between Washington and his venerable parent, at 
 Fredericksburgh. * 
 
 The proceedings of this parliament are hardly worth 
 recording. It first voted, that signing the pledge re- 
 
 * She said to him, "Go George, fulfil the high destinies which 
 heaven appears to assign you ; go, my son, and may heaven's and your 
 mother's blessing be with you always." Washington, overcome by her 
 words, leaned his head on her aged shoulder and wept. 
 
1654.] WEST INDIA EXPEDITION. 385 
 
 quired by Cromwell did not bind them to the whole 
 instrument of government ; and soon after, in a ridicu- 
 lous affectation of independence, resolved that no one 
 should be returned to that parliament without re- 
 cognizing the government. They discussed also the 
 Protectorate ; whether it should be hereditary, or not ; 
 and voted that no one should be tolerated, who did not 
 subscribe to the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, 
 which by committee were decided to exclude Deists, 
 Socinians, Papists, Arians, Antinomians, Quakers, &c. 
 Thus the parliament showed itself as bigoted as it was 
 refractory. Meddling with everything which did not 
 concern it ; and touching nothing which the wants 
 of the State demanded ; — finding fault with taxes abso- 
 lutely indispensable to meet the current expenditures ; 
 and refusing supplies, without which government could 
 not be carried on ; it unsettled rather than quieted the 
 •affairs of the nation. 
 
 A large armament was fitted out at this time, under 
 Generals Venables and Penn, who were not to open their 
 orders till they arrived at a certain latitude. Their 
 destination was the West India islands, where they were 
 to intercept the Spanish plate fleet, and to conquer 
 Jamaica. 
 
 About this time, also, symptoms of discontent showed 
 themselves in the army of Scotland, to which between 
 two and three months' pay was due. The insurgents 
 talked of deposing Monk, and appointing Overton com- 
 mander ; and then march into England and demand re- 
 dress. The plottings of royalists were also felt in other 
 17 
 
386 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 parts of the kingdom ; but the ever-vigilant eye and sud- 
 den stroke of Cromwell rendered every attempt power- 
 less. Overton, and Ludlow, and Harrison, and Alured, 
 at length became involved in disgrace. 
 
 On the 22d of January, 1655, this troublesome par- 
 liament received a summons to attend his Highness in 
 the painted chamber, where, after a long speech and a 
 sharp reprimand, he concluded, " I think it my duty to 
 tell you that it is not for the profit of these nations, not 
 for the common and public good for you to continue 
 here any longer. And, therefore, / do declare unto you, 
 that I do dissolve this parliament" 
 
 Thus ended the first Protectorate parliament, much to 
 their own astonishment ; for they did not expect a disso- 
 lution until the five months specified by law had expired ; 
 and on this ground remonstrated. But Cromwell told 
 them they had sat five calendar months, which was the 
 way time was reckoned in the army ; and they departed 
 each to his home. 
 
 Oliver was now absolute monarch ; and although his 
 dissolution of parliament was legal, it is evident he 
 was willing to stretch a point to get rid of it. Forced, 
 step by step, from the broad platform of liberty 
 on which he had first planted his feet — goaded on 
 to the assumption of supreme power — he seems like 
 one whom an invisible fate is incessantly pushing 
 forward against his own wishes. Afraid to trench 
 on the liberties of the people ; still more afraid to 
 let narrow sectarians, or pseudo-statesmen, ruin the 
 the kingdom ; he struggles on, hoping the next movement 
 
1655.] HIS ARBITRARY COURSE. 387 
 
 will show that honesty and wisdom have at last met. 
 From the moment he dissolved parliament, he knew 
 that Presbyterians, republicans, and royalists, would 
 all conspire against him, and his future life must be 
 one stern battle. He could no longer rely on the virtue 
 of men ; he must, therefore, fall back on his power. 
 
 Here commences the worst part of his career. Com- 
 pelled to play the despot, he did it effectually, and held 
 the three kingdoms with a grasp of iron. Knowing 
 that moderate measures would not answer, he set about 
 his plans with a grimness and savageness that remind 
 us of his Irish campaign. He first issued an ordinance 
 in his own name, for the payment of old rates and 
 taxes — a method somewhat after Charles I. — in order to 
 supply present necessities. 
 
 But, while maturing his system of arbitrary rule, 
 an insurrectionary plot was discovered, of which Major 
 Wildman, an Anabaptist, was chief. Its ramifications 
 were extensive and dangerous ; but its timely discovery, 
 and the arrest and imprisonment of Wildman, pre- 
 vented any bad result. A month after, (March 11th,) 
 there was a sudden rising of royalists in the city of 
 Salisbury ; and about two hundred men, with Sir 
 Joseph Wagstaff, a royalist colonel, and Penruddock, a 
 wealthy gentleman, at their head, seized the judges and 
 the high-sheriff — it being assize time — and threatened 
 to hang them. Proclaiming Charles II. king, they, after 
 an ineffectual attempt to bring the city over, left in 
 haste for Cornwall; but were overtaken by one of 
 Cromwell's troops, and dispersed. Penruddock and 
 
388 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Grove were taken, seized, and beheaded ; while the rest 
 of the prisoners, or most of them, were sent as slaves to 
 Barbadoes, where Oliver, for years, had been in the habit 
 of despatching unruly subjects from the three kingdoms. 
 To meet all these conspiracies, control the hatred 
 and enmity of royalists, Presbyterians, and fierce repub- 
 licans, raise money, and sustain his foreign policy, 
 demanded all the strength of character and sagacity 
 which he possessed. A police system, never before 
 equalled, was immediately established : Thurloe, Crom- 
 well's secretary, had his spies in every regiment and 
 town ; and immense sums were annually expended 
 to perfect and carry it out. To mark his enemies 
 as distinctly as possible, he forbid all Episcopal 
 clergymen, who had been deprived of their living, 
 to teach schools, or instruct classes, or preach, or use 
 the church service in public or private, (a measure 
 borrowed from Laud,) — banished all cavaliers and Catho- 
 lics twenty miles from London, and Catholic priests the 
 kingdom. He established a strict censorship of the 
 press — imprisoned many of the nobility, until they could 
 give bail for their good behavior ; — and thus, wrapping 
 himself in his power, bade defiance to his enemies. He 
 had at last drawn the sword, and thrown away the scab- 
 bard — resolved, since he could not conciliate, to over- 
 awe. 
 
 But money was needed for his* troops, and for the 
 expenditures of government ; and so he issued an 
 ordinance decimating all who had openly declared for 
 the king — that is, compelled them to give a tenth of 
 
1655.] THE MAJOR GENERALS. 389 
 
 their entire income to the State. He next divided 
 England and Wales into twelve districts, over each of 
 which he appointed a major-general to command the 
 militia. The latter sub-divided into companies and 
 troops, were quartered in the towns supposed to be the 
 most disaffected ; and a military despotism, as terrible 
 in principle, if not in practice, as was ever invented, 
 was fastened on England. These major-generals had 
 almost unlimited powers ; and from their conduct there 
 was no appeal to a court of law — the Protector alone 
 could right the wronged. To suppress tumults, fer- 
 ret out, and disarm conspirators, see that the ordinance 
 respecting disaffected and scandalous ministers, was 
 obeyed — the law against drunkenness, profane swear- 
 ing, and gambling, enforced, and to suppress horse 
 racing, cock-fighting, theatres, &c, were some of the 
 public duties they were required to perform, while they 
 received secret instructions to assist in carrying out the 
 decimation of the royalists. Fleetwood, whom Oliver's 
 son Henry had succeeded in Ireland; Desborough, 
 Lambert, Whalley, Goffe, Skippon, and others, were 
 the officers appointed to this service. The only 
 apology that can be made for this despotic course is, 
 that it was the result of necessity, not love of power. 
 He, himself, in speaking of the appointment of major- 
 generals, afterwards, says, " But, if nothing should ever 
 be done but what is according to law, the throat of the 
 nation may be cut while we send for some to make a 
 law. Therefore, it is a pitiful, beastly notion, to think, 
 though it be for ordinary government, to live by law 
 
390 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 and rule; yet, if a government, in extraordinary cir- 
 cumstances, go beyond the law, even for self-preser- 
 vation, it is to be clamored at and blotted at." He 
 openly declared to parliament, that nothing else would 
 have answered against royalist plots; and so satisfied 
 was he of the necessity and good effect of the measure, 
 that "if he had the same thing to do over again, he 
 would do it. 
 
 We are bound to believe his solemn asseverations, 
 in which he calls God to witness that he had not sought 
 the power with which he had been invested. " I have 
 learned too much of God," says he, " to dally with Him, 
 and to be bold with Him in these things. I dare not 
 be bold with Him, though I can be bold with men." 
 But being invested with this power, he endeavored first 
 to surrender it to the Little Parliament; and failing, re- 
 ceived the title of Protector, and called a parliament 
 to co-operate with him. Forced by their dishonest 
 actions, either to abandon the settlement of the nation, 
 which had been obtained with so much effort, or dis- 
 perse them, he chose the latter course. Having, by 
 this act, separated himself from all conciliation, he had 
 either to crush his enemies, or be crushed. There w r as 
 no compromise, and he knew it. He must choose to 
 be a despot, or surrender England to anarchy — there was 
 no other course left him. 
 
 In the second place, his tyranny was not exerted for 
 base purposes, to enrich himself or feed his lusts ; but, 
 for the welfare of his country, and the protection of reli- 
 gion. The instruments he selected were not slaves, nor 
 
1655.] REASONS OF HIS CONDUCT. 391 
 
 unprincipled courtiers ; but men of integrity and con- 
 science. In the third place, his severity towards the roy- 
 alists and Episcopalians, was not the result of bigotry, as 
 in the case of Laud, but to save himself and the gov- 
 ernment. It was not with opposing views and senti- 
 ments that he waged war, but against assassins' knives, 
 and bloody plots. His tyranny was adopted as a hedge 
 to the government, and did not grow out of his love of 
 power ; for, while he was as severe as doom to those who 
 plotted against its interests, he was magnanimous to his 
 personal enemies, and forgave many a bloody attempt 
 on his life. The difference between a despotism which 
 is based on personal considerations, and is reckless of 
 the common good, and that used as a defence against 
 anarchy and evils worse than despotism, is all the dif- 
 ference between Charles I. and Oliver Cromwell. This 
 judging by the act alone, and not b}^ the spirit which 
 prompted it, or the object to be secured, is the great 
 and radical error the historians of both have fallen into. 
 Thus, while we pronounce his whole conduct, during 
 this period, as arbitrary in the extreme, and wrong, 
 we look in vain for any other safe course which he 
 could have pursued. We have never yet seen one 
 pointed out by his enemies. Necessity, as he said> knows 
 no law ; and he felt the truth of the maxim deeply. 
 
 The military despotism established through the 
 Major-Generals, was probably, from the character of 
 the officers, the most just in its action that ever was 
 organized. Yet in carrying out the details by subordi- 
 nates, much wrong and oppression were suffered. 
 
392 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Among instances of these, we notice the arrest of the 
 poet Cleveland ; and the imprisonment of Jeremy Tay- 
 lor, for his strong Episcopal notions. 
 
 While these internal regulations were being enforced, 
 external affairs were prosperous. Scotland, though 
 heavily taxed to support the army and government, and 
 now and then showing symptoms of discontent in the 
 Highlands, prospered as it had not done before for years. 
 Religion flourished — the laws were respected, and the 
 people content under the Protectorate. Henry Crom- 
 well, as Lord-Deputy of Ireland, ruled that unhappy 
 island with consummate ability, and evinced much of 
 the talents of his father. The West India expedition 
 was the only failure the Protector experienced. Gen- 
 erals Penn (the father of our own Quaker Penn) and 
 Venables effected a landing at Hispaniola w r ith some 
 10,000 troops, but were defeated. Re-embarking, they 
 made a descent on Jamaica, and took it, though it 
 proved, for the time, a barren capture. On their return, 
 they were thrown into the Tower ; for blunders were 
 almost as bad as intentional crimes, in the eyes of the 
 Protector. 
 
 Cromwell, however, whose far-reaching mind foresaw 
 the advantage of these islands in a commercial point of 
 view, did not abandon the undertaking, but immediately 
 fitted out a large armament under Montague, and also 
 sent a letter to General Fortescue, who had been left in 
 command of the island, sketching the plan he was to 
 pursue in his military operations. We might as well 
 mention here, also, that having determined to settle the 
 
1655.] PERSECUTION OF THE VAUDOIS. 393 
 
 island with English, he afterwards ordered his son 
 Henry, Lord-Deputy of Ireland, to despatch a thousand 
 Irish girls there — as two hundred English maidens were 
 once sent to Virginia, as wives for the colonists, valued 
 at a certain quantity of tobacco per head. He also 
 directed that the loose women of London should be 
 seized and transported thither — and twelve hundred were 
 thus shipped in three vessels. This, doubtless, was 
 good policy, if designed to affect London; but we can- 
 not exactly see its wisdom with regard to Jamaica, 
 much less its morality. 
 
 Blake, who had been despatched with a fleet to the 
 Mediterranean, to clear it of pirates, was more success- 
 ful than Penn and Venables had been. The Deys of 
 Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli were humbled, one after 
 another — the Duke of Tuscany was compelled to make 
 reparation for having allowed prizes, taken by Prince 
 Rupert, to be sold in his harbors ; while the Republic of 
 Genoa sent an ambassador to thank the Protector for 
 having driven the pirates from their seas. Cromwell 
 also turned his attention to New England, and made the 
 colonies do their part towards the subjugation of 
 Jamaica. Thus was laid the foundation of the British 
 possessions in the West Indies. 
 
 PERSECUTION OF THE VAUDOIS. 
 
 In June, of this year, came the news of the persecu- 
 tions in the valley of Piedmont. Six Catholic regi- 
 ments, three of which were Irish, were appointed to 
 
304 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 drive the Vaudois from their homes in mid- winter. 
 The cruelties, the inhuman barbarity, that marked the 
 proceedings against the poor Protestants, are well known. 
 " Villages were burned to the ground ; men were hewn 
 in pieces ; children's brains dashecbout against the rocks, 
 and women impaled naked — a hundred and fifty females 
 were beheaded, and their heads used in a game of 
 bowls." When the news of the atrocities reached 
 Cromwell, he burst into tears — they were the saints of 
 God who thus suffered, and all his compassion was 
 roused within him. On that day* he was to sign the 
 treaty with France, which had for a long time been 
 under contemplation; but he immediately refused, de- 
 claring that negociations should proceed no further 
 until the king and Mazarin, the prime minister, would 
 pledge themselves to assist him in saving the Vaudois 
 Protestants. He gave £2000 from his private purse 
 towards relieving their wants, and appointed Milton to 
 write letters to the several European powers, invoking 
 their aid. The noble bard entered with all the zeal 
 and enthusiasm of his great master into the work. His 
 sublime sonnet on the Vaudois will live for ever, a 
 monument both to his genius and his religion. 
 
 Avenge, O, Lord ! thy slaughtered saints, whose hones 
 Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; 
 Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
 
 When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones. 
 
 Forget not ! in thy Book record their groans, 
 
 * The 3d of Jan., 1655. 
 17* 
 
1655.] SAVES THE PIEDMONTESE. 395 
 
 Who were thy sheep, and, in their ancient fold, 
 Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled 
 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 
 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 
 To Heaven. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow 
 O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 
 The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow 
 A hundred-fold, who having learned thy way, 
 Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 
 
 A day of fasting and humiliation was appointed, and 
 a collection ordered to be taken in all the churches. 
 The contribution amounted to over £37,000, showing 
 how deeply Protestant England was stirred by the per- 
 secution of the Piedmontese Christians. It is said that 
 Cromwell, in a burst of passion, replied to some obsta- 
 cles that we$e mentioned as interfering with his plans, 
 that " he would sail his ships over the Alps, but that he 
 would put a stop to the persecution." 
 
 Bordeaux, the French ambassador, complained of his 
 refusal to sign the treaty — declaring that the King of 
 France could not meddle with the administration of an 
 internal State, and that the Duke of Savoy had as good 
 a right to make laws for his Protestant, as he, the Pro- 
 tector, had for his Catholic, subjects. But Cromwell 
 would not yield a jot until France had promised to put 
 a stop to the cruelties practised on the Vaudois. Bor- 
 deaux, in anger, asked audience to take leave — still the 
 former would not relent. War w T ith France, nay, with 
 the whole world, if necessary, he would wage, but this 
 persecution of the children of God should cease. 
 
396 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 The king of France at length yielded, and word was 
 sent that the Duke of Savoy had granted an amnesty to 
 the Vaudois, and restored their ancient rights. Maza- 
 rin, who, in fact, ruled France, had brought this about, 
 for he stood in deadly fear of Cromwell. It is said that 
 he always turned pale when he heard his name men- 
 tioned. 
 
 Oliver was the champion of Protestantism the world 
 over, and he wished it so understood: he would 
 defend it wherever his arm could reach. Not content 
 with the efforts he had put forth for the Piedmontese, 
 he sent a messenger to the Duke of Savoy, remonstrat- 
 ing against his conduct. He also took pains to let the 
 Pope understand, that he knew him to be at the bottom 
 of the unnatural persecution, and if he did not be- 
 ware, he would see his ships in the harbor of Civita 
 Vecchia, and hear the thunder of his cannon around 
 the Vatican. 
 
 In all his treaties, he made the rights of the Protest- 
 ants an indispensable article. He insisted that English 
 merchants in Portugal should be allowed to worship 
 God in their own way, and compelled France to respect 
 the lives of the Huguenots. The latter called him 
 " their only hope next to God." He sent a man named 
 Stoupe, through all that kingdom, to inquire into 
 their condition, resources, &c, and found that Mazarin 
 had taken good care not to offend him on this point. 
 The next year an emeute occurred at Nismes, be- 
 tween the Protestant and Catholic population, re- 
 specting the election of consul, or chief magistrate, 
 
1655.] DEFENDS PROTESTANTS. 397 
 
 in which some of the latter were killed. The 
 court immediately resolved to punish the Protestants 
 severely, and pull down their temples. When this was 
 known, they sent a petition to the king, praying to be 
 forgiven, and at the same time despatched a messenger 
 in haste to Cromwell, claiming his protection. The 
 latter no sooner heard the messenger's account, than 
 he bade him refresh himself, as he would take care of 
 his business; and that very night sent an express 
 to Lockhart, his ambassador at Paris, bidding him 
 demand forgiveness for the Protestants of Nismes ; and 
 if refused, to leave the kingdom without delay. Ma- 
 zarin shuffled and complained of the haughty and 
 imperious course of the Protector, but, (as it was cur- 
 rently reported,) " he was more afraid of him than of the 
 devil," and soon an order was on its way, promising the 
 pardon of the offenders. 
 
 Thus the terror of his name became everywhere a 
 shield for the persecuted Christians, and he was always 
 remembered by them in their morning and evening 
 devotions. 
 
 This stern and decided interference of his, in behalf 
 of the Vaudois, has given his biographers another 
 occasion to charge him with hypocrisy. He burst into 
 tears — hazarded a war with France — defied the Pope — 
 gave away ten thousand dollars, and all to deceive his 
 subjects. If he had shown no feeling, his enemies 
 would have said with infinite zest, that his religious 
 fervor disappeared so soon as he felt himself firmly seat- 
 ed in power. If he had blustered and remonstrated, 
 
398 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 but risked nothing, they would have exclaimed with 
 pious horror, " behold his deceit !" As he took neither 
 course, but endangered the peace he had so long striven 
 to secure, and awakened the hostility of foreign nations 
 — nay resolutely and stubbornly carried his point, and 
 rescued the suffering Vaudois, his actions are termed, 
 with the utmost sang froid, " hypocritical pretence." It 
 were desirable if English rulers of the present day 
 would exhibit something of this hypocrisy. They 
 will see Poland dismembered — Tahiti invaded by Catho- 
 lics — Switzerland threatened with the legions of despots, 
 and be content with a little bluster, a grave remon- 
 strance or two, but never interpose their strength 
 between the persecuted and the persecutors. Cromwell 
 might have done the same; and if he had been as 
 selfish and politic as modern sovereigns are, he would. 
 He who can find nothing but heartlessness in this con- 
 duct, can detect treason in heaven. His prejudice 
 would turn gold into dross, beauty into deformity, nay, 
 truth itself into falsehood. 
 
 On the 23d of October appeared the declaration of war 
 with Spain, growing out of its refusal to protect Eng- 
 lish traders in the West Indies, and allow English mer- 
 chants to worship God in the Protestant form, together 
 with its general hostility, as a Papal country, to his gov- 
 ernment. The close of this year (16.55) was distinguish- 
 ed for the effort made by Cromwell to give foreign Jews 
 permission to return to England, invested with the 
 privilege of alien citizens. It proved unsuccessful; 
 but yet, shows the liberality of feeling which character- 
 
1656.] ANECDOTE OF HIM. 399 
 
 ized him, where danger to the State was not to be 
 apprehended. A committee of trade was also formed, 
 to take into consideration the commerce of the country, 
 and adopt means for its advancement. 
 
 The opening of the next year (1656) was com- 
 paratively calm. Fiery republicans and hot-headed 
 royalists could not remain entirely quiet; but the 
 thorough police regulations, everywhere established, 
 and the firm hand with which the Protector held the 
 reins of government, kept them still, if not reconciled. 
 Blake and Montague, at Cadiz, cruising in search of the 
 enemy — negotiations with Portugal, or rather threats, 
 which had taken their place — arrangements for the 
 marriage of his daughters, Frances and Mary (the for- 
 mer to Rich, the latter to Lord Fauconberg)* — cor- 
 
 * Some writers say Faulconbridge. " There is a curious story re- 
 lated of Frances, the youngest and most beautiful of Cromwell's daugh- 
 ters — the one whom the gossip of Europe had selected as the bride of 
 Charles II. Jerry White, one of Oliver's chaplains, aspired to her 
 hand. This being told Cromwell, he ordered them to be watched, and 
 one day caught the poor chaplain in Fanny's apartment, on his knees 
 before her. c What is the meaning of this posture,' exclaimed Oliver. 
 The chaplain with great presence of mind, replied, " May it please 
 your highness, I have a long time courted that young gentlewoman 
 there, my lady's woman, and cannot prevail ; I was therefore humbly 
 praying her ladyship to intercede for me.' Oliver, turning to the 
 waiting-woman, said, ' What is the meaning of this ? He is my friend, 
 and I expect you should treat him as such.' She, desiring nothing- 
 more, replied with a low courtesy, ' If Mr. White intends me that 
 honor, I should not oppose him.' Upon this Oliver said, * Well, call 
 Goodwin ; this business shall be done presently, before I go out of the 
 room.' Jerry could not retreat. Goodwin came, and they were in- 
 stantly married ; the bride at the same time receiving £500 from the 
 Protector. 
 
 - 
 
400 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 respondence with Henry Cromwell, deputy of Ireland — « 
 great efforts to secure the election of right members of 
 parliament, which was to meet in September: these 
 were the matters and objects which engrossed the 
 mind of the Protector during the spring and summer. 
 Meanwhile, the election was going on in various parts 
 of the kingdom, characterized by the bitterest animosi- 
 ties. Cromwell needed supplies as well as Charles I., 
 and also a parliament to vote them. But he resolved, 
 at the same time, that it should not be so refractory as 
 the latter had been; and he, therefore, arrested the 
 most turbulent spirits, that were striving to have an 
 opposition returned too strong for him. Vane, for 
 his tract called the "Healing Question," was sent to 
 the Isle of Wight; Bradshaw, Ludlow,- Rich, and Col. 
 Okey, were put under arrest ; Harrison sent into Pen- 
 dennis Castle/ and a strong hand laid on the active 
 royalists. He did not ask these men to swear allegiance 
 to his government — he required them only to be peace- 
 able, and not endeavor to raise disturbance. They 
 refusing to give any such promise, he deemed it neces- 
 sary for the public safety, to confine them for awhile. 
 Still a large opposition was returned, and among them 
 Scot, Haselrig, and Ashley Cooper, the latter of whom 
 had been jilted by Cromwell's daughter. These and 
 others the Protector and his council thought best to 
 send home, which they did in a summary and rather 
 extraordinary manner. They had the power to verify 
 the returns of the elections; which they stretched to 
 the power of exclusion of members. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FROM THE SECOND PROTECTORATE PARLIAMENT TO THE 
 DEATH OF CROMWELL, SEPT., 1656 TO SEPT., 1658. 
 
 Opening of Parliament — Members Rejected — Naylor and the Quakers 
 — Victory of Blake and Montague — Sindercombe Conspiracy — 
 Narrow Escape of Cromwell — Petition and Advice — Cromwell 
 Offered the Crown — Conferences on the Subject — Finally Rejects 
 It — Statements of His Enemies — Conspiracies — Marriage of His 
 Two Daughters — Re-assembling of Parliament — Refuses to Acknow- 
 ledge the New House Provided for in " Petitions and Advice" — 
 Cromwell's Speech — The Madness of Parliament Encourages Con- 
 spirators — Dissolved by Cromwell — His New Life Guard — Family 
 afflictions — His Last Sickness and Death — His Character. 
 
 The new parliament assembled on the 17th of Sept., 
 and, after service, received the opening message of the 
 Protector. He spoke, as was his wont, extempore ; 
 sometimes flashing up with excitement, and freeing his 
 overwrought spirit in strong expressions, and then 
 floundering heavily through a sea of thoughts. 
 
 He first took up the Spanish war — spoke of its origin 
 and justice — then referred to the plots laid to assassinate 
 him — denounced the Levellers and Fifth Monarchy men 
 — defended the appointment . of major-generals, with 
 openness and earnestness — pressed on parliament the 
 propriety of toleration of all Christian sects — recom- 
 
402 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 mended public appropriations for the support of the 
 gospel ministry, and urged reform in law, especially the 
 criminal law, which made almost every offence a capital 
 one. He then alluded to the state of finances, saying, 
 there was great need of money to carry on the war 
 abroad, and protect the government at home, and con- 
 cluded by quoting the 85th Psalm, beginning, " Lord, 
 Thou hast been very favorable to thy land — Thou hast 
 brought back the captivity of Jacob, &c," and tells 
 them, if they will only " put their hearts" to the work, 
 they need not be afraid "if Pope, Spaniard, devil, and 
 all, set themselves against them ;" but, can joyfully, 
 triumphantly, " sing Luther's psalm, ' Eine feste Burg 
 ist unser Gott' — God is our refuge and strength ; a very 
 present help in time of trouble — therefore, will we not 
 fear, though the earth be removed, and though the 
 mountains thereof be carried into the sea * * * The 
 Lord of Hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our 
 refuge/' 
 
 The members then adjourned to the House, at the 
 door of which they found soldiers ranked who refused 
 admittance to all who had not received certificates 
 from the council. Nearly a hundred, having refus- 
 ed to give their pledge to support the government, 
 were denied certificates, and hence excluded from their 
 seats. Loud outcries were made against this violation 
 of the privilege of parliament — the hundred members 
 appealed to the House, but were referred by it to the 
 council, and finally were compelled to return to their 
 constituents, content with having framed a masterly 
 
1656.] CASE OF NAYLOR. 403 
 
 appeal to the people of England, in which it was evident 
 they had all the law on their side, while Cromwell could 
 plead only necessity. 
 
 The parliament having chosen Widdrington Speaker, 
 soon showed that the Protector had nothing to fear from 
 their opposition. The war with Spain was upheld — 
 Charles Stuart and his family pronounced destitute of 
 all claims to the throne, and £400,000 voted for the use 
 of government. In the meantime, the case of Naylor, 
 the mad Quaker, was taken up, and consumed three 
 months in its discussion, much to the annoyance of 
 Cromwell, who endeavored to prevent the ridiculous 
 and severe punishment awarded him.* Other sects, 
 such as the Muggletonians, Unitarians, &c, came 
 in for their share of persecution ; which added to 
 his displeasure, for, in the first place, he wished more 
 
 * The Quakers had recently sprung into existence as a sect ; George 
 Fox, the father of it, commenced his itinerant preaching against all 
 ordained ministers; declaring that the "inward light" was the only 
 guide in religion, in 1650 ; and it was not till two years after, that the 
 Quakers met in separate assemblies. From this time on, they began to 
 increase, and, for refusing to obey the magistrates, who would coerce 
 their religious liberty, and interrupting the worship of other denomi- 
 nations, they were soon honored with a good deal of persecution. This 
 James Naylor, formerly one of Lambert's officers, was one of the most 
 extravagant of the sect, and allowed himself to be accompanied into 
 Bristol in a most extraordinary manner, and to receive the same honors 
 as Jesus Christ did when he entered Jerusalem. For this, and similar 
 blasphemies, he was condemned to the pillory, to have his tongue 
 bored through with a hot iron, to be branded in the forehead, &c. 
 Cromwell was opposed to these cruelties, and received even Fox 
 himself with kindness, and told him, that if they could see each other 
 oftener and discourse on spiritual things they would be nearer together. 
 
404 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 toleration, and, in the second, felt that weightier mat 
 ters deserved the consideration of members. 
 
 The system of major-generals was now, at his sug- 
 gestion, abandoned — much to the joy of the people, on 
 whom the quartering of the military fell heavy. About 
 the same time, Blake and Montague attacked the Span- 
 ish fleet, in the bay of Santa Cruz ; and though it was 
 defended by a castle, and a strong line of forts, burned it 
 to the water-edge. Captain Stayner led the van in 
 this desperate attack, and was afterwards knighted for 
 his gallantry. A short time previous, he had captured 
 the celebrated plate-fleet that Penn and Venables were to 
 intercept, and seized a large amount of money, which 
 came very opportune to the exhausted treasury of 
 Cromwell. Blake, not long after this, his last victory, 
 was taken sick, and returned to England to die. He 
 expired in sight of the country whose name he had 
 made so terrible on the seas. 
 
 In January, of the year 1657, occurred the famous 
 Sexby and Sindercombe conspiracies. Sexby, an Ana- 
 baptist colonel, had promised to assassinate Cromwell, 
 for which he was to receive £1600 from Charles Stuart. 
 Finding no opportunity to effect his purpose, he went 
 to Flanders, to consult about the intended insurrection, 
 which was to occur at the same time that the fleet of 
 Spain, who was to invade England, should reach the 
 coast. During his absence, Sindercombe, formerly a 
 fierce republican, and brave officer, but who, having 
 turned Leveller, and conspired against the government, 
 was finally cashiered, took his place. He first attempted 
 
1657.] ATTEMPT TO SLAY HIM. 405 
 
 to blow up Cromwell's carriage, as it was passing from 
 Whitehall to Hampton Court ; but, failing in this, re- 
 solved to set fire to Whitehall at night, and slay him in 
 the general confusion that would follow. A hundred 
 conspirators, supplied with fleet horses, were to aid him 
 in this infernal attempt. 
 
 Everything being completed, on the night of the 8th 
 of January, a basket of fierce combustible materials 
 was placed in the building, and a slow match kindled, 
 which, in half an hour, or at midnight, would reach 
 it. But while the fire was gradually making its way to 
 the fatal material, a sentinel on guard smelt the com- 
 bustion, and gave the alarm, and the whole thing was 
 discovered. Sindercombe was immediately seized, 
 though he defended himself desperately. Thrown into 
 prison, he saved the headsman the trouble of his 
 his execution, by taking poison — though some of the 
 enemies of Cromwell have the audacity to intimate it 
 was given by order of the latter. 
 
 Parliament, on hearing of the Protector's narrow 
 escape, adjourned a week, till the affair could be sifted 
 to the bottom ; and when it again assembled, appointed 
 a day of thanksgiving for the preservation of his High- 
 ness. The members went over in a body, to congratulate 
 him on his wonderful deliverance. He, in return, on 
 thanksgiving day, after hearing two sermons, entertained 
 them with a princely dinner, and in the evening with 
 rare instrumental and vocal music. 
 
 On the heels of this came the celebrated "Address 
 and Remonstrance," presented by Alderman Pack, mem- 
 
406 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ber from London. The chief articles in this remon- 
 strance, were, first, that Cromwell should assume the 
 title of king, and be invested with the power to name 
 his successor ; second, that a parliament should be con- 
 voked, at least, once in three years ; and consist of two 
 Houses ; third, that there should be no encroachments 
 on privileges of parliament, and no members be excluded, 
 except on judgment of the House. The fourth article 
 related to qualifications of members ; the fifth declared 
 that the new House should consist of not less than forty, 
 and not more than seventy, members ; the sixth referred 
 to the alteration of the laws ; the seventh, to the reve- 
 nue ; eighth, to the privy council ; ninth, to the great 
 officers of State ; tenth and eleventh, to religious tolera- 
 tion; and the other seven, to less important matters. 
 All were passed without a division, except the one re- 
 specting the title of king, which occupied some days' de- 
 bate; but was finally carried by a large majority. The 
 bill then took the name of " Petition and Advice," and 
 with the additional article, that unless the Protector gave 
 his consent to the whole, no part of it should be of force, 
 was presented to him in a flattering address, by the 
 Speaker, Widdrington. To the surprise of parliament, 
 he refused, at that time, to give . his assent to it ; and 
 said, the questions involved required deliberation. 
 
 Previous to this, however, while the article respect- 
 ing kingship was under debate, a hundred officers in the 
 army presented themselves before him, begging him not 
 to accept the proffered title. His answer to them was 
 abrupt and severe. He exposed their miserable policy, 
 
1657.] PETITION AND ADVICE. 407 
 
 and ridiculed their scruples — telling them that a short 
 time since, when he was installed Protector, some of 
 them presented him the instrument of government, with 
 the title " king" actually inserted. He then refused to 
 accept it ; and now, although he " loved the title, as 
 a feather in the hat, as little as they did, yet it was 
 strange they should boggle at it." He spoke, also, of 
 the other articles ; especially the one authorizing the 
 House of Lords — in short, gave them to understand 
 they knew but little about the matter ; and it did not 
 become them, of all*men, to make such a show of con- 
 science. 
 
 We will not enter into a detailed account of the con- 
 ferences, dialogues, &c, which this question occasion- 
 ed. The chief reason assigned by parliament for in- 
 sisting on it was, that the laws and constitution of Eng- 
 land were adapted to the title " king ;" and it would be 
 necessary to make a thorough change in every depart- 
 ment, to adapt them to " Protector." Cromwell wished, 
 exceedingly, to have some portions of the instrument 
 adopted ; and yet, they had so fettered him, that he 
 must either accept, or reject the whole. This he com- 
 plained of in a second interview; but still, gave a 
 negative, though not the most decided. The House, 
 however, adhered to its " Petition and Advice," and 
 appointed a committee of ninety-nine to confer with 
 him. The chief argument used by the several speakers, 
 in their interviews, was the one already mentioned; — 
 that the title "king" was grounded in all the institutions 
 of England ; and the powers attached to it denned- 
 
408 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 while Protector meant almost anything. The con- 
 ference was broken up, by Cromwell telling them, that 
 he would meet them on Monday, April 13th. At the 
 time appointed, they came together, and his Highness 
 made a very long and intricate speech, in which he 
 endeavored to weigh fairly the arguments on both sides 
 — winding up with the rather startling one against the 
 article, that God seemed to have dealt so with the 
 family of Stuart, " that he blasted the very title." 
 
 The next ten days, the Protector was sick, and could 
 not attend the committee ; but on the third day, he 
 received them, and listened to a long and tedious reply 
 to his objections ; the sum of which was, that the wish 
 of parliament, and the welfare of the nation, ought to 
 be binding. 
 
 On Monday, there was another session, and Crom- 
 well spoke, declaring his willingness, in all proper ways, 
 to be subservient to the representatives of the people : 
 but it seemed to him that parliament was authority 
 enough to make any title legal — he had his commission 
 as general from it, and why not keep that of Protector. 
 He wished only the peaceable settlement of the nation, 
 and cared nothing for his own power. He acknow- 
 ledged that he had "griped at the government of the 
 nation without a legal consent ; but that was done upon 
 principles of necessity." The time for such exercise of 
 authority was past ; and he wished parliament to setttle 
 the government on principles of law and constitution. 
 
 The next day, he let the question of kingship pass ; 
 and took up the other articles of the Petition in detail ; 
 
1657.] REFUSES TO BE MADE KING. 409 
 
 commenting upon them, and suggesting such altera- 
 tions, as he thought beneficial. 
 
 The next two days, were spent by parliament in con- 
 sidering the corrections offered, and other matters of 
 general interest to the State ; but on May 1st, it again 
 sent the committee to the Protector, to hear his deci- 
 sion on the kingship. His speech was briefer on this 
 occasion than formerly ; and after apologizing for troub- 
 ling them so long, and complimenting them on their 
 patriotic labors, and repeating the principle on which 
 his objections were founded, he concluded by saying, 
 " I am persuaded to return this answer to you : that I 
 cannot undertake this government with the title of king. 
 And this is mine answer to this great and weighty 
 matter!' Thus was this protracted and annoying affair 
 ended ; and parliament adopted the remainder of the 
 " Petition and Advice." Lambert, in the open and 
 detetermined ground he took against the assumption of 
 the title, showed so much spleen and hatred, that he was 
 soon afterwards dismissed from office, though on a pen- 
 sion of £2000 per annum. 
 
 Much has been said about this conference on the 
 kingly title; and Cromwell, as usual, charged with 
 hypocrisy throughout. If he had accepted it, his 
 ambition and former trickery would, of course, have 
 been most apparent. Concealing his deep and selfish 
 designs under the mask of religion and patriotism, until 
 he felt power within his grasp, he then vaulted into 
 the throne. Such would have been the reasoning, 
 had he been made king. As he refused, however, 
 18 
 
410 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 there is no other way to make the charge of hypocrisy 
 and ambition stick to him, except by declaring that 
 his heart was in the crown ; and his fears alone kept 
 his hand from it. So it makes no difference in his 
 character, whether he accepted or refused — seized it for- 
 cibly, or received it as a gift from parliament — the same 
 harsh judgment is pronounced upon him by his enemies. 
 The welfare of the country did not enter the category 
 at all ; it was simply, a balancing between selfish fear 
 and ambition. This man, who had risked his life in 
 open war with the sovereign power of England, and 
 his life a thousand times on the battle-field ; who had 
 placed his foot on the neck of a king ; broken up parlia- 
 ment at the pike's point, and dissolved it by his imperial 
 word ; boldly assumed all the power the title of king 
 could confer ; laid his hand on the very chieftains who 
 surrounded him at'Naseby, Marston Moor, Dunbar, and 
 Worcester, and quartered his troops in almost every 
 town of England ; — this man, who had performed the 
 boldest acts ever planned by a human intellect or exe- 
 cuted by a human arm, and, as asserted, solely for the 
 purpose of getting a crown, refused, through personal 
 fear, to take it when offered him, though urged upon him 
 by the highest legislative body of the land. To such 
 logic we must surrender our reason, and adopt its con- 
 clusions, if we would escape the heinous offence of 
 upholding a "monster, a tyrant, and a hypocrite." 
 
 But when the fog is cleared away from this insignifi- 
 cant affair, the simple truth is found to be that Crom- 
 well and parliament both felt that the government 
 
1657.] SECOND INSTALLATION. 411 
 
 would be more firmly settled with a king than with a 
 protector. The latter title was new, and seemed merely 
 provisional, while the former was deeply rooted in 
 men's hearts, and claimed, in spite of themselves, their 
 reverence. The government, to the minds of all, seemed 
 incomplete and unfixed, while the throne was vacant. 
 It is not easy to change the current of a whole nation's 
 feelings into a new channel, and cause an entire trans- 
 fer of its reverence. On the other hand, to accept the 
 title was simply to change the name, nothing more ; for 
 Cromwell was, in fact, king of Great Britain, and he 
 knew it. He regarded it, as he said, " no more than 
 a feather in a cap ;" and was swayed entirely by mo- 
 tives of expediency. He demanded, and received, 
 all the courtesies of manner and language from foreign 
 monarchs, and all the reverence from foreign ambassa- 
 dors due to a king : he wielded all the power at home 
 and abroad, and stood higher in the admiration and 
 respect of the world, than any crowned head in it. 
 To suppose it was a matter of any personal conse- 
 quence to him, whether he received the mere title, is 
 absurd ; and would make him as weak as some would 
 make him criminal. That so great an idiot and so 
 timid a man should have ruled England with such a 
 strong hand and consummate ability, demands an expla- 
 nation never yet vouchsafed. 
 
 The next month, June 26th, a new inauguration of 
 the Protector took place. This was done in Westmin- 
 ster Hall — Cromwell standing at the upper end, in front 
 of a magnificent chair of state, and the vast throng 
 
412 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 before and below him. The Speaker advancing, 
 presented him with a robe of purple, bound with 
 ermine., a superb Bible, heavily gilt and embossed — and 
 girding a sword to his side, placed a sceptre of gold 
 in his hand. The oath was then administered, followed 
 by a fervent prayer from the chaplain, invoking the 
 blessing of heaven on the Protector, the parliament and 
 people. Cromwell then rose from his knees, and sat 
 down, with the French and Dutch ambassadors by his 
 side ; while near by him, on either hand, were the Earl 
 of March and Lord Mayor of London, bearing the 
 sword of state, and of the city. Behind him stood his 
 numerous family, and the three lords of the council. 
 For a moment all was still — but at a given signal 
 the trumpets rang out their jubilee, the heralds pro- 
 claimed the title of Lord-Protector, and the assembled 
 thousands shook the lofty building that enclosed them, 
 with, " Long live the Lord- Protector !" " God save the 
 Lord-Protector!" He then rose, and bowing to the 
 ambassadors, walked in state to his carriage, and pro- 
 ceeded to Whitehall. 
 
 Parliament immediately adjourned for six months, to 
 give him time to organize the upper House, provided 
 for in the " Petition and Advice." 
 
 During the autumn months that followed, the war 
 with Spain was carried triumphantly forward, and 
 England took rapid strides towards the maritime great- 
 ness she afterwards reached. 
 
 About the same time, another expedition was fitted 
 out, under Revnolds and Montague, the former to com- 
 
1657.] LEAGUE WITH FRANCE. 413 
 
 mand the land, and the latter the sea, forces, to operate 
 against the Spanish power in the Netherlands. A 
 league had been entered into with France, by which 
 she was to furnish 20,000 men, and England 6,000 and 
 a fleet ; and the combined forces to march on Grave- 
 lines, Mardike and Dunkirk. France was to have 
 Gravelines for her share, and England the other two 
 towns, which being seaports, would give her great 
 advantage in any difficulties with continental powers. 
 Cromwell promptly performed his part of the contract; 
 but the artful Mazarin endeavored to divert the expe- 
 dition from the coast towns, to places inland. The 
 Protector penetrated his policy at once, and gave him 
 to understand, most distinctly, that he would have no 
 double-dealing, which brought the wily Duke to a 
 more strait-forwai'd course, and Mardike was soon be- 
 seiged, and in September, taken. The next month, the 
 Spaniards, under the Duke of York, made a desperate 
 attempt to recover it, but w T ere repulsed with terrible 
 loss. The combined armies then moved forward upon 
 Dunkirk : the place, however, did not surrender till the 
 next summer. 
 
 A remonstrance to the Grand Seignor, in August, for 
 the unlawful seizure of an English ship — the weddings 
 of his two daughters,* spoken of before — Frances, the 
 youngest and most beautiful of his children, to Robert 
 Rich, son of Lord Rich, and grandson of the Earl of 
 Warwick, and Mary, to Lord Faulconbridge,f were the 
 principal events between the prorogation of parliament, 
 * In November. t 0r Fauconberg. 
 
414 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 in June, and its re-assembling, on the first of Janu- 
 ary, 1658. 
 
 The marriage festivities had scarcely subsided, before 
 Cromwell was compelled to throw himself again into 
 the conflicts which had already sapped the vigor of his 
 life, and would, in a few months, place him in his grave. 
 
 Owing to his feeble health, he addressed only a short 
 speech to parliament, leaving Nathaniel Fiennes to 
 finish what he wished to say. 
 
 It required no prophet to foretell a stormy session 
 to this parliament. The hundred members excluded 
 last year, had been returned, and were burning to 
 revenge themselves on the Protector. 
 
 The New House w T hich was designed to take the 
 place of the Chamber of Peers, was found to consist 
 of only a little over forty members, although sixty-one 
 had been summoned : — among them we find Richard and 
 Henry Cromwell. No sooner was the lower House 
 organized, than Scott and Haselrig — leading the opposi- 
 tion, refused to acknowledge the New House, as a 
 House of Lords, and entered upon a furious debate 
 respecting the name it should bear. Four days were 
 spent in this manner, and on the fifth, Cromwell sum- 
 moned both Houses to meet him at Whitehall, where 
 he addressed them in a long and earnest speech, appeal- 
 ing to them by the sufferings and welfare of their 
 common country, by their love of truth and religion, to 
 cease their wranglings, and commence, at once, the 
 settlement of the affairs of the nation. Pie spoke of the 
 agitations on the continent, and the danger which 
 
1658.] SPEECH TO PARLIAMENT. 415 
 
 threatened Protestantism on every side, as strong 
 motives for them to act as statesmen. He then turned 
 to domestic matters, saying, "I beseech you, look to 
 your own affairs at home, how they stand. I am per- 
 suaded you are all — I apprehend you are all honest, 
 worthy and good men, and that there is not a man of 
 you, but would desire to be found a good patriot. I 
 know you would. We are apt to boast somewhat, that 
 we are Englishmen ; and truly it is no shame for us 
 that we are Englishmen ; but it is a motive to us to do 
 like Englishmen, and seek the real good of the nation, 
 and the interest of it. But, I beseech you, what is our 
 case at home ?, I profess I do not well know where to 
 begin on this head, or where to end — I do not. # * * 
 We are full of calamities, and of divisions amongst us 
 in respect of the spirits of men, though, through a won- 
 derful, admirable, and never to be sufficiently admired 
 providence of God, in peace. And the fighting we 
 have had, and the success we have had — yea, we that 
 are here, we are an astonishment to the world. And 
 take us in that temper we are in, or rather distemper, 
 it is the greatest miracle that ever befel the sons of men, 
 that we are got again to peace. And whoever shall 
 seek to break it, God Almighty root that man out of the 
 nation ! And he will do it, let the pretences be what 
 they may /" And further, he said, with his soul all on 
 fire — that those who would not stop in their course, to 
 consider what became of the next generation, "must 
 have the heart of a Cain, who was marked, and made 
 an enemy to all men — all men enemies to him. For 
 
416 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the wrath and justice of God will persecute such a man 
 to the grave, if not to hell" He continued for a while in 
 this energetic strain, carried away by the picture the dis- 
 tracted country presented to his imagination, and finally 
 asked them what kind of government they expected to 
 adopt, or what " model would satisfy the minds of men," 
 if not the one they were called together upon ? What 
 else hindered the nation from being an Aceldama — a 
 field of blood ?" The soldiers, he said, were unpaid, 
 and going barefoot in that January month, through the 
 streets of the city, yet cheerful withal, and ready to 
 suffer for the good of the Commonwealth ; " and he who 
 had no due sense of this, had a heart as hard as the 
 weather" 
 
 Having thus spoken of the danger from enemies 
 without, and cavaliers at home — of the horrors of war 
 and the blessings of peace, he added that if they still per- 
 sisted in provoking " distraction and cruel war, it would 
 be said, It is all over with England." Still he trusted 
 God would not leave them to such a course — " and," said 
 he, " while I live, and am able, I shall be ready to stand 
 and fall with you, in this seemingly promising union, 
 which God hath wrought among you, which I hope 
 neither the pride nor envy of man shall be able to make 
 void. I have taken my oath to govern according to 
 the. laws that are now made, and I trust that I shall 
 fully answer it. And know, I sought not this place. / 
 speak it before God, angels and men — I did not. You 
 sought me for it. You brought me to it, and I took my 
 oath to be faithful to the interests of these nations — to 
 
1658.] HIS DANGEROUS POSITION. 417 
 
 be faithful to the government, * * * and I shall, I must, 
 see it done according to the articles of government — 
 that every just sentiment may be preserved — that a 
 godly ministry may be upheld, and not offended by 
 seducing and seduced spirits — that all men may be pre- 
 served in their just rights, whether civil or spiritual. 
 Upon this account did I take oath, and swear to this 
 government. And so having declared my heart and 
 mind to you, on this, I have nothing more but to pray 
 God Almighty to bless you." 
 
 This was spoken extempore, in all the sincerity and 
 earnestness of his overflowing heart. He saw the na- 
 tion but just settled into quietness, again agitated by reck- 
 less enemies, and revengeful men, and he made a last and 
 noble appeal to them to pause. By their children — by 
 the liberties for which they had fought — by the glory 
 of England, and the good of the church, he besought 
 them to arrest the parricidal hand. 
 
 Noble, but vain effort ! His enemies, too selfish to 
 place their country before the gratification of their 
 passions, let everything drive towards irrejfnediable ruin. 
 For ten days more, the same debate went on, while 
 conspirators, taking advantage of the hostile position of 
 parliament, rallied for a new effort. A pamphlet had 
 been issued only a short time previous, entitled, " Kill- 
 ing no Murder," in which the writer boldly asserted, 
 that it was no crime to slay Cromwell. The Duke of 
 Ormond had entered London in disguise, and was con- 
 certing, with royalists and republicans a new insur- 
 rection. But Oliver, whose police-system nothing could 
 
418 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 escape, was aware of his presence; yet, instead of 
 hanging him on the gate-posts of the city, (as he would 
 have been perfectly justifiable in doing,) he quietly told 
 Lord Broghil to advise his old friend to depart. Scot- 
 land threatened a new invasion ; and the enemies of 
 the Commonwealth, elated at the conduct of parliament, 
 were moving on every side — and every day was big 
 with fears and perils. Cromwell stood in the midst of 
 the gathering storm, sad and thoughtful — his noble heart 
 wrung with bitter disappointment ; yet, high and reso- 
 lute as ever. He had once said, that he would be 
 rolled into his grave, sooner than see the government 
 of the Commonwealth overthrown ; and to that de- 
 termination he still inflexibly held. No one knows the 
 wakeful nights and anxious days he passed, while every- 
 thing trembled on the brink of ruin — reluctant again to 
 use his power arbitrarily. But, at length, impelled by 
 the momentarily increasing danger, he roused himself 
 to the effort ; and suddenly snatching up his hat, and 
 waving his hand to a few of .his guards — without wait- 
 ing for his carriage — flung himself into a hack, and 
 drove to the House of Lords. Assembling there the 
 lower House, he addressed them both together, in that 
 brief and impressive manner in which he always spoke 
 when highly excited. Said he, " My lords, and gentle- 
 men of the House of Commons, I had a very com- 
 fortable expectation, that God would make the meeting 
 of this parliament a blessing; and the Lord be my 
 witness, / desired the carrying on the affairs of the 
 nation to these ends. The blessing which I mean, and 
 
1658.] HIS LAST SPEECH. 419 
 
 which we ever climbed at, was mercy, truth, right- 
 eousness, and peace — which I desired might be improved. 
 That which brought me into the capacity I now stand 
 in, was the " Petition and Advice," given me by you ; 
 who, in reference to the present constitution, did draw 
 me to accept the place of Protector. There is not a 
 man living could say I sought it — no, not a man or 
 woman treading upon English ground. But, con- 
 templating the sad condition of these nations, relieved 
 from an intestine war, into a six or seven years peace, 
 I did think the nation happy therein. But, to be 
 petitioned thereunto, and advised by you to undertake 
 such a government — a burden too heavy for any crea- 
 ture, and this to be done by the House that then had 
 the legislative capacity — certainly I did look that the 
 same men who had made the power, should make it 
 good unto me. / can say, in the presence of God, in 
 comparison with whom we are hut like poor creeping 
 ants upon the earth, I would have been glad to have 
 lived under my woodside, to have kept a flock of sheep, 
 rather than undertaken such a government as this." 
 
 What a mixture of noble melancholy, and firm pur- 
 pose, is exhibited in these sentences ! Every word car- 
 ries conviction of sincerity. He speaks as he feels; 
 and bearing down everything by the simple majesty of 
 truth, awakens all our sympathy, while he claims our 
 unbounded admiration. 
 
 After thus relieving his heart, he went on to speak of 
 the dangers that threatened the government : — an inva- 
 sion, he said, was in preparation — a conspiracy, in that 
 
420 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 very city, was all ripe for an outbreak ; nay, he declared 
 that honorable members were endeavoring to seduce the 
 army from its allegiance ; and wound up with the terrible 
 accusation — " Some of you have been listing of per- 
 sons, by commission of Charles Stuart, to join with 
 any insurrection that may be made. And, what is 
 like to come of this, the enemy being ready to invade 
 us, but ever present blood and confusion ? And, if 
 this be so, I do assign it to this cause — your not assent- 
 ing to what you did invite me to by your Petition and 
 Advice, as that which might prove the settlement of the 
 nation. And if this be the end of your sitting, and 
 this be your carriage, I think it high time that an end 
 be put to your sitting. And I do dissolve this parlia- 
 ment. And God judge beetween me and you." "Amen !" 
 fell from the lips of some of the most desperate ; and 
 this last Protectorate parliament disappeared. " It was 
 high time;" for Samuel Hartlib, a friend of Milton, in 
 writing to a friend, says, "If their session had continued 
 but two or three days longer, all had been in blood, both 
 in city and country, upon Charles Stuart's account." 
 
 Here was another £ ' act of despotism ;" but one, if 
 he had not committed, he would have broken his solemn 
 oath, and show T ed that he cared more for his own repu- 
 tation, than for the common weal. "Let God judge be- 
 tween you and me," he exclaimed ; and, he might add, 
 between me and my accusers to the end of time, and 
 in the judgment of the Great Day. 
 
 No sooner w r as this parliament dissolved, than he 
 commenced arresting the ringleaders of the conspiracy. 
 
1658.] PLOTS AGAINST HIS LIFE. 421 
 
 Summoning his followers about him, he explained how 
 matters stood, and asked if they would permit the 
 enemies of the Commonwealth to overthrow it ? They 
 answered, "We will stand and fall with your Highness 
 — we will live and die with you.'" A hundred and sixty 
 brave fellows, selected from his different regiments of 
 cavalry, divided into eight companies, became his body- 
 guard ; ten of whom were always on duty about his 
 person. On these he could rely ; and unflinching and 
 bold must be the man, and quick the assassin's knife, that 
 could reach him then. The plotters were one after 
 another thrown into prison, and a High Court of Justice 
 nominated to try offenders. The Protector had over- 
 looked and pardoned long enough ; and now he would 
 show assassins what kind of a man they had to deal 
 with : Sir Henry Slingsby and Dr. Hewet, were among 
 the first arrested. The former, a prisoner in Hull, and 
 an uncle of his son-in-law, Lord Fauconberg, had been 
 seducing the officers into a betrayal of their trust — the 
 latter, a doctor of divinity, had desecrated his office, by 
 mingling in the plots of murderers. 
 
 Thus passed the early spring. On the 15th of May, 
 the royalists had resolved to rise in London, with beat 
 of drum, and burn and slay ; but Cromwell, who had 
 known all their proceedings from the beginning, ordered 
 his troops to seize them just on the verge of the ap- 
 pointed hour. Ten days after, Slingsby and Hewet, 
 with three others, were tried. The two former, in 
 spite of the strenuous exertions made by their friends, 
 were condemned, and perished on the scaffold. He 
 
422 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 thus smote the monster insurrection, with blow after 
 blow; and, by June, peace was restored. Royalism 
 had sunk affrighted ; and Levellers and Fifth Monarchy 
 men, betook themselves to silence. 
 
 At this time, also, came the news of the taking of 
 Dunkirk — of the glorious battle fought with the Spanish 
 army, fifteen thousand strong, sent to relieve it — and 
 of the resolute daring of the six thousand British troops 
 that alone gained the victory. Great rejoicings fol- 
 lowed ; and England and France stood linked in closer 
 brotherhood. 
 
 CROMWELL'S SICKNESS AND DEATH. 
 
 The summer which witnessed his triumph at home 
 and abroad witnessed, also, the final wreck of the 
 iron frame of Oliver Cromwell. Inured by a life of 
 exposure and toil, his natural strength had been increased, 
 and he bid fair to reach even beyond the allotted age 
 of man. But his constant anxieties and uneasiness 
 made deeper inroads than the most arduous campaign ; 
 and for some time he had been evidently failing. To 
 add to his misery, and complete the ruin of his health, 
 family afflictions came in rapid succession and bore 
 him to the earth. A few days after the dissolution of 
 parliament, his son-in-law, Mr. Rich, died, leaving his 
 daughter Frances a widow. The Earl of Warwick, 
 his grandfather, followed him next month ; and while 
 the country was ringing with the brave deeds of 
 the army around Dunkirk, the Lady Claypole, his 
 
1658.] HIS SICKNESS AND DEATH. 423 
 
 favorite daughter, was taken sick with a fatal and most 
 painful disease. The Protector was forgotten in the 
 father; and hurrying to Hampton Court, he took his 
 place by her bed-side, overwhelmed with sorrow. Her 
 convulsions, and cries of distress, tore his heart-strings 
 asunder, and shook that strong and affectionate nature 
 to its foundations. His kingdom, his power, the Com- 
 monwealth, were all forgotten ; and for fourteen days 
 he bent over his beloved child, until, at length, his 
 over-tasked frame gave way. On the 6th of August 
 she died; and Cromwell, on his bed of sickness, was 
 told the heart-breaking news. Beautiful, and beloved 
 by all, she had just entered on life and its joys, when 
 she was hurried away. Her noble father was soon to 
 follow. He rallied a little at first, and was able, one 
 day, to ride out to take the air ; but he returned ex- 
 hausted to his palace. It was the last time that form 
 was ever seen amid his life-guards ; and the " waft of 
 death," which George Fox said he saw "go forth 
 against him there," any one might have seen who had 
 gazed on his pallid face. Disease and sorrow striking 
 together, had reached the citadel of life. 
 
 On the 24th, he again took to his room, prostrated by 
 what was then called a tertian ague. On hearing his 
 physician pronounce his pulse intermittent, he started ; 
 and requesting to be placed in bed, called for pen and 
 paper, and executed his last instructions. The next 
 morning, he was better ; and taking his wife by the 
 hand, bade her not be alarmed, as he should yet recover. 
 He believed and said, that the prayers of God's children 
 
424 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 would prevail, and he would be spared. Being moved, 
 for change of air, to Whitehall, he continued to grow 
 worse; the fever became a double tertian, and the 
 chills and fever frequent and prostrating. Delirium 
 followed ; but in the intervals of reason, he was calm 
 and collected. On one of these occasions, he requested 
 the chaplain to read from the Epistle of Paul to the 
 Philippians, the passage beginning, " Not that I speak 
 in respect of want, for I have learned in whatever state 
 I am, therewith to be content. I can do all things, 
 through Christ which strengtheneth me. Notwith- 
 standing, ye have well done that ye did communicate 
 with my afflictions/' Here, Cromwell interrupted him, 
 murmuring in broken accents : " This scripture did 
 once save my life, when my eldest son died, which went 
 like a dagger to my heart — indeed, it did." Where 
 he died ; in what battle he fell, no one knows ; but 
 here, on the verge of the eternal world, the long 
 pent-up sorrow bursts forth ; and the dying father 
 mourns, in heart-broken grief, over his brave son, cut 
 down in the morning of life by his side. He then asked 
 if it was possible to fall from a state of grace. On being 
 told that it was not, he was satisfied. Doubtless, the 
 struggles, and anxieties, and constant occupation of his 
 thoughts by public matters had driven him, of late, from 
 those spiritual contemplations he formerly delighted in ; 
 and hence, he now referred to them with joy and hope. 
 Continuing to grow worse, he was asked to name his 
 successor. He referred them to a sealed paper in 
 Hampton Court, drawn up a year ago. It was imme- 
 
1658.] HIS LAST HOURS. 425 
 
 diately sent for, but could not be found ; and not until 
 the night before his death, was he heard to name 
 Richard. In the intervals of his suffering, he spoke 
 incessantly of the goodness of God ; and forgetting him- 
 self in his anxiety for the church, prayed: "Lord, 
 though I am a miserable and wretched creature, I am 
 in covenant with Thee through grace. And I may — I 
 will come to thee for Thy people. Thou hast made me, 
 though very unworthy, a mean instrument to do them 
 good and Thee service : and many of them have set too 
 high a value upon me, though others would wish and 
 would be glad of my death : Lord, however Thou dost 
 dispose of me, continue to go on and do good for them. 
 Give them consistency of judgment, one heart, and 
 mutual love ; and go on to deliver them, and with the 
 work of reformation; and make the name of Christ 
 glorious in the world. Teach those who look too much 
 on Thy instruments, to depend more upon Thyself. 
 Pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a 
 poor worm, for they are Thy people, too. And pardon 
 the folly of this short prayer : even for Christ's sake. 
 And give us a good night, if it be Thy pleasure. Amen." 
 At length the last night drew on that was to usher in his 
 fortunate day. The 3d of September, the anniversary 
 of Dunbar, and of Marston, came amid wind and storm. 
 In this solemn hour for England, strong hearts were 
 everywhere beseeching heaven to spare the Protector : 
 but the King of Kings had issued his decree ; and the 
 spirit that had endured and toiled so long, was already 
 gathering its pinions for eternity. " It is a fearful thing 
 
426 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 to fall into the hands of the living God," broke thence 
 from his pallid lips, and then he fell, in solemn faith on 
 the covenant of grace. His breath came difficult and 
 thick ; but amid the pauses of the storm, he was heard 
 murmuring, " Truly God is good ; indeed He is ; He will 
 not " his tongue failed him ; "but, says an eye-wit- 
 ness,* " I apprehend it was, ' He will not leave me.' " 
 Again and again there escaped from the ever-moving 
 lips the half-articulate words "God is good — God is 
 good." Once, with sudden energy, he exclaimed, " / 
 would be willing to live, to be further serviceable to God 
 and his people ; but my work is done. Yet God will be 
 with his people" All night long, he murmured thus to 
 himself of God ; showing how perfect was his trust — 
 how strong his faith. Once, as some drink was offered 
 him, he said, " It is not my design to drink or to sleep ; 
 but my design is to make what haste I can to be gone." 
 While this scene was passing in that solemn cham- 
 ber, all was wild and terrible without. Nature seemed 
 to sympathize with the dying patriot and hero. The 
 wind howled and roared around the palace ; houses 
 were unroofed ; chimneys blown down ; and trees, that 
 had stood for half a century in the parks, were uptorn, 
 and strewn over the earth. The sea, too, was vexed — 
 the waves smote, in ungovernable fury, the shores of 
 England ; and vessels lay stranded along the coasts of 
 the Mediterranean. It was a night when there are, 
 
 " As they say, 
 Lamentings heard i' the air ; strange screams of death. 
 
 * Underwood. 
 
1658.] HIS DEATH. 427 
 
 And prophesying, with accents terrible 
 Of dire commotion, and confused events 
 Now hatched to the woeful time. * * 
 * * * * some say the earth 
 
 Was feverous and did shake." 
 
 But all was calm and serene around the dying bed 
 of Cromwell. On that more than kingly brow, peace, 
 like a white winged dove, sate ; and that voice which 
 had turned the tide of so many battles, now murmur- 
 ed only prayers. Bonaparte, dying in the midst of 
 just such a storm, shouted, " Tete d'armee" as his glaz- 
 ing eye fell once more on the heads of his mighty 
 columns disappearing in the smoke of battle; but 
 Cromwell took a noble departure. The storm and 
 uproar without, brought no din of arms to his dying 
 ear — not in the delirium of battle did his soul burst 
 away ; but, with his eye fixed steadfastly on the " eter- 
 nal kingdoms," and his strong heart sweetly stayed on 
 the promise of a faithful God, he moved from the shore 
 of time, and sank from sight for ever. 
 
 He died at three o'clock that day — on the very day, 
 which, eight years before, saw his sword flashing over 
 the tumultuous field of Dunbar — the same which, seven 
 years previous, heard him shouting on the ramparts of 
 Worcester. . But this was the last and most terrible 
 battle of all ; yet he came off victorious ; and triumph- 
 ing over his last enemy, death, passed into that serene 
 world, where the sound of battle never comes, and the 
 hatred and violence of men never disturb. 
 
 Thus perished Cromwell in his fifty-ninth year ; and 
 
428 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 those who stood and gazed on the motionless features, 
 and pallid lips, whose slightest motion so lately made 
 nations tremble, exclaimed, "A great man is fallen in 
 Israel!' 4 — ah, the noblest ruler that ever filled an Eng- 
 lish throne. With him sunk for a time the Protestant- 
 ism of England ; and Popery and royalty breathed free 
 again. But the principles he established remained im- 
 movable ; and finally, thirty years after, drove the last 
 Stuart out of the British empire. They burst into new 
 life in this country, and are now scattered like good 
 seed over Europe, where they have ever since been 
 taking root ; and will, eventually, bring forth the fruit 
 of universal liberty. 
 
 His body, embalmed, and wrapt in a sheet of lead, 
 lay concealed from public gaze, until the 26th of 
 September, when it was removed to Somerset House, 
 where it remained in state till the 23d of November. 
 The most imposing ceremonies honored his burial ; and 
 he was carried in all " the pomp and circumstance of 
 woe," to Westminster Abbey, where he lay in peace, 
 till a Stuart dug up his bones, and hung them on a 
 gallows — the lowest revenge of an ingoble soul. 
 
 Richard, too weak to rule, no sooner found the 
 movement against him strong, than he resigned his 
 Protectorate; and Charles II., "king by the grace of 
 God," ascended the throne, and turned his court into a 
 brothel, and sunk England in vice and corruption. 
 Mistresses directed the affairs of State; and those who 
 had struggled so nobly for the liberty of their country, 
 were tried, imprisoned, and executed. 
 
1658.] HIS CHARACTER. 429 
 
 We have endeavored to exhibit the character of 
 Cromwell in passing — let events illustrate him, rather 
 than theories. That he was a man of great contra- 
 dictions, no one can doubt. To-day, stern, cold, and 
 inflexible — to-morrow, kind, tender, and almost melan- 
 choly — at one moment solemn, devout, given to prayer 
 and exhortation — at another, boisterous, excited, and 
 full of practical jokes — now frolicking with a coarse 
 trooper, and now awing kings by his haughty frown — a 
 cool commander, and fiery enthusiast ; he moves, as- 
 tonishes, and alarms us by turns. His boisterous laugh 
 around the camp fire has hardly died away, before his 
 earnest, thrilling prayer chains every ear and kindles 
 every eye. He will storm like a madman through the 
 breach of Drogheda, and shout his followers on in their 
 work of slaughter; and yet bursts into an agony of 
 tears over the sufferings of the children of God in the 
 mountains of Piedmont. 
 
 There is a striking similarity between his career and 
 that of Bonaparte. Both claimed gentle blood, yet both, 
 in reality, belonged to the middle class. Both owed their 
 elevation to their military prowess, and gradually fought 
 their way up from a subordinate capacity, to com- 
 mander-in-chief of the army. Cromwell, finding the 
 government unequal to the wants of the nation, broke it 
 up by his musketeers ; Bonaparte, discovering the same 
 thing in France, dispersed the Council of Five Hundred 
 with his grenadiers. The former mounted to the place 
 of Charles I. and the latter to that of Louis XVI. They 
 were both regarded as plebeians by the monarchs of 
 
430 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Europe ; yet no sovereign with the blood of a thousand 
 kings in his veins, ever wielded a sceptre so powerful, 
 or commanded such unbounded respect and fear, as 
 they. But here the similarity ends. Bonaparte no 
 sooner gained supreme power, than he endeavored to 
 consolidate and perpetuate it, while Cromwell used his 
 solely to give strength to the government ; and yielded it 
 up as fast as he could with safety. Napoleon felt that 
 France was safest in his keeping, and seemed not to 
 think of the future. But Oliver, more thoughtful and 
 conscientious, contemplated the generations to come, 
 and labored to settle, before he died, the principles of 
 liberty, in the nation. He removed the major-generals, 
 as soon as it could be done without danger — grew less 
 and less severe towards other sects — equalized the repre- 
 sentation in England, as it never before had been done 
 — transferred his authority to parliament, without re- 
 serving to himself even the veto power,' and became 
 more and more liberal and tolerant the firmer he be- 
 came fixed in his place. 
 
 His administration, is now generally conceded to 
 have been one of the ablest with which England was 
 ever blessed. He fostered institutions of learning — 
 gave free scope to every branch of industry, and raised 
 the legal profession higher than it had ever before 
 stood. 
 
 In the revival of commerce — by his conquests in the 
 West Indies, and the triumph of his fleets everywhere — 
 he established the maritime ascendency of England ; 
 and in the management of affairs at home and abroad, 
 
1658.] HIS CHARACTER. 431 
 
 exhibited a grasp of thought, and a practical power, 
 combined with an earnestness and purity of purpose, 
 which England may in vain look for in any other 
 sovereign. Had he lived longer, so as to have consoli- 
 dated the government, and seen most of his restless 
 contemporaries safe under ground, or even left a son 
 but half equal to himself, the destiny of England would 
 have been different, and its after history, very possibly, 
 that of a republic. 
 
 Of his religious character we have already spoken. 
 No one can read his letters without believing in his 
 sincerty. The purity of God's Church on earth, was 
 ever uppermost in his mind; and he strove to give 
 Christianity that prominence in the nation it ought to 
 hold, and must hold, to secure continued prosperity. 
 Protestantism never had an abler or nobler cham- 
 pion. True, there was a great deal of cant in the re- 
 ligion of those times — probably there never was such a 
 mixture of hypocrisy and sincerity, fanaticism and true 
 godliness, as under the Commonwealth of England. 
 When all were more or less affected by the spirit that 
 was abroad, and men talked in Bible language, and 
 troopers preached and prayed with each other, and par- 
 liament itself was frequently turned into a prayer- 
 meeting, it is not to be expected that Cromwell should 
 be free from religious peculiarities. Probably one cause 
 of the great influence he obtained over the soldiers, 
 was the strong, religious excitement, that, at times, 
 mastered him, and caused him to make those wild and 
 stirring appeals which wrought them into such enthu- 
 
432 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 siasm. Frequently, just before an engagement, his 
 eye would kindle, and his countenance light up with 
 prophetic fire, and the words of Isaiah or David roll in 
 tremulous accents from his quivering lips, till every 
 sword leaped from its scabbard. 
 
 In these respects, he was unlike all other military 
 leaders of modern times. He sung psalms when he went 
 into battle, and consulted the Bible in his campaigns as 
 much as his maps, and quoted Scripture to parliament 
 — all of which may seem very weak in our day ; but 
 they detracted nothing from the strength and majesty 
 of Cromwell's character. A strong, sincere, and re- 
 ligious man — a Christian of Moses' time, if we may 
 use the term, rather than of ours — who read the Old 
 Testament much, and the Gospel little; pondered the 
 dispensation of law, more than that of grace; under- 
 stood the lofty language of David, better than the meek 
 words of John; loved the commandments more than 
 the beatitudes — a fierce fighter, a good ruler, and a stern 
 patriot, was Oliver Cromwell. He is outliving his tra- 
 ducers ; and will be honored by man long after thrones 
 have been cast aside as useless things. 
 
 He had his faults and committed many errors ; but, 
 as Carlyle says, it must be remembered that the career 
 he was forced into was anything but "dancing a 
 minuet." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 No. 1. 
 
 Petition of Right. — Humbly show unto our sovereign lord the 
 king, the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons, in parlia- 
 ment assembled, That, whereas it is declared and enacted by a 
 statute made in the time of the reign of king Edward I. commonly 
 called Statuium de tallagio non concedendo^ that no tallage or aid 
 shall be levied by the king or his heirs in this realm, without the 
 good-will and assent of the archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, 
 knights, burgesses, and other the freemen of the commonalty of 
 this realm; and, by authority of parliament, holden in the five 
 and twentieth year of the reign of king Edward III. it is de- 
 clared and enacted, That, from thenceforth, no person shall be 
 compelled to make any loans to the king against his will, because 
 such loans were against reason, and the franchise of the land : 
 and, by other laws of this realm, it is provided, that none should 
 be charged by any charge or imposition called a benevolence, or 
 by such like charge : by which the statutes before-mentioned, 
 and other the good laws and statutes of this realm, your subjects 
 have inherited this freedom, that they should not be compelled to 
 contribute to any tax, tallage, aid, or other like charge, not set by 
 common consent in parliament. 
 
 II. Yet nevertheless, of late divers commissions directed to 
 sundry commissioners in several counties, with instructions, have 
 issued ; by means whereof your people have been in divers places 
 assembled, and required to lend certain sums of money unto your 
 majesty, and many of them, upon their refusal so to do, have had 
 an oath administered unto them not warrantable by the laws or 
 statutes of this realm, and have been constrained to become bound 
 to make appearance and give attendance before your privy council, 
 and in other places : and others of them have been therefore im- 
 prisoned, confined, and sundry other ways molested and disquieted j 
 and divers other charges have been laid and levied upon your 
 people, in several counties, by lord-lieutenants, deputy-lieutenants, 
 19 
 
434 APPENDIX. 
 
 commissioners for musters, justices of peace, and others, by com- 
 mand or direction from your majesty, or your privy-council, 
 against the laws and free customs of this realm. 
 
 III. And whereas also, by the statute called The great charter 
 of the liberties of England, it is declared and enacted, That no 
 freeman may be taken or imprisoned, or be disseized of his free- 
 hold or liberties, or his free customs, or he outlawed or exiled, or 
 in any manner destroyed, but by the lawful judgment of his peers, 
 or by the law of the land.. 
 
 IV. And, in the eighth and twentieth year of the reign of king 
 Edward III. it was declared and enacted, by authority of parlia- 
 ment, That no man, of what estate or condition that he be, should 
 be put out of his land or tenements, nor taken, nor imprisoned, 
 nor disinherited, nor put to death, without being brought to 
 answer by due process of law. 
 
 V. Nevertheless, against the tenor of the said statutes, and 
 other the good laws and statutes of your realm to that end provi- 
 ded, divers of your subjects have of late been imprisoned without 
 any cause showed ; and, when, for their deliverance, they were 
 brought before justice, by your majesty's writs of Habeas Corpus, 
 there to undergo, and receive as the court should order, and their 
 keepers commanded to certify the causes of their detainer, no 
 cause was certified, but that they were detained by your majesty's 
 special command, signified by the lords of your privy-council, and 
 yet were returned back to several prisons, without being charged 
 with anything to which they might make answer according to the 
 law. 
 
 VI. And whereas of late great companies of soldiers and mari- 
 ners have been dispersed into divers counties of the realm, and the 
 inhabitants, against their wills, have been compelled to receive 
 them into their houses, and there to suffer them to sojourn, against 
 the laws and customs of this realm, and to the great grievance and 
 vexation of the people. 
 
 VII. And wdiereas also, by authority of parliament, in the five 
 and twentieth year of the reign of king Edward IN. it is declared 
 and enacted, That no man shall be forejudged of life or limb 
 against the form of the Great Charter and law of the land : and, 
 by the said Great Charter, and other the laws and statutes of this 
 your realm, no man ought to be judged to death but by the laws 
 established in this your realm, either by the. customs of the same 
 realm, or by acts of parliament : and whereas no offender, of what 
 kind soever, is exempted from the proceedings to be used, and 
 punishments to be inflicted by the laws and statutes of this your 
 realm : nevertheless, of late divers commissions, under your 
 majesty's great seal, have issued forth, by which certain persons 
 have been assigned and appointed commissioners, with power and 
 authority to proceed within the land, according to the justice of 
 
APPENDIX. 435 
 
 martial law, against such soldiers and mariners, or other dissolute 
 persons joining with them, as should commit any murther, robbery, 
 felony, mutiny, or other outrage or misdemeanor whatsoever, and 
 by such summary course and order as is agreeable to martial law, 
 and as is used in armies in time of war, to proceed to the trial and 
 condemnation of such offenders, and them to cause to be executed 
 and put to death according to the law martial. 
 
 VIII. By pretext whereof some of your majesty's subjects have 
 been by some of the said commissioners put to death, when and 
 where, if, by the laws and statutes of the land, they had deserved 
 death, by the same laws and statutes also they might, and by no 
 other ought, to have been judged and executed. 
 
 IX. And also sundry grievous offenders, by color thereof claim- 
 ing an exemption, have escaped the punishments due to them by 
 the laws and statutes of this your realm, by reason that divers of 
 your officers and ministers of justice have unjustly refused or for- 
 borne to proceed against such offenders according to the same laws 
 and statutes, upon pretence that the said offenders were punishable 
 only by martial law, and by authority of such commissions as 
 aforesaid: which commissions, and all other of like nature, are 
 wholly and directly contrary to the said laws and statutes of this 
 your realm. 
 
 X. They do therefore humbly pray your most excellent majesty, 
 That no man hereafter be compelled to make or yield any gift, loan, 
 benevolence, tax, or such like charge, without common consent, 
 by act of parliament : and that none be called to make answer, or 
 take such oath, or to give attendance, or be confined, or otherwise 
 molested or disquieted, concerning the same, or for refusal thereof : 
 and that no freeman, in any such manner as is before-mentioned, 
 be imprisoned or detained : and that your majesty would be pleased 
 to remove the said soldiers and mariners, and that people may not 
 
 . be so burthened in time to come ; and that the aforesaid commis- 
 sions, for proceeding by martial law, may be revoked and annul- 
 led : and that hereafter no commissions of like nature may issue 
 forth, to any person or persons whatsoever, to be executed as 
 aforesaid, lest, by color of them, any of your majesty's subjects 
 be destroyed, or put to death, contrary to the laws and franchise 
 of the land. 
 
 XI. All which they most humbly pray of your most excellent 
 majesty, as their rights and liberties, according to the laws and 
 statutes of this realm: and that your majesty would also vouch- 
 safe to declare, That the awards, doings, and proceedings to the 
 prejudice of your people, in any of the premises, shall not be 
 drawn hereafter into consequence or example: and that your 
 majesty would be also graciously pleased, for the further comfort 
 and safety of your people, to declare your royal will and pleasure, 
 that in the things aforesaid, all your officers and ministers shall 
 
436 APPENDIX. 
 
 serve you according to the laws and statutes of this realm, as they 
 tender the honor of your majesty, and the prosperity of this 
 kingdom. — Stat. 17 Car. cap. 14. 
 
 No. 2. 
 
 It was in these words : " Whereas Charles Stuart, king of 
 England, is and standeth convicted, attainted, and condemned of 
 high treason and other high crimes ; and sentence upon Saturday 
 last was pronounced against him by this court, to be put to death 
 by the severing of his head from his body, of which sentence 
 execution yet remaineth to be done. These are, therefore, to will 
 and require you to see the said sentence executed in the open 
 street, before Whitehall, upon the morrow, being the 30th day of 
 this instant month of January, between the hours of ten in the 
 morning and five in the afternoon of the same day, with full effect. 
 And for so doing this shall be your sufficient warrant. And these 
 are to require all officers, soldiers, and others, the good people of 
 this nation of England, to be assisting unto you in this service. 
 
 No. 3. 
 
 ' ; To Col. Francis Hacker, Col. Huncks, and Lieut. Col. Phray, 
 and to every of them. 
 
 " Given under our hands and seals. 
 (Sealed and subscribed by) 
 
 "John Bradshaw, Thomas Grey, Oliver Cromwell, Edward 
 Whaley, Michael Livesey, John Okey, John Danvers, John 
 Bourcher, Henry Ireton, Thomas Maleverer, John Blackiston, 
 John Hutchinson, William Goffe, Thomas Pride, Peter Temple, 
 Thomas Harrison, John Huson, Henry Smith, Peregrine Pelham, 
 Simon Meyn, Thomas Horton, John Jones, John More, Hardress 
 Waller, Gilbert Millington, George Fleetwood, John Alured, 
 Robert Lilburn, William Say, Anthony Stapely, Richard Deane, 
 Robert Tichburne, Humphrey Edwards, Daniel Blagrave, Owen 
 Roe, William Purefoy, Adrian Scroope, James Temple, Augustine 
 Garland, Edmond Ludlow, Henry Marten, Vincent Potter, William 
 Constable, Richard Ingoldsby, William Cawley, John Barstead, 
 Isaac Ewers, John Dixvvell, Valentine Walton, Gregory Norton, 
 Thomas Chaloner, Thomas Wogan, John Ven, Gregory Clement, 
 John Downs, Thomas Wayte, Thomas Scot, John Carew, Miles 
 Corbet."— iW*., vii., 1426. 
 
a r p e n d i x . 437 
 
 No. 4. 
 
 The following is the letter, together with the Queries addressed 
 to the Scotch ; 
 
 For the Honorable the Governor of the Castle of Edinburgh : These. 
 
 Edinburgh, 9th September, 1650. 
 
 Sir — -The kindness offered to the Ministers with you was done 
 with ingenuity ; thinking it might have met with the like ; but I 
 am satisfied to tell those with you, That if their Master's service 
 (as they call it) were chiefly inlheir eye, imagination of suffering 
 would not have caused such a return ; much less "would" the 
 practice of our Party, as they are pleased to say, upon the Minis- 
 ters of Christ in England, have been an argument of personal 
 persecution. 
 
 The Ministers in England are supported, and have liberty to 
 preach the Gospel ; though not to rail, nor under pretence thereof 
 to overtop the Civil Power, or debase it as they please. No man 
 hath been troubled in England or Ireland for preaching the Gospel ; 
 nor has any Minister been molested in Scotland since the coming 
 of the Army hither. The speaking truth becomes the Ministers 
 of Christ. 
 
 When Ministers pretend to a glorious Reformation ; and lay the 
 foundation thereof in getting to themselves worldly power; and 
 can make worldly mixtures to accomplish the same, such as their 
 late Agreement with their King ; and hope by him to carry on 
 their design, "they" may know that the Sion promised will not be 
 built of such untempered mortar. 
 
 As for the unjust Invasion they mention, time was when an 
 Army of Scotland came into England, not called by the Supreme 
 Authority. We have said, in our Papers, with what hearts, and 
 upon what account, we came ; and the Lord hath heard us, though 
 you would not, upon as solemn an appeal as any experience can 
 parallel. 
 
 And although they seem to comfort themselves with being sons 
 of Jacob, from whom (they say) God hath hid His face for a time; 
 yet it's no wonder when the Lord hath lifted up His hand so emi- 
 nently against a Family as He hath done so often against this, and 
 men will not see His hand — "it's no wonder" if the Lord hide His 
 face from such; putting them to shame both for it and their hatred 
 of His people; as it is this day. When they purely trust to the 
 Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, which is powerful 
 to bring down strongholds and every imagination that exalts itself 
 —which alone is able to square the stones for a new Jerusalem ; — 
 then, and not before, and by that means and no other, shall Jerusa- 
 
438 APPENDIX. 
 
 Jem, the City of the Lord, which is to be the praise of the whole 
 Earth, be built : the Sion of the Holy One of Israel. 
 I have nothing to say to you but that I am, Sir, 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 
 Oliver Cromwell. 
 
 QUERIES. 
 
 1. Whether the Lord's controversy be not both against the Minis- 
 ters in Scotland and in England, for their wresting and straining 
 " of the Covenant," and employing the Covenant against the Godly 
 and Saints in England (of the same faith with them in every funda- 
 mental) even to a bitter persecution ; and so making that which, 
 in the main intention, was Spiritual, to serve Politics and Carnal 
 ends — even in that part especially which was Spiritual, and did 
 look to the glory of God, and the comfort of His People % 
 
 2. Whether the Lord's controversy be not for your and the Min- 
 isters in England's sullenness at " God's great providences," and 
 " your" darkening and not beholding the glory of God's wonder- 
 ful dispensations in this series of His providences in England, 
 Scotland and Ireland, both now and formerly — through envy at in- 
 struments, and because the things did not work forth your Plat- 
 form, and the Great God did not come down to your minds and 
 thoughts. 
 
 3. Whether your carrying on a Reformation, so much by you 
 spoken of, have not probably been subject to some mistakes in 
 your own judgments about some parts of the same — laying so 
 much stress thereupon as hath been a temptation to you even to 
 break the Law of Love, " the greatest of all laws," towards your 
 brethren, and those " whom" Christ hath regenerated ; even to the 
 reviling and persecuting of them, and to stirring up of wicked 
 men to do the same, for your Form's sake, or but "for" some parts 
 of it. 
 
 4. Whether if your Reformation be so perfect and so spiritual, 
 be indeed the Kingdom of the Lord Jesus, it will need such carnal 
 policies, such fleshly mi xtures, such unsincere actings as "some 
 of these are ?" To pretend to cry down all Malignants ; and yet 
 to receive and set up the Head of them " all," and to act for the 
 Kingdom of Christ in his name, and upon advantage thereof % And 
 to publish so false a Paper, so full of special pretences to piety, as 
 the fruit and effect o£ his " repentance" — to deceive the minds of 
 all the Godly in England, Ireland and Scotland ; you, in your own 
 consciences, knowing with what regret he did it, and with what im- 
 portunities and threats he was brought to do it, and how much to 
 this very day he is against it % And whether this be not a high 
 provocation of the Lord, in so grossly dissembling with Him and 
 His people 1 
 
APPENDIX. 439 
 
 No. 5. 
 
 We have extracted from the speech, the portion devoted to an 
 explanation of his conduct. 
 
 I shall now begin a little to remind you of the passages that 
 have been transacted since Worcester. Coming from whence, 
 with the rest of my fellow Officers and Soldiers, we did expect, 
 and had some reasonable confidence our expectations would not be 
 frustrated, That, having such an history to look back unto, such a 
 God, so eminently visible, even our enemies confessing that " God 
 Himself was certainly engaged against tbem, else they should never 
 have been disappointed in every engagement," — and that may be 
 used by the way, That if we had but miscarried in the least, all 
 our former mercies were in danger to be lost : — I say, coming up 
 then, we had some confidence That the mercies God had shown, 
 and the expectations which were upon our hearts, and upon the 
 hearts of all good men, would have prompted those who were in 
 Authority to do those good things which might, by honest men, 
 have been judged fit for such a God, and worthy of such mercies ; 
 and indeed been a discharge of duty from those to whom all these 
 mercies had been shown, for the true interest of this Nation! If I 
 should now labor to be particular in enumerating how businesses 
 have been transacted from that time to the Dissolution of the late 
 Parliament, indeed I should be upon a theme which would be 
 troublesome to myself. For I think I may say for myself and my 
 fellow Officers, That we have rather desired and studied Healing and 
 Looking-forward than to rake into sores and to look backward, — 
 to give things forth in those colors that would not be very pleas- 
 ing to any good eye to look upon. Only this we shall say for our 
 own vindication, as pointing out the ground for that unavoidable 
 necessity, nay even that duty that was incumbent upon us, to 
 make this last great Change — I think it will not be amiss to offer a 
 word or two to that As 1 said before, we are loath to rake into 
 businesses, were there not a necessity so to do. 
 
 Indeed we may say that, ever since the coming-up of myself 
 and those Gentlemen who have been engaged in the military part, 
 it hath been full in our hearts and thoughts, to desire and use all 
 the fair and lawful means we could to have the Nation reap the 
 fruit of all the blood and treasure that had been spent in this Cause : 
 and we have had many desires, and thirstings in our spirits, to find 
 out ways and means wherein we might be anywise instrumental 
 to help it forward. We were very tender, for a long time, so 
 much as to petition. For some of the Officers being Members; 
 and others having very good acquaintance with, and some relations 
 to, divers Members of Parliament, — we did, from time to time, 
 solicit such j thinking if there had been nobody to prompt them, 
 
440 APPENDIX. 
 
 nor call upon them, these things might have been attended to, 
 from ingenuity and integrity in those that had it in their power to 
 answer such expectations. 
 
 Truly when we saw nothing would he done, we did, as we 
 thought according to our duty, a little, to remind them by a Peti- 
 tion ; which I suppose you have seen : it was delivered, as I 
 remember in August last. What effect that had, is likewise very 
 well known. The truth is, we had no return at all for our satis- 
 faction, — a few words given us : the things presented by us, or the 
 most of them, we were told, "were under consideration:" and 
 those not presented by us had very little or no consideration at all. 
 Finding the People dissatisfied in every corner of the Nation, and 
 "all men" laying at our doors the non-performance of these things, 
 which had been promised, and were of duty to be performed, — 
 truly we did then think ourselves concerned, if we would (as be- 
 comes honest men) keep up the reputation of honest men in the 
 world. And therefore we, divers times, endeavored to obtain 
 meetings with divers Members of Parliament; and we did not 
 begin those till about October last. And in these meetings we did, 
 with all faithfulness and sincerity, beseech them that they would 
 be mindful of their duty to God and men, in the discharge of the 
 trust reposed in them. I believe (as there are many gentlemen 
 here know), we had at least ten or twelve meetings ; most humbly 
 begging and beseeching of them, That by their own means they 
 would bring forth those good things which had been promised and 
 expected ; that so it might appear they did not do them by any 
 suggestion from the Army, but from their own ingenuity : so ten- 
 der were we to preserve them in the reputation of the People. 
 Having had very many of those meetings ; and declaring plainly • 
 that the issue would be the displeasure and judgment of God, the 
 dissatisfaction of the People, the putting of "all" things into 
 a confusion : yet how little we prevailed we very well know, and 
 we believe it's not unknown to you. 
 
 At last, when indeed we saw that things would not be laid to 
 heart, we had a very serious consideration among ourselves what 
 other ways to have recourse unto ; and when we grew to more 
 closer considerations, then they " the Parliament men" began to 
 take the Act for a Representative to heart, and seemed exceeding 
 willing to put it on. And had it been done with integrity, there 
 could nothing have happened more welcome to our judgment than 
 that. But plainly the intention was, Not to give the People a right 
 of choice ; it would have been but a seeming right • that " sem- 
 blance" of giving them a choice was only to recruit the House, the 
 better to perpetuate themselves. And truly, having been, diyers of 
 us, spoken unto to give way hereunto, to which we. made per- 
 petual aversions, indeed abominating the thoughts of it — we 
 declared our judgments against it, and our dissatisfaction with it. 
 
APPENDIX. 441 
 
 And yet they that would not hear of a Representative formerly 
 when it lay three years before them, without proceeding one line, 
 or making any considerable progress, — I say, those that would not 
 hear of this Bill formerly, did now, when they saw us falling into 
 more closer considerations, make, instead of protracting their Bill, 
 as much prosperous haste with it on the other side, and run into 
 that " opposite" extremity. 
 
 Finding that this spirit was not according to God ; and that the 
 whole weight of this Cause — which must needs be very dear unto 
 us who had so often adventured our lives for it, and we believe it 
 was so to you — did hang upon the business now in hand ; and 
 seeing plainly that there was not here any consideration to assert 
 this Cause, or provide security for it, but only to cross the trouble- 
 some people of the Army, who by this time were high enough 
 in their displeasures : Truly, I say, when we saw all this, having 
 power in our hands, " we could not resolve" to let such monstrous 
 proceedings go on, and so to throw away all our liberties into the 
 hands of those whom we had fought against : we came, first, to 
 this conclusion among ourselves, That if we had been fought out 
 of our liberties and rights, Necessity would have taught us pa- 
 tience ; but that to deliver them " sluggishly" up would render us the 
 basest persons in the world, and worthy to be accounted haters of 
 God and of his People. When it pleased God to lay this close to 
 our hearts ; and indeed to show us that the interest of His People 
 was grown cheap, " that it was" not at all laid to heart, but that 
 if things came to real competition, His Cause, even among them- 
 selves, would also in every point go to the ground : indeed this 
 did add more considerations to us, That there was a duty incum- 
 bent upon us, " even upon us." And — I speak here, in the 
 presence of some that were at the closure of our consultations, 
 and as before the Lord — the thinking of an act of violence was to 
 us worse than any battle that ever we were in, or that could be, to 
 the utmost hazard of our lives : so willing were we, even very 
 tender and desirous if possible that these- men might quit their 
 places with honor. 
 
 I am the longer upon this ; because it hath been in our own 
 hearts and consciences, justifying us, and hath never been yet 
 thoroughly imparted to any ; and we had rather begin with you 
 than have done it before — and do think indeed that this Transac- 
 tion is more proper for a verbal communication than to have it put 
 into writing. I doubt he whose pen is most gentle in England 
 would, in recording that, have been tempted, whether he would or 
 no, to dip it deep in anger and wrath. But affairs being at this pos- 
 ture ; we seeing plainly, even in some critical cases, that the Cause 
 of the People of God was a despised thing ; — truly we did believe 
 then that the hands of other men " than these" must be the hands 
 to be used for the work. And we thought then, it was very high 
 time to look about us, and to be sensible of our duty. 
 
442 APPENDIX. 
 
 If, I say, I should take up your time to tell you what instances 
 we have to satisfy our judgments and consciences, That these are 
 not vain imaginations, nor things fictitious, but which fell within 
 the compass of our own certain knowledge, it would bring me, I 
 say, to what I would avoid, to rake into these things too much. 
 Only this. If anybody was in competition for any place of real 
 and signal trust, "if any really public interest was at stake in that 
 Parliament," how hard and difficult a matter was it to get anything 
 carried without making parties — without practices indeed un- 
 worthy of a Parliament! When things must be carried so in a 
 Supreme Authority, indeed I think it is not as it ought to be, to 
 say no worse ! Then when we came to other trials, as in that 
 case of Wales, " of establishing a Preaching Ministry in Wales," 
 which, I must confess for my own part, I set myself upon — if I 
 should relate what discountenance that business of the poor Peo- 
 ple of God there had (who had men watching over them like so 
 many wolves, ready to catch the lambs so soon as they were 
 brought forth into the world) ; how signally that Business was 
 trodden under foot " in Parliament," to the discountenancing of the 
 Honest People, and the countenancing of the Malignant Party, of 
 this Commonwealth — ! I need but say it was so. For many of 
 you know, and by sad experience have felt it to be so. And 
 somebody I hope will, at leisure, better impart to you the state of 
 that Business " of Wales j" which really to myself and Officers, 
 was as plain a trial of their spirits, "the Parliament's spirits," as 
 anything— it being known to many of us that God had kindled a 
 seed there indeed hardly to be paralleled since the Primitive Time. 
 
 I would these had been all the instances we had ! Finding, 
 "however," which way the spirits of men went, finding that good 
 was never intended to the People of God — 1 mean when I say the 
 People of God, I mean the large comprehension of them, under the 
 several forms of Godliness in this Nation ; — finding, I say, that all 
 tenderness was forgotten to the Good People (though it was by 
 their hands and their means, under the blessing of God, that those 
 sat where they did) — we thought this a very bad requital ! I will 
 not say, they were come to an utter inability of working Reforma- 
 tion — though I might say so in regard to one thing: the Re- 
 formation of the Law, so much groaned under in the posture it 
 now is in. That was a thing we had many good words 
 spoken for; but we know that many months together were not 
 enough for the settling of one word, " Incumbrances — I say, find- 
 ing that this was the spirit and complexion of men — although these 
 were faults for which no man should lift up his hand against the 
 Superior Magistrate; not simply for these fciults and failings — yet 
 when we saw that this " New Representative of theirs" was 
 meant to perpetuate men of such spirits ; nay, when we had it from 
 their own mouths, That they could not endure to hear of the Dis- 
 
APPENDIX. 443 
 
 solution of this Parliament : we thought this an high breach of 
 trust. If they had been a Parliament never violence was upon, 
 sitting as free and clear as any in former ages, it was thought, this, 
 to be a breach of trust, such as a greater could not be. 
 
 And that we might not be in doubt about these matters: having 
 had that Conference among ourselves which I gave you an account 
 of, we did desire one more — and indeed it was the night before 
 the Dissolution ; it had been desired two or three nights before : 
 we did desire that we might speak with some of the principal 
 persons of the House. That we might with ingenuity open our 
 hearts to them ; that we might either be convinced of the certainty 
 of their intentions ; or else that they would be pleased to hear our 
 expedients to prevent these inconveniences. And indeed we could 
 not attain our desire till the night before the Dissolution. There 
 is a touch of this in our Declaration. As I said before, at that 
 time we had often desired it % and at that time we obtained it : 
 where about Twenty of them were, none of the least in considera- 
 tion for their interest and ability; with whom we desired some 
 discourse upon these things and had it. And it pleased these 
 Gentlemen, who are here, the Officers of the Army, to desire me to 
 offer their sense for them, which I did, and it was shortly thus: 
 We told them " the reason of our desire to wait upon them now 
 was, that we might know from them, What security lay in their 
 manner of proceeding, so hastened, for a New Representative ; 
 wherein they had made a few qualifications, such as they were : 
 and How the whole business would, "in actual practice," be exe- 
 cuted : Of which we had as yet no account ; and yet we had our 
 interest, our lives, estates and families therein concerned : and, we 
 thought likewise, the Honest People had interest in us : " How all 
 this was to be V That so, if it did seem they meant to appear in 
 such honest and just ways as might be security to the Honest In- 
 terest, we might therein acquiesce : or else that they would hear 
 what we had to offer." Indeed, when this desire was made, the 
 answer was, "That nothing would do good for this Nation but the 
 continuance of this Parliament !" We wondered we should have 
 such a return. We said little to that: but seeing they would not 
 give us satisfaction that their ways were honorable and just, we 
 craved their leave to make our objections. We then told them, 
 That the way they were going in would be impracticable. " That'' 
 we could not tell how to send out an Act, with such qualifications 
 as to be a rule for electing and for being elected, Until we first knew 
 who the persons were that should be admitted to elect. And 
 above all, Whether any of the qualifications reached " so far as to 
 include" the Presbyterian Party. And we were bold to tell them, 
 That none of that judgment who had deserted this Cause and In- 
 terest should have any power therein. We did think we should 
 profess it, That we had as good deliver up our Cause into the 
 
444 APPENDIX. 
 
 hands of any as into the hands of those who had deserted us, or 
 who were as neuters ! For it's one thing to love a brother, to bear 
 with and love a person of different judgment in matters of religion ; 
 and another thing to have anybody so far set in the saddle on that 
 account, as to have all the rest of his brethren at mercy. 
 
 Truly, Gentlemen, having this discourse concerning the imprac- 
 ticableness of the thing, the bringing-" 1 of neuters, and such as had 
 deserted this Cause, whom we very well knew; objecting like- 
 wise how dangerous it would be by drawing concourses of people 
 in the several Counties (every person that was within the qualifi- 
 cation or without) ; and how it did fall obvious to us that the 
 power would come into the hands of men who had very little 
 affection to this Cause : the answer again was made, and that by 
 very eminent persons, " That nothing would save the Nation but 
 the continuance of this Parliament." This being so, we humbly 
 proposed — since neither our counsels, our objections to their way 
 of proceeding, nor their answers to justify that, did give us satis- 
 faction ; nor did we think they ever intended to give us any, 
 which indeed some of them have since declared " to be the fact" — 
 we proposed to them, I say, oar expedient ; which was indeed 
 this: That the Government of the Nation being in such a condition 
 as we saw, and things " being" under so much ill sense abroad, 
 and likely to end in confusion " if we so proceeded" — we desired 
 they would devolve the trust over to some Well-affected Men. 
 such as had an interest in the Nation, and were known to be of 
 good affection to the Commonwealth. Which, we told them, was 
 no new thing when this land was under the like hurleyburlies. 
 And we had been laboring to get precedents " out of His- 
 tory" to convince them of it ; and it was confessed by them it had 
 been no new thing. This expedient we offered out of the deep 
 sense we had of the Cause of Christ ; and were answered so as I 
 told you, That nothing would save this Nation but the continu- 
 ance of that Parliament. " The continuance :" they would not 
 "be brought to" to say the perpetuating of it, at this time ; yet we 
 found their endeavors did directly tend that way ; they gave us 
 this answer, " That the thing we offered was of a very high nature 
 and of tender consideration : How would money be raised ?" — and 
 made some other objections. We told them " how ;" and that we 
 here offered an expedient five times better than that " of theirs," 
 for which no reason was given, nor we thought could be given ; 
 and desired them that they would lay things seriously to heart ! 
 They told us, They would take time for the considerations of these 
 things till to-morrow ; they would sleep upon them, and consult 
 some friends : " some friends" — though, as I said, there were 
 about Twenty-three " of them here," and not above Fifty-three in 
 the House. And at parting, two or three of the chief of them, one 
 of the chief, and two or three more, did tell us, That they would 
 
APPENDIX. 445 
 
 endeavor lo suspend farther proceedings about their Bill for a New 
 Representative until they had another conference with us. And 
 upon this we had great satisfaction ; and had hope, if our expe- 
 dient could receive a loving debate, that the next day we should 
 have some such issue thereof as would give satisfaction to all. 
 And herewith they went away, "it" being late at night. 
 
 The next morning, we considering how to order what we had 
 farther to offer to them in the evening, word was brought us that 
 the House was proceeding with all speed upon the New Repre- 
 sentative ! We could not believe it, that such persons would be so 
 unworthy ; we remained there till a second and a third messenger 
 came, with tidings, That the House was really upon that business, 
 and had brought it near to the issue — and with that height as was 
 never before exercised : leaving out all things relating to the due 
 exercise of the qualifications (which had appeared all along " in it 
 till now") ; and " meaning," as we heard, to pass it only on paper, 
 without engrossing, for the quicker despatch of it. — Thus, as we 
 apprehend, would the Liberties of the Nation have been thrown 
 away into the hands of those who had never fought for it. And 
 upon this we thought it our duty not to suffer it. And upon this 
 the House was dissolved, even when the Speaker was going to put 
 the last question. 
 
 I have too much troubled you with this : but we have made this 
 relation that you might know that what hath been done in the Dis- 
 solution of the Parliament was as necessary to be done as the 
 preservation of this Cause. And the necessity which led us to do 
 that, hath brought us to this " present" issue, Of exercising an 
 extraordinary way and course to draw You together " here ;" upon 
 this account, that you are men who know the Lord, and have made 
 observations of His marvellous Dispensations; and may be trusted, 
 as far as men may be trusted, with this Cause. 
 
 It remains now for me to acquaint you " a little" farther with 
 what relates to your taking upon you this great Business. "But 
 indeed" that is contained in the Paper here in my hand, which 
 will be offered presently to you to read. But having done that 
 we have done upon such ground of necessity as we have " now" 
 declared, which was not a feigned necessity but a real — "it did 
 behoove us," to the end we might manifest to the world the single- 
 ness of our hearts and our integrity who did these things, Not to 
 grasp at the power ourselves, or keep it in military hands, no not 
 for a day ; but, as far as God enabled us with strength and ability, 
 to put it into the hands of Proper Persons that might be called 
 from the several parts of the Nation. This necessity; and I hope 
 we may say for ourselves, this integrity of concluding to divest the 
 Sword of all power in the Civil Administration — hath been that 
 that hath moved us to put You to this trouble " of coming hither •" 
 
446 APPENDIX. 
 
 and having done that, truly we think we cannot, with the dis- 
 charge of our own consciences, but offer somewhat to you on the 
 devolving of the burden on our shoulders. It hath been the prac- 
 tice of others who have, voluntarily and out of a sense of duty, 
 divested themselves, and devolved the Government into new 
 hands ; I say, it hath been the practice of those that have done so ; 
 it hath been practiced, and is very consonant to reason, To lay 
 " down," together with their Authority, some Charge " how to 
 employ it' 1 (as we hope we have done), and to press the duty "of 
 employing it well :" concerning which we have a word or two to 
 offer you. 
 
VALUABLE BOOKS, 
 
 PUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY 
 
 BAKER & SCRIBNER, 
 
 BRICK CHURCH CHAPEL, 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH'S WORKS. 
 
 Uniform Edition.13 vols. 12mo. ft6 50. 
 
 Errata.— In looking over the sheets of the first edition I notice some errors. 
 Page 138, 6th line from bottom, read Bovey Tracy for "Bovey Chase." 
 " 149, 8th line from top read helpless for " penniless." 
 " 171, 2d line from top, read be for •' was." 
 " 172, 5th line from bottom insert that after " for." 
 " 229, in note put thirty before "six." 
 " 232, 8th line from top, read and for " or ." 
 " 327, 3d line from bottom, for around, read " amid." 
 " 336, 10th line from top, for his mercy, read " this mercy." 
 " 337, 10th line from top, for complete read " entire/' 
 " 349, date at the top should be 1651. 
 " 410, 12th line from top, his life should be left out. 
 
 " Mrs. Charlotte Elizabeth Tonna is one of the most gifted, popular, 
 and truly instructive writers of the present day. In clearness of thought, 
 variety of topics, richness of imagery, and elegance of expression, it is 
 ecarcely too much to say, that she is the rival of Hannah More, or to pre- 
 dict that her works will be as extensively and profitably read, as those 
 of the most delightful female writer of the last generation. All her 
 writings are pervaded by justness and purity of sentiment, and the 
 highest reverence for morality and religion; and may safely be com- 
 mended as of the highest interest and value to every family in the land." 
 — Morning News. 
 
 " Charlotte Elizabeth's works have become so universally known, and 
 •re so highly and deservedly appreciated in this country, that it has be- 
 come almost superfluous to mention them. We doubt exceedingly 
 whether there has been any female writer since Mrs. Hannah More, 
 whose works are likely to be so extensively and so profitably read as 
 hers. She thinks deeply and accurately, is a great analysist of the hu- 
 man heart, and withal clothes her thoughts in most appropriate and elo- 
 quent language." — Albany Argus. 
 
 a These productions constitute a bright relief to the corrupting litera- 
 ture in which our age is so prolific, full of practical instruction, illustra- 
 tive of the beauty of Protestant Christianity, and not the less abounding 
 In entertaining description and narrative." — Journal cf Commerce, 
 
vol. 
 
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 (1 
 
 38 
 
 Charlotte Elizabeth's Works. 
 
 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS, 
 
 HELEN FLEETWOOD, 
 
 JUDAH'S LION, 
 
 JUD/EA CAPTA, 
 
 THE SIEGE OF DERRY, 
 
 LETTERS FROM IRELAND, 
 
 THE ROCKITE, 
 
 FLORAL BIOGRAPHY, 
 
 PRINCIPALITIES AND POWERS, 
 
 ENGLISH MARTYRS, 
 
 PASSING THOUGHTS, 
 
 IZRAM, a Mexican Tule, OSRIC, a Missionary Tale," 
 
 CONFORMITY, \ 
 
 THE CONVENT BELL, a Tale, f 
 
 GLIMPSES OF THE PAST, cr the Museum 
 
 PHILIP AND HiS GARDEN, " " 38 
 
 THE FLOWER OF INNOCENCE, " " 33 
 
 THE SIMPLE FLOWER, " " 38 
 
 ALICE EENDEN, and other Tales, " " 38 
 
 FEMALE MARTYRS, " " 38 
 
 TA_ES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, " " 38 
 
 DRESSMAKERS AND MILLINERS, H ' 25 
 
 THE FORSAKEN HOME, " " 25 
 
 THE LITTLE PiN-HEADERS, ■ " 25 
 
 THE LACE RUNNERS, " " 25 
 
 LETTER WRITING, " u 25 
 
 BACK BITING, " " 25 
 
 PROMISING AND PERFORMING, " " 25 
 
 THE PEEP OF DAY, 
 
 Or a Series of the earliest Religious instruction, the Infant 
 Mind is capable of receiving, with verses illustrative ol 
 the subjects, 1 vol. l8mo, with engravings. $0 50. 
 
 LINE UPON LINE, 
 
 By the Author of " Peep of Day," a second series, SO 50. 
 
 PRECEPT UPON PRECEPT, 
 
 By the author of " Peep of Day," etc., a third series, $0 50. 
 This is probably the best and most popular -series of Juve- 
 nile Books evfer published. The publishers refer with the 
 most entire confidence to all parents and teachers who have 
 introduced these books into their families or schools, who 
 who will testify as to the useful and correct religious instrue* 
 tion which they contain. 
 
IRELAND'S WELCOME TO THE STRANGER: 
 
 Or, an Excursion through Ireland in 1844 and 1845, for 
 the purpose of personally investigating the condition of 
 the poor. By A. ^lieholpon. Baker & Scribner. 
 
 Letter from Hot. Wm. H. Seward, to the Publishers. 
 
 Auburn, September 30th, 1847. 
 Gentlemen : 
 
 The book of Mrs. Nicholson which you kindly sent to me has 
 been receive!, and read with deep interest. 
 
 It has many blemishes, and yet 1 sincerely believe it to be one of the 
 best Books of Travel ever written. Indeed I never read one concern- 
 ing which I could feel assured that it gave the naked truth, and the 
 whole of it. No one can doubt the scrupulous truthfulness and fulness 
 of Mrs. Nicholson's account of Life in Ireland. As I think no people 
 have been more wrongfully or more severely oppressed in Modern 
 Europe than the Irish, so I know of none who have so just a claim on 
 our sympathy. Mrs. Nicholson's book is an argument for that 
 claim, derived from the very best source, the actual condition of the 
 Irish People. I hope it may find a broad circulation. No one can 
 read it without thinking more justly of the People of Ireland, and 
 without being improved by the perusal. 
 
 With many thanks for your courtesy, I am, 
 
 Gentlemen, your humble servant, 
 
 WILLIAM H. SEWARD. 
 
 Messrs. Baker & Scribner. 
 
 " Mrs. Nicholson is a woman of talents, genius, and of most unques- 
 tionable benevolence, — of noble purposes, and never weary in her 
 efforts to achieve them, — a reformer, and w r ondering that the wheels 
 of reformation move so tawlily towards the goal. In 1844, she felt 
 called to a mission to Ireland, for the purpose of investigating per- 
 sonally the condition of the Irish poor. Of course she went. Some- 
 times in stages, and sometimes in fly-boats, sometimes in the pea- 
 sant's car, and sometimes on foot, — sometimes with money, and 
 sometimes without, — sometimes spurned from the mansions of the 
 great and sheltered in the hut of poverty, and sometimes refused ad 
 mission to the hut, and welcomed to the castle, she traversed Ire 
 land, and here is the record of her wanderings, in 1844 and 1845, 
 The interest of somo of its passages is intense, — you are move* 
 sometimes to pity, sometimes to indignation,— now you laugh, ana 
 the next moment you are moved to tears. We confess that we hav« 
 received new light on the condition of Ireland, and are able to ap- 
 
 fsreciate now as we were not able to appreciate before, how dread 
 ul must have been the famine of the last winter."— N. Y. Recorder 
 
 " The author is a female of striking peculiarities and eccentricities. 
 Alone she visited Ireland on a tour of exploration, and mainly rely- 
 ing on her own resources, without the aid of influential friends, 
 and, as it would seem, with a slender purse she travels over the 
 greater portion of the Island, sometimes on foot, and sometimes in 
 the Irish jaunting-car. Her mission, whatever might be its definite 
 design, was principally to the poor, and we find her everywhere in 
 the hovels of poverty partaking of the hospitality of those who 
 could oner her no better faie than a potato and a straw bed. These 
 
visits sue describes in her own peculiar style, and gives the con- 
 versations she hud with the wretched and oppressed inhabitants. 
 Many of her sketches are highly graphic, sometimes amusing, and 
 often touching. The general picture of the condition of the poor is 
 gloomy indeed, and hears the marks of truth. Irish character is 
 also well portrayed." — Presbyterian. 
 
 ; < Her heart is indeed warm with her theme. She bears you with 
 breathless interest from cabin to cabin, and from mountain top and 
 valley, to mountain top and valley. She makes you a party in 
 everything. Her hold and graphic descriptions charm you — her 
 glowing pictures, revealing the secret workings of humanity, live 
 in memory — her simple and touching delineations of the life of Ire- 
 land's poor, melt you to tears, and command your sympathy ; and 
 you arise from the perusal of the work, with better views of life, 
 new and deeper feelings for your kind, and with a constrained de- 
 sire to follow her in the walks of Christian travel and benevo- 
 lence." — Albany Spectator. 
 
 " She has tn/elled among the people, and has seen them in their 
 cottages and hovels, and tells us all she saw with a sprightliness 
 which prevents our interest from flagging. Those who feel an in- 
 terest in this noble but oppressed people, will consider this work of 
 much value." — Jersey City Telegraph. 
 
 r " As the spirit of benevolence dictated the purpose in which this 
 book originated, so it breathes through every page of its contents. 
 It is the production of one of our countrywomen, who, partly from 
 an admiration of the Irish character, and partly from sympathy with 
 Irish suffering, adventured in the heroic enterprise of going single- 
 handed and alone, to ascertain for herself the actual condition of the 
 peasantry of that ill-fated country. She has made a book that 
 speaks well both for her head and heart. Her details of what she 
 witnessed and experienced are exceedingly minute and graphic, 
 and display as much of true Irish character as we have met with 
 anywhere within the same limits." — Albany Argus. 
 
 This work will probably create considerable interest at the pre- 
 sent day, connected as it is with the recent famine and sickness in 
 unhappy Ireland. It is the transcript of views and impressions 
 made upon a disinterested (though not uninterested) yet benevolent 
 lady, who went among the lowest classes, for the purpose of per- 
 sonally investigating tiieir condition, and relieving it. as far as laid 
 in her power. The narrative is finely written, and the scenes de- 
 picted are both afl'ecting and amusing." The work presents a scene 
 of human misery almost too painful to read, yet so interspersed with 
 relations characteristic of the Irish, as to present an interesting and 
 instructing book." — C'/tiistiaii Intelligencer. 
 
 '• The heroic fidelity with which this unenviable, but most useful 
 mission, was performed ; the gentle sympathy, the kind advice and 
 assistance which she bestowed ; and more than all. the faithful but 
 startling picture of Irish poverty which she has brought above 
 ground, the volume will disclose to the reader. And no one, we 
 are sure, can read it without being agitated with the profoundest 
 pity for the poor, starving, degraded Irish, or without admiration for 
 
the practical, energetic philanthropy of tne> woman who could d 
 all this. The style of the work is straight-forward, simple, truth 
 ful. and therefoie eloouent ; and of all the books on that much-be- 
 written country, we have never met one half so interesting, instruc- 
 tive, or suggestive. At the present time, when thousands of Irish- 
 men are coming to claim our compassion, we wish that America* 
 charity might receive the impulse that this book is so admirably 
 adapted to give."— N. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 " The book will be found deeply interesting. In fact it could 
 scarcely be expected otherwise, when it is remembered that a lady 
 of refined feelings, blended with deep and ardent piety, and a very 
 graceful writer withal is the author ; and that this lady actually 
 travelled through Ireland, stopping at the low mud cabins,— by the 
 wayside, — and wherever she found an object of charity to whom she 
 could minister consolation. We have never met with a book in 
 which the condition of Ireland appeared to be so faithfully pic- 
 tured." — Clirislian Secretary. 
 
 "Ireland's 1Vclco7ne to a Stranger, is the result of a bold novelty 
 in our travelling annals. A lady of mind, heart and education visit- 
 ed Ireland in the most unpretending war, and with the intention 
 of searching out the very pith of the matter as she explored the 
 fountain of Irish woes and Irish hopelessness. No visitor she of lordly 
 halls and stately institutions ; her time and sympathies were given to 
 the suffering and down-cast in-dweller in lowly cabins by the way 
 side. The story of her wanderings among the poor are told in one 
 of the most vivid, earnest, heart-reaching volumes of the day. The 
 writer is a woman in feeling, an American in sentiment, and a true 
 missionary in conduct. Some of the anecdotes — so simply, yet so 
 effectively told — are worth more than any missionary sermon ever 
 given from a pulpit, and no one who takes up the book will lay it 
 down willingly before he comes to the end. When he does it will 
 be with a cordial acknowledgment that he has learned much that it 
 is well to know, and that Messrs. Baker & Scribner have given the 
 public a most interesting book in Mrs. Nicholson's recital of 'Ire- 
 land's Welcome to the Stranger.' »—N. Y. Sun. 
 
 "Over three years ago Mrs. Nicholson set sail for Ireland, deter- 
 mined to make herself thoroughly acquainted with the denizens ot 
 its cabins and hovels, so as to qualify herself to judge what are the 
 true causes of the squalid wretchedness there so prevalent, and oi 
 the practicability and proper means of alleviating it. In this spirit 
 she has since travelled over a great part of the unhappy kingdom, 
 mainly on foot and often alone, stopping to rest at the lowliest 
 habitations, and grudging no inconvenience nor rebuff, so that she 
 was enabled to see clearly and report truly the condition of the 
 Irish people. A stern Protestant, she was not likely to be misled 
 by religious sympathy. And she has given us an instructive, 
 plain-spoken, unpretending book, full of facts which will prove 
 useful in the progress of the struggle for the emancipation not ox 
 Ireland's millions only, but of the oppressed and famished every. 
 Where."— N Y. Tribune J 
 
BAKER AND SCRIBNER 
 
 HAVE RECENTLY PUBLISHED : 
 
 THE czar: his court and people, 
 
 Including a tour in Norway and Sweden. By John S. 
 Maxwell, pp. 368. 1 vol., 12mo 
 
 " A volume of uncommon excellence, upon a region of the earth, 
 hitherto not much treated by Americans. Mr. Maxwell's diplomatic 
 position gave him remarkable opportunities for observing men and 
 things in Russia ; and his scholarship and sound judgment, have 
 given to these observations a shape which must secure high esteem 
 for the book. It is full of information, and exempt from every sus- 
 picion of tediousness or egotism. The picture of the noble Scandi- 
 navian countries, with which the volume opens, is fascinating to a 
 degree for which, we confess, we were unprepared."— Princeton 
 Review. 
 
 " Seldom have we received a more agreeable or instructive vol- 
 ume of travels. The author visited Russia in a diplomatic capacity, 
 and enjoyed remarkable opportunities for observation. He passed 
 through several of the northern countries of Europe, and a consi- 
 derable portion of the Russian empire, including Moscow and 
 Tetersburgh ; and the results of his observations are given with re- 
 markable ease and naturalness. His account of the Scandinavian 
 countries is a delightful picture of an orderly, moral people, enjoy- 
 ing the blessings of good government and regulated liberty."— 
 Newark Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " The description of the present state of Norway is a delightful 
 and graphic picture of the habits and manners of the people of this 
 primitive country. Nor are the details of Russian Society and per- 
 sonal recollections of Nicholas and his court, less worthy of com- 
 mendation. The style is remarkably free from exaggeration and 
 sickly sentiment— qualifications we consider to be invaluable in a 
 modern tourist."— The Albion. 
 
 " The sterling bullion of the book, which we heartily commend 
 to our readers, is very much enhanced by the elegant style in which 
 it is detailed ; and its merits, in every respect, ought to secure to 
 this volume a place in every library. The whole is exceedingly 
 well-written, and contains a mass of valuable information difficult to 
 be found in any other publication." — Home Journal. 
 
 " The writer of this book seems to us to have shown himself intel- 
 ligent, observing, judicious, and impartial ; and these surely are the 
 most important reauisites for an author of a book of travels. He 
 
has had many predecessors in the same route, who have chronicled 
 their observations and adventures as he has done ; but there is a 
 freshness and good temper and point in what he has written that will, 
 notwithstanding, deservedly secure to hrs work, a more than com- 
 Mon share of public favor." — American Literary Magazine. 
 
 " It is so condensed as not to be tedious, but sufficiently detailed to 
 give a fair view of men, manners, and things in those parts of Europe 
 which have not been written to utter sterility by the travelling 
 book-makers. He has done well ; and we believe that a discerning 
 public will seek his book, and be pleased with it." — The Observer. 
 
 (> It is a clever book by an intelligent American tourist, a New 
 Jforker, who visited Russia with every advantage for seeing the 
 country and its people, and " seeing it well," to use a phrase of 
 Madame de Sevigny. His sketches of the social life of the Russians, 
 of the habits of the nobility and their serfs, are well drawn, and his 
 notes of the political and moral condition of Russia are instructive." 
 — The Evening Post. 
 
 THE ORATORS OF FRANCE, 
 
 By Cormenin. Illustrated with portraits. 1 vol., 12mo 
 Third edition. 
 
 "Every one, at the present time, is anxious to become acquainted 
 with the men who are figuring in the transactions of the Revolution 
 now in progress in France. We commend this book to our readers, 
 as the best clue which they can possibly take up for the acquire 
 ment of the knowledge they are desirous to obtain. 
 
 "This book was written by Cormenin, two years ago ; and the 
 truthfulness of his estimates may be seen in the parts which have 
 since been played by the great men whom he then portrayed. We 
 regard this as a very superior production, and have read it with 
 deep interest." — Alliance and Visiter. 
 
 " This work is a translation of the famous ' Oratorical Portraits' of 
 Timon, the publication of which created an enthusiasm in the poli- 
 tical world quite equal to that caused by the famous ' Junius.' — Eve- 
 ning Herald. 
 
 " For discriminating views of the characters of the times and the 
 men of which it treats, and for vigor and elegance of style, this work 
 is not surpassed by anything that has yet appeared."— Daily Ad- 
 vertiser. 
 
 " Timon wields a masterly pen : terse, graphic, and spirited, he 
 never for a moment suffers our interest to flag ; and we close the 
 book with as keen a relish as when we commenced. Though he has 
 devoted but a brief space to each orator, so condensed are his 
 thoughts, so nervous his language, and so clear and distinct his limn- 
 ings, that we obtain a vivid idea of their most striking characteris- 
 tics." — New York Evening Post. 
 
 " Remarkable for rapidity of transition, sudden flashes of brilliant 
 'magery, bold and direct perception of motives and actions, profound 
 observation, sententious, picturesque and eloquent, the book is all 
 Lhat is requisite for great and deserved popularity."— Evening Tran- 
 script. 
 
TEACHING A SCIENCE-THE TEACHER AN ARTIST. 
 
 By Rev. Baynard R. Hall, A.M., author of " Something 
 for Everybody," &c. 1 vol., 12mo. 
 
 " The author of this work has a strong claim on his readers' at 
 tention. He speaks from experience, having been engaged in the 
 business of teaching for a quarter of a century. He has been prin- 
 cipal of schools various in their character ; has taught mathematics, 
 sciences, languages, and the lower and higher branches of the Eng- 
 lish. His pupils have been of different States, nations, sexes, ant 
 ages, thus obliging him to practise different modes of instructing 
 and governing. For these, and similar reasons, he seems led to sup- 
 pose that the world will give him a favorable hearing ; and wehonoi 
 his judgment, being persuaded his book will be read with absorbing 
 interest. — Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 " A vigorous pen is employed in the work, in setting forth clearly 
 and eloquently advocating important truths, which all teachers 
 should ponder." — Protestant Chuichman. 
 
 " His perceptions are acute, his mind logical, his judgment sound, 
 his language terse and pointed, and his sarcasms cutting to the root 
 and branch of error. His work before us will live, and perform its 
 mission. — The Spectator. 
 
 " An army of such teachers as Mr. Hall pictures in this work, 
 would do more for the advancement of a country in all that is en' 
 Jiobling and exalting in its character, than mere legislation, how- 
 ever wise, or science and art, however extensive, could possibly 
 accomplish." — The Episcopal Recorder. 
 
 THE OWL CREEK LETTERS, AND OTHER COR- 
 RESPONDENCE- 
 
 By W. 1 
 
 " They exhibit some masterly traits of authorship, and present 
 truths and sentiments of no little worth in a garb unusually attrac- 
 tive." — New York Evangelist. 
 
 "They are written with taste and true feeling, and many of them 
 are of touching beauty." — The Observer. 
 
 "Rural life and scenes, summer adventures and home-bred plea 
 sures, the sports of the field and the family, the watering-place, and 
 the farm-house, in our own beloved America, are here exhibited in a 
 series of desultory, but charming sketches, characterized by free- 
 dom, grace, and genial feeling." — The Newark Sentinel. 
 
 " Very agreeable and sketchy, picturing to the eye the forest and 
 lake scenery, the excitement of the hunter, and the eager devotion 
 of the fly -fisher, together with little domestic incidents of the plea- 
 sant and mournful kind, with various et ceteras, to which an agree- 
 able letter-writer knows how to impart an interest which attracts 
 the reader." — Presbyterian. 
 
 " Some passages in this book equal in pnwor of description any 
 thing we have ever met with."— The Constitution. 
 
THE BETHEL FLAG. 
 
 A SERIES OF SHORT DISCOURSES TO SEAMEN. 
 
 By Gardiner Spring, D.D. 1 vol., 12mo: 
 
 " The name of Dr. Spring were enough of itself to insure the ex- 
 cellence and usefulness of this volume. But no one could read it, 
 with no knowledge of its author, without feeling his soul burn with- 
 in him, as truth after truth, the most sublime and consoling, charged 
 with blessedness to the spirit, is most eloquently unfolded, and affec- 
 tionately applied." — The Spectator. 
 
 TALES FOR THE RICH AND POOR. 
 
 By T. S. Arthur. 6 vols., 18mo. 
 
 KEEriNG UP APPEARANCES 
 RICHES HAVE WINGS. 
 RISING IN THE WORLD. 
 MAKING HASTE TO BE RICH. 
 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 THE POWER OF THE PULPIT, 
 
 Or Plain Thoughts addressed to Christian Minis- 
 ters, and those who hear them, on the Influence of 
 a Preached Gospel. 1 vol., 12mo. By Rev. Gar- 
 diner Spring, D. D., with a beautiful steel portrait 
 of the author. 
 
 LECTURES ON SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 2 vols., 12mo. By H. N. Hudson. 
 
 LIFE OF OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo. By J. T. Headley, author of "Napoleon 
 and his Marshals," &c, with portrait. (Ready early 
 in May.) 
 
 NAPOLEON AND HIS MARSHALS. 
 
 2 vols., 12mo. By J. T. Headley. Seventeenth edition. 
 
 WASHINGTON AND HIS GENERALS. 
 
 2 vols., 12mo. By J. T. Headley. Fifteenth edition. 
 
 New York, May 1st. 1848. 
 
63 
 

 
 
 
 
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