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THE 
 
 LIFE OF 
 
 OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 > '•' • 
 
 BY REV. G. R. GLEIG. 
 
 ('OMPLKTK IX ONK VOLUME. 
 
 P U P. L I S H E D I1Y CHARLES L A N E . » 
 1840. 
 

THE 
 
 LIFE OF 
 
 OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 it is well known that from the era of 
 the Norman conquest there were never want- 
 ing bands of mercenary soldiers to occupy the 
 castles and fortified towns belonging to the 
 king, no traces of a standing army, similar in 
 its composition to those which now exist 
 throughout the whole of Europe, can be dis- 
 covered in this country prior to the middle of 
 the 17th century. Down to that date, wars, 
 whether of defence of conquest, were carried 
 on either by the feudal militia, or by troops 
 raised under a commission of array; which, 
 being enrolled for some particular service, were, 
 on its conclusion, disbanded, and sent again to 
 their own homes. The great struggle between 
 Charles I. and his parliament led, almost un- 
 
4 THE LITE OF 
 
 avoidably, to a different arrangement. Though 
 hegun, and to a certain extent concluded, by 
 the yeomen of the counties and the trained 
 bands of cities, that contest may he said to 
 have produced a new order in the body politic; 
 for the men who waged it successfully, becom- 
 ing soldiers by profession, laid aside neither 
 their asms nor their discipline after peace was 
 restored. Asa necessary ctjnsequence a stand- 
 ing army sprang up, the first, indeed, which 
 England had ever maintained; nor from that 
 era to the present time have circumstances per- 
 mitted that an engine so powerful in itself, yet 
 po eminently conducive to tranquillity, should 
 be laid aside. 
 
 Of this vital change in the military system of 
 his country, the reader need scarcely be in- 
 formed that Oliver Cromwell was the author. 
 Raised to the highest eminence by the influ- 
 ence of the soldiery, that extraordinary man 
 found himself compelled, not merely to depend 
 upon them for continued support, but to keep 
 them in such a condition as that the check of 
 military discipline should never for a moment 
 be relaxed. Of him, therefore, one of the' 
 most profound statesmen as well as successful 
 soldiers whom England has ever produced, wo 
 propose to give an account; avoiding as far as 
 possible all speculations on points purely relig- 
 ious or political, that we may bring more pro- 
 minently into notice his exploits and tactics as 
 a great military commander. 
 
 Oliver Cromwell was born at Huntingdon on 
 the 25th of AprH, 1599. Both by fatherland 
 mother's side his family wai respectable, for 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 5 
 
 he was the son of Robert, the grandson of sir 
 H-cnrv, a great-grandson of sir Richard Crom- 
 well; the last a Welsh gentleman of an ancient 
 stock, who exchanged the name of Williams 
 for that of Cromwell, on his marriage with a 
 sister of Thomas earl of Kssex. [To the policy 
 of Henry VII. the genera! adoption of sur- 
 names by the Welsh families is owing. Partly 
 with a view to blot out all remembrance of na- 
 tional distinctions, and partly that the business 
 of the courts of law might be facilitated, that 
 politic monarch prevailed upon his Cambrian 
 subjects to drop their original patronymic, ap. 
 Morgan ap William, or the son of William, be- 
 came henceforth Morgan Williams; though, in 
 the particular case before us, a Morgan ap 
 William was persuaded to assume the name of 
 Cromwell.] His mother again claimed, upon 
 ground far from fanciful, to be a scion of the 
 royal tree of Stuart She was the daughter of 
 Walter Stewart, of the isle of Ely, a lineal de- 
 scendant, according to North, from James I., 
 lord high steward of Scotland, and a cousin, 
 not very distantly removed, of Charles, the un- 
 fortunate opponent of his grandson. Other 
 generalogies are indeed given, some of them 
 more, some less gratify ing to the family pride 
 of the protector; but they all agree in attesting, 
 that with the blood of the monarch, whom he 
 ultimately dethroned, that of Cromwll was 
 allied. 
 
 With this admitted fact before us, it is not 
 easy to suppress a smile at the anxiety evinced 
 by the personal and political enemies of the 
 protector, or undervalue even the lineage of 
 
6 THE LIFE OF 
 
 th "ir £reat oppressor. One of the favourite 
 lira sms tlirovvn out against him is, that he 
 was the son of a hrewer, and that in his own 
 person he followed the same humble occupa- 
 tion. There seems good ground for admitting 
 that both assertions are correct, though there 
 is surely none, in a country like England, for 
 regarding the fact* as disgraceful; unless, in- 
 deed, the disgrace attach to the individuals by 
 whom they were brought forward in a spirit of 
 paltry because posthumous hostility. The fa- 
 ther of Oliver, being a second son, was some- 
 what slenderly provided for. He endeavoured 
 to improve his circumstances by embarking in 
 business, a measure the reverse of discreditable 
 either to his judgment or his gentility; and he 
 succeeded, as the representatives of many of 
 the first families in the nation have done, both 
 before and since, in obtaining an honest liveli- 
 hood by exercising an honest trade. This, as 
 it is by far the most satisfactory, is likewise the 
 most manly reply that can be offered to the sup- 
 posed calumny; for the insinuations of such as 
 would shift the opprobrium from the shoulders 
 of the husband to those of the wife, are not 
 more hollow in argument than they are despi- 
 cable in design. 
 
 There are many curious anecdotes on record 
 relative both to the childhood and early youth 
 of Oliver Cromwell. It is stated that on one 
 occasion, when his uncle sir henry Cromwell 
 sent for him, he being then an infint, a mon- 
 key snatched him from the cradle, leaped with 
 him through a garret window, and ran along 
 the leads. The utmost alarm was of course 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 7 
 
 «xcited, and a variety of devices proposed, with 
 the desperate hope of relieving him from his 
 perilous situation. But the monkey, as if con- 
 scious that she bore the fortune of England 
 in her paws, treated him very gently. After 
 amusing herself for a time, she carried the in- 
 fant back, and laid him safely on the bed from 
 whence she had removed him. Some time 
 later, the waters had well nigh quenched his 
 aspiring genius. lie fell into a deep pond, from 
 which a clergyman, named Johnson, rescued 
 him. Many years afterwards the loyal curate, 
 then an old man, was recognised by the repub- 
 lican general, when marching at the head of a 
 victorious army through Huntingdon. "Do 
 you remember that day when you saved me 
 from drowning?" wuid Cromwell. "I do," 
 replied the clergyman; "and I wish with all 
 my soul that I had put you in, rather than see 
 you in arms against your sovereign." A third 
 story we cannot refuse to give, because it 
 made a more than common impression at the 
 time. 
 
 There was a rumour prevalent in Hunting- 
 don, that Oliver Cromwell and Charles 1., 
 when children nearly of the same age, met at 
 Hinchinbrooke House, the seat of sir Oliver 
 Cromwell, the uncle and godfather of the form- 
 er. "The youths had not been long together," 
 says Noble, "before Charles and Oliver disa- 
 greed; and as ther former was then as weakly 
 as the latter was strong, it was no wonder that 
 the royal visitant was worsted; and Oliver, 
 even at this age, so little regarded dignities, 
 that he made the royal blood flow in copious 
 
8 THE LIFE OF 
 
 streams from the prince's nose. This," adds 
 the same author, "was looked upon as a had 
 presage for that king, when the civil wars com- 
 menced." [The account of this pugilistic 
 encounter between Charles and Cromwell is, 
 to say the least of it, In no means improbable. 
 It is well known that sir Oliver, a true and 
 loyal knight, sumptuously entertained king 
 Jame6 on more than one occasion; and the 
 young prince, being twice, at least, of the 
 party, such a falling out is not unlikely to have 
 occured.] 
 
 It seems to have been the wish of his mo- 
 ther, by whom he was greatly beloved, to be- 
 stow upon Oliver an education strictly domes- 
 tic; and a Mr. Long, a clergyman of the 
 established church, was accordingly engaged to 
 act as his private tutor. Mr. Long, however, 
 who possessed little influence over his pupil, 
 soon resigned his charge; upon which Oliver 
 was placed in the free gr ammar school at 
 Huntingdon, then taught by Dr. Thomas Beard. 
 Very various and contradictory accounts are 
 given of his progress under his new master. A 
 foreign writer, who delights in the marvellous, 
 has represented the future protector as a pro- 
 digy of learning; while of his countrymen not 
 a few speak of him as an incorrigible dunce, as 
 well as a rebellious and headstrong reprobate. 
 The truth appears to be, that with a more than 
 ordinary share of quickness, Oliver tool' no 
 particular delight in the routine of his scholas- 
 tic studies, though he was ever foremost in the 
 performances of such exploits as required the 
 exercise of reckless daring or patient courage. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 9 
 
 There was not an orchard within seven miles 
 of the town which Tailed to receive from him 
 periodical visits; while the dove-cotes of the 
 neighbouring gentry were likewise laid under 
 contribution, as often as a marauding party 
 could be arranged. For these misdeeds, as 
 well as for other delinquencies, he received, 
 when detected, the most savage chastisement; 
 Dr. Beard's reputation standing very high, not 
 more on account of his great learning, than on 
 account of the severe discipline which he main- 
 tained among his scholars. Nevertheless, such 
 excessive harshness produced no good effect 
 upon Cromwell. Of a bold and obstinate 
 temper, he endured these mercibss floggings 
 without the utterance of a complaint, and re- 
 turned to his former habits, not only with in- 
 difference, but with a dogged, and, as it ap- 
 peared, a triumphant hardihood. 
 
 While a pupil at his school, two circum- 
 stances are related to have taken place, to one 
 of which after he rose to high estate, Crom- 
 well himself frequently reverted. 
 
 "On a certain night, as he lay awake in his 
 bed, he beheld, or imagined that he beheld, a 
 gigantie figure, which, drawing aside the cur- 
 tains, told him that he should become the 
 greatest person in the kingdom, but did not 
 employ the word king." 
 
 Cromwell mentioned the circumstance both 
 to his father and his uncle; the former of whom 
 caused Dr. Beard to reward the communica- 
 tion with a sound flogging, while the latter re- 
 buked his nephew for stating that "which it 
 w as too traitorous to relate. - " Nevertheless, 
 
10 THE- LIFE OF 
 
 the dream or vision adhered to Oliver's 
 memory, and was, as we have juat said, 
 often reverted to, after events had worked out 
 its exact accomplishment. 
 
 On another occasion, whether prior to the 
 occurrence of the vision or the reverse, au- 
 thorities are not agreed, a play called "Lingua, 
 or the Combat of the I ive Senses for Supe- 
 riority," was enacted in the school. In this 
 quitint but striking masque, of which the 
 author remains unknown, though the comedy 
 itself w;is printed in sixteen hundred and 
 seven, it fell to the lot of Cromwell to perform 
 the part of Tactus, a personification of the 
 sense of touch, who coming forth from his 
 tiring-room with a chaplet of flowers on his 
 head, stumbled over a crown and royal robe, 
 cast purposely in the way. The soliloquy in- 
 to which Tactus breaks forth is certainly very 
 striking : — 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 11 
 
 SOLILOQUY. 
 
 Tactus. thy sue. sine somewhat did protend. 
 
 Was ever man ao fortunate ,.s I 
 
 To break his shins at such a stumbling block? 
 
 Roses ami (lavs, pack hence ! this crown and robe, 
 
 My brows and body circles and invests. 
 
 How gallntly it fits me! sure the slave 
 
 Measured my head that wrought this coronet. 
 
 Thev lie, that say complexions cannot change; 
 
 Mv blood's ennobled, and I am transformed 
 
 Unto the sacred temper of a kins. 
 
 Methinks ( hear my noble parasites 
 
 Styling me Caesar or great Alexander, 
 
 Licking my feet, and wondering wlicicl got, 
 
 This precious ointment. 
 
 How my pace is mended, 
 
 How princely do I speak, how sharp I threaten: 
 
 Peasants. I'll curb your headstrong impudence, 
 
 Anil make you tremble when the lion roirs ; 
 
 Ye earth-bred worms ! — O for a looking-glass ! 
 
 Poets will write whole volumes of this chanee. 
 
 Where's my attendants? 
 
 Come hither, sirrah! quickly, 
 
 Or by the wings of Hermes, &c. ice. 
 
12 THE LIFE OF 
 
 We cannot wonder if, in an age remarkably 
 
 prone to superstition, this scene should have 
 been regarded hoth hy the friends and enemies 
 of the protector ;is affording a palpable prog- 
 nostication of his after fortunes. Had Crom- 
 well lived and died on his brewery, doubtless 
 the whole matter would have been forgotten : 
 but his ultimate rise to more than kingly power, 
 gave to an incident, in itself purely accidental, 
 an air of mysterious, we had almost said of 
 prophetic, import. 
 
 From the grammar school of his native town 
 Cromwell was removed to Sydney Sussex Col- 
 lege, Cambridge, where, on the 23d of April, 
 lb 16, he entered as a fellow commoner. There, 
 as at Huntingdon, he is said lo have led an ex- 
 ceedingly irregular life, applying himself at in- 
 tervals with great intensity to his studiers, but 
 much more frequently indulging in rude and 
 boisterous pastimes. At football, cricket, c»d- 
 gelling, and wrestling, few of his companions 
 cou'd compete with him; his manners, more- 
 over, assumed a rough, and, occasionally, a 
 boorish tone, till he became at last better 
 known by the nickname of Roysterer, than by 
 any other appellation. Yet were it unjust to- 
 wards the memory of one of the most extraor- 
 dinary men whom England has produced, did 
 we accuse him, at this stage in his career, of 
 more than the common follies of youdj. A 
 contemner of the excessive refinements of 
 polished life he unquestionably was, nor any 
 w.ivs averse to drink first, and afterwards to 
 tight; but we can discover no proof that his 
 conduct merited the load of obloquy which 
 
OLlVKR CROMWELL. IS 
 
 Dugdale has unsparingly heaped upon it. The 
 case is somewhat different as we proceed on- 
 wards in our narrative. 
 
 Cromwell had resided at Cambridge little 
 more than a year when his father died; an 
 event which produced an important change 
 both in his present circumstances and future 
 prospects. He was immediately removed from 
 the university, and, after a brief interval, sent 
 to London, where he became a member of one 
 of the inns of court, and professed to study the 
 law. It is a curious fact, that though common 
 tradition represents him to have kept, terms at 
 Lincoln's Inn, there is no entry of his name in 
 the books of that society. From this circum- 
 stance an attempt has recently [see Memoirs 
 of the Protector, by Oliver Cromwell, his de- 
 scendant,] been made to throw discredit upon 
 the stories which have hitherto obtained circu- 
 lation relative to his general conduct while in 
 the metropolis; but the weight of contemporary 
 evidence appears to be such as to overwhelm 
 all arguments depending upon analogy or ab- 
 stract reasoning. "The most probable solu- 
 tion of the difficulty," says the author of 
 Cromwell and his Times, "is, that he actually 
 became a student of law in the metropolis, but 
 was entered at some other inn of court;" to 
 which we may add, that the registers of the 
 legal societies have not always been kept with 
 the accuracy which now belongs to them. Be 
 this, however, as it may, we are assured by a 
 professed panegyrist, who wrote in the year 
 immediately succeeding the protector's death, 
 that "he came to Lincoln's Inn, where he as- 
 
14 THE LIFE OF 
 
 sociated himself with those of the best rank and 
 quality, and the most ingenious persons; for 
 though he was of a nature not averse to study 
 and contemplation, yet he seemed rather ad- 
 dicted to conversation and the reading of men 
 and their several tempers, than to a continual 
 poring upon authors." [Portraiture of his 
 Royal Highness Oliver.] There seems, there- 
 fore, no ground to doubt that he did actually 
 enroll himself among the members of one or 
 other of the law societies; while of his man- 
 ner of life during the period of his residence 
 there, we possess tolerably accurate informa- 
 tion. He is represented on all hands as learn- 
 ing nothing except "the follies and vices of the 
 town." Wood asserts explicitly, that "his 
 father dying whilst he was at Cambridge, he 
 was taken home and sent to Lincoln's Inn to 
 study the common law; but making nothing of 
 it, he was stnt for home by his mother, became 
 a debauchee, and a boisterous and rude fel- 
 low.'' In like manner, Noble, an impartial, if 
 not a friendly chronicler, records, that he not 
 only returned from the capital a libertine and 
 a rake, but that he supported he characters to 
 admiration in his native town; while sir Philip 
 Warwick states, that "the h* st years of his 
 manhood were spent in a dis olute course of 
 life, in good fellowship and gaming, which 
 afterwards he seemed very i ensible of, and 
 sorrowful for." But the assev rations of these 
 witnesses though perfectly cr dible in them- 
 selves, are not without a corro! orative author- 
 ity, of a still higher value. Tl e following let- 
 ter from Oliver himself, dated from Ely on the 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 15 
 
 13th of October, 1638, refers manifestly to this 
 period of his life, and fully justifies the weighti- 
 est charges which his biographers have brought 
 against him. 
 
 11 To my beloved Cousin, Mrs. St. John, alt 
 sir William\ Markham , his house, called 
 Oates, in Essex, present these. 
 
 " Dear cozen, I thankfully acknowledge 
 your love in your kind remembrance of mee 
 upon this opportunity^ Alas! you do too 
 highly prize my lines and my companie! I may 
 be ashamed to own your expressions, consider- 
 ing how unprofitably 1 am, and the meane im- 
 provement of my talent; yett, to honour my 
 God by declaringe what he hath done for my 
 soull, in this I am confident, and will be soe. 
 Truly then, this I finde,that he giveth springes 
 in a dry and barren wildernesse where no 
 water is. I live (you know) in Meshedra, 
 which they say signifies prolonginge ; in 
 Kedar, which signifies blacknesse; yet the 
 Lord forsaketh me not. Though he doth pro- 
 longe, yett he vvill (I trust) bringe me to his 
 tabernacle, a id his restinge place. My soull 
 is with the co lgregation of this first-borne; my 
 bodye rests in wpe; and if heere 1 may hon- 
 our my God ei 'ier by doeinge or by sufferinge, 
 I shall be more glad. Truelv noe poore creture 
 hath more caus ! to putt forthe himself in the 
 cause of his Go I than I. I have had plenteful 
 wadges beforehand, and I am sure 1 shall 
 never earne the least mite. The Lord accept 
 
16 THE LIFi: Or 
 
 me in his service, and give me to walk in the 
 light, and give us to walk in the light as hee is 
 in the light! Jle it is that enlightineth our 
 bl-acknesse, our darknesse. I dinnot say he 
 hydeth his face from me : he giveth mee to 
 see light in his light. One beame in a dark 
 place has exceeding much refresh:). ent in it : 
 blessed be his name for shining on so dark « 
 hart as mine. You know what my Manner 
 of life hathe been! O, I lived in, and loved 
 darkness, and hated the light. I teas a 
 ehiefe, the chief e of sinners. This is true; I 
 hated godlinesse, yet God had mercye on 
 mee. On the richnesse of his mercye! praise 
 him for mee; pray for me, that he who hath 
 begun a good work, would perfect it to the day 
 of Christ. Salute all my good friends of that 
 family whereof you are yett a member. I am 
 much bound unto them for their love : I bless 
 the Lord for them, and that my sonn, by their 
 procurement, is so well. Lett him have your 
 prayers, your councill; lett mee have them. 
 Salute your husband and sister from mee; hee 
 is not a man of his word; he promised to write 
 about Mr. Wrath, of Essinge, but as yen I re- 
 ceived no letters; put him in mimle to doe 
 what with conveniency may be done for the 
 poore cozen I did solicit him about. Once 
 more farewell; the Lord be with you, eoe 
 prayeth your trulye lovinge cozen, 
 
 "Olivkr Crowell." 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 17 
 
 We have inserted this characteristic letter, 
 as well as the statements of Wood, Noble, and 
 Warwick, without the smallest feeling of ran- 
 cour towards the subject of our present memoir, 
 on whose memory we desire to cast no other 
 reproach than truth may compel us to award. 
 That he was dissipated, during the period of 
 his sojourn in London, seems established be- 
 yond the possibility of contradiction; neverthe- 
 less, when the circumstances of his age and 
 peculiar temperament are duly considered, the 
 language of censure will scarcely degenerate 
 into that of absolute condemnation. Comwell, 
 a youth of decided genius and ardent disposi- 
 tion, is thrown, at the early age of eighteen, as 
 it were, loose upon the world : we cannot be 
 surprised to find that his very ardour led him 
 into practices, which, to the eyes of a less 
 gifted individual, might have held out no al- 
 I lurements. But the best apology which can, 
 I after all, be offered for him is, that ere he had 
 : attained to the years of legal discretion, his 
 | dissipated habits were wholly laid aside. His 
 mother, a pious and sensible woman, spoke to 
 him in the language of admonition; he received 
 her advice in good part, corrected the whole 
 line of his manners, and became as remarkable 
 for a strict attention to decorum as he had 
 formerly been the reverse. 
 
 The consequences of this reformation in his 
 manners were, first, a reconciliation with his 
 relatives, the Hampdens and Barringtons, from 
 whom his previous excesses had alienated him, 
 
 Iand next, his marriage, through their ini<?r- 
 2 
 
18 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ferencc, with Elizabeth the daughter of sir 
 James Bourchier, of Fitsed, in Es«ex. The 
 latter event, which took place in St. Giles's 
 church, Cripplegate, on the 22d of August, 
 1620, proved exceedingly conducive to his fu- 
 ture respectability. '1 he lady, though hoast- 
 ing but few personal attractions, possessed both 
 good sense and a fiir share of accomplish- 
 ments; and as she brought with her a consid- 
 erable addition to his patrimony, the union be- 
 gan under very favourable auspices. Nor 
 were the promises thus held out doomed to 
 end in disappointment. Throughout many 
 years, during which she presented him with 
 nine children, of whom five only survived their 
 father, Cromwell and his wife lived happily to- 
 gether; neither the cares of public life, nor fre- 
 quent and unavoidable separation, being per- 
 mitted on either side to loosen the tics of con- 
 jugal attachment. 
 
 it is impossible to ascertain with perfect ac- 
 curacy, at this distance of time, how Cromwell 
 »pent the interval between his marriage and 
 his first appearance in parliament in 1628 : 
 that he dwelt almost constantly in Huntingdon 
 seems to be generally agreed; and that he car- 
 ried on the business which his father had con- 
 ducted before him, is in the highest degree 
 probable. The latter fact, as it is supported 
 chiefly by the assertions of the satirical ballads 
 of the day, has indeed been called in question. 
 But without passing to discuss a point of very 
 little momont, however determined, we may 
 observe, that the author of the Panegyric^ 
 usually attributed to Milton, clearly sanction* 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 19 
 
 live statements of the hostile party. "Being 
 now arrived," says he, "to a mature and ripe 
 age, all which time he spent as a private per- 
 son, noted for nothing so much as the culture 
 of pure religion and an integrity of life, he was 
 grown rich at home, and had enlarged his 
 hopes, relying upon God and a great soul, in a 
 quiet bosom, for any the most exalted times." 
 "Omitting all present consideration "of the 
 rather remarkable concluding words, does not 
 the expression, 'grown rich at home,' seem to 
 allow the inference that it was by some trade 
 or profession his property had thus increased; 
 since to live without business, and at the same 
 time reputably to bring up a numerous family, 
 could hardly have conduced to its accumula- 
 tion." Such is the question put by Mr. Tho- 
 mas Cromwell, the ingenious author of the 
 Protector's Life and Times ; and it is one 
 which all reflecting persons will, we presume, 
 be disposed to answer in the atiirmative. There 
 is, however, another matter connected with 
 this stage in Cromwoll's career, on which we 
 find it not so easy to satisfy ourselves; we al- 
 lude to the grave accusation brought against 
 him both by Dugdale and Noble, that, "hav- 
 ing by his extravagance wasted his patrimony, 
 and being refused assistance by his uncle 
 Stewart, tie petitioned the king for a commis- 
 sion of lunacy, with the view of depriving the 
 accusant of his estate;" a petition which his 
 majesty neglected, because the assertions on 
 which Cromwell s claim was founded were not 
 borne out by proof. If this tale be really true, 
 then must all our belief in the sincerity r>f 
 
20 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Cromwell's reformation evaporate; if it be a 
 calumny, it is remarkably supported by very 
 plausible evidence. It may not be amiss to 
 place an abstract of the reasonings both of such 
 as deny, and such as credit the statement, in 
 juxtaposition. 
 
 The advocates for Cromwell contend, that 
 he bein<* the acknowledged heir at law of his 
 uncle, would scarcely incur the hazard of hiv- 
 ing his succession cut off, by venturing upon 
 an attempt at once so flagitious and so uncer- 
 tain in its issue. The same parties argue, that 
 the fact of his election to represent the borough 
 of Huntingdon in parliament, is of itself sulli- 
 cient to free him from so gross an accusation, 
 inasmuch as the people of that place would 
 hardly make choice for their representative of 
 a man branded with such a crime, and at the 
 same time destitute of all beyond personal in- 
 terest. But, above all, it is urged that the con- 
 duct of sir Thomas Stewart himself places the 
 falsehood of the charge in its clearest light : 
 that gentleman actually left to Oliver Crom- 
 well, at his decease, an estate in lands and 
 tithes valued at five hundred pounds a year; — 
 a bequest which no man is likely to have made 
 to a relative who had endeavoured to place 
 him, during life, under restraint. On the other 
 hind, it is asserted that the circumstance in 
 question was not onl\ well known, but uni- 
 versally admitted to be true by the protector's 
 contemporaries. It was recorded at the mo- 
 ment by •writers, whose means of arriving at 
 the merits of the case were unquestionably 
 more ample than those of any modem j yvt it 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 21 
 
 hns never, till very recently, been denied. 
 Nor is the following extract from Hncket'sLife 
 of Archbishop Williams without weight in the 
 mutter : — 
 
 "At n meeting of the privy council in 1646, 
 the archbishop, spe.iking to the king of Crom- 
 well, s.i id, 'J knew him at Buckden, but never 
 knew his religion, being a common spokesman 
 for sectaries, and maintaining their part wilh 
 stubbornness. He never discoursed as if he 
 w 7 ere pleased with your majesty and your offi- 
 cers; and, indeed, he loves rone that are more 
 than his equals, lour majesty did h,m lut 
 justice in refusing his petition against sir 
 Thcwas Stewart, oj the Isle of Ely; but 
 he takes them all for his enemies that would 
 not let him undo his best friends; and, above 
 all that live, I think him the most mindful of 
 an injury.' " 
 
 We are not called upon to decide between 
 the counterbalancing weight of testimony on 
 the one hand, and argument on the other; but 
 if the latter extract be genuine, we confess that 
 we cannot see how its force is either to be 
 overborne or explained away. 
 
 There is considerable difficulty in ascertain- 
 ing the precise date of Cromwell's adoption of 
 the tenets peculiar to the puritans, and his 
 formal adhesion to the party which he eventu- 
 ally moulded to his own purposes. Generally 
 speaking, the sudden convert from vice and 
 folly runs, if his ten per be sanguine, into an 
 opposite extreme; but such appears not to have 
 been the case w ith Cromwell. Though con- 
 nected by marriage with a dissenting family, 
 
22 THL LIFE OF 
 
 and brought unavoidably into frequent com- 
 munication with non-conformist minister-:, be 
 professed during some years lo adhere rigidly 
 to the faith of his fathers; attending divine ser- 
 vice at the parish church, and contracting an 
 intimacy with more than one of the most cele- 
 brated among the orthordox elergr. Never- 
 theless there are circumstances on record 
 which would authorise the belief, that even 
 then he entertained at least no hostility to- 
 wards the sectarians. It was during this in- 
 terval that his intercourse with archbishop 
 Williams, then bishop of Lincoln, began; and 
 that prelate's speech to the king conveys more 
 than an insinuation, that the cause of the non- 
 conformists found in Cromwell a henrty as well 
 as a frequent advocate. Still, as we have al- 
 ready said, Cromwell was himself no puritan; 
 nor is it probable that he as yet entertained any 
 idea of passing over to the ranks of the disaf- 
 fected either in church or state. 
 
 In the year 1628, Cromwell, for tire first 
 time, took his seat in the great council of the 
 nation, as one of the members for the borough 
 of Huntingdon. It was the third parliament 
 which the pecuniary necessities of Charles had 
 compelled him to summon, and it met under 
 the influence of strong irritation, produced not 
 more by the numerous acts of arbitrary power 
 which had been exercised during the dissolu- 
 tion, than by the injudicious attempts of the 
 clergy and crown lawyers to support, both 
 from the pulpit and at the bar, the doctrine of 
 passive obedience The first measure of the 
 new house of commons which to propose the 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 28 
 
 famous petition of rights, which passed by a 
 prodigious majority, and was presented for the 
 royal signature. Charles hesitated; but the 
 absolute exhaustion of his exchequer, and the 
 steady refusal of the commons to vote any sup- 
 ply so long as this grand charter of public lib- 
 erty remained unratified, finally wrung from 
 him a reluctant consent. Ample subsidies 
 were now furnished, yet the boon was accom- 
 panied by a fresh attack upon the prerogative, 
 10 a matter concerning which Charles had 
 shown himself to be exceedingly jealous. 
 The right of the sovereign to collect inde- 
 pendently of his parliament, duties on wines 
 and merchandise imported, under the deno- 
 mination of tonnage and poundage, was open- 
 ly called in question; and the discussion as- 
 sumed by degrees a tone so unfavourable, that 
 Charles hastily prorogued the session. The 
 houses were not permitted to resume their 
 sittings till after an interval of six months. 
 Nevertheless, this interruption of public busi- 
 ness, so far from aliasing, seemed only to in- 
 crease, the general discontent of the people. 
 When parliament again assembled, the ques- 
 tion of tonnage and poundage was at once re- 
 sumed; then followed a resolution, that a strict 
 inquiry ought to be made into the state of re- 
 ligion throughout the country, and, last of all, 
 the formation of committees of religion, for the 
 avowed purpose of purifying of its popish pro- 
 pensities the established church. We have no 
 authority for asserting that in the debate on the 
 tonnage and poundage act, Cromwell took any 
 leading part. In the committees of religion he 
 
24 THE LIFE OF 
 
 was, however, extremely forward, denounc- 
 ing Neal, bishop of Winchester, as one who 
 "gave his countenance to persons who preach- 
 ed flat popery," and particularly specifying the 
 case of Dr. Manwaring, who, thouirh declared 
 by the last parliament incapable of holding any 
 ecclesiastical preferment, had, by the interest 
 of that prelate, been recently preferred to a 
 valuable living. The observation wifh which 
 Cromwell summed up this charge gives the 
 first authentic evidence of his growing hostility 
 to the constituted order of things. "If," said 
 he, "these are the steps to church preferment, 
 what are we to expect ?" It needed but this 
 interference with what he regarded at his own 
 especial province, to fill up the measure of 
 Charles's disgust and indignation. He sud- 
 denly dissolved the parliament; and through- 
 out the extended space of not less than twelve 
 years, endeavoured to govern by the exer- 
 cise of an unfettered, and often arbitrary, pre- 
 rogative. 
 
 With the great political events which occur- 
 red during this season of anarchy and misrule, 
 we have, on the present occasion, very little 
 concern. It is sufficient for our purpose to 
 state, that the unconstitutional arrest of several 
 leading members of the opposition, as well as 
 a renewal on the king's part of all those prac- 
 tices which had just been declared by the au- 
 thority of the three states to be illegal, alienat- 
 ed from him and his advisers more and more 
 the great bulk of the community. Among 
 others, Cromwell retired to Huntingdon a bit- 
 ter, if not an avowed, enemy to regal authori- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 25 
 
 ty; as well as a professed favourer of noncon- 
 formists and schismatics, whom he openly ad- 
 mitted into his family, and whose conventicles 
 he regularly frequented. It is true, that in the 
 year 1630, he permitted himself to be asso- 
 ciated with his old schoolmaster. Dr. Beard, 
 in a fresh commission of the peace for the 
 borough; yet it is beyond dispute, that from 
 the dissolution of parliament in 1629, he was, 
 in all his habits, conversation, and ideas, an 
 altered man. Whether he began already to 
 anticipate those scenes of violence and con- 
 fusion through which he was destined to make 
 his way to more than royal eminence, we can- 
 not take it upon us to determine; but that he 
 was prepared for almost any issue, and ready 
 to play his part in any drama, admits not, we 
 conceive, of the shadow of a doubt. 
 
 Brief as his senatorial career had been, it 
 probably entailed upon Cromwell heavy ex- 
 penses, to which his hospitable reception of a 
 crowd of needy nonconformists added in no 
 inconsiderable degree. His affairs began 
 gradually to suffer embarrassment, while an 
 unaccountable impatience of the pre-eminence 
 in civic matters enjoyed by Dr. Beard, pro- 
 duced in him a strong distaste to his native 
 town. The consequence was, that in 1631, 
 he sold all the land and tithes belonging to his 
 family, and withdiew, with his mother, wife, 
 and children, to a farm near St. hves, which 
 he had hired and stocked out of the residue of 
 his patrimony. Here he spent several years, 
 taking an active part in all parochial business, 
 but without adding aught to his personal re- 
 
26 THE LIFE OF 
 
 sources, which, on the contrary, fell oft' from 
 season to season; though whether the litter 
 result arose, as Noble and Olivers have assert- 
 ed, from an extravagant attention to family ex- 
 ercises of devotion, we take it not upon us to 
 decide. We must, however, profess our con- 
 viction, that Oliver Cromwell possessed too 
 much, not of worldly wisdom oulv, hut of 
 sound judgement, to pursue the line of conduct 
 which has heen attributed to him. That he 
 restored, at this season, certain sums of money 
 to individuals which he had won from them at 
 play many years hefore, we shall not pretend 
 to deny. Tnere is weighty evidence in favour 
 of the fact; and the fact, if correctly stated, 
 rebounds to Cromwell's honour. But that he, 
 one of the most shrewd and keen-sighted of 
 human beings, should detain his farm-srrvarits 
 from their labour in the fields, that they might 
 listen to his expositions of the scripture, or ex- 
 plain each man his own experiences, we find 
 it very difficult to credit. Cromwell was un- 
 questionably tinctured with enthusiasm, both 
 then and at other seasons; nevertheless, Crom- 
 well's enthusiasm can never be said to have 
 darkened his preeeption, or to have stood in 
 the way of his sedulous prosecution of his own 
 interests. 
 
 We have said that, immediately after the 
 dissolution of parliament in 1631, Cromwell 
 began to connect himself undisguisedly with 
 the nonconformist or puritanical party; it is, 
 however, necessary to add that, during his so- 
 journ at St. Ives, a singular degree of incon- 
 sistency took place in his behaviour to this 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 27 
 
 respect. Tims we find, that at the very mo- 
 ment when he is represented as encouraging 
 sectarians of all kinds, he wrote strongly to 
 his friend, Mr. Slorie, in favour of one Dr. 
 Willis, a pious, and, as it would appear, high- 
 ly orthodox clergyman of the established 
 church. The letter is in itself so curious, 
 and exhibits the religious opinions of the wri- 
 ter in so favourable a point of view, that we 
 cannot deny to the reader the gratification of 
 perusing it. 
 
 "Mr. Storie, — 
 
 Among the catalogue of those good 
 workes which your fellowe cityeenes and our 
 countriemen have doun, this will not be reck- 
 oned for the least, that they have provided for 
 the feedinge of soules; buildinge of hospittals 
 provides for mens bodyes; to build material 
 temples is judged a work of pietye; but they 
 that, procure spirituall food, they that build up 
 sgirituall temples, they are the mene trulye 
 charitable, trulye pious. Sueh a work was 
 this your erectinge the lecture in our cuntrie, 
 in the which you placed Dr. Willis, a man of 
 goodnesse and industrie, and ability to do good 
 every way, not stint of any I know in Eng- 
 land; and 1 am persuaded that sithence his ar- 
 rivinge the Lord by him hath wrought much 
 good amongst us. It only remains now, that 
 he whoe first moved you to this, put you for- 
 ward to the continuance thereof; it was the 
 Lord, and therefore to him lift we up our hearts 
 that he would perfect itt. And surely, Mr. 
 Storie, it were a pitious thinge to see a lecture 
 
28 THE LIFE OF 
 
 fall in the hands of soe manie able and godly 
 men, as \ ;:ni perswaded the founders of this 
 are, in tbeise tinea \\ hi rein we see they are 
 suppressed w iih too much haste arid violence 
 by the enemies of Cod his truth : far be it 
 that so much guilt should sticke to \our hands, 
 who live in a citye so renowed for the clear 
 shininge light of the gospel). You know, Mr. 
 Storie, that to withdraw the paye is to lett fall 
 the lecture, for whoe goeth a warfare on his 
 own cost ? I beseech you, therefore, in the 
 bowells of Jesus Christ, put it forwaid, and I 
 let the good man have his pa) e. The soules 
 of Cod his children will bless you for it, and 
 soe will I; and ever rest your lovinge servant 
 in the Lord, 
 
 "Oliver Cromwell.." 
 
 This letter addressed to Mr. Storie, at the 
 sign of the Log, in the Royal Exchange, Lon- 
 don, bore date the 11th January, 1635. In 
 the year following, the writers uncle, sir Tho- 
 mas Stewart, died and he himself became pos- 
 sessed, as was stated a few pages ago, of an 
 estate, chiefly in cop} hold and titheries, of 
 the annual value of five hundred pounds. He 
 resigned his farm in mediately ; and ren oving 
 into the isle of Fly, received numerous favours 
 at the hands of the chapter, under whom some 
 of his best leases were held : nevertheless, he 
 soon became discontented with his situation, 
 and meditated another and a still greater 
 change in his mode of life. Either in pelled 
 by disappointed ambition, or disgusted with 
 the tyranny which be affected to behold in all 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 29 
 
 matters whether of church or state, he resolv- 
 ed to abandon his native country for ever, and 
 to try his fortune, in company with his cousin, 
 Hampden, as a colonist in lord Warwick's set- 
 tlement of New England, in North America. 
 With this view he once more converted the 
 whole of his property into money, and had ac- 
 tually embarked, Hampden taking a passage in 
 the same vessel, when an order of council, sud- 
 denly issued, compelled them both to abandon 
 the enterprise. How often and how deeply 
 the king found cause to repent of this arbi- 
 trary step, every reader of history must be 
 aware. 
 
 With feelings more and more ruffled, and 
 prejudices more and more inflamed, Cromwell 
 retired to Ely, where he continued to brood 
 over his own and his country's wrongs, till all 
 his ideas became confounded in a sense of im- 
 placable hatred towards the existing govern- 
 ment. To such an extent indeed was this 
 humour carried, that his very reason seems to 
 have become occasionally unsettled; at least 
 Dr. Simcott assures us, that "his patient was a 
 most splenetic man, and had fancies about the 
 cross which stood in the town, and that ha had 
 been called up to him at midnight., and such 
 unseasonable hours, very many times, on a 
 strong fanCy which made him believe he was 
 then dying." But there occurred at this junc- 
 ture an event, which, calling him again into 
 the turmoil of public life, at once hindered a 
 a mind naturally active from preying upon it- 
 self, and enabled him to udd largely to his stock 
 
30 THE LIFE OF 
 
 of popularity. At the request of the enrl of 
 Bedford and other extensive landed proprietors, 
 a grant of money was made by the king in or- 
 der to facilitate the draining of the fens in the 
 counties of Lincoln, Cambridge, Northampton, 
 and Huntingdon, on condition that a certain 
 portion of the level ttius recovered should be 
 awarded to the crown, as a remuneration lor 
 the expenses incurred. With this arrangement 
 the common people in general expressed them- 
 selves highly displeased, inasmuch as it went 
 to deprive then of the right of commonage, 
 which, as often as a drought prevailed, they 
 had hitherto enjoyed over large tracts of the 
 marsh. Cromwell was not slow in espousing 
 the cause of the poor against the rich : he stood 
 forward boldly as the people's friend, and ex- 
 ercised so much of talent and ingenuity in that 
 character, that, in the face both of court influ- 
 ence and the avowed wishes of the aristocracy, 
 he gained his point. The country suffered a 
 serious loss by the delay of measures which 
 have since been pursued to the best effect ; 
 but Cromwell became a gainer to a prodigious 
 amount, by increasing his own influence in 
 the neighbourhood, and attracting toward* him- 
 self the eyes of other gifted and aspiring 
 patriots. 
 
 The above event took place in 1039. In the 
 year following, Charles was again reduced to 
 the necessity of calling together a parliament; 
 ami Cromwell, partly through the interference 
 of Hampden, partly through the admiration ex- 
 cited by his late successful contest with the 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 31 
 
 higher powers, was chosen to represent the city 
 of Cambridge. [A different account is given of 
 this election by Heath, hut his story is too absurd 
 to requiro notice.] 
 
 Of liis pecuniary circumstances at this time 
 it is not very easy to speak in decided terms; 
 yet there are facts on record, which lead us to 
 believe that the statements of those who charge 
 him with absolute bankruptcy, are, to use the 
 mildest expression, greatly overcharged. It is 
 asserted by the author of the "Mystery of the 
 good old Cause," that there were letters of 
 Cromwell to be seen in the hands of a person 
 of quality, where he mentions his whole estate 
 to amount to about one thousand and three hun- 
 dred pounds, which he intended to lay out up- 
 on a purchase of drained fen lands. We know 
 likewise, that at the very commencement of 
 the troubles he contributed five hundred pounds 
 towards raising a force for the suppression of 
 the Irish rebellion; while from his own private 
 purse he laid out one hundred pounds in the 
 hire of wagons, that the earl of Manchester 
 might the more speedily take the field against 
 his sovereign. Nevertheless, the descriptions 
 of his attire and personal appearance in general, 
 which we find in the p.iges of contemporary 
 writers, seem to apply only to an individual in 
 the hist stage of poverty. 
 
 "The fir^t ti;ne that ever I took notice of 
 him," says sir I'hiiip Warwick, "was in the 
 very beginning of the parliament held in No- 
 vember, 1640, when I vainly thought myself a 
 r.ouriiy young gentleman, for we courtiers 
 
* 2 THE LIFE OF 
 
 valued ourselves much upon 0'ir good clothes. 
 I came one morning into the house well clad, 
 and perceived a gentleman speaking, whom I 
 knew not, very ordinarily apparelled, for it 
 was a plain cloth suit, which seemed to have 
 been made by an ill country tailor; his linen 
 was plain, and not very clean; and I remem- 
 ber a speck or two of blood upon his little 
 band, which was not much larger than his col- 
 lar; his hat was without a hatband; his stature 
 was of a good size; his sword stuck close to 
 his side; his countenance swollen and reddish; 
 his voice sharp and untunable; and his elo- 
 quence full of fervor; for the subject matter 
 would not bear much of reason, it being in be- 
 half of a servant of Mr. Brynn's, who had dis- 
 persed libels against the queen for her danc- 
 ing, and such like innocent and courtly sports; 
 and he aggravated the imprisonment of this 
 man by the council-table unto that height, that 
 one would have believed the very government 
 itself had been in great danger by it. 1 sin- 
 cerely profess it lessened very much my reve- 
 rence unto that great council, for he was very 
 much hearkened unto. And yet I lived to see 
 this very gentleman, whom, out of no i'.l will to 
 him, I thus describe, by multiplied good suc- 
 cesses, and by real but usurped power, — hav- 
 ing had a better tailor, and more converse 
 among good company — in my own eye, when 
 I was for six weeks together a prisoner in his 
 Serjeant's hands, and daily waiting at White- 
 hall, appear of a great and majestic presence 
 and comely deportment." 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 83 
 
 In like manner, Dr. South, an authority 
 
 much less to be trusted, asks, "Who that be- 
 he'd such a bankrupt beggarly fellow as Crom- 
 well first enter the parliament house, with a 
 threadbare torn cloak and a greasy hat, and 
 perhaps neither of them paid lor, could have 
 inspected that in the course of so fevvyears lie 
 should by the murder of one king and the 
 banishment of another, ascend the throne, and 
 be invested in the royal robes, and want no- 
 thing of the state of a king but the changing of 
 !;is hat into a crown." 
 
 This last torrent of abuse weighs \ ery little 
 with us, inasmuch as it flowed from the pen of 
 one who had once b^en to the protector as ser- 
 vile as he became after the restoration vindic- 
 tive against his memory, yet even Warwick's 
 account must be taken as a portrait of a man 
 who either could not afford to dress like others 
 in his station, or affected singularity even in 
 his personal appearance. The probability is, 
 that the latter conjecture is the most true; for 
 it is beyond dispute, that no man knew better 
 than Oliver Cromwell how to train his sails to 
 the merest brcuth of public favour. 
 
 \\\> inu>t refer our readers to other and more 
 appropriate sources for information, as to the 
 train of deplorable occurrences which imposed 
 upon Charles the stern necessity of meeting the 
 representatives of his people on the present oc- 
 casion. 
 
 A series of political blunders, originating 
 chiefly in the mistaken zeal of archbishop Loud, 
 having involved him in a quarrel with the pres- 
 3 
 
34 THE LIFE OF 
 
 byterians of Scotland, lie found himself unex- 
 peotly called upon to raise arid equip an atfmy, 
 with 'which he marctoed as Fat as York to op- 
 pose ;:n inroad of thut body. Here, trusting 
 litile to the fidelity of his own officers, In- en- 
 tered into ;i convention with the rebels; but he 
 kid scarcely disbanded his troops ere the 
 Scots again appeared in arms, and again 
 threatened to cany five and sword in the 
 heart of England. Charles was not ignorant 
 that in these daring proceedings the rebels were 
 secretly encouraged by the leaders of the popu- 
 lar party at home : nevertheless, his r< 
 were exhausted; no more loans could In: rAis- 
 ed; and the summoning of a parliament i 
 unavoidable. It met in April, 1640, and en- 
 tered at once upon the discussion of points 
 the most remote from those which the king 
 had desired both houses to consider. Charles 
 could not brook the tone of arrogance and 
 disrespect in which the commons thought fit to 
 legislate; and hence, on the twenty-third day 
 after the members took the oaths, and before a 
 single bill was passed, or a subsidy voted, this 
 parliament underwent, the fate of all its prede- 
 cessors and was dissolved. 
 
 Thus deserted by the constitutional guardians 
 of the public purse, at a moment when the 
 peace of the relm was threatened by a power- 
 ful enemy, Charles again had recourse to 
 measures, all of them calculated to widen the 
 breach which unfortunately existed between 
 him and his subjects. After sei/.:n<: on forty 
 thousand pounds worth of bullion belonging to 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. S§ 
 
 certain Spanish merchants, which had been 
 deposited for safety in the Mint, Charles threw 
 himself on the benevolence of the higher clas- 
 ses, from whom, in the form of loans, some of 
 them not very cheerfully afforded, he obtained 
 in all about three hundred thousand pounds. 
 With this sum he enrolled a second arm}', part 
 of which he sent forward to harass the advance 
 of the Scots, while he himself made prepara- 
 tions to follow with the remainder so soon as 
 the state of their equipment would permit. It 
 is well known that the king's advanced corps 
 received a severe check near New Castle. 
 The consequence was, that when he arrived 
 at York, be again found it more convenient to 
 treat than to fight; and having summoned a 
 council of peers to Ins aid, an assembly not 
 witnessed in England since the feudal times, he 
 consulted with them as to the propriety of con- 
 senting to a cessation of arms. Even this step, 
 though humiliating to his dignity as a mon- 
 arch, served in no respect to ameliorate the 
 condition of Charles. The Scots insisted thai 
 a new parliament should be summoned, for the 
 redress of the many wrongs of which their 
 English brethren complained ; and the king, 
 hopeless of making head against an entire na- 
 tion, was forced to give way. He did sum- 
 mon a parliament for the lid of November en- 
 suing; a truce was immediately granted; and 
 he returned to London, that he might meet the 
 last assembly which was ever in that place to 
 gratify him with the poor tribute of verbal al- 
 legiance. 
 
86 THE LIFE OF 
 
 In this, the memorable Long Parliament, 
 Oliver Cromwell again took liis seat, being a 
 second time returned as one of the representa- 
 tives for the city of Cambridge. Whatever liis 
 former views and wishes may hive been, there 
 is no doubt that he now looked forward to a 
 mighty crisis, and that he hat! resolved to throw 
 the whole weight of his powerful influence into 
 the scale of me republican fiction. That lie 
 ventured already to mark out the precise course 
 of liis own personal elevation, we are not pre- 
 pared to affirm. As yet no human judgment 
 could determine how the elements of contusion 
 would array themselves; though it needed but 
 a slender stock of foresight to perceive that the 
 dissolution of society w.is at hand. It i» not, 
 therefore, probable that even Cromwell would 
 presume to chalk out for himself any definite 
 line of conduct, to which it would be necessary 
 under all circumstances to adhere. But though 
 the case might be, and doubtless was so, the 
 whole tenor of his after life, not less than our 
 acquaintance with the singularity of his tem- 
 perament, — cautious though enthusiastic, — 
 calculating though superstitious, — ambitious to 
 the greatest degree, yet combining with high 
 aspirations the most perfect self-command, — 
 these circumstances united compel us to be- 
 lieve, that personal aggrandisement was with 
 him, from the very commencement of the 
 present session, the grand actuating principle 
 both of speech and action. Hence the fervent 
 zeal with which he supported every measure of 
 which the tendency was to hinder all approach 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 37 
 
 towards a reconciliation between the king and 
 the parliament. When his majesty applied for 
 the means of discharging the arrears due to his 
 own army, Cromwell was among the first to 
 suggest that a grant he made out of which both 
 the loyal and the rebel forces be paid. lie 
 was particularly active in promoting petitions 
 against the bishops, on the ground of severe 
 proceedings in the ecclesiastical courts. In 
 pressing for the trial and condemnation of Straf- 
 ford, he yielded to none in violence; and he 
 took a prominent part in preparing and recom- 
 mending to the house, that most arrogant of 
 all deeds, the Remonstrance. In a word, 
 he acted on every occasion in full conformity 
 with the sentiment which he himself once 
 expressed to lord Falkland and J\lr. War- 
 wick; "I can tell," said he, "what I would 
 not have ; bul i cannot tell what I would 
 have. * ; 
 
 As it is not our purpose to write a connected 
 history of the grand rebellion, we abstain from 
 giving even a sketch of the proximate causes 
 which led to a final rupture between the king 
 and the commons. Enough is done when we 
 state that Charles, passing at once from an ex- 
 cess of obstinacy to a culpable weakness, 
 abandoned one by one, all the advantages 
 which a display of ordinary firmness would 
 have given him. rn yielding to the clamour 
 against Strafford, he virtually signed away the 
 independence of his crown; while his ratifica- 
 tion of that act which rendered the parliament 
 indissoluble, except by a vote of the two 
 
38 THE LIFE OF' 
 
 houses, laid hi h prostrate at the feet of his 
 enemies. Last of all came the demand, that 
 he should resign to paflia nent all control over 
 tha fleet, the castles, ; 'nd the army. Charles 
 would not consent to this : "Should ! grant 
 their demands," said he, when the propositions 
 were submitted to hi n, "I may be waited on 
 bareheaded; I may have my huid kissed; the 
 the title of majesty may be continued to me, 
 and 'the king's authority, signified by both 
 houses,' may still be the stvle of your com- 
 mands ; 1 may have swords and mac 9 car- 
 ried before me, and please myself with the 
 sight of a crown and sceptre (though even these 
 twigs would not long flourish, when the stock 
 upon which they greW was dead ;) but as 
 to true and real power, 1 should remain but 
 the outside, hut the picture, but the sign of a 
 king!" 
 
 While things were in this state, and the king, 
 removing from London to York, appeared, as 
 well as the parliament, to pause upon the brink 
 of civil war, Cromwell, who had long foreseen 
 in what issue matters must terminate, bo dy 
 put an end to hesitation by precipitating hostili- 
 ties. At his own personal hazard and expense 
 be had already sent down to the Country a sup- 
 ply of arms |or the equip eer.t of a troop of 
 cavalry, which he had secretly raised among 
 the more enthusiastic followers of the noncon- 
 formists. He now. in the beginning of 1642, 
 white as yet the royal standard had not been 
 hoisted, put himself openly at their head, 
 was this all. Marching suddenly upon the 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 89 
 
 castle of Cambridge, ho made himself master 
 of the place, and of the magazine contained 
 within its walls, while he daringly intercepted 
 a quantity of plate, which the heads of the uni- 
 versity were preparing to send northward for 
 the use of the king. Thus may Cromwell be 
 said to have brought on that desperate struggle 
 which, during so many years, fattened the soil 
 of England witli the best blood of her sons; for 
 though the events which followed would Have 
 doubtless taken place had no such movements 
 been made, it is beyond dispute that these en- 
 terprises, in themselves neither important nor 
 hazardous, hurried forward, in a very palpable 
 degree, the mighty catastrophe. 
 
 Though there was still an apparent re- 
 luctance on both sides to make the final ap- 
 peal to the sword, the king on the one hand, 
 and the parliament on the other, began, so 
 soon as Cromwell's proceedings obtained pub- 
 licity, to assume an attitude of defiance. — 
 Charles, without assigning any . specific reason 
 for the act, issued an order of array, which 
 was conveyed to the sheriffs of the se\eral 
 counties, and, in part, at least, carried into ef- 
 fect. The parliament, again, passed an act, 
 by which it was declared high treason to take 
 up anus, except by virtue of a warrant signed 
 by the speaker.. This was followed by a com- 
 mission authorising the earl of Essex and others 
 to raise men for the service of the state; and 
 hence almost every town, village, and hamlet 
 thrujUghoul Eugland, exhibited^ the melancholy 
 spectacle of a place of military muster. Crorn- 
 
40 THE LI IE OF 
 
 well did not wait for any definite instructions 
 touching the mode of procedure necessary in 
 such a case. With the mdiiference to respon- 
 sibility which is not often acquired, except by 
 a lengthened exercise of delegated power, he 
 moved rapidly into Hertfordshire, where he 
 seized the high sheriff when in the act of read- 
 ing a proclamation in which lord Essex, with 
 his abettors and adherents, were pronounced 
 traitors. lie then passed into Suffolk, where 
 the friends of the king were exerting them- 
 selves to enroll troops for the service of their 
 master; and made prisoners, at Lowestoffe, of 
 sir Thomas Barber, sir John Peters, and 
 twenty other gentlemen of distinction. His 
 activity and zeal were not slow in attracting 
 the notice of the parliament. A colonel's 
 commission was granted to him, and, besides 
 being authorised to increase his troop to a 
 regiment of horse, he was joined with lord 
 Manchester in the chief command of the six 
 associated counties, — Essex, Hertford, Nor- 
 folk, Suffolk, Cambridge, and Huntingdon. 
 
 While such was the state of affairs in the 
 southern countries, those of the north, unaucd 
 by the presence of a parliamentary force, de- 
 clared generally for the king. The nobility 
 and gentry had indeed, on the first arrival 
 Among them, formed themselves into a body- 
 guard for the defence of his person; and when, 
 on the 22d of August, the rnyal standard was 
 raised, [poor Charles was doomed to he the 
 subject of many evil omens. In addition to the 
 beating which he received in childhood from 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 41 
 
 Cromwell, the Virgilian lots declared both 
 against him and lord Falkland in Oxford; and, 
 on the present occasion, a violent gust of wind 
 overturned the standard almost as soon as it 
 had been raised,] multitudes of the lower or- 
 ders, of the yeomen and the tenantry, gather- 
 ed round it. There was, however, a sad de- 
 ficiency of arms and ammunition, among these 
 hardy and high-spirited levies. The king hav- 
 ing failed in an attempt to surprise Hull, was 
 forced to depend on such supplies as the queen 
 could from time to time transmit, in the face of 
 a hostile fleet, from Holland; and hence, when 
 he began his march southward, it was with an 
 army numerically feeble, in consequence of the 
 absence of means with which to equip a 
 stronger. Nevertheless he pushed forward to 
 Nottingham, confident in the justice of his cause, 
 where an attempt was again made to obviate 
 the necessity of bloodshed by negotiation. It 
 failed, as might have been anticipated; upon 
 which the royalists directing this march to the 
 westward, so as to skirt the border? of Wales, 
 arrived, towards the middle of October, at 
 Shrewsbury. 
 
 ^o e-irly as the beginning of August the par- 
 liament had thrown aside the mask, by direct- 
 ing sir William Waller to invest Portsmouth, 
 of which colonel Coring, an officer friendly to 
 the royal cause, held the command. It was 
 tin- darin* act of rebellion, indeed, which de- 
 cided Charles as to the absolute necessity of 
 unfurling the royal standard; and he now took 
 the field with the hope, rather than the expec- 
 
42 THE LIFE OF 
 
 tation, that the assailants might be diverted 
 from their purpo.se. liut the delay to widen 
 he unfortunately consented at Nottingham, 
 proved fatal to that design. Portsmouth, indif- 
 ferently provided for, and defended by n garri- 
 son less trustworthy than their chief*, submitted 
 after a short siege, the men passing over to 
 the ranks of the republicans, while Goring with 
 difficulty escaped to Holland. In the Iman 
 time Essex, calling in his detached corps, 
 marched upon .Northampton, where, with an 
 armv of fifteen thousand men, he stood ready 
 to dispute with his sovereign the great road to 
 the capital. Had he pushed forward at once to 
 Nottingham, it is in the highest degree probable 
 that an end would have been put to the civij 
 war; but this he neglected to do. 'I he conse- 
 quence was, that tiie king being enabled to exe- 
 cute an oblique movement, not only turned his 
 enem) "s position, hut gathered, strength at every 
 step, tid, on his arrival at Shrewsbury, his num- 
 bers were swelled to the full amount of 10,000 
 men. 
 
 Alarmed for his own communications, and 
 jealous of the safety of London, Essex broke 
 up from Northampton, and marching in a 
 direction parallel with the royal army, took up 
 a new line at Worcester. Here fie determined 
 to await the approach of Charles; |, u t the lat- 
 ter aware of the superior strength of the enemy, 
 ami anxious to spire the effusion of blood, 
 manoeuvred to shun the encounter. Willi this 
 vie v h • moved rapidly along the least fre- 
 quented of the by-roads, and masked the oper- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 43 
 
 ation so well, that lie had actually passed Essex, 
 ere that officer was aware that his adversary 
 hail quitted Shrewsbury. 
 
 A rapid pursuit was, however, instantly be- 
 gun; and on the evening of the 22d of Octo- 
 ber, after a sharp skirmish, in which a body of 
 the King's hor-e under prince Rupert over- 
 threw the advanced cavalry of the republicans, 
 the latter entered the village ojf Kenton, just as 
 the royalists were halted for the night at Edge- 
 coat. As these places were not more than 
 three. miles apart, it was pronounced, in a coun- 
 cil of war which Charles promptlv summoned, 
 both impracticable and disgraceful any longer 
 to shun an engagement. The King, therefore, 
 as soon as daylight returned, drew up his army 
 along a range of heights called Edgehill, where, 
 with his infantry in the centre, and his cav- 
 alry covering each flank, he determined, by 
 the advice of lord Lindsey to receive the at- 
 tack. 
 
 In the battle of Edgehill, which, as our 
 readers cannot he ignorant, endid without 
 awarding a decisive victory to either party, 
 Oliver Cromwell took no share. According 
 to some accounts his absence from the field was 
 inevitable, and proved a source of deep morti- 
 fication to himself; according to others- he pur- 
 posely kept aloof, from motives either of per- 
 sonal fear or political jealousy. 
 
 •' lie, with his troop of horse," says lord 
 Holies, " came not in ; Impudently and ridicu- 
 lously affirii in<:, the da\ after, that he had 
 been all that day seeking the army and place 
 
41 THE LIFE OF 
 
 of fight, thought \\U quartern were but at a 
 village near hand, whence he could not find 
 his way, nor be directed by his ear, whef 
 the ordnance was heard, as I have been 
 credibly informed, twenty or thirty miles 
 off." 
 
 How for this statement may be credited, 
 coming as it (Joes from an avowed enemy, we 
 are not called upon to decide; but if the fu- 
 ture protector did absent himself from the bat- 
 tle, when he might have dune otherwise, it 
 were worse than childish to attribute the cir- 
 cumstance to personal fear. It may be, how- 
 ever, that here, as well as elsewhere, Crom- 
 well permitted affairs to take their conrse, be- 
 cause he saw that the whole merit of a victory 
 which it rested wi.h him to secure, would be 
 awarded to another; and if so, then is his con- 
 duct strictly in agreement with that deep and 
 resolute selfishness, for which we have already 
 given, and shall again find ample cause to give, 
 him credit. 
 
 ■While Essex retreated upon Coventry, the 
 king, after reducing Banbury, in which there 
 was a garrison of one thousand men, pressed 
 forward upon Oxford. Here efforts were again 
 made to amuse and perplex him with proposals 
 to treat. But though, still eager for peace, and 
 ready to made large sacrifices for the purpose 
 of securing it, Charles did not interrupt his pro- 
 gress, lie advanced by Colnbrook and Brent- 
 ford as far as Turnhum Green, taking various 
 strong places, and making numerous prisoners 
 by the way, while Essex, hurrying to London 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 45 
 
 by «i different road, exerted himself strenuous- 
 ly in collecting smother and a much more num- 
 erous army. With this, which amounted to 
 lull twenty-lour thousand men, he tint w him- 
 self between the king and the city; and the 
 royalists, standing more in awe of numbers than 
 became men engaged in a desperate cause, ab- 
 stain. (I with unaccountable timidity from attack- 
 ing him. 
 
 It is not our province either to describe or to 
 account for the chain of events which induced 
 the king, first to entangle himself in a labyrinth 
 of fruitless negotiation, and then to fall back 
 from the gates of Loudon to winter quarters in 
 Oxford. These are matters, the details of 
 which belong rather to the chronicle of one of 
 the most striking eras in our general history, 
 than to the military biographer of Cromwell, 
 whose part in the drama was, as yet, neither 
 very prominent nor very accurately defined. 
 It is, indeed, a matter of doubt where he prin- 
 cipally exerted himself, as well as to what 
 ends his exertions were, during the progress 
 of these events, directed. As we behold him, 
 however, in the following spring, exercising 
 the chief military command in the associated 
 counties, we are disposed to believe that,- dur- 
 ing the winter of 1642, he found ample em- 
 ployment in preserving these in their not very 
 willing subjection to the power ol parliament. 
 But a wider field for the exercise of his ex- 
 traordinary military talent was already in pre- 
 paration ; nor was he slow in tntering upon 
 it. 
 
46 the life or 
 
 Wo have alluded to the promptitude which 
 Cromwell displaced in raising troops for* the 
 service of the parliament, before war had been 
 formally declared between tli<; opposite parties 
 in the state. It will he necessary, in order to 
 elucidate more fully the character of that great 
 lean's mind, not less than to account for the 
 signal services which his regiment on every oc- 
 casion performed, to explain the principle on 
 which he proceeded in making choice of his re- 
 cruits. We learn from Whitelock, that "most 
 of Cromwell's men were freeholders and free- 
 holders' sons, who upon matter of conscience 
 engaged in the quarrel; and, being thus well 
 armed within by the satisfaction of their own 
 consciences, and without by good iron arms, 
 they would, as one man, stand firmly, and 
 charge desperately." Why In; was thus par- 
 ticular he himself stated, when detailing the 
 substance of a conversation which he had held 
 with his friend and relative Hampden, in his 
 place in the house of commons! "I had a 
 very good friend," said he, "and he was a 
 very noble person, and 1 know his memory 
 was very grateful to you all, Mr. John Hamp- 
 den. At my first going into this engagement, 
 I saw their men beaten at every hand; I did 
 indeed; and I desired him that he would make 
 some addition to my lord Essex's army, and I 
 told him I would he serviceable to him, in 
 bringing men in, as I thought had a spirit that 
 would do something in the work. This is very 
 true that 1 tell yon; God knows that I lie not. 
 Your troops, said I, are most of them old de- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 47 
 
 caved serving-men and tapsters, and such kind 
 of fellows; and, said I, their troops are gentle- 
 men's sous, younger sous, and persons of 
 quality. Do yon think that the spirits of such 
 I) is.- and mean fellows will ever be able to en- 
 counter gentlemen that Have honour, and cour- 
 age, and resolution in them? Truly I prescrib- 
 ed hi n in this manner conscientiously, and 
 truly I did tell him, you must get men of a 
 spirit, and, take it not ill what I say (1 know 
 you will not,) of a spirit that is likely to go on 
 as far as gentlemen will go, or else I am sure 
 yon will be beaten still, i told him so, I did, 
 seeing he wis a wise and worthy person; and 
 be did think that I talked a good notion but an 
 impracticable one. Truly I told him that I 
 would do something in it. I did so, and truly 
 I must needs say to you (impute it to what 
 you please.) [ rai -■. d such men as had the fear 
 of (md before them, and made some conscience 
 of what they did; and from that day forward 
 I must say to you, they wen; never beaten; and 
 wherever they were engaged against the enemy, 
 they beat continually." 
 
 Of Cromwell and his soldiers, sir P i ip 
 Warwick accordingly gives the following graphic 
 description : — 
 
 •' They had all," says the loyal knight, 
 " either naturally the phanatick humour, or 
 soon imbibed it; but a herd of this sort of men 
 being bv him drawn together, he himself 1 , like 
 Mahomet, having trail ports of phan-y, a d 
 withal a c afty understanding, knowing that 
 natural! principles, though not morally good, 
 
43 THE LIFE OF 
 
 will conduce to tlio attainment of natural! and 
 
 politick (Mills, made use of the zeal and creduli- 
 ty of those persons, teaching them, as they too 
 readily taught themselves, that they engaged 
 for G<»d, when he led them against his vice- 
 gerent the king; and where this opinion mett 
 with a natural] courage, it made them the 
 bolder, and too often the crueller. And these 
 men, habituated more to spiritual pride than 
 earn ill riot and intemperance, so consequently 
 having bin industrious and active in ther for- 
 mer callings and professions, where natural! 
 courage wanted, zeal supplied its place; and at 
 first they chose rather to dye than to fl\e, and 
 custom removed fear of danger ; and after- 
 wards, finding the sweet of good pay, and of 
 opulent plunder, and of preferment suitable to 
 activity and merit, the lucrative post made 
 gaine seem to them a natural! member of godli- 
 ness." 
 
 Such troops as these, animated by the most 
 powerful of all feelings, enured to privations, 
 patient under hardships, obedient to the strict- 
 est discipline, and guided by a genius of the 
 highest order, might be annihilated, but could 
 not possibly sustain a defeat. 
 
 To fill up a single troop with men of this 
 stamp, proved a task of easy accomplishment; 
 to complete a regiment of more than ordinary 
 numerical strength, seems to have been scarce- 
 ly less so. Nevertheless Cromwell would not 
 lead thern into the prescribe of the enemy, till 
 he had in some degree tried their firmness. 
 The following account, though taken from 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 49 
 
 Heath, and unscrupulous writer, appears highly 
 deserving of credit. 
 
 '•Upon on the first muster of his troop, he 
 (Cromwell) having privily placed twelve reso- 
 lute f. Hows in an ambuscade (it being near 
 some oftlie king's garrisons,) upon a signal, at 
 the appointed time, the same ambush, will) a 
 trumpet sounding, galloped furiously towards 
 the main body of their comrades, of whom 
 some twenty instantly fled out of fear and dis- 
 m.'.v." No punishment was inflicted upon the 
 fugitives, nor were any approaches applied to 
 them. They were commanded on the spot to 
 surrender up their horses and equitments, and 
 coolly dismissed, that their places might be sup- 
 plied by men of sterner temperament. 
 
 We will not pause to remark upon the con- 
 summate skill which Cromwell displayed in 
 tliese elementary arrangements. A man per- 
 fectly read in bun an nature (and without a 
 thorough knowledge to human nature no man 
 need aspire to the character of a great general) 
 would alone have adopted such expedients, 
 both in the collection and training of recruits; 
 'nor will it be found that in handling his troops, 
 as the art of directing their movements in the 
 field is technically termed, he was more at 
 fault. 
 
 In the winter of 1642, we find bun at the 
 head of a single regiment of cavalry, keeping 
 six whole counties in subjection, and overaw- 
 ing multitudes of loyalists. In the spring of 
 1643, his corps had increased to two thousand 
 men, all of them devoted to their lender, and 
 4 
 
50 THE LIFE OF 
 
 prepared to perish at his bidding. Nor, to do 
 iii. ii justice, \v:is Cromwell disposed to deal 
 with them under the s.:r en of paltr\ subter- 
 fuges or hollow prevarications. While other 
 chiefs affected still to he in anus for their sov- 
 ereign, he often assured, ins men '-that lie would 
 not cozen them i>_\ the perplexed expression in 
 his commission to fight for king and purliu- 
 ment; and that therefore, if the king chanced 
 to be ' in the body uf the eneuiy, he would as 
 soon discharge. Iih pistol upon him as upon any 
 private man : and if their consciences would not 
 let them do the lik •. he advised them not to List 
 themselves under him." 
 
 SSuch was the state of Cromwell's prepara- 
 tions, when the extraordinary success of the 
 royalists in the north induced him to march be- 
 yond the limits of his own command, lie pen- 
 etrated into Lincolnshire at the head of twelve 
 troops of horse, disarming, as he went along, 
 all suspected persons; [among others he visited 
 his own uncle, sir Oliver Cromwell, whom, 
 though he would not stand before him, except 
 uncovered, he plundered of all his plate, as 
 well as of the arms in his house,] nor did any 
 great while ehpse ere be and his Ironsides (for 
 so his troops came to be designated) found an 
 opportunity of proving tiieir decided superiority 
 over evary thing which liie enemy could op- 
 pose to them. Not far from Grantham they 
 were met by a flying corps of cavalry, for sur- 
 passing (aceurdin^ 10 Uromwell's own state- 
 ment, at least doubling) them in numbers. 
 Not the slightest h isifc made ns to 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 51 
 
 risking an action; and the result was a decisive, 
 almost a bloodless, victory. Receiving the 
 Miemy 'ti fire, without caring to return it, except 
 by the skirmishers which covered his line, 
 Cromwell led his neople at once to the charge; 
 and as the royalists imprudently stood to abide 
 the shock, he overthrew them in a moment. 
 They fled in all directions, closely and hotly 
 pursued; and their loss, both in killed arid 
 prisoners, was considerable. Hut this was only 
 the beginning of the triumph* which these en- 
 thusiasts were destined to work out. Towards 
 the close of June, they effected a still more 
 important service, by bringing relief to the 
 town of Gainsborough, and cutting to pieces 
 the flower of the army by which it was men- 
 aced. 
 
 The corps of cavalry, of the destruction of 
 which we have just given an account, formed 
 part of light and independent army, with which 
 general Cavendish, brother to the earl of New- 
 castle, endeavoured to recover Lincolnshire to 
 the cause of the king. Among other measures, 
 he made a movement for the purpose of laying 
 siege to Gainsborough, of which the parliamen- 
 tary general, lord VVilloughhy, had recently 
 made himself master; and so alarmed was the 
 latter at the intelligence which reached him, 
 that he made up his mind to evacuate the 
 place. In this juncture, Cromwell, who calcu- 
 lated on the moral as well as the physical ef- 
 fects of a repulse, boldly threw himself with 
 his regiment between Cavendish and the town. 
 The enemy ontnurrrbed him by three to one, 
 
52 THE LIFE 01 
 
 and occupied the rammit of in acclivity, along 
 
 the b;ise of which ran a high fence, passable 
 
 only by a single gateway. Through ihi., in 
 detiance of a beav) fire, Cromwell caused his 
 men id lilc. He formed them, us they gained 
 the other side, suction by section, and charging 
 furiously npjthe hill, again won, by sheer im- 
 petuosity, a signal victory. Astonished nl the 
 boldness of the attack, fatigued with r< cent 
 inarches, and considerably disorganised by pre- 
 vious habits of plunder, the royalists received 
 the charge with k-nguor and hesitation. I hey 
 were broken and dispersed, one wing fleeing in 
 one. direction, another in another. Cromwell, 
 on the contrary, keeping bis people steadily in 
 band, wheeled round en masse upon the body 
 which held best together. lie drove it pell- 
 mell into a hog, where bis men, wound up to 
 the highest pitch of enthusiasm, put a I. includ- 
 ing Cavendish himself, to the sword. 'I bis 
 done, he drew oil' in excellent order towards 
 Boston, retreating slowly from the superior 
 numbers which threatened him, but presenting 
 at every stage a bold I rout to his pursuers, and 
 appearing to invite rather than slum an encoun- 
 ter. 
 
 It was high time for th'i republican cans.' of 
 the north that some such display should be 
 made; lor hitherto the tide af affairs bad ran 
 steadily against it. Tho battle of Atherton 
 Moor, bv destroying tb v: field force i 
 q , left Newcastle at liberty t>> f<> ktu al- 
 
 most any plan of 'campaign; and had h 
 severed in that which at one moment he 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 53 
 
 ed willing to adopt, a result widely different 
 from what actually be foil might have attendee! 
 the w.ir. Unfortunately Cor the l<i"g, how- 
 •ver, personal dislike towards prince Kupert 
 hind. red him from marching, as he \v;is re- 
 quired to do, upon Essex. Jie could not 
 brook the idea of serving under any one, and, 
 least of all, under the nephew of his sovereign. 
 He therefore gladly yielded to the first feeble 
 remonstrance offered by the gentlemen of 
 Yorkshire, against removing to such a distance 
 from their native country. At the same time, 
 the Hothams, repenting of the course which 
 they had adopted at the commencement of the 
 troubles, opened with him a negotiation for the 
 surrender of Mull, a place of which, both from, 
 its situation and resources, the royalists of the 
 north were exceedingly anxious to obtain pos- 
 session. 
 
 Having recovered Gainsborough, therefore, 
 and made himself master of Lincoln, he unex- 
 pectedly paused in his career, and finally re- 
 tracing his steps, sat down, on the 2d of 
 September, before Hull. Though too weak 
 to hinder this movement, the intelligence of 
 the republicans was such, that they were not 
 for an instant kept in ignorance as to its grand 
 influencing motive. The Hothams were sud- 
 denly arrested; and the command of Hull be- 
 ing committed te lord Fairfax, that officer 
 made every preparation for a determined and 
 obstinate defence. Meanwhile Manchester, 
 set free from his charge at London by the ill- 
 advised march of the king towards Glouces- 
 
54 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ter, drew together about seven thousand in- 
 fantry, with which he hastened to reinforee 
 the corps of Cromwell and Wflloughbji in 
 Lincolnshire. This junction was effected at 
 Boston on the Oth of October; and the com- 
 mand of h!1 the cavalry, to which a considera- 
 ble addition had heen made by the coining in 
 of sir Thomas Fairfax from Hull, being in- 
 trusted to Cromwell, on the 11th the campaign 
 opened in tamest. 
 
 Though himself finding ample occupation in 
 the si^ge of Hull, to v\ hich neither material 
 nor the composition of his army was adequate, 
 Newcastle had not been inattentive to the pre- 
 servation of his late conquests. In addition to 
 the garrisons left in Lincoln and Gainshorough, 
 a strong corps, consisting chiefly of horse and 
 dragoons, occupied the county under sir John 
 Henderson, an old and gallant soldier, who de- 
 sired nothing so much as that he might find an 
 opportunity of measuring his sword with Crom- 
 well. The wish which the hrave veteran bad 
 been heard frequently express, was destined 
 soon to receive its accomplishment. 
 
 On the I 2th of October, intelligence reach- 
 ed him that Oliver Cromwell, with the republi- 
 can cavalry, had halted in the vicinity oi" 
 Horncastle, while the infantry, under Man- 
 chester, were still alone da\'s march in the 
 rear. He promptly drew together a force very 
 superior to that which his enemy commanded, 
 and pushing forward at a brisk pace, came up, 
 a little before noon, with the rebels. Crom- 
 well had twice already triumphed against 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 55 
 
 odds not less fearful; he ftlt that he must 
 now triumph again, or be content to forfeit his 
 influence with the men. The latter was an 
 alternative not to be thought of for a moment; 
 so he drew up his people, and made ready to 
 stake both reputation ;md life itself on the cast 
 of a die. 
 
 Whether it was that Henderson's horses 
 were blown, or that, li ! cc many other old oth- 
 ers, he chose to fight only according to rule, 
 he halted as soon as he beheld the dispositions 
 of the enemy, and threw forward his dragoons 
 to skirmish. Of these Cromwell took no no- 
 tice; but giving the words "Truth and Peace," 
 and at the same time uplifting a psalm, he 
 commanded his enthusiasts, in the name of the 
 Most High, to charge home. They received 
 a volley as they approached, which did little 
 tk no execution. A second fire from the 
 cavalier line brought down the commander's 
 horse; but his men still pressed on; and in five 
 minutes the two corps were intermingled, and 
 at handstrokes. Cromwell, while in the act of 
 rising, was again struck to the earth by a 
 heavy blow; it stunned him, and he lay for a 
 few seconds insensible; but he no sooner re- 
 covered, than he dismounted one of his troop- 
 ers, and joined fiercelv in the melee. It was 
 desperate, but brief; for the royalists, broken 
 and amazed, gave way in all directions, and 
 were chased, with prodigious slaughter, to the 
 gates of Lincoln. 
 
 The effects of this victory were deeply felt 
 both by the conquerors and the vanquished. 
 
GG THE LIFE OF 
 
 Newcastle himself, having suffered severely in 
 a sortie, no sooner beard of it than be raised 
 
 the sieg" of Hull; while Henderson, taking 
 with him every disposable man, marched bark 
 to join his leader in Yorkshire. Manchester 
 and Cromwell, on the other band, employed 
 themselves to the best purpose throughout the 
 remainder of the season. They reduced sev- 
 eral castles and fortified towns, levied contri- 
 butions on the inhabitants, checked and re- 
 strained the excursions of the royalist partisans, 
 and strengthened the garrison of Newark; nor 
 did they retire into winter quarters till the se- 
 verity of the weather absolutely compelled 
 them. Yet even then Cromwell was not inac- 
 tive. Obtaining a new commission, as 
 lieutenant of the isle of Ely, he busied himself 
 during the close months in raising funds, by 
 the merciless plunder of the colleges at Cam- 
 bridge, and the cathedrals of Peterhorough 
 and Ely; in each of which he is said to have 
 perpetrated enormities disgraceful to him as a 
 man. though intelligible as proceeding from a 
 fanatic. 
 
 Meanwhile a new and a more decisive step 
 than any on which they had hitherto adventur- 
 ed, and to the promotion of which Cromwell 
 applied all his influence, was ti.ken by the 
 parliament of England. So early as the month 
 of August, 1 fi 4 8 , sir Henry Vane had arrived 
 at Edinburgh with a pressing invitation to the 
 presbyterians of Scotland, that they would 
 come to the assistance of their persecuted 
 brethren of tho south. He was received in 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 57 
 
 the most, enthusiastic manner by the heads of 
 the party; and a proof being exhibited that, the 
 solemn league and covenant bad been formally 
 ratified by the English parliament, all true 
 Scotchmen, between the ages of sixteen and 
 sixty, were summoned to attend the standard 
 of the Lord. 
 
 On the 1 9th of January, 1644, in defiance 
 of a season more than usual inclement, twenty 
 thousand men, most of them veteran soldiers, 
 and led on by experienced officers, passed the 
 Tweed at Burwick. They made an attempt to 
 surprise Newcastle, but failed, the marquis 
 having anticipated them. They then crossed 
 the Tyne, leaving six regiments behind to 
 blockade the place; and closely watched by 
 the royalists, fourteen thousand strong, they 
 arrived on the 4th of March at Sunderland. 
 This sudden appearance of a Scottish army in 
 Northumberland and Durham, at a moment 
 when the scales were evenly balanced be- 
 tween the parliament and the king, could 
 scarcely fail to operate fatally against the in- 
 terests of the latter. In addition to the pre- 
 ponderating superiority in point of numbers 
 secured to his enemies, the derangement of all 
 the plans which his commanders had formed, 
 affei-ted him very deeply; nor did any great 
 while elapse ere the evils arising out of it 
 showed themselves in a form even more dis- 
 tressing than had been anticipated. Sir Tho- 
 mas Fairfax, finding that the whole of York- 
 shire had been left to the care of three or four 
 thousand men under colonel Bellasis, marched 
 
58 THE LIFE OF 
 
 from Hull, came up with liim at Selby, and 
 gave him a total defeat. He pursued the fu- 
 gitives towards York, of which he would have 
 douhtless obtained possession, had not .New- 
 castle been made aware of its clanger in time; 
 nor could the marquis himself hope to pre- 
 serve so important a city, otherwise than bj 
 throwing the whole of his infantry within the 
 walls. He did so; but the measure served 
 only to defer a misfortune which destiny had 
 resolved to inflict. The Scots trode closely 
 upon his steps; they joined their camp to that 
 of the Fairfaxes, and the combined armies, 
 within the space of a few days, formally in- 
 vested the place. 
 
 The siege had not long been formed when 
 Manchester and Cromwell arrived, bringing 
 with them a very important accession both of 
 numerical strength and of military talent. 
 They broke off at once an armistice into 
 which Newcastle had contrived to inveigle the 
 republicans, and pushed their advances by 
 night and day with the utmost vigour. On 
 the 24th of June, a furious sortie was attempt- 
 ed, in which both parties suffered severely, 
 though the garrison was finally repulsed with 
 loss. On the 30th, however, intelligence ar- 
 rived which caused an immediate change of 
 plan on the part of the besiegers. Prince 
 Rupert, it appeared, having been commanded 
 by the king to raise the siege at all hazards, 
 was advancing with hasty strides ; and his 
 numbers being estimated at not less than twen- 
 ty thousand men, it seemed quite hopeless to 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 59 
 
 think of meeting him in the field, and continu- 
 ing at the same time the blockade of York. 
 After a brief consultation, therefore, the siege 
 was abandoned; the guards of the trenches and 
 Other detached corps were called in, and the 
 whole army moving off, concentrated at a place 
 called Marston Moor, about five miles distant 
 from the city. 
 
 The information which brought about this 
 change in the disposition of the parliamentary 
 forces was not incorrect. On the 1st of July 
 prince Rupert, his own corps being strongly 
 reinforced by Newcastle's cavalry under Gor- 
 ing, arrived within a single march of York; 
 whence, leaving his troops in position, lie hur- 
 ried forward under a slight escort to ascertain 
 the condition of the beleaguered town. To 
 his great surprise he found that the siege had 
 been formally raised; that from two sides of 
 the city even the trifling restraint of patrols find 
 videttes were withdrawn ; and hence, that 
 every facility in re-victualling, and otherwise 
 preparing it against future attacks, was afford- 
 ed. Nevertheless prince Rupert was not satis- 
 tied : he had been ins tr acted by the king, m 
 the letter which directed him northward, not 
 merely to relieve York, but to engage and de- 
 stroy the Scots: and he now prepared, in de- 
 fiance of the admonitions and warnings of 
 Newcastle, to attempt at least the perfect ac- 
 complishment of that order. It has already 
 been stated, that between the prince and the 
 marquis no cordiality of sentiment prevailed : 
 the latter therefore, finding that his advice was 
 
bO THE LITE or 
 
 received with coldness, ceased to ofler it; and 
 Rupert, taking the entire responsibility upon 
 In i -o'f, gave directions for the garrison to join 
 his army. 
 
 In th^ meanwhile the republicans, anticipa- 
 ting no pursuit, began their march southward, 
 with the design of retaining in subjection such 
 places, both in Yorkshire and Lancashire, as 
 had recently submitted to their arms. r l hey 
 had proceeded some miles on the Tadcaster 
 road, when intelligence arrived that the royal- 
 ists were advancing; and not many minutes 
 later, the rear was threatened by a cloud of 
 Rupert's horse. Without a moment's delay 
 the van* received orders to retrace its steps; 
 while those behind hastily drew up on a spot 
 of ground as favourable as the circumstances 
 of the case would allow. A broad and deep 
 drain ran along a portion of their front; to- 
 wards the right the ground was considerably 
 broken, hedges and copses, intersected by nar- 
 row lanes, forming there a species of natural' 
 entrenchment; but the left was wholly without 
 cover, the face of the country assuming in that 
 quirter the .complexion of a barren heath. In 
 g-neral the ground was flat, with here and 
 there an undulation, not inconvenient for the 
 disposition of a few guns; while remotely 
 either flank stood open, the very hedges 
 stretching only to a certain distance, where 
 they terminated in the moor. Independently, 
 therefore, of the tactics of the age, which 
 seem to have arbitrarily planted the cavalry on 
 the wings of all armies, such a disposition of 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 61 
 
 that arm appears to have been on the present 
 occasion judicious; as was also the estublish- 
 inent of a reserve of horse in support of the 
 second line of infantry. 
 
 Though the troops began to form so early 
 as ten o'clock in the morning, noon had passed 
 ere all were in position : for the advanced 
 guard had puslied so far ahead of the main 
 body, that they were now unavoidably thrown 
 considerably to the rear. As they came up, 
 however, they took their stations, the right 
 under sir ibomas Fairfax, the centre under 
 lord Fairfax and genera! Leven; while the left, 
 though commanded ostensibly by lord Man* 
 Chester, was in reality guided by Oliver Crom- 
 well. Meanwhile Rupert, in part overawed 
 by the bold front presented to him, in part re- 
 strained by the languid movements of his own 
 rear, could only gaze upon these formations, 
 without attempting to molest them. So soon 
 as his artillery came up, indeed, he caused 
 several pieces to open, which were promptly 
 answered by those of the enemy, but, contrary 
 to all precedent, he showed no disposition to 
 assume the initiative in the action. Thus it 
 was from five o'clock till half past six, when 
 the two armies, in splendid array, continued 
 quietly to face each other; at seven the parlia- 
 mentarians quitted their ground, and the battle 
 immediately beg u. 
 
 ^o many and such contradictory records 
 have come down to ns of this ! ■■. far th • most 
 important action during the civil w ar, that it 
 is not verv easy to offer of it any thi&£ like a 
 
62 THE LIFE OF 
 
 rational or minute description. That it was 
 obstinately maintained on both sides, all 
 chronicler! are agreed; hut there is tbe most 
 remarkable discrepancy in almost every point 
 of detail, not only between the writers belong- 
 ing to opposite parties, but among men who 
 on other subjects hold the same, or nearly the 
 sain.', language. It is even doubtful where 
 the strife began, whether on the right, the left, 
 or the centre; while in the parts assigned to 
 the various leaders during the combat itself, 
 not two men speak alike. Under such cir- 
 cumstances, we cannot venture to give more 
 than the general impression produced upon our 
 own minds by a perusal of numerous contra- 
 dictory authorities, warning our readers all the 
 while that they are free to judge for themselves 
 as to the credibility or otherwise of the state- 
 ments here recorded. 
 
 Prince Rupert had strongly occupied the 
 drain, by planting there four brigades of in- 
 fantry, which were supported on their right 
 by a body of horse, scarcely adequate to the 
 important purpose. Against these the first 
 movements seem to have been made*; for lord 
 Manchester's foot charging the ditch in front, 
 his cavalry swept round, in order to clear the 
 plain of the squadron, and attack it in the 
 rear. 
 
 As long as the "Ironsides" came not into 
 play, and they were under the necessity of 
 making a consul, Table detour in order to reach 
 their antagonists, the battle was maintained 
 with great obstinacy. Secore behind the ditch. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 68 
 
 the royalist musketeers poured upon the ad- 
 vancing column a ceaseless and well-directed 
 fire, while a battery in their rear plunged 
 heavily from an eminence into the parliamen- 
 tary ranks as they endeavoured to form. It 
 was to no purpose that the republicans brought 
 forward a couple of guns, with which they an- 
 swered this cannonade; the men fell by whole 
 sections, ami, brave ;is the odicers confessedly 
 were, not all their exertions availed to carry 
 on the survivors beyond the first line of (ire. 
 But a very different result ensued, so soon as 
 Cromwell with his chosen band fell in. Hav- 
 ing cleared the broken ground, and g.ined the 
 open moor, the) drove with their accustomed 
 imp tuosity upon the king's cavalry, which, 
 outnumbered to a great degree, and in part de- 
 feated by their own apprehensions, offered 
 hardly a moment's resistance. The republi- 
 cans next ellarged and took the guns, sabring 
 the artillerymen beside them, after which they 
 rode leisurely and in excellent order towards 
 the drain; but theJnfantry stationed there had 
 seen how affairs went, and stood not to re- 
 ceive the shock : they abandoned the vantage 
 ground, thus enabling the republican pikemen 
 to cross, and suffered considerably while re- 
 treating, though in good order, across the plain, 
 from repeated charges of the cavalry. 
 
 Wbiie those things were passing on the left, 
 the right of the parliamentary army not only 
 failed to make :\i^y impression, but sustained a 
 signal reverse. The ground on which they 
 stood, though favourable to men acting on the 
 
64 THE LIFE OF 
 
 defensive, told severely against them in a for- 
 ward movement; for they could advance only 
 through lanes and alloys in narrow columns, 
 each of which, as it endeavoured to emerge 
 into the open country, was swept by a heavy 
 fire from the whole line of the royalists. It 
 was at this juncture, when his infantry had 
 been repeatedly driven hick, that Fairfax or- 
 dered his cavaln to charge; the foot opening 
 to the right and left, in order that they might 
 pass through. They galloped gallantly for- 
 ward; but received a discharge so close, and 
 thrown in with such steadiness, that th< ir ranks 
 became instantly confused. Nor was a moment 
 afforded to recover from the surprise. 
 
 Rupert, who commanded here in person, 
 led forward his horse, charged, overthrew, -and 
 totally discomfited them; while they rushing 
 back headlong upon the line of foot, threw it 
 also into confusion. In an instant the royalists 
 took the lead; both horse and foot advanced, 
 some penetrating down the lanes, others filing 
 round; and in ten minutes the right of the re- 
 publicans sustained as decided a defeat, as 
 their left had just won a victory. 
 
 Operations such as these unavoidably brought 
 about a complete change of front in both 
 armies. According to the vulgar accounts oi~ 
 the battle, the two hosts changed ground, bat 
 this is manifestly an error : they merely faced 
 round, the on > side w heeling upon their centre 
 fo th« left, the othsr 
 
 tion to the right. Unfortunately, however, the 
 impetuosity of prince Rupert led him, as usual, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 65 
 
 too far in the pursuit; while Cromwell, not 
 less cooi than daring, held his men steadily in 
 hand. Yet when the victors on hoth sides did 
 meet, the meeting w;is stiff -and stern. In the 
 first shock Cromwell was wounded, and his 
 men reeled and wavered. Had there been 
 any adequate support at hand, even now the 
 day might have been retrieved; but ere Ru- 
 pert could recall or form the troops which he 
 liad permitted to scatter in the chase, a second 
 and still fiercer onset was made. That attack 
 was led by general Leslie, a Scottish officer of 
 reputation and merit, and it proved eminently 
 successful. Rupert's cavalry were fairly 
 swept from their ground; while his infantry, 
 at all times the least efficient of the royal 
 forces, gave bet a single fire, and fled in the 
 utmost confusion. Never was rout more com- 
 plete. The whole of the artillery, prodigious 
 quantities of small arms, tents, baggage, and 
 thi) military chest, all fell into the hands of 
 the victors; who, besides killing upwards of 
 five thousand men in the action and the pur- 
 suit, made one thousand five hundred prison- 
 ers. Nothing, indeed, except the vicinity of 
 York, saved even a remnant of the royalists 
 from destruction. 
 
 It is not worth while to give any detailed ac- 
 count of the dissensions and quarrels to which 
 this great victory proved the prelude, among 
 the leaders of both armies. Enough is done 
 when we st;ite, that Rupert and Newcastle, 
 mutually blaming each other, withdrew, the 
 one to the continent, the other, with the wreck 
 5 
 
66 THE LIFE OF 
 
 of his troops, southward; while the republi- 
 cans, marching upon York, placed it again in a 
 state of siege. The city opened i's gates on 
 tha 15th; but neither that event, nor the subse- 
 quent fill of Newcastle, though the whole of 
 the northern counties were reduced by them to 
 the obedience of parliament, served to hinder 
 the growth of bitter animosities in the victorious 
 hosts. 
 
 Cromwell, the avowed head of the inde- 
 pendents, became an object of extreme aver- 
 sion to the more moderate presby tenant, to 
 whom, in common with the nobility at large, 
 Manchester was attached ; while Manchester 
 and his friends were openly accused by the 
 lieutenant-general of a disinclination to pu h 
 the war to its just limits. Nor was it only by 
 circulating such rumours that either facti >i 
 strove to undermine the credit of its antagonist 
 The independents, on the one hand, assigned 
 the entire merit of the recent victory to Crom- 
 well and his cavalry; Crawford ami Mollis, on 
 the other, besides claiming it absolutely for 
 themselves and the Scots, accused Oliver of 
 personal cowardice. Thus, partly upon pub- 
 lic, partly upon private grounds, was a breach 
 created, which each successive operation, no 
 matter how conducted, served not to heal, but 
 to widen. 
 
 While these things were in progress, the par- 
 liament had equipped two strong armies in the 
 south, which, under Essex and sir William 
 Waller, moved in opposite directions for the 
 purpose of shutting up the king in Oxford. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 6T 
 
 Charles', apprised of their design, suddenly 
 evacuated the city, and, after a series of well- 
 executed manoeuvres, engaged and defeated 
 Waller at Copsedy Bridge. He turned next 
 upon Essex, whom he followed from place to 
 place, till he finally cooped him up in a corner 
 of Cornwall, where, after some delay, the par- 
 liamentarians were reduced to the necessity of 
 laying down their arms. 
 
 It is not easy to account for the excessive 
 lenity practised by the king on this occasion. 
 After an overture, which he deemed it judicious 
 to make, had been rejected by the earl, and 
 the earl himself had escaped by sea, — after the 
 enemy's cavalry had passed through an open- 
 ing in the roy.d lines, and the infantry were left 
 to their fate, the king consented to dismiss 
 them; naked, indeed, but still free to serve 
 again so soon as their masters should be in a" 
 condition, to renew their efficiency. By the 
 personal friends of Charles, — such as Warwick 
 and Clarendon, — the king's behaviour in this 
 instance is attributed to constitutional clemency; 
 it is not, perhaps, going too far if we venture to 
 assign the event to a mistaken and short-sighted 
 policy. 
 
 It seems to have been the wish of Charles to 
 move at once upon London, while as yet the 
 moral effects of his victories were felt; nor, in 
 the de>perate state of his affairs, could he have 
 devised a more prudent measure. But his army 
 was cwrt-prtsed of a class tit men whom it was 
 very diificult to persuade," and absolutely im- 
 practicable to control. The Cornish men re- 
 
68 THE LIFii OF 
 
 fused to quit their own county; and the ton ai - 
 ists both in Devonshire and Dorsetshire proved 
 more prodigal off promises than ol" performan- 
 ces. 1 J is movements were constantly delayed 
 for want both of provisions and moans of tran- 
 sport; and a military chest absolutely empty 
 brought with it the customary ovils of pay long 
 in arrear, and soldiers dissatisfied. Under these 
 circumstances, his progress was exceedingly 
 slow ; and it was at last determined that no 
 more should he attempted this campaign, than 
 to bring relief to certain castles in Berkshire and 
 the counties near, ajid then to establish the army 
 for the winter in Oxford. 
 
 Meanwhile the parliament, so far from suc- 
 cumbing under these disasters, strained eviy 
 nerve to repair them. They passed no vote of 
 censure against Ess. x, whom, on the contrary, 
 they treated with the utmost delicacy; but they 
 made, haste to re-equip his forces, as soon as 
 their arrival at Portsmouth, and their steady ad- 
 herence to the popular cause, were ascertained. 
 This done, they instructed general Skipton, on 
 whom, bee ause of the sickness uf bis superior, 
 the command had devolved, to move towards 
 Andover, where Waller, with the residue of 
 his forces, was in position. «g 
 
 .Manchester and Cromwell were, in like man- 
 n :r, directed to march southward to the same 
 point; and, finally, such a power was brought 
 toj»et er, in respect both of numbers and com- 
 p>siti ■■n, as hid not yet fornnd under one 1 -a- 
 der since the commencement of the wftfi To 
 tha chief command of this magnificent arm". 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 69 
 
 ihe oarl of Manchester was nominated; Crom- 
 well retained, as before; the ran!-; of general 
 of horse ; and the whole, wound up to the 
 highest pitch of enthusiasm, advanced against 
 the king. 
 
 The royalists occupied at this tir*.e a formida- 
 ble alignment in and about the town of New- 
 bury. Protected on one think by the river 
 Kennet, and in some degree covered bv (he 
 guns of Dennington castle on the other, they 
 strengthened their front by throwing up a breast- 
 work, and by occupying in force several villas 
 and gardens which extended conveniently be- 
 yond the town. 
 
 There was one mansion in particular, called 
 Doleman's house, which stood for them in the 
 most convenient situation, being a little in ad- 
 vance of the breast work and a row of lesser 
 houses, yet exposed on all sides to a raking 
 fire. This, as well as lhe garden, which they 
 strengthened by thick embarkments, was filled 
 with troops; while a!! the hedges and ditches 
 near swarmed with skirmishers and every con- 
 venient mound was surmounted by one or more 
 pieces of artillery. In one respect alone, ami it 
 was a very essential respect, their line was 
 weak. A hill, less than musket-shot in then- 
 front, offered to an assailant every facility for 
 the secure and undiscovered formation of 
 columns of attack; and the result of the action 
 proved, that against that solitary defect not all 
 the advantages i,f which we have just spoken, 
 availed. Nor was this all. The king had re- 
 cently detached three regiments of his best 
 
70 THE LIFE OF 
 
 horse for the purpose of relieving Banbury 
 castle - , and hence, when the day of battle came, 
 he found himself more than usually overmatch- 
 ed in that his favourite and most efficient arm. 
 For the open meadows which extended be- 
 tween Dennington castle and the town were 
 left grievously exposed; there was no efficient 
 reserve with which to support the scattered in- 
 fantry; and the means of checking patrolling 
 parties and obtaining intelligence, were in a 
 great measure taken away. But there was a 
 fatality attending all the grand movements of 
 that unhappy monarch, nor was its influence 
 less banefully felt on the present occasion than 
 it had been on others. 
 
 The two armies came in sight on the 25th 
 of October, and the 26th was devoted by the 
 republicans to the pushing of a reconnoissance; 
 this the royalists endeavoured to interrupt by 
 sending out clouds of musketeers to skirmish; 
 while both parties kept up a smart cannonade, 
 the parliamentarians from a battery which they 
 had established on the summit of the hill, the 
 cavaliers from the town and the works adjoin- 
 ing to it. For some time the firing produced 
 Jittle effect on either side; but towards even- 
 ing the royalists transported a couple of guns 
 across the river, which they so planted, us to 
 enfilade the enemy's line as far as a bend in 
 the eminence exposed it. A regiment of 
 cavalry in particular, commanded by colonel 
 Ludlow, suffered very severely, and was com- 
 pelled in the end to shift its ground. 
 
 On the following morning, however, a new 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 71 
 
 scene opened upon the combatants of either 
 party. The parliamentarians, having formed 
 in two heavy columns, showed themselv s a 
 little before noon, one upon the space between 
 Pennington and the town, the other in front of 
 Doleman's house and the works to its right; 
 while a tremendous cannonade along the whole 
 line served to distract attention, and to leave 
 doubtful where the blow would in reality fall. 
 No great while elapsed, however, ere this ap- 
 parent hesitation ceased. The column on the 
 left, covered by a cloud of skirmishers, ad- 
 vanced at a brisk pace, while that on the right 
 assumed such an attitude as to hinder a single 
 company immediately opposed to it from quit- 
 ting its ground. 
 
 The space between Dennington castle and 
 the town of Newbury was, without doubt, the 
 weakest in the royal line; and the absence of 
 those regiments of cavalry, of which we have 
 already spoken, exposed it in a tenfold degree. 
 The republicans had, moreover, posted there 
 the most enthusiastic of their infantry ; the men 
 who, having recenth laid down their arms in 
 Cornwall, were resolved at all hazards to re- 
 trieve their character. Nothing, therefore, 
 could resist the impetuosity of the assult; in- 
 deed, the cavaliers' line was in ten minutes 
 fairly pierced, one portion retreating within the 
 works at Dennington, the other falling back 
 precipitately upon the town. 
 
 The case was widely different about Dole- 
 man's house. There the parliamentarians, 
 seeing the success of their comrades on the 
 
72 THE LIFE OF 
 
 left, chose to hazard a desperate attack; and 
 their opponents, having every advantage of 
 position, as well as a full confidence in their 
 leaders, met them nobly. It was to no purpose 
 that they cleared the hedges and ditches, forc- 
 ing their way up to the garden wall, and pene- 
 trating to the very lawn in front of the house; 
 such a fire of musketry was poured upon them 
 from the windows and embankments near, that 
 no man who exposed himself survived to speak 
 of it; and even the drakes or small cannon, 
 with which they endeavoured to batter th ^ 
 house, were soon silenced. They retreated, 
 after a desperate contest of more than four 
 hours' duration, leaving two pieces of artillery 
 in the hands of the royalists, and escaped tola 1 
 annihilation only through the devoted heroism 
 of Ludlow's hors.), who sacrificed themselves 
 by moving forward to cover the retrogres- 
 sion. 
 
 It was now night; and the irregular direc- 
 tion of the fires on both sides indicated how 
 desperate must be the issue of the morrow's 
 strife. On the part of the republicans the 
 most sanguine expectations were formed; for 
 though they had suffered seriously on the 
 right, their left was completely successful. On 
 the part of the royalists, again, the feeling uni- 
 versally prevailed, that their position being 
 turned was no longer tenable. They accord- 
 ingly busied themselves in conveying, by a cir- 
 cuitous route, their guns and heavy stores into 
 Dennington; while battalion after battalion be- 
 gan to quit its ground, and march silently in 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 73 
 
 the direction of Ox fowl; It has been asserted, 
 that Cromwell, not doubting as to the state in 
 which affaire stood, repeatedly requested leave 
 to execute a forward movement with his eaval- 
 ry, but was peremptorily restrained by the 
 general in chief. 
 
 As Cromwell himself brought a charge to 
 this effect against lord Manchester in the house 
 of commons, there is probably some truth in 
 the statement; but, however this may be, it is 
 certain that the king was enabled to draw off, 
 unmolested and in good order, the whole of his 
 infantry and cavalry, and the lightest of his 
 guns. 'At dawn, indeed, not less than six 
 thousand horse followed him: but it was then 
 too l>te. Aot a shot was fired in the pursuit; 
 and the royalists, though compelled to abandon 
 their ground, were still enabled to boast that 
 having suffered no loss either in materiel or 
 prisoners, the battle ought to be regarded as 
 drawn. A T or was this all. While dissensions 
 fa yd so violently in the parliamentary camp, 
 that they would not so much as undertake 
 the singe of iJennington, the king having been 
 joined by prince Rupert fiom the north with 
 a corps of excellent horse, suddenly assumed 
 the offensive, and in «he face of his late 
 conquerors, drew all his guns and wagons 
 from the castle, with which he marched un- 
 molested to Oxford. So ended the can paign 
 of lb'4 4 ; for the king establishing himself 
 for the winter in that city, the republicans 
 went into cantonments in and around Read- 
 ing. 
 
74 THE LIFE OF 
 
 It were foreign to the design of a memoir 
 which professes to detail only the military 
 career of Cromwell, were we to devote much 
 space to the elucidation of transactions affect- 
 ing religion and general politics rather than the 
 progress of the war. We content ourselves, 
 therefore, with stating, that during the sum- 
 mer of 1644, the celehrated assembly of di- 
 vines had met, and that, hut for the prompt 
 and timely interference of Oliver, thev would 
 have passed laws absolutely destructive of his 
 long-cherished designs and wishes. In like 
 manner, the manifest disinclination of the no- 
 bles to push the king to an extremity', threaten- 
 ed to overthrow all his projects, and to block 
 up the road to further advancement against 
 him. Cromwell was not remiss in endeavour- 
 ing to counterwork those whom, with great 
 truth, he regarded as his national enemies. 
 By the exercisa of extraordinary finesse, be 
 brought forward and successfully carried 
 through the Self-denying Ordinance, — a mea- 
 sure which deprived of military authority 
 every individual belonging to the peerage, by 
 declaring it inexpedient for any member of the 
 great council to absent himself, under any pre- 
 text whatever, from his duties in parliament. 
 The principle of the bill was not, indeed, ad- 
 mitted till after much hitter recrimination had 
 passed between Cromwell and his lite com- 
 mander, the earl of Manchester; during the 
 progress of whi h they mutually accused one 
 another of disaffection to the great cause, and 
 even of backwardness in the hour of danger; 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 75 
 
 but it received, at length, the sanction of both 
 houses, and the men of greatest experience 
 hitherto employed under t lie parliament, the 
 earls of Essex, Manchester, and Den heigh, 
 laid down, in consequence, their commis- 
 sions. 
 
 The self-den ving ordinance passed into a 
 law on the 3d of April, lb' 45; and a fresh bill, 
 for remodelling the army, was immediately 
 introduced into the house of commons. By 
 this, which went through parliament without a 
 struggle, separate and independent commands 
 were abrogated, and all the detached corps 
 d^armee being joined into one, the whole was 
 placed under the general guidance of sir Tho- 
 mas Fairfax. It is a fact, peculiarly illustra- 
 tive of the spirit which actuated Cromwejl in 
 these proceedings, that while the office of 
 major-general was awarded to general Skipton, 
 and every other and minor appointment rilled 
 up, that of lieutenant-general, or second in 
 command, remained vacant. Of the causes in 
 which so remarkable an omission originated, 
 we might indeed be led to doubt, were we not 
 in possession of the strongest proofs that at 
 least it did not proceed from negligence. On 
 the contrary, as we find Cromwell's regiment 
 in open mutiny, because their beloved leader 
 was about to be removed from them; as we 
 discover a similar spirit arising in other corps, 
 when Cromwell, on the pretext of bidding 
 farewell to his old companions, repaired to 
 Windsor, where Fairfax had fixed his head- 
 quarters; as we find the same Cromwell, by 
 
m THE LIFE OF 
 
 an especial vote of the house, requested to re- 
 sume his military functions, at liist for a brief 
 space, at last permanently; it is impossible to 
 doubt that the oflice was all along reserved, in 
 order that he, at the fitting season, might ob- 
 tain it. 
 
 The truth, indeed, seems to be, that placed 
 in a situation of the most imminent peril, — be- 
 set on the one hand by the presbyterians, by 
 the nobles and ball' royalists on the other, and 
 scarcely supported as he expected to be by his l 
 professed friends, the independents, — Crom- 
 well had no choice left, except to risk all upon 
 the issue of a single cast. 
 
 He threw, and the dice turned up in his 
 favour; for his adherents, fortified in their zeal 
 by the success of one step, went on boldly to 
 take others, till they succeeded in violating, 
 in favour of their owh leader, the very law of 
 which he had been the author and main pro- 
 moter. 
 
 . It was not, however, by the mere distribu- 
 tion of commands and the exclusion from 
 places flf trust of all whom he suspected, that 
 Cromwell contrived to secure the army abso- 
 lutely to his own interests. With consum- 
 mate art he caused whole brigades to be dis- 
 banded, on which, above all others, the 
 moderate party could rely, while at the same 
 moment he incorporated with his favourite 
 regiments every individual belonging to those 
 brigades noted for his bold, reckless, and ex- 
 travagant enthusiasm. 
 
 "Never," says a late writer, [Dr. Russell, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 11 
 
 in his Life of Oliver Cromwell,] "vv;is a more 
 singular army assembled than that which \v;.s 
 now set on foot by the parliament. To the 
 greater number of the regiments chaplains were 
 not appointed, as the ollicers were, in general, 
 qualified to assume the spiritual duties, and to 
 unite them with their military functions. Dur- 
 ing the intervals of active service, they em- 
 ployed themselves in sermons, prayers, and 
 exhortations ; yielding their minds, in these 
 pursuits, to the same emulation which inspired 
 their courage in the day of battle. Enthusiasm 
 supplied the place of study and reflection; and 
 while they poured out their thoughts in un- 
 premeditated harangues, they mistook th:it elo- 
 quence, which to their own surprise as well as 
 to that of others, flowed in upon them, for 
 Divine illuminations conveyed by the agency 
 of the Spirit. 
 
 Wherever they were quartered, they ex- 
 cluded the minister from his pulpit, and, 
 usurping his place, conveyed their sentiments 
 to the audience with all the authority which 
 followed their power, their valour, and their 
 military exploits. The private soldiers, seized 
 with the same spirit, employed their leisure 
 hours in prayer, in reading the Bible, or iu 
 spiritual conferences, when they compared the 
 progress of their souls in grace, and stimulated 
 one another to further advances in the great 
 work of their salvation. When they were 
 marching to battle, the field resounded as well 
 with psalms and spiritual songs adapted to the 
 occasion, as with the instruments of martial 
 
78 THE LIFE OF 
 
 music; and every man endeavoured to drown 
 the sense of present danger in the prospect of 
 that state of never-ending peace and security 
 which was placed hefore him. In so holy a 
 cause wounds were esteemed meritorious, and 
 death a pious martyrdom; while, amidst the 
 peri's of the charge, and the confusion of the 
 conflict, their minds were supported by the de- 
 lightful assurance that the sword of an enemy 
 would only relieve them from the duties of this 
 world, to send them to the full enjoyment of 
 the next." 
 
 Strongly contrasted with all this, in every 
 point both of physical service and moral disci- 
 pline, was the conditio* of the royal forces. 
 Though still master of one third part of Eng- 
 glaiui, his sway directly extending from Ox- 
 ford to the extremity of Cornwall, — though 
 North and South Wales, with the exception of 
 the castles of Pembroke and Montgomery, both 
 acknowledged his authority, and the roval 
 standard still floated over several towns in the 
 midland counties, — Charles could not but per- 
 ceive that the chances of another campaign 
 were fearfully against hrm. While the parlia- 
 mentarians maintained a concentrated position 
 with upwards of twenty thousand of the best 
 troops in the world, his army, under the nomi- 
 nal command of the prince of Wales, though 
 in reality under that of Rupert, was frittered 
 away in a multitude of petty garrisons, and 
 languished in a state of the most alanniin: in- 
 subordination. The leaders, broken up into 
 factions, presumed to disobey the royal orders, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 79 
 
 and refused to serve under nn adversary or a 
 rival; the inferior otficers indulged in every 
 kind of debauchery; the privates lived at free 
 quarters; and the whole made themselves more 
 terrible to their friends by their licentiousness, 
 than to ibeir enemies by their valour. To 
 such an extent, indeed, were their excesses 
 carried, that the inhabitants of Wilts, Dorset, 
 Devon, Somerset, and Worcester, entered into 
 associations, which, under the denomination of 
 club-men, assumed an attitude of neutrality, 
 by acting indiscriminately against all armed 
 bands, in defence of private property, or in 
 punishment of outrages. 
 
 These associations, at first composed entire- 
 ly of the lower orders, soon received the 
 countenance and support of the gentry. They 
 were supplied with arms, encouraged to unite 
 in bodies, mustering not less than six thousand 
 strong, and began gradually to invite other 
 counties to a union, for the purpose of putting 
 an end, by force, to- the unnatural war which 
 had so" long devastated the country. Now, 
 though not directly opposed to their sovereign, 
 — though, on the contrary, objects of extreme 
 jealousy to the parliament — these clubs so far 
 weakened the royal cause, that they withheld 
 from joining it many persons who might have 
 otherwise done so. at the same time that they 
 unscrupulously cut to pieces all marauders, 
 without pausing to inquire under whose banner 
 they served. It is not, therefore, to be won- 
 dered at, if the king should'have gladly renew- 
 ed a negotiation for peace, yielding now many 
 
80 THE LIFE OF 
 
 points on which he had hitherto been obstinate; 
 or that, finding his commissioners return from 
 r.\bi idge with a declaration that all concession 
 was useless, he should have experienced the 
 deepest sorrow. Nevertheless, Charles was a 
 brave as well as a good in in. in the vices 
 which contaminated his followers he took no 
 delight; and hence rejoicing that the guilt of 
 innocent blood lay, as in the case of Loud, ex- 
 clusively with his enemies, he prepared to 
 trust all to Providence, which might even yet 
 uphold the right. 
 
 The negotiation, of the result of which we 
 have alone thought it necessary to give an ac- 
 count, came to a close on the 23d of February, 
 1646; and military operations, though at first 
 on a small scale, immediately recommenced. 
 Taunton was closely besieged by a royalist de- 
 tachment under sir Richard Greenwood ; at- 
 tempts were made to collect an army in 
 Somersetshire, and to stir up the adherents of 
 the cause in Kent and Sussex; while on Wales 
 repeated requisitions were made both for men 
 and money. 
 
 In the meanwhile the parliamentarians were 
 not idle. Fairfax, assuming the command of 
 the forces, proceeded to carry into execution 
 the new plans drawn up for his guidance, while 
 Cromwell, on whom the self-denying ordi- 
 nance was not yet permitted to operate, per- 
 formed several exploits not unworthy of his 
 established reputation. 
 
 On the 9th of April, for example, informa- 
 tion having reached head-quarters, that a strong 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 31 . 
 
 corp3 of cavalry was on its march from the 
 west for the purpose of joining the king at Ox- 
 ford, Cromwell put himself at the head of a 
 few chosen squadrons, and coming suddenly 
 upon the royalists at Islop-bridge, attacked and 
 defeated them with great slaughter. "Many 
 prisoners were taken in- the action, and a 
 standard which the queen had recently pre- 
 sented to her own regiment, fell into the hands 
 of the victors. 
 
 Cromwell turned next upon Blessingdon- 
 house, a place of arms not far distant, which 
 was at this time held hy the royalist colonel 
 (Wrudehank,) whom, by false representations 
 of his strength, he induced to surrender; and 
 he surprised soon afterwards and cut to pieces 
 a detachment of infantry under the orders of 
 sir William Vaugham. But success did not 
 attend all his operations during this excursion. 
 Having quitted his command in order to con- 
 sult with Fairfax, Goring, who had been sum- 
 moned from Bristol, was enabled to execute a 
 sudden movement against his troops, during 
 which he attacked them while crossing the Isis, 
 near Woodstock, and routed and dispersed 
 them with some slaughter and extreme con- 
 fusion. The joy the cavaliers at this success 
 was very great; but its effects were not more 
 enduring than those of a gleam of sunshine 
 amidst a storm. 
 
 Up to the present moment, the plans of the 
 
 campaign on both sides seem to have been 
 
 vague and uncertain. It was the great wish of 
 
 the parliament to block up the king in Oxford, 
 
 f> 
 
82 THE LIFE OF 
 
 so as by one decisive blow to end the war; it 
 was the object of the king not only to avoid 
 this hazard, but, moving into the north, to re- 
 lieve Chester, and to defeat the Scots ere the 
 re-organisation of the republican regiments 
 should" be completed. On the other hand, 
 Fairfax was exceedingly desirous to succour 
 Taunton, a place of great importance, as com- 
 manding the communication with Devonshire; 
 and he so far followed the bent of his own in- 
 clinations as to commence his march in that 
 direction. But Cromwell, who in this emer- 
 gency was left to observe the king, found him- 
 self incapable of checking any movement 
 which Ids adversary might make in force. 
 Charles, therefore, leaving a competent garri- 
 son in Oxford, took the road to Chester at the 
 head of his army; while Fairfax, apprehensive 
 of the issue, hurried back from Salisbury, and 
 sat do>vn before the place. It was to no pur- 
 pose, however, that he made daily a demon- 
 stration of his force. Disappointed in a hope 
 which he had been led to encourage, that the 
 gates would by treachery bs opened to him, be 
 still felt, or fancied himself, too weak to try the 
 fate of an assault, and he accordingly hesitated 
 between his own wishes and those of his gov- 
 ernment, till the opportunity of acting with ef- 
 fect had well nigh escaped him. 
 
 It was the 6th of June, and t lie parliament 
 alarmed by the success, s of the king, sent 
 positive orders for Fairfax to pursue. On the 
 following morning the general began his march; 
 but he did so under a persuasion that he was 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 6S 
 
 not acting for the best, while the circumstance 
 of Cromwell's withdrawal from the army, in 
 obedience to the tenor of the self-denying ordi- 
 nance, preyed heavily upon a mind not pre- 
 viously accustomed to depend for support on 
 its own resources. Fairfax wrote a long letter 
 to the speaker, in which he set forth the high 
 value of his lieutenant's services, and the 
 absolute confidence reposed in him by the 
 troops; and he summeded up all by entreating 
 that the ordinance might be suspended, at least 
 till the critical juncture at which affairs had ar- 
 rived should pass away. 
 
 To his extreme delight he received an an- 
 swer by express, in which it was stated, that 
 the house of commons had required general 
 Cromwell to continue with the army during a 
 space of three months. Not a moment was 
 lost in transmitting the despatch to CromwoJI, 
 who, being already prepared to expect such a 
 communication, instantly resumed functions 
 which he had scarcely laid aside. He drew 
 together about six thousand chosen horse, 
 marched by long journeys after the column, 
 and came up with it on the evening of the 1 3th 
 of June, at Northampton, where it lay within 
 six miles of the royalists. 
 
 While the leaders of the parliamentary forces 
 were executing these movements, the king, 
 undecided whether to follow up his original 
 plan by pushing against the Scots, or to return 
 upon his steps for the relief of Oxford, spent 
 his lime very unprofitably. Had he merely 
 halted at Leicester, no great harm would have 
 
34 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ensued, because numerous reinforcements 
 were advancing upon that town, the junction 
 of which would have rendered him equal to 
 any emergency. But, after permitting a por 1 
 tion of his army to move to one direction, he 
 suddenly changed his mind, and with the re- 
 mainder took the road to Oxford. 
 
 At flarborough the intelligence came in, that 
 the blockade of Oxford had been raised; and 
 it was urged by some of the royal officers, that 
 now, at least, the original scheme ought to be 
 followed up. Unfortunately, however, there 
 accompanied this report numerous and ex- 
 aggerated rumours relative to the repulse which 
 the rebels had sustained at Borstall-house, and 
 the disorganised condition of their troops; the 
 effect of which was to stir up an excessive im- 
 patience among the cavaliers to overtake and 
 destroyed their enemies. The consequence was, 
 that the southern route was again taken; and 
 on the 9th of June the army reached Daventry, 
 where for the second time it most unaccounta- 
 bly halted. 
 
 It is impossible to explain, on any grounds 
 of reasons the wavering and unwise policy 
 which dictated all the proceedings of the royal- 
 ists during this campaign. After removing 
 just so far from the base of his own operaiions, 
 as to render it extremely difficult for his sup- 
 plies to overtake him, in case of any sudden 
 need, the king stopped short, at a point where 
 he could neither command any accurate in- 
 formation relative to his enemies, nor check 
 nor overawe their movements in any direc- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 85 
 
 tion. Here, too, as if there had been no 
 danger threatening, he indulged in the idle re- 
 creation of hunting; while his officers and sol- 
 diers, following their ordinary practice, spread 
 h;tvoc over the face of the neighbouring coun- 
 try. 
 
 It was like the sudden bursting of a thunder- 
 cloud, when information arrived on the 12th 
 that the rebels were in full march towards 
 him, and that they were approaching Northamp- 
 ton, with an overwhelming force both of in- 
 fantry and cavalry. Orders were immediately 
 issued for a retreat. The retrogression began 
 at midnight, and by an early hour on the 
 following morning the van of the army re- 
 entered Harborough. Here the whole column 
 closing up was compelled to halt, in conse- 
 quence of repeated attempts made by the 
 enemy's horse to harass their rear; and here 
 also certain information being obtained that 
 Fairfax was not more than six miles distant, 
 new plans were proposed, and new devices 
 adopted. 
 
 We hove alluded to the arrival of Cronrwell 
 at Fairfax's head-quarters on the evening of 
 the 13th. His first measure was to urge the 
 propriety of sending on a strong recon- 
 noissance, for the purpose of ascertaining both 
 the position and intentions of the royalists; and 
 the command of the force thus employed be- 
 ing committed to Ireton, it performed its duty 
 with the best effect. Not long after'dark, 
 Ireton charged the king's outposts, drove them 
 in, and made some prisoners, from whom the 
 
86 THE LIFE OF 
 
 most exact information relative to the numbers 
 and disposition of the cavaliers were obtain- 
 ed. It was determined, in consequence, to 
 bring on, if possible, a decisive action on the 
 morrow; and to this end were all the exer- 
 tions of the chiefs forthwith directed. About 
 an hour before dawn, on the morning of the 
 14th, the whole army formed, and began its 
 march in profound silence, and in the best pos- 
 sible order. 
 
 The parliamentarians had proceeded as far 
 as Naseby, a village about ten miles north of 
 Northampton, when a corps of cavalry, bear- 
 ing the standards of the king, were observed 
 advancing. Satisfied that Charles had doubled 
 back upon his pursuers, and was determined 
 to give and not to receive the battle, Cromwell 
 recommended that advantage should be taken 
 of the strong ground on which they then stood; 
 and that the line should be formed at once, so 
 that the troops might be fresh and steady when 
 the critical moment came. Fairfax adoptod 
 without hesitation the suggestion of his lieu- 
 tenant. He drew up along the ridge of a gen- 
 tle eminence, with his infantry in the centre, 
 and his cavalry on either flank; and giving the 
 command of the right to Cromwell, and of tho 
 left to Ireton, he reserved the centre for him- 
 self. His artillery, of which he had some 
 twenty pieces in the field, was judiciously ar- 
 ranged, so as to command every avenue of ap- 
 proach; and the men, having sung a psalm, sit 
 down composedly and in rank, with their arms 
 in their hands. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 87 
 
 Meanwhile Charles, who had also selected a 
 favourable position, just in front of 1 larborough, 
 was persuaded by prince Rupert to quit his 
 vantage-ground, under the idea that the ene- 
 my were retreating, and that one fierce attack 
 would utterly disperse them. His infantry did 
 not exceed three thousand five hundred men; 
 and his cavalry, divided into two brigades, of 
 which Rupert led the one, and sir Marmaduke 
 Langdiile the other, amounted barely to three 
 thousand six hundred. With this feeble array 
 he was drawn on to the attack of full twelve 
 thousand men, most of them inured to danger 
 and accustomed to victory, and all imbued 
 with the wildest enthusiasm, civil as well as 
 religious. Nor was the order in which he be- 
 gan the battle more to be commended, than 
 the precipitancy with which he cast away the 
 great advantage of fighting on ground of his 
 own choice. 
 
 Rupert, no ways sobered down by his re- 
 verse at Marston Moor, led the flower of the 
 royal cavalry, amounting to two thousand men, 
 with slackened reins, and spurs plunged in 
 the horses' flanks, against Ireton's division. 
 As a matter of course, he overthrew and swept 
 it from its ground; and, equally a,s a matter 
 of course, he permitted his troops to disperse in 
 reckless pursuit, and to waste their own vigour, 
 as well as that of their horses, in the destruc- 
 tion of fugitives. Six pieces of cannon fell into 
 his hands ; and Ireton himself, having vainly 
 endeavoured to break a close column of royalist 
 pikemen, was wonnded in the face and taken. 
 
88 THE LIFE OF 
 
 On the; other flank, however, ;i widely different 
 
 issue befell. There Langdaie, following the 
 example of the prince, likewise endeavoured to 
 charge, in despite of the disadvantage of a hill, 
 and a heavy fire of caution; but he was met so 
 resolutely by Cromwell and his Ironsides, that 
 be recoiled from the shock. At this moment 
 Cromwell, who had held two squadrons in hand 
 Wheeled them suddenly round upon Lnngdale's 
 left. These fell on fuiwuah; and inking men 
 at a disadvantage, who 1 1 a ti alreadv been over- 
 mulched in front, they totally routed them. 
 Nevertheless Cromwell was far from chasing, as 
 Kujert did, with his whole array, lie sent 
 three out of seven squadrons to hinder the cav- 
 alry from rallying, and with the remaining four 
 rode furiously upon the king's infantry, now 
 wir fiily engaged in the centre with that of Fair 
 fax. Not for (-we instant could they abide this 
 fresh attack. They wavered, gave way, and 
 were penetrated through and through ; multi- 
 tudes being cut down on the spot, and multi- 
 tudes more casting away their weapons, and 
 calling for quarter. It was to no purpose that 
 Charles put himself at the head of his body- 
 guard, a chosen regiment of 300 horse, and 
 cheered them on to the rescue. He himself, 
 accompanied by a few attenduits, dashed for- 
 ward, and <retting intermingled with Cromwell's 
 men, had well nigh been taken prisoner ; but a 
 panic seized his guard, and instead of following 
 and supporting their royal master, they galloped 
 precipitately from the field. Then it was that 
 the carl of Carnwarth seized the king's reins. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 39 
 
 turned his horse suddenly round, and carried 
 him forcibly to the rear ; and there, too, the 
 whole both of the centre and left, seeing the 
 transaction, fled in the utmost confusion. 
 
 While these things were going on, Rupert, 
 after satiating his thir*t of pursuit, rallied his 
 men, and returned slowly to the ground which 
 he ought never to have quitted. Me found it 
 entirely occupied by the, rebels, and the sound 
 of tiring far in the r-eitf advertised him how af- 
 fairs had gone. He strove to restore the battle 
 by offering to lead his men to the charge, and 
 by pointing out where such a movement could 
 be made to the best advantage.; but the caval- 
 iers, though furions in the onset, were peculiar- 
 ly liable to be checked, and could never be per- 
 suaded to risk a second attack, even when a 
 first had succeeded. 
 
 On the present occasion, so far from riding 
 among the republicans, disordered in a great de- 
 gree by the rapidity of the advance, they en- 
 deavored to steal away by the flank, and fought 
 only when observed and pursued, as they soon 
 we're with the utmost impetuosity. At first they 
 defended themselves gallantly. Repeated shocks 
 were given and received, and many a horse ran 
 riderless over the plain; but ere long their calm- 
 er courage failed them, and they shunned or 
 languidly met every new encounter. At last all 
 order was laid aside. Men clapped spurs to 
 their horses am] fled in every direction, leaving 
 baggage, materiel, and cannon to their fate, 
 till the confusion became irretrievable, and the 
 rout complete. There foil of the royalists, in 
 
9fr THE LIFE OF 
 
 the battle and pursuit, eight hundred men; near- 
 ly four thousand were made prisoners; rind five 
 thousand stand of arms, upwards of one hun- 
 dred p drs of colours, the royal standard, the 
 king's cabinet of letters, bis coaches, and the 
 whole spoil of the camp, became the prey of 
 the victors. 
 
 Tins great and decisive victory was no sooner 
 secured, than Cromwell, regardless of the re- 
 spect due to his general, hastened to communi- 
 cate officially to the speaker of the house of 
 commons, how, " the good hand of God" had 
 wrought for them. The proceeding was in all 
 respects agreeable to the crafty and designing 
 character of the man; and it did not fail, as he 
 had anticipated that it would not, to make its 
 own impression. But Cromwell was not less 
 active in improving his advantages in the field, 
 than in turning them to account elsewhere. 
 Having witnessed the capture of Leicester and 
 the relief of Taunton, he advanced at the bead 
 of a chosen corps to meet Goring, of whose ap- 
 proach he bad been advertised ; and attacking 
 hi n unexpectedly, first drove him back to 
 Bridgewater, and then cut his army to pieces. 
 He then hurried back to Bristol, prevailed upon 
 Fairfax to attempt its reduction by assault, and 
 had the gratification to see it surrendered with 
 all its magazines and stores. In like manner 
 the fortress of Devizes, Berkley Castle, and the 
 city of Winchester, were each in succession ta- 
 ken, — the two former bv storm, the latter by 
 capitulation. At the surrender of this place an 
 event befell not undeserving of notice, because 
 

 OLIVER CROMWELL. * i)l 
 
 highly characteristic of the sound discretion, if 
 not of the strict military honour, which belong- 
 ed to Cromwell. 
 
 It was stipulated as one of the conditions on 
 which Winchester consented to open its gates, 
 that all plundering and marauding should -be 
 prevented. Six of Cromwell's men, in defiance 
 of his orders to the contrary, committed some 
 excesses, and being taken in the act, were 
 i brought before the general. He caused the 
 criminals to cast lots in order to determine which 
 should suffer as an example, and the man on 
 whom the lot fell he instantly hanged on the 
 spot. The remaining five were sent to Oxford 
 under a flag of truce, with an explicit statement 
 of their crimes, and a desire on the part of the 
 republican general that the royalists would deal 
 with them as they saw meet. As might have 
 been anticipated, no other use was made of this 
 sanction than to send back the men, accompa- 
 nied by a handsome acknowledgment of the 
 honourable conduct of Cromwell. By these 
 means both the lives of the culprits were saved, 
 and the reputation of the general raised as well 
 in the ranks of his enemies as among his friends. 
 Following up his successes, to which, indeed, 
 there was no longer a field force capable of of- 
 fering any interruption, Cromwell reduced 
 Basinghouse and Lonuford-house, both of them 
 castellated mansions; and made a prisoner, in 
 the former, of its proprietor, the marquess of 
 Winchester lie then pushed into Devonshire, 
 where at Bovey Tracy, he dispersed a corps 
 under the command of lord Wentworth, with 
 
92 THE LIFE OF 
 
 the loss of 500 prisoners. His next movement 
 was to rejoin Fairfax, with whom he co-operat- 
 ed in the various operations which led to the 
 reduction of Dartmouth, the defeat of lord Hop- 
 ton at Torrington, and the general subjugation 
 of the west. At last, after the siege of Exeter 
 hid been formed, and lord Hopton, wilh the 
 wreck of the royalist army, was taken, Crom- 
 well withdrew from the field, and, hastening, 
 back to London, make ready to use for his own 
 purposes the extraordinary favour with which lie 
 was there received by all classes. 
 
 We shall not pause to describe the nature of I 
 the reception with which' Cromwell was wel- 
 comed bark to his place in the house of com- 
 mons. Let it suffice to state, that, in addition 
 to a grant of two thousand five hundred pound a 
 year, to be paid to him and his children forever, 
 out of the lands lately belonging to the marquess 
 of Winchester, it was ordered that the lieuten- 
 ant-general be recommended as a fit person to 
 receive the honor of the peerage ; and that the 
 king be requested to create him a baron, with 
 a right of succession to the heirs male of his 
 body lawfully begotten. This was, indeed, a 
 strange decree for an assembly to pass which 
 bore arms against the very sovereign whom they 
 still treated as the fountain of honour ; and it 
 fell, as indeed it could not hut fall, absolutely 
 to the around. Nevertheless, it stands on record 
 a veritable witness of the respect in which Crom* 
 well was then held by al! parties; more especial- 
 ly by that which, within a brief space after- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 93 
 
 wards, wns doomed to suffer total annihilation 
 at his hands. 
 
 'The winter of 1645-6 was spent by Crom- 
 well in straggling against the preslnterian fac- 
 tion, who, though at first they received him 
 with open arms, were not slow in seeing into 
 his designs and seeking to counteract them. 
 These, not less than the nobility, were averse 
 to push the war beyond the limits necessary lor 
 restraining the royal prerogative, and abolishing 
 episcopacy; whereas Cromwell and the inde- 
 pendents dreaded nothing so much as a recon- 
 ciliation, no matter at what expense purchased, 
 between the king and the parliament. They 
 accordingly laboured by every possible means 
 to cast impediments in the way even of a nego- 
 tiation. It is not our province to describe the 
 measures adopted by either party, in order to 
 obtain an ascendency over its rivals both in par- 
 liament and with the nation. Enough is done 
 when we state, that, though the majority of the 
 people were so dacidedly disposed to peace that 
 they would have accepted it on the terms pro- 
 posed by the king, the army, almost to a man, 
 supported Cromwell; and the power of the 
 sword was found, as in the end it always is and 
 always must be, to overbalance that of reason 
 and justice. 
 
 The spring of 1656 brought with it the most 
 gloomy prospects both to Charles and his ad- 
 herents. Frustrated in a desperate effort to join 
 his partisans in Scotland, and deprived one by 
 one of all the forts and castles which he held in 
 the southern and western counties, the unfortu- 
 
94 THE LIFE OF 
 
 nate monarch at l?st shot hiinself up in Oxford; I 
 where he was narrowl) watched and straitened 
 in all his proceedings In a flying corps, under i 
 the coniinand of colonel Raiusburgh. Mean- 
 while the Scots, having defeated tlie gallant 
 Montrose at Philip liaugh, marched into the 
 centre of England, and, overrunning lite coun- 
 ties of York and Lincoln, satdown before i\ew- 
 ark. Of this place, which was well provided, 
 they pressed the attack with extraordinary \ ig- 
 our ; while Fairfax, after completing the con- 
 quest of Cornwall, approached with rapid strides 
 for the purpose of la)ing close siege to Oxford. 
 It was a moment of tremendous peril to the I 
 king, and of deep and awful excitation both to i 
 Cromwell and his rivals. With reaped to 
 Charles, now that every prospect of successful 
 resistance had disappeared, he saw that to fall 
 by violence into the hands of the rebels must 
 lead to his own inevitable destruction. lie 
 strove, therefore, once more to open a negotia- 
 tion with the parliament; proposing no specific 
 basis on which to treat, but desiring onl\ that a 
 safe-conduct would he afforded him, and that 
 he might be permitted to hold, with the heads 
 of the opposite party, D personal conference in 
 Westminster, iiad this most equitable request 
 been granted, there is good ground for believing 
 that, even yet the monarchy might have It en 
 preserved. A strong re-action had already ta- 
 ken place in popular feeling ; of the citizens of 
 London, not a few began to perceive that, in 
 crushing the royal authority, they had merely 
 transferred their necks from cm: yoke to anoth- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 95 
 
 er ; and hence a numerous and influential party 
 were prepared to place tin: king once more up- 
 on a throne, of wnieh ihe powers would, indeed, 
 be restricted within very narrow limits. Lut by 
 Cromwell and hit) faction sucli a measure was 
 naturally regarded as utterly destructive oi* all 
 their designs. '1 hey, therefore, employed every 
 artifice of misrepresentation and double-dealing, 
 for the purpose of hindering the king's proposal 
 from being entertained; and they were again, to 
 the sorrow of all sober-minded Englishmen, per- 
 fectly successful. 
 
 Thwarted in this endeavour, and cajoled by 
 the treacherous recommendation of Montreuil, 
 the French minister, Charles now resolved upon 
 a step, from which, when once taken, he could 
 not but perceive that there was no possibility of 
 receding. Relying partly upon the hold which 
 he believed himself still to have on the affec- 
 tions of his native subjects, partly upon their 
 avowed disposition to restore bun so soon as he 
 should have subscribed their solemn league and 
 covenant, he determined to throw himself into 
 the arms of the Scots ; and the guards being 
 loosely kept by the troops under Oxford, he was 
 enabled with slight peril to effect' his purpose. 
 On the 5th of May he arrived in disguise at the 
 head-quarters of the army before Newark, at- 
 tended only by a Mr. Ashhurnham and another 
 humble friend, Dr. Hudson, it is a remarka- 
 ble fact, that against this movement on the part 
 of the king, though its object was well known 
 in London at least a week prior to its execution, 
 no extraordinary measures were taken. On the 
 
66 THE LIFE OF 
 
 contrary, Rainsburgh, a creature of Cromwell, 
 became a remiss at a juncture when, above all 
 others, the parliament required vigilance to be 
 exerted; and Charles passed through his lines, if 
 not unobserved, at least unchallenged, ilovv 
 far the escape of the royal captive might or not 
 be acceptable to Cromwell, the reader is left 
 to judge for himself; nor, we apprehend, will 
 he be at any loss in determining the point, pro- 
 vided he take a broad view of the designs ,.nd 
 operations of that wily and deep-reasoning in- 
 dividual. 
 
 It belongs not to the military biographer of 
 Oliver Cromwell to attempt any relation of tie 
 many and con plicated intrigues which ensued 
 upon the adoption of this fatal step by the- king. 
 No student of history can hive forgotten, that, 
 at the mandate of the sovereign. Newark open- 
 ed its gates; and that, Oxford likewise submit- 
 ting, Fairfax was enabled to lead back his army 
 in triumph to London. As little need we re- 
 mind the reader of the controversy which im- 
 mediately began, between the English parlia- 
 ment and the Scottish army, relative to the dis- 
 posal of the king's person. The former, argu- 
 ing that, as the Scots were mere auxiliaries, 
 they had no right to keep back from the princi- 
 pal, wiiose cause they had espoused, any trophy 
 won in the strife, required that Charles should 
 be given up to them; while the latter, asserting 
 the;r absolute independence, appeared for a 
 time well disposed to treat the will of the Eng- 
 lish with contempt : but a vote that the English 
 army should be kept up during six months Ion- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. »7 
 
 ger, accompanied by a northerly movement of 
 some of Fairfax's divisions, greatly shook the 
 obstinacy of Leslie; and the immediate dona- 
 tion of one hundred thousand pounds, with a 
 promise of three hundred thousand pounds more, 
 overcame it altogether. Thus was the king 
 basely given up into the hands of his enemy, 
 by whom he was conducted, under a strong 
 guard, to Holdenby-house; while the Scots 
 withdrew into their own country, covered with 
 the deepest disgrace. 
 
 The surrender of Charles, though it put an 
 end at once to the grand struggle between the 
 two principles of royalty and democracy, was 
 far from establishing concord either throughout 
 the nation at large, or among the several par- 
 ties in the two houses of parliament. New 
 questions came promptly before the latter, re- 
 lating to the future civil and religious govern- 
 ment of the realm; and new prejudices were 
 stirred up, which operated with increased force, 
 in proportion as men daily felt that the original 
 ground on which they first took arms had been 
 long abandoned. There were at this time not 
 fewer than four distinct, factions within the house 
 of commons alone ; namely, the presbyterians, 
 the independents, the lawyers, and the men of 
 no religion at all. Of these, by far the most 
 powerful in point of numbers were the presby- 
 terians ; but, while the independents surpassed 
 them greatly in talent, they were viewed with 
 peculiar distrust by the other two ; and hence, 
 in all leading points, they found themselves 
 overwhelmed by a union of interests. Never- 
 7 
 
98 THE LIFE OF 
 
 theless they made many a desperate effort to 
 keep the power in their own hands ; first by 
 striving to win over the king to their views, and 
 next by the establishment of a republic, and the 
 reduction of the army : but in all they were 
 baffled in some degree by the honourable firm- 
 ness of the monarch, who would not accept iho 
 crown at the expense of the suppression uf »;pis- 
 copacy ; though much more decidedly by the 
 skill, hardihood, and unblushing dissimulation of > 
 their great adversary Cromwell. 
 
 Of the measures adopted by Cromwell to 
 hinder the reduction of ihe army, and the neces- 
 sary result of such a measure, — his own im- 
 peachment, — our limits will not permit us to 
 speak, except briefly. By means of various 
 confidential agents, among whom Ireton, his 
 son-in-law, was conspicuous, he excited in the 
 minds of the soldiers so great a jealousy of par- 
 liament, that they positively refused to obey an)' 
 edict which came from that body ; and electing 
 from among their own members delegates or 
 adjutators, they asserted their right, as the 
 champions of public freedom, to take part in the 
 deliberations of government. A long list of 
 grievances was in consequence sent in, all of 
 which they required to be redressed ; and, the 
 better to enforce a compliance with their wishes, 
 they compelled Fairfax to lead them towards 
 the metropolis. Never was hypocrisy moro 
 palpable than that exercised by Cromwell dur- 
 ing the progress of these events. In his place 
 in the house he sometimes inveighed against the 
 conduct of the troops, declaring that his own 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 99 
 
 life was not safe from their violence ; at other 
 times he ottered himself as a pledge of their loy- 
 alty and good faith, provided only the arrears 
 due to them were paid up, and the ahuses of 
 which they complained corrected : yet he ceas- 
 ed not, ail the while, to exercise over their de- 
 liberations and movements an irresistible influ- 
 ence, of which they were themselves quite un- 
 conscious. We should record the fact as ex- 
 traordinary, did we not see similar occurrences 
 every day — that, though there was not a man 
 in the opposite party so short-sighted as to be 
 ■deceived by these declarations, they all, with 
 scarcely a solitary exception, affected to be so. 
 They consented that not a trooper belonging to 
 Fairfax's corps should be dismissed ; and they 
 disbanded others, on whose services, had they 
 dared to appeal to force, they might have fully 
 relied. Thus was one great engine brought into 
 play by this most crafty politician ; it remained 
 to employ another scarcely less influential. 
 
 We have alluded to the efforts made by the 
 presbyterians to obtain the countenance of the 
 1 ing, and the steady adherence of Charles to 
 tl e religious principles in which he had been 
 ec ucated. In proportion as they found them- 
 se ves deserted by the army, the leaders of that 
 fa< tion became more and more importunate with 
 the monarch ; till Cromwell and his adherents 
 foi nd it necessary, in self-defence, to adopt a 
 sin ilar line of conduct. The first step on the 
 pa t of the lieutenant-general was to secure Ox- 
 foid, then a strongly fortified city, and well 
 supplied with military stores ; his next to seize 
 
 - : - 
 
100 THE LIFE OF' 
 
 the king's person, and to bring him, under a 
 slight escort, to Hampton Court. Here Charles* 
 was treated, for a while, with the utmost t du- 
 ference and respect; not mily was he permitted 
 to hold intercourse with his son, and other mem- 
 bers of his family, but all the forms of royalty 
 were maintained about his person ; and both 
 Cromwell and Ireton affected to enter with the 
 utmost zeal into his schemes and wishes. Final- 
 ly, it was proposed that, on certain conditions, 
 involving the sacrifice of some of his most de- 
 voted friends, the temporary resignation of 
 many prerogatives, and the total abolition of 
 others, Charles should be restored to the throne; 
 with a distinct understanding that episcopacy, 
 though not established, should be tolerated, and 
 all men left free to follow the dictates of their 
 own consciences in matters of religion. [Crom- 
 well was to be created earl of Essex ; and Ire- 
 ton and his son promoted to offices of the high- 
 est trust. 
 
 Unfortunately for the king, he was deceived in- 
 to a belief that it rested with him to give the pre- 
 ponderance to either of the rival factions ; and, 
 almost equally disliking the principles of both, 
 he ventured to hold both in suspense till the 
 critical moment, if such there ever was, had 
 passed away. Nor is this all. During the tar- 
 dy progress of the negotiation a new faction 
 sprang up, both in the army and the nation, 
 bitterly and furiously hostile to all dignities ; 
 while Charles, as if labouring under the curse 
 of judicial blindness, deliberately laid himself 
 open to the charge of gross and incurable du- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 101 
 
 plic.ity. The queen, hearing of the state in 
 which matters rested, had written to express her 
 hopes that no terms would ever be granted to 
 murderers and rebels. It was perilous enough 
 to receive such a letter, circumstanced as the 
 king was, — it was the conduct of an infatuated 
 person to reply to it, except in general, if not in 
 condemnatory, terms, — yet Charles committed 
 the egregious folly to assure her majesty that 
 she might trust to him the task of rewarding his 
 new friends according to their deserts. The 
 following account of the means by which this 
 rash insinuation became known to those most 
 deeply interested we extract from the memoirs 
 of Lord Btoghil ; who gives the statement, as 
 his biographer affirms, in the words of the pro- 
 tector himself. 
 
 " The reason of an inclination to come to 
 terms with him" (the king,) said Cromwell, 
 " was, vve found the Scots and presbyierians 
 began to be more powerful than we, and were 
 strenuously endeavouring to strike up an argu- 
 ment with the king, and leave us in the lurch ; 
 wherefore we thought to prevent them by otter- 
 ing more reasonable conditions. Hut while we 
 were busied with these thoughts there came a 
 letter to us from one of our spies, who was of 
 the king's bedchamber, acquainting us that our 
 final doom was decreed that day : what it was 
 he could not tell, but a letter was gone to the 
 queen with the contents of it, which letter was 
 sewed up in the skirt of a saddle; and the bear- 
 er of it would come with the saddle on his head, 
 about ten o'clock the following night, to the 
 
102 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Blue Boar inn in Holborn, where he was to 
 take horse for Dover. The messenger knew 
 nothing of the letter in the saddle, but someone 
 in Dover did. We were then in Windsor; and, 
 immediately on the receipt of the letter from 
 our spy, Ireton and I resolved to take a trusty 
 fellow with us, and, in troopers' habits to go to 
 the inn ; which accordingly we did and set our 
 man at the gate of the inn to watch. The gate 
 was shut, but the wicket was open, and our 
 man stood to give us notice when any one came 
 with a saddle on his head. Ireton and I aat in 
 a box near the wicket, and called for a can of 
 beer, and then another, drinking in that dis- 
 guise till ten o'clock, when our sentinel gave us 
 notice that the man with the saddle was come ; 
 upon which we immediately rose ; and when 
 the man was leading out his horse saddled, we 
 came up to him with our swords drawn, and 
 told him that we were to search all that went 
 in and out there ; but that, as he looked like an 
 honest fellow, we would only search his saddle 
 — which we did, and found the letter we look- 
 ed for. On opening it we read the contents, in 
 which the king acquainted the queen that he 
 was now courted by both the factions — the 
 Scots, the presbyterians, and the army ; that 
 which of them bid fairest for him should have 
 him; that he thought he could close sooner with 
 the Scots than with the other. Upon which we 
 speeded to Windsor; and, finding we were not 
 like to have any tolerable terms with the king, 
 we resolved to ruin him." 
 
 That this story is strictly true, we see no 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 103 
 
 reason to doubt; and that the transaction pro- 
 duced its effect in determining the future con- 
 duct of Cromwell, seems in the highest degree 
 probable. But, however this may be, we know 
 that the flight of Charles to lite Isle of Wight 
 took place not long after ; and we are assured, 
 on the best authotity, that the unfortunate move- 
 ment was made in consequence of a letter from 
 the lieutenant-general, disclosing a design on 
 the part of the levellers to assassinate his majes- 
 ty. Nor can it less admit of a question, that 
 the determination to put the king to death was 
 first entered into at Hampton Court, immediate- 
 ly on the return of the two actors in the by-play, 
 from the Blue Boar. Thus, then, may the fate 
 of the unhappy monarch be attributed, at least 
 in part, to his own excessive imprudence ; and 
 to the idea produced by it among all classes of 
 his enemies, that he was incapable of keeping 
 with them any terms. 
 
 In the meanwhile the disaffection among the 
 troops, of which we have already spoken, as- 
 sumed an aspect so serious, as to threaten the 
 most terrible consequences. Two regiments in 
 particular appeared one morning upon parade 
 with labels affixed to their hats, on which were 
 inscribed the words " The people's freedom 
 and the soldiers' right ;" nor could all the exer- 
 tions of their officers prevail upon the men to 
 lay aside the obnoxious badge. It is in such 
 situations that the dauntless confidence spring- 
 ing from a sense of natural superiority avails 
 more, perhaps, than all the meretricious (advan- 
 tages of rank or station. Cromwell no sooner 
 
104 THE LIFE OF 
 
 heard of the proceeding, than, accompanied by 
 Fuirfax, he hurried to the camp. One of the 
 battalions, being persuaded to return to its duty, 
 was dismissed with a reprimand; into the ranks 
 of the other the lieutenant-general promptly 
 rushed, and seized with his own hand the most 
 active among the mutineers. A court martial 
 was instantly convened; the man was tried, and 
 found guilty ; and, in the presence of his com- 
 rades, he was shot to death upon the spot. It 
 was a bold, but a completely successful meas- 
 ure; for the corps at once submitted ; and, for 
 the present at least, all apprehensions of revolt 
 caused to be felt. 
 
 Some time prior to the occurrences just de- 
 scribed, Cromwell had fully established the 
 superiority of the sword over the gown. >So 
 early, indeed, as the month of August, when 
 the parliament seemed disposed to push mat- 
 ters to an extremity, he had marched a portion 
 of his victorious army into Westminster, where 
 he not only restored to their places lord Man- 
 chester, and Mr. Lenthal, speaker of the house 
 of commons, but drove from the latter assem- 
 bly every member of whose principles or de- 
 termination he had cause to be afraid. He 
 now used his influence of his own projects, 
 and the utter ruin of the king, that the nation, 
 which had long begun to regard their sovereign 
 with feelings of compassion, became violently 
 agaitated. 
 
 The apprentices of London ran to arms, and 
 fought more than one skirmish with the regu- 
 lar troops. Kent arose en musse, under 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 105 
 
 Hales and Goring; and Wales and the north- 
 ern counties took up arms, — a measure in 
 which they were promptly followed by Scot- 
 land. Nothing intimidated by these move- 
 ments, Cromwell directed Skipton against the 
 men of Kent; and, leaving Fairfax to hold the 
 metropolitan counties in check, marched him- 
 self into Wales. The raw levies he soon drove 
 from the field; and, though repulsed in an 
 endeavour to carry Pembroke by assault, he 
 besieged and at the end of six weeks reduced 
 it. He then moved by forced marches into 
 Lancashire, where, not far from Preston, he 
 came up with the advance of the Scottish 
 army ; and, attacking it unexpectedly, he 
 brought on a general action, which ended in 
 the total overthrow of the invaders. The 
 truth, indeed, is, that never was an expedition 
 conducted with so little skill or prudence, as 
 that which received its first and final check on 
 the present occasion. With the exception of 
 sir Marmaduke Langdale, there was scarcely 
 an officer of experience rn the army; the men 
 were ill armed, worse paid, and destitute of 
 discipline; while there prevailed in the camp 
 a degree of disunion and part) spirit, which 
 would have paralysed the operations of the 
 greatest military genius. [It is stated by No- 
 ble, that one of Cromwell's sons, Henry, a 
 captain in Harrison's regiment of horse, fell in 
 this action.] 
 
 Following up his successes with character- 
 istic rapidity, Cromwell passed the border, 
 and advanced, without encountering any se- 
 
106 THE LIFE OF 
 
 rious opposition, as fur as Edinburgh. Here 
 he halted; and being well received by the 
 presbyterian party, particularly by Leven and 
 David Leslie, he found little dirhculty in 
 establishing what he was pleased to term or- 
 der throughout. This done, and a corps of 
 select cavalry appointed to keep in check the 
 malignants, Cromwell turned his face towards 
 London, where, during his absence, parlia- 
 ment had again ventured to act independently, 
 by renewing a friendly negotiation with the 
 king. To that an immediate stop was put, so 
 soon as the troops arrived in the vicinity of the 
 capital. 
 
 Finding that the commons persisted in pass- 
 ing bills at variance with his own projects, 
 and those of his friends, Cromwell marched 
 two regiments of horse into Westminster, 
 who seized and imprisoned the leaders of the 
 opposite party, imposed upon the remainder 
 the necessity of silence, and so commanded in 
 the most absolute degree the future delibera- 
 tions of the whole body. The chief actor in 
 this extraordinary scene was colonel Pride, a 
 confidential and personal friend of the gene- 
 ral; and the whole transaction has since re- 
 ceived the familiar denomination of "Pride's 
 Purge." 
 
 It were out of character, in a work like the 
 present, to attempt any account however brief, 
 of the series of remarkable events which led 
 to the seizure, the trial, and execution of the 
 king. As little can we pretend to describe the 
 part, or rather the multiplicity of parts, which 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 107 
 
 Cromwell acted during the progress of that 
 great tragedy. This portion of his biography 
 belongs not to our province; we therefore pass 
 it by, though not without reluctance and re- 
 gret : but we cannot refuse to state, that his 
 conduct throughout was marked by the deep- 
 est dissimulation, by hardihood the most reck- 
 less, and an extraordinary mixture of profound 
 calculation and extravagant levity. 
 
 We find him, for example, on one occasion, 
 ere yet the king had been put upon his trial, 
 engaged in deliberation with the grandees, as 
 they were called, of the house and the army, 
 touching the form of government henceforth to be 
 adopted in England. After listening to the 
 arguments of those around him, "he professed 
 himself," says Ludlow, " unresolved ; and, 
 having learned what he could of the princi- 
 ples and intentions of those present at the con- 
 ference, he took up a cushion, and flung it at 
 my head, and then ran down the stairs." 
 This was, indeed, a strange method of dis- 
 solving an assembly called together to con- 
 sider of matters so grave; yet was it at least 
 equalled in inconsistency by the behaviour 
 of the same man, when required to sign the 
 warrant of his sovereign's execution. Hav- 
 ing laughed and jeered during the period of 
 adjournment, he prefaced his act of regicide 
 by smearing with ink the face of his co-ad- 
 jutor Henry Morton, and permitting Morton 
 to play off" the same practical joke upon him- 
 self. 
 
 Nevertheless we have the best ground for 
 
108 . THE LIFE OF 
 
 asserting, that in the latter case, if not in the 
 former, Cromwell's mirth was forced and un- 
 natural. Sir Purbeck Temple, one of the 
 commissioners appointed to try the king, but 
 who refused to act, tells us, "that, being con- 
 cealed in the painted chamber, he was enabled 
 to watch the conduct of the judges. While 
 they deliberated, news was brought that his 
 majesty had just landed at sir Robert Cotton's 
 slairs; upon which Cromwell, running to the 
 window to look upon him as he advanced up 
 the garden, returned in a moment to his seat, 
 as white as the wall." 
 
 The reasons which have induced us to re- 
 main silent respecting events so memorable, 
 operate to hinder our giving any detail of the 
 numeious and pressing attempts made by in- 
 dividuals and nations to bring over the subject 
 of this memoir, even in part, to the royal 
 cause. It is well known how his cousin, 
 colonel Cromwell, laid before him a sheet of 
 paper, with the signature of the prince of 
 Wales alone inscribed on it, leaving it to him- 
 self to supply the blank, provided only the 
 king's life were saved. It is equally well 
 known how powerfully the proposal moved 
 him; and how desperate was the struggle be- 
 tween a lesser and a greater ambition, before 
 the latter prevailed. But Cromwell felt or 
 fancied that he had already gone so far, that to 
 retreat in safety was impracticable. The envoy, 
 who had withdrawn to his inn, to await there 
 the decision of his relative, received a message, 
 long after midnight, that he might retire to 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 109 
 
 rest; and on the day following Charles 1. per- 
 ished upon the scaffold. 
 
 The following description of the execution 
 of Charles I. is from Robinson's Abridged 
 History of England : — 
 
 "Colonel Harrison, the son of a butcher, and 
 the most furious enthusiast of the army, was 
 despatched with a strong party to conduct the 
 king to London; and it appears, that, at this 
 time, his majesty expected assassination, and 
 could not believe that they really intended to 
 conclude their acts of violence by a public trial 
 and execution. 
 
 All things, however, being adjusted, the his»h 
 court of justice was fully constituted. It con- 
 sisted of one hundred and thirt) -three persona 
 named by the commons; but scarcely more than 
 seventy eyer sat; so difficult was it to engage 
 men of any name or character in that atrocious 
 measure. Cromwell, Ireton, Harrison, and the 
 chief officers of the army, most of them of low 
 birth, were members, together with some of the 
 lower house, and a few citizens of London. 
 The twelve judges were at first appointed in the 
 number ; but as they had affirmed that the pro- 
 ceeding was illegal, their names were struck 
 out. Bradshaw, a lawyer, was chosen presi- 
 dent, and Coke was appointed solicitor to the 
 people of England. 
 
 The court sat in Westminster-hall ; and the 
 king being arraigned for levying war against the 
 parliament, was impeached as a tyrant, traitor, 
 and murderer. Though long detained a pris- 
 oner, a»d now produced as a criminal, Charles 
 
110 THE LITE OF 
 
 •■stained the dignity of a monarch, and with 
 great temper and force, declined the authority 
 of the court. Three times was he brought be- 
 fore his judges, and as often declined their juris- 
 diction. On the fourth, the court having exam- 
 ined some witnesses, by whom it was proved 
 that the king had appeared in arms against the 
 forces commissioned by the parliament, they 
 pronounced sentence against him. 
 
 In this last scene, Charles forgot not his 
 character, either as a man or a prince. Firm 
 and intrepid, he maintained, in each reply, the 
 utmost perspicuity in thought and expression ; 
 mild and equable, he rose into no passion at the 
 unusual authority assumed over him. His soul, 
 without effort or attestation, seemed only to re- 
 main in the situation familiar to it, and to look 
 down with contempt on all the efforts of human 
 malice. The soldiers were brought, though 
 with difficulty, to cry aloud for justice : " Poor 
 souls," siid the king, ** for a little money they 
 would do as much against their commanders." 
 
 Three days only were allowed the king be- 
 tween his sentence and execution ; and this in- 
 terval was passed in reading and devotion, and 
 in conversing with the princess Elizabeth and 
 the duke of Gloucester, who alone of his am 'y 
 remained in England. 
 
 The morning of the fatal day, which was the 
 30th of January, 164S, Charles rose early, an I 
 calling Herbert, one of his attendants, bade him 
 employ more than usual care in dressing him, 
 ni.d preparing him for such a great and joyful 
 solemnity. Juxon, bishop of London, a man 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. Ill 
 
 endowed with the same mild and steady virtues 
 as his Minster, assisted him in his devotions, and 
 paid tlits last melancholy duties to his sovereign. 
 As he was preparing himself for the block, Jux- 
 on said, " There is, sir, but one stage more, 
 which, though turbulent, is yet a very short one. 
 Consider, it will soon carry you a great way : 
 it will carry you from earth to heaven ; and 
 there you shall find, to your great joy, the prize 
 to which you hasten, a crown of glory." " I 
 go," replied the king, " from a corruptible to 
 an incoiruptible crown, where no disturbance 
 can have place." At one blow his head was 
 severed from his body by a man in a visor; and 
 another in a similar disguise, held up to the 
 spectators the head streaming with blood, and 
 cried aloud, "This is the head of a traitor !" 
 • The moment before his execution, Charles 
 had said to Juxon, in an earnest and impressive 
 manner, Remember ; and the generals insisted 
 with the prelate, that he should inform them of 
 the king's meaning. Juxon told them, that the 
 king had charged him to inculcate on his son 
 the forgiveness of his murderers ; a sentiment 
 which in his last speech he had before declared. 
 As a king, Charles was not free from faults ; but 
 as a man, few had ever filled the throne, who 
 were entitled to more unqualified praise." 
 
 No language of ours were adequate to de- 
 scribe the ferment excited in every part of the 
 kingdom, so soon as the bloody event which 
 marked the 30th of January, 1648, became 
 known. Multitudes who had hitherto gone 
 with the stream, under a delusivs expectation 
 
112 THE LIFE OF 
 
 that the formalities of a trial were intended on- 
 ly to force Charles to a compliance with popu- 
 lar feeling, were painfully awakened by it to a 
 sense of their danger; and all, no matter to 
 what party originally attached, became satisfi- 
 ed that the sole object of Cromwell and his con- 
 federates was to abolish monarchy, and to sub- 
 stitute in its room a military form of govern- 
 ment, which should admit neither of king nor 
 house of lords. 
 
 Nor were the proceedings of parliament con- 
 sequent upon the execution slow in testifying 
 to the justice of these apprehensions. The 
 house of commons, after filling up a few 
 vacant seats with members suitable to the de- 
 signs of the faction which governed there, first 
 passed a resolution that no more addresses 
 should be made to the peers; and then de- 
 creed that, as the existence of an upper house 
 was useless and dangerous, it ought to be 
 abolished. Then followed a vote, declaring 
 that monarchy was extinguished in England; 
 next a n«w great seal was engraved, bearing a 
 representation of their own body, with the 
 legend. 
 
 "On the first year of freedom, my God's 
 blessing restored, 1648;" and, last of all, the 
 statues of his majesty being removed both 
 from the Exchange and St. Paul's, the pedestal 
 of the latter was marked by the inscription 
 "Exit Tyrannus, Regum ultimus." [The 
 Tyrant is gone, — the last of the Kings.] 
 
 Thus the constitution fell by the hands of 
 thosa very persons who had been the most 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 1 18 
 
 forward to complain of its abuses and de- 
 mand their redress, a tremendous warning to 
 all nations, in all ages, how perilous it is to in- 
 novate rashly and sweepingly upon long-estab- 
 lished usages, even when these are admitted 
 to be defective in some of their minor opera- 
 tions. 
 
 We pass by the measures now adopted for 
 the administration of public affairs, with sim- 
 ply reminding the reader, that a council of 
 state, which included Cromwell, Bradshaw, 
 and St. John the younger, was nominated to 
 discharge the functions of the executive. From 
 the civil duties thus imposed upon him, Oliver 
 was, however, soon railed away, by the break- 
 ing out of an extensive and daring mutiny in 
 the army. Careful as he had been to fill up 
 the ranks of that hody with men devoted to his 
 own wishes, he had permitted them to learn 
 too much of their own strength, by sanction- 
 ing, if he did not openly establish, their coun- 
 cils of adjutators. The consequence was that, 
 having defeated parliament, and raised the 
 lieutenant-general to his present pitch of pow- 
 er, these very men now ventured to demand 
 that he should immediately descend from it, 
 and that an absolute equality of ranks should 
 be established in the realm. 
 
 Cromwell acted in this trying predicament 
 with his customary decision and firmness. He 
 surrounded one regiment which had hoisted 
 the white cockade, commanded four of the 
 ringleaders to stand forth, caused them to de- 
 cide bv lots which should die, and shot the 
 S 
 
114 THE LIFE OF 
 
 individual chosen on the spot. He then, after 
 compelling the remainder to remove the badge 
 of disaffection from their hats, hastened to Ban- 
 bury, where a much more formidabie revolt 
 had taken place; and coming upon the mu- 
 tineers by surprise, after a march of forty 
 miles performed in one day, cut them to pieces. 
 It is true that the unhappy men had been pre- 
 viously deceived into a neglect of all vigilance, 
 by the assurances »f one of Oliver's agents that 
 their complaints would be patiently investiga- 
 ted ; nevertheless Cromwell saw no reason 
 why they should not suffer the extreme of 
 military execution. They were literally de- 
 stroyed where they lay. 
 
 Having thus restored order, Cromwell return- 
 ed by way of Oxford to London, where the 
 state of Ireland, in open and flagrant rebellion, 
 gave greal uneasiness to his coadjutors in office. 
 It was determined to send a large arm) thither; 
 and Cromwell, after his usual protestations of 
 unfitness and disinclination, consented to take 
 the command. Large sums of money were 
 placed at his disposal : he was endowed with 
 the title and powers of lord lieutenant ; and, 
 followed by 17,000 veterans, he arrived in Dub- 
 lin on the 15th of August, 1649, Cromwell 
 found matters in a hotter state than he had been 
 led to expect. The siege of the capital was 
 raised : Ormond had sustained a defeat ; and 
 the strength of the other party lay chiefly in its 
 fortified towns and well-appointed garrisons. 
 Against these a campaign was immediately 
 opened, Which if remarkable for the severity 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 115 
 
 with which it was conducted, is not less remar- 
 kable on account of its vigour and success. 
 Drogheda, with a garrison of nearly 3000 men, 
 was, after a few days of open trenches, taken 
 by assault ; and every soul found in arms, with 
 multitudes whose only crime was their religion, 
 were butchered. This occurred on the loth of 
 September; and on the 20th Wexford was in- 
 vested. Here, treason not less than torce was 
 employed; for an officer attached to the garri- 
 son admitted, during a parley, a portion of the 
 parliamentary forces into their citadel. In a 
 moment the assault was given ; and unarmed 
 men and helpless women, equally with soldiers, 
 died in the indiscriminating slaughter, which 
 followed the defeat of the defenders. After 
 such terrible examples, no town or castle, ven- 
 tured to hold out. Cromwell passed from place 
 to place in a species of triumph, suffering more 
 from sickness and the weather than from the 
 swords of the enemy ; nor was it till the middle 
 of December that he finally withdrew into win- 
 ter quarters. 
 
 The first day of February, 1650, found this 
 indefatigable warrior again in the field ; and 
 again were all his efforts crowned with a de- 
 gree of success hitherto without a parallel. 
 Kilkenny, it is true, made a gallant defence, 
 repelling one attempt to storm, and submitting 
 at last on capitulation; while the garrison of 
 Clonmell, after successfully resisting an assault, 
 contrived to escape from the place : but the 
 place itself was taken, as was almost every 
 other strong hold in possession either of the 
 
116 THE LIFE OF 
 
 royalist or native partisans. At length Oliver 
 drew towards Waterford, of which he was pre- 
 paring to form the seige, when information of 
 serious movements elsewhere came in, accom- 
 panied by an urgent entreat) from his friends in 
 London, that he would hurry over to the sup- 
 port of the commonwealth. Cromwell did not 
 pause to deliberate. Investing Ireton with the 
 chief command, and formally nominating him 
 deputy, he hastened to England, where he found 
 that his presence had never been more press- 
 ingly needed. 
 
 The Scots, ashamed of their own baseness in 
 delivering up Charles I. to his murderers, and 
 no wise disposed to receive the new form of 
 government set up in London, had for some 
 time back been intriguing with the prince of 
 Wales, whom they were prepared to acknowl- 
 edge as their sovereign, provided lie would sub- 
 scribe the solemn league and covenant, and 
 abandon Montrose^ and his friends. Charles, 
 though not oppressed with the scruples which 
 actuated his father, was yet unwilling to throw 
 himself upon a body whom he personally ab- 
 horred, and resisted, for a while, all the efforts 
 of the presbyterians, to bring him over to their 
 wishes. 
 
 The failure of Montrose, however, and the 
 desperate state of his affairs in Ireland, at last 
 prevailed upon him to give way; and he came 
 over to Scotland, where he was welcomed 
 with a strange mixture of popular enthusiasm 
 and fanatical reproach. An army was prompt- 
 ly raised, of which the command was given to 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 117 
 
 Leslie, an officer second to none of his day in 
 skill and experience; and preparations were 
 made to advance into England, where a pow- 
 erful party, it was presumed, would rally 
 round him. Such was the state of public af- 
 fairs, when, in the month of June, Cromwell 
 arrived in London; and, amid the plaudits of a 
 giddy crowd and the congratulations of an 
 obsequious senate, took his seat in the house 
 of commons. 
 
 The great question immediately introduced 
 related to the most efficacious means of resist- 
 ing the invasion with which the realm was 
 threatened. The Scots, by proclaiming prince 
 Charles king of Scotland, England, Ireland, 
 and France, had virtually declared war against 
 the commonwealth; and it now remained to be 
 seemed by what steps the danger would be 
 met. Cromwell gave it as his decided opinion, 
 that the only certain method of avoiding the 
 misery of war at home, was to anticipate the 
 enemy by carrying it into their own country; 
 and the parliament sanctioning the proposition, 
 and voting the employment of a large army in 
 the service, the command was, as justice re- 
 quired, offered to Fairfax, still nominally the 
 commander in chief of the parliamentary forces; 
 but Fairfax, though a misguided, was truly an 
 honest man. A rigid presbyterian, and a 
 steady adherent to the solemn league and cov- 
 enant, he could not so regulate his conscience 
 as to disguise from himself the enormity of 
 bearing arms against the supporters of his own 
 principles; and he resisted, in consequence, 
 
116 THE LIFE OF 
 
 every entreaty both of Cromwell and the house 
 to bias his more sober judgment. We leave 
 to others the task <f accounting for the ex- 
 treme energy of Cromwell on this occasion : 
 we content ourselves with observing, that in 
 proportion as the general's resolution appeared 
 immovable, the efforts of the lieutenant-gene- 
 ral to shake it increased, till tears themselves 
 (no unusual argument with Oliver) were em- 
 ployed to no purpose. At last Fairfax was 
 permitted to resign; and Cromwell, amid loud 
 and frequent expressions of sorrow that so 
 heavy a load should be imposed upon him, was 
 advanced to the highest military station in the 
 commonwealth. 
 
 Equally prompt in devising as in the execu- 
 tion of his plans, Cromwell lost not a moment 
 in equipping a fleet, which he loaded with pro- 
 visions, and directed to move along the coast 
 for the purpose of providing against any scarci- 
 ty which might occur. He then gave orders 
 that the army, which had already concentrated 
 at York, should set out towards the border; 
 and, on the 29th, began his own journey for 
 the purpose of overtaking it. At what precise 
 time this event befell, we have been unable to 
 ascertain. 
 
 On the 11th of July, however, the troops, 
 which had quitted York a fortnight previously, 
 encamped 'within eighteen miles of Berwick; 
 and, on the 22d, the whole, filing through that 
 town, bivouacked on a open plain in the vicini- 
 ty of Mordington-house. Here strict orders 
 were issued that the men should be restrained 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 119 
 
 from every act of violence towards the unre- 
 sisting inhabitants; and, a proclamation being 
 drawn up with the design of soothing the alarm 
 of the Scottish people, strenuous efforts were 
 made to force it into circulation. But Crom- 
 well soon found that he had entered a country 
 where he would be called upon to contend, 
 not only against the valour of armed bands, but 
 against an enraged population. Every village 
 was deserted, except by a few of the women, 
 the aged, and the children. Not a morsel of 
 food for men or grain for horses was left; and 
 in some places the very hovels were burned to 
 the ground, evidently by their desperate own- 
 ers. 
 
 It was to no purpose that the general strove, 
 under such circumstances, to make his humane 
 intentions known; seeing that all who might 
 have been acted upon by them were fled, leav- 
 ing a desert behind. He therefore marched 
 on, no enemy showing themselves, except an 
 occasional party of horse, some of whom, 
 venturing to engage his patrols, were made* 
 prisoners; till he arrived at Musselburgh, on 
 the 28th, about noon, and there took up his 
 quarters. 
 
 While Cromwell was thus preparing to carry 
 fire and sword into the heart of Scotland, his 
 adversaries were neither unmindful of the 
 perils to which they were exposed, nor remiss 
 in preparing to meet them. About sixteen 
 thousand foot and six thousand horse were as- 
 sembled, of which something less than five 
 thousand had seen service before; which, es- 
 
12© THE LIFE OF 
 
 tablishing themselves in position so as to cover 
 the approaches to Edinburgh, laid waste, as 
 we have just stated, the whole country be- 
 tween their lines and the border. The minis- 
 ters and chiefs of this levy failed not to add 
 the weight of their misrepresentations to the 
 hostility which as yet existed between the two 
 nations. They described Cromwell as anti- 
 christ, who came to destroy the true faith; as 
 a monster of cruelty, who spared neither age 
 nor sex in his wrath; and they so wrought up- 
 on the imaginations of the people at large, that 
 the recommendation to abandon their houses 
 was every where followed. Hence it arose, 
 that the invaders were compelled to endure 
 heavy privations, even while advancing 
 "with the steps of conquerors;" and hence, 
 so soon as the slightest check occurred, they 
 were liable to perish utterly, should their 
 supplies, by stress of weather chance to fail 
 them. 
 
 Cromwell permitted his army to rest only 
 during the afternoon and ni«ht of that day on 
 which he arrived at -Musselburgh. At an early 
 hour on the following morning his columns 
 were again in motion; nor did any great while 
 elapse ere the two armies arrived in presence 
 of one another. The Scots, possns-ing the 
 strong fort of Leith, which secured them ef- 
 fectually on their left from being turned, ex- 
 tended along the side of the Calton Hill, and 
 crossing what is now the great road to Lon- 
 don, so as to rest their right upon the castle, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 121 
 
 were covered on every assailable point by re- 
 doubts and breastworks. 
 
 Their outposts occupied the declivity of 
 Arthur's Seat, and tbe roots of the Salisbury 
 Crags, besides lining the wall of the King's 
 Park; while their guus, advantageously posted 
 on every eminence, ranged by a cross line of 
 fire, from one end of the position to another. 
 Cromwell saw and justly estimated the formid- 
 able posture in which his enemies awaited him. 
 Having driven in the pickets, and wasted a 
 few hours in a distant and not very destructive 
 cannonade, he ordered his men to pile their 
 arms; and the English passed the night around 
 watchfiies hastily lighted, in the open fields, 
 without either food or shelter. 
 
 Hopeless of suovess should he hazard an at- 
 tack on such a line, and destitute of all sup- 
 plies necessary to maintain him where he was, 
 Cromwell issued orders, two hours before 
 dawn, for the army to retire. The rearmost 
 divisions were already approaching Mussel- 
 burgh, and those nearest to the enemy had 
 unitted the ground, when a strong corps of 
 Scottish cavalry furiously assailed them, over- 
 whelming by superior numbers the squadrons 
 left to cover the retreat, and making some 
 prisoners. 
 
 Fresh troops soon arrived to reinforce the 
 parliamentarians, and a fierce and obstinate af- 
 fair ensued, which ended in the total repulse 
 of the Scots, with heavy loss. Yet were the 
 latter far from dispirited. The weather hav- 
 ing broken, they saw the invaders drenched 
 
122 THE LIFE 0£ 
 
 with rain, and knew that they must suffer 
 severely in other respects. They accordingly 
 made a second attempt, on the following morn- 
 ing to penetrate with a select corps into .Mus- 
 selburgh; and they were not beaten back till 
 after a sanguinary action, in which great gal- 
 lantry was displayed on both sides. Never- 
 theless Cromwell, though again victorious, 
 judged it prudent to continue his retrogression 
 as far as Dunbar, whither the fleet had at 
 length arrived ; and the Scots, overawed 
 by their reverses in the last two encounters, 
 offered no serious opposition to the move- 
 ment. 
 
 The last march was performed between the 
 6th and the 13th of August. On the 17th, 
 after receiving ample supplies of all kinds, the 
 army again advanced and took up a new posi- 
 tion among the Pentland Hills, from whence 
 they threatened the line of communication be- 
 tween Edinburgh and the western counties. 
 For such a contingency it soon appeared that 
 Leslie had not been unprepared. Between 
 the Pentland Hills and the road to Stirling 
 there is a strath or valley, though which runs 
 the little river of Leith, and which, in those 
 days, was one vast bog, impassable, except at 
 intervals, even for men on foot. Behind this 
 Leslie drew up his men, leaving small garri- 
 sons in Collinton, Redhall, Delhousie, Craig- 
 mellar, and other castellated mansions, all of 
 which annoyed the English as they approach- 
 ed, and rendered them extremely uneasy as to 
 the safety of their convoys and stores. These 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 12S 
 
 places Cromwell was compelled to invest, 
 without being able to reduce any of them; 
 while between his horse and that of the Scots 
 constant affairs took place, not always to the 
 advantage of the southerns. 
 
 There were, moreover, some encounters be- 
 tween the musketeers on either side, with a 
 good deal of cannonading from one edge of the 
 morass to the other; but in the end the Eng- 
 lish were fain to fall back upon the Pentlands, 
 while the Scots filed again into the lines in 
 Front of Edinburgh. Finally, Cromwell, los- 
 ing great numbers by sickness, and despairing 
 of success, retreated upon Musselburgh, being 
 followed and harassed at every step by Les- 
 lie's horse; from whence he continued his 
 march, first upon Haddington, and ultimately 
 to his grand depot, the town of Dunbar. 
 
 That Leslie was so far completely successful 
 in this cainpaign every reader must perceive; 
 indeed, that the parliamentarians were not un- 
 conscious of the perilous plight in which they 
 stood, the following extract from captain Hodg- 
 son's memoir may suffice to prove. Speaking 
 of the continued retrogression from Hodding- 
 ton, he says, — 
 
 "We staid until about ten o'clock ; had 
 been at prayer in several regiments; sent away 
 our wagons and carriages towards Dunbar; 
 and not long afterwards marched, a poor, 
 shattered, hungry, discouraged army; and the 
 Scots pursued so very ciose, that our rear- 
 guard had much ado to secure our poor weak 
 foot that was not able to march up. We 
 
124 THE LIFE OF 
 
 drew near Dunbar towards night, and the 
 Scots ready to fall upon our rear; two guns 
 played upon them, and so they drew off and 
 left us that night, having got us into a pound 
 as they reckoned." 
 
 Nor was this opinion grounded upon any 
 serious misapprehension ; the invaders were 
 indeed in "a pound," from which, but for the 
 folly of the ministers who accompanied the 
 Scots, and the influence which they unhappi- 
 ly possessed among the troops, not all the 
 skill of Cromwell himself could have delivered 
 them. 
 
 Dunbar, a seaport town, lies in a valley sur- 
 rounded on three sides by an amphitheatre of 
 kills, in which there are two narrow open- 
 ings; one on the north, the other on the south,* 
 where the road passes from Berwick to Edin- 
 burgh. Of these hills, as well as of both the 
 pass-es, the Scots were in actual possession; 
 and the labour of a few hours would have 
 sufficed to throw up such works, as, with their 
 superior numbers, might have defied the ut- 
 most exertions of their enemies. It was the 
 ardent desire of Leslie to adopt this plain and 
 obvious course ; but Leslie's authority was, 
 after all, but as dust in the balance when 
 compared with that of the fanatical preach- 
 ers. 
 
 These proclaimed aloud that the Lord had 
 delivered antichrist into the hands of his peo- 
 ple : th^y exhorted the soldiers, at morning 
 and evening exercise, to march down in the 
 might of the Most High; and reminding them 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 125 
 
 how Gideon had wrought salvation for Israel, 
 and assuring them of a like result, were not 
 sparing in their abuse of the over-caution of 
 Leslie, whom they openly accused of luke- 
 wannness in the cause of the covenant. By 
 these means the men became inflamed to the 
 highest pitch of fury : no reasoning on the part 
 of the general would be listened to, and they 
 insisted upon attacking the enemy where he lay, 
 instead of waiting quietly till famine and sick- 
 ness, both of which raged within his camp, 
 should compel him to surrender at ^discretion. 
 Nor was this all. In the exuberance of fanati- 
 cal zeal, they not only sent the king to the rear, 
 but insisted upon purgiug the army of all nialig- 
 nants ; in other words, prohibited any of the 
 oldest and most experienced soldiers, the rough 
 but gallant cavaliers, from taking part in the ac- 
 tion. Never, surely, was folly more egregious, 
 and never was the punishment of folly more 
 prompt or more complete. 
 
 It was the 1st of September, when Crom- 
 well's army entered Dunbar : the whole of the 
 2d was passed under arms, with the ardent, but 
 as yet baseless hope, that the enemy would 
 abandon their strong ground and risk a battle on 
 the plain. The same night a council of war 
 was held, in which the propriety of embarking 
 the foot, and striving to force a passage for the 
 horse, was debated ; but, the wind being bois- 
 terous, and the surf running high, the project 
 was pronounced altogether inadmissible. It was 
 next suggested, as a sort of forlorn hope, that a 
 strong reconnoissance should be pushed a little 
 
126 THE LIFE OF 
 
 before dawn, In the direction of the right ; and 
 that according to the result of this movement 
 future operations should be guided. No deter- 
 mination could have been formed more fortu- 
 nate for the out-generalled English. Thut very 
 morning, the advice of the fanatics prevailing, 
 the Scots were in march down the southern 
 pass to attack the invaders; and the two col- 
 umn^ met midway between the hills and sea, 
 not far from Roxburgh-house. A fierce and 
 sanguinary action ensued, during which the two 
 lines of Infantry fought hand to hand, till the 
 English cavalry, charging with prodigious effect, 
 put the Scots absolutely to the rout. 
 
 The following anecdote, given by captain 
 Hodgson in his memoirs, appears to us full of 
 interest. The English cavalry had charged and 
 shaken the Scots ; when " the general himself ! 
 conies in the rear of our regiment, and com- 
 mands to incline to the left, that is, to take more 
 ground to be clear of all bodies : and we did so; 
 and horse and foot were engaged all over the 
 field, and the Scots all in confusion. And the 
 sun appearing upon the sea, I heard Knoll say, 
 4 Now let God arise, and his enemies shall be 
 scattered ;' and he following us, as we slowly 
 marched, I heard him say, ' I profess they run,' 
 and there was the Scots army all in disorder 
 and running, both right wing and left, and main 
 battle." There is something almost poetical in 
 the employment of such language, at a moment 
 so critical ; and that it had its full effect upon 
 the enthusiasts whom Cromwell commanded, 
 admits not of a doubt. What a subject foi a 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 127 
 
 painter acquainted with the wild scenery of that 
 coast !' 
 
 Now it was that the very excess of numbers 
 told against them : broken in front, on a piece 
 of ground so rugged that the fugitives could not 
 escape except by overthrowing those that would 
 have supported them, the whole of the Scottish 
 right was irretrievably Tuined ; while the Eng- 
 lish, following them close in the rear, gained the 
 ridge, and completely turned the position. A 
 disgraceful and murderous rout instantly began. 
 The left of the Scots, which Cromwell's well- 
 directed artillery had kept in check, seeing them- 
 selves approached on equal terms, fled without 
 striking a blow; while the centre, already more 
 than half defeated by a charge of the English 
 horse, precipitately quitted their ground. Of all 
 the victories won by Cromwell, that of Dunbar 
 was, beyond comparison, at once the most im- 
 portant and the most complete. His prisoners 
 alone amounted to 3000 or 4000 ; upwards of 
 800 men lay dead on the field; and the entire 
 park of the enemy, amounting to thirty pieces, 
 fell into his hands. Yet was it a conquest for 
 which, perhaps, less than any other, he was in- 
 debted to his own genius and foresight. Mad 
 Leslie been permitted to act upon his original 
 plans, the possibility of fighting under circum- 
 stances such as occurred never would have been 
 afforded; for once, therefore, Cromwell spoke 
 the truth, when he denied that any share of the 
 merit attaching to the achievement belonged to 
 him. 
 
 This great victory was ne sooner secured, 
 
128 THE LIFE OF 
 
 than Cromwell, after calling upon the country 
 people by public proclamation to remove the 
 wounded and take care of them, began his 
 march upon Edinburgh. The city immediate- 
 ly opened its gates; but the Castle refusing to 
 surrender, the care of reducing it by process 
 of siege was intrusted to a division of the army; 
 while Oliver, with ;he remainder, moved 
 leisurely in the direction of Stirling, whither 
 the Scots had retreated. 
 
 On the 14th of September, head-quarters 
 were established at Niddery. a village about 
 eight miles to the westward of the capital. 
 
 On the 15th, the column which had passed 
 Linlithgow, was compelled by stress of weather 
 to return and pass the night there. 
 
 The 16th found them at Falkirk, a royal 
 residence, of which the palace being filled with 
 gentlemen, refused to open its gates; though the 
 garrison freely consented to abstain from harass- 
 ing the English convoys, provided they were 
 themselves permitted to rest quiet till after Stir- 
 ling should submit : and next day Cromwell, 
 quartering many of his men in the church of St. 
 Ninians, sent forward a trumpeter to summon 
 Stirling. A bold answer was returned to the 
 message, and the invader made dispositions to 
 try the fortune of an assault ; but the place w s 
 found, on examination, too strong, and the idea 
 was abandoned. 
 
 The season was now far advanced, and a 
 constant succession of heavy rains began seri- 
 ously to affect the health of the troops. Crom- 
 well, who determined to eive them rest, accord- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 12» 
 
 ingly began his march to the rear, and, first es- 
 tablishing a phice of arms in Linlithgow, with- 
 drew with the mass of his people into Edin- 
 burgh. Here the siege of the Castle, which had 
 hitherto languished, was pressed with great vig- 
 our. Mines were run under the walls with so 
 much address that their existence remained a 
 secret to the garrison until the chambers had 
 b.ien loaded, and in the end, on Christmas eve, 
 after a siege of little more than two months, the 
 place submitted. 
 
 Whether the event arose from other causes 
 thin the skill and diligence of Oliver's engineers 
 has been variously and contradictorily stated. 
 There are not wanting historians who accuse 
 Dundas the governor of betraying his trust for 
 money; there are others who represent him as a 
 timid man, on whom the distracted condition of 
 his own parly operated in a degree too power- 
 ful for his integrity; while a third class assert 
 that he was wrought upon by the theological 
 communications of Oliver, who took care to 
 wrest Scripture and scriptural phrases boldly 
 to his own purposes. How far any one of 
 these statements may have in it a tincture of 
 truth we arc not prepard to determine; we only 
 know, that of the act of surrender itself, no 
 man has spoken except in terms of disapproba- 
 tion. 
 
 Thus master of the prime bulwark of Scot- 
 - land, Cromwell employed himself, during the 
 remainder of the winter, as well in endeavour- 
 ing to gain over a party in the nation to his ends, 
 a§ in subduing a few forts along the shores of 
 
 
130 THE LIFE OF 
 
 the Firth of Forth; nnd reducing, by desultory 
 inroads, the more refractory of the southern dis- 
 tricts. As spring drew on, however, he pro- 
 posed again to take the field in earnest ; but, 
 being seized with an ague, he was daring main 
 week-; not oniv confined to hid chamber, but to 
 his bed. He was sedulously attended all the 
 vvniie by two phxsicians, whom tiie parliament 
 in its great ze d had despatch. -d to hi> .-issu- 
 ance ; and, either through tlieir skill, or by the 
 excellence of his Hun constitution, he rw.over- 
 ed. Nevertheless, the 1st of July arrived ere 
 he found hin-; -if in a condition to eneure ihe 
 fatigues of a campaign; and even then his health 
 cannot be salil to nave been perfect I) re-i sl.b- 
 lished 
 
 Of the leasure thus afforded, the royalists, if 
 such they deserve to be railed, scarce!) Ii ;.dc 
 all the use which ought have been exp.ei^d. 
 The preachers, attributing their recent reverses, 
 not to their i*wn officious anil inpei tmeiu n in- 
 ference, but to the anger of the Lt»rd b- cms. of 
 the presence of malignant* in the camp, busied 
 themselves in expelling from the arn.\ almost 
 ev.T\ niH • r and soldier wllos»» ftkHI or.\|.. ri- 
 ence qualified him to direct the movement of 
 raw levies, or animate them by his example. 
 
 L--S Its .ui.iir- W i- p .1 •■i.lllL'O to i I ill i I- i clll- 
 
 mand, and Leslie was it is true, a host ; I ut 
 even he found hin.se, f crippled in lire exeruiitin 
 of complicated it auceuvres by lite Mbsenre . f 
 such -uhnrilin it.-s as he could trust. Neverlhr- 
 les« he look post in a siroug position ho id ile 
 openings of the Tor-wood, which enabled him 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. Iffl 
 
 to command both the approaches to Stirling and 
 the great road into the more western counties ; 
 and there lie stood ready either to receive a 
 buttle, or to thwart such attempts as might be 
 made to separate him from his supplies. 
 
 Jt was early in the second week of July when 
 Cromwell made his appearance; his people oc- 
 cupying Falkirk, Linlithgow, and all the villages 
 and seats in the neighbourhood? His first de- 
 sign was to push along the direct line to Stir- 
 ling; and in the atten.pt to accomplish it many 
 smart sUirn.ishes took place, Lut Leslie had so 
 posted his battalions, that they could not be ap- 
 proached except under every imaginable disad- 
 vantage; and Cromwell was too prudent a com- 
 mander to throw away the lives of his men to 
 no purpose. He accordingly manoeuvred so as 
 to turn the right of l ho Scottish line, and thus 
 penetrate, by Kilsyth and the northern parts of 
 Lanarkshire, towards the Grampians; hut here, 
 again, the vigilance and activiu of Leslie were 
 displayed, and Oliver was a second time foiled. 
 One resource alone remained, and it was hazard- 
 ous; yet he resolved to embrace it. He sud- 
 denly marched a corps towards Queensferrv, 
 which seized the craft tying upon the rtverjand,, 
 crossing into Fifeshire, threatened the rear of 
 the Scottish army, as well as all the northern 
 ami some of the western counties. Even against 
 this emergency Leslie had not failed to provide; 
 for general Holbourne was in Fife, at the head 
 of 2500 men, between whom and Lambe t, tiie 
 co nmander of Oliver's detachment-, a fierce 
 congest ensued. Had Lambert sustained a de- 
 
1SJ THE LIFE OF 
 
 feat, no exertion of talent, nothing short of in- 
 fatuation among the Scots themselves, could 
 have saved Oliver from destruction. His army, 
 origin. illy less numerous than that of Leslie, was 
 now so weakened, that, had the latter been en- 
 abled to act agaiu»t him with his whole force, 
 he must have overwhelmed him ; and a retreat 
 into England, over a desert country, and in tho 
 presence of a victorious and infuriated enemy, 
 would have been impracticable. IJut the for- 
 tune of Cromwell did not forsake him. Altera 
 severe struggle, in which victory n ore than 
 once inclined to the side of the Suots, llol- 
 bourne's men gave way, and were pursued, 
 with prodigious slaughter, by the parliamenta- 
 rians. Cromwell made haste to turn the victo- 
 ry to account, by acting upon the new line 
 which it opened out to him. He withdrew si- 
 lently from Leslie's front, gained Queensferry 
 unnoticed, and passing the Forth, with his 
 whole army, marched rapidly towards Perth. 
 
 On the last day of July the English arrived 
 before the town, and began, without loss of 
 ti tie, to push their approaches: It was a place 
 of no strength, being surrounded mereh by an 
 old w;*ll, and commanded on all sides within 
 less than half cannon shot ; at the end ol two 
 days, therefore, after a triHing loss on both 
 sides, it opened its gates. Bat the satisfaction 
 arising out of this fresh conquest was over- 
 clouded almost as soon as felt by the receipt 
 of a very unlooked-for piece of intelligence front 
 the vicinity of Stirling. Cromwell was hus\ 
 superintending the erection of a new citadel, by 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 133 
 
 rtiriKfl of which he designed to hold the city in 
 subjection, vvh -n information reached him, that 
 the king had suddenly broken up his camp at 
 Tor-wood, and was now in rapid march to- 
 wards the border. It was stated, moreover, 
 that not the northern counties of England only, 
 but the midland, and even the southern dis- 
 tricts, were all ripe for revolt, and that crowds 
 of partisans wailed but the appearance of the 
 royal standard in order to rally round it. Reso- 
 lute as Cromwell was, his correspondence at 
 this time indicates that he beheld the aspect 
 which affairs had assumed not w ithout alarm. 
 Yet was he far from despairing. lie wrote, on 
 the contrary, to the executive, in terms of earn- 
 est solicitation,' it is true, but his language was 
 not the less bold and manly ; while; he suggest- 
 ed such measures as appeared best calculated 
 Jo avert the fury of a storm, of the possible ef- 
 fects of which he made no concealment, lie 
 directed the militias and trained bands to be 
 everv where called out ; he advised a strict 
 watch, to be kept over the movements of sus- 
 pected persons ; and he caused proclamations to 
 be marie, warning the people of the dangers to 
 which thev might, by possibility, be exposed. 
 Finally, he issued orders for the prompt afsem- 
 bling of a corps of observation, which should 
 hang upon the steps of the royalists, and im- 
 pede their progress, without permitting itself to 
 be drawn into a battle ; and as the means of 
 organising such a force lav, as it were, within 
 reach, no difficulty in accomplishing that part of 
 his project was experienced. 
 
134 THE LIFE OF 
 
 It chanced that at this time Thompson occu- 
 pied Newcastle, with nine battalions ol* infantry, 
 and a few guns. Cromwell ordered the whole 
 of his own c.ivalry, under Lambert to push, by 
 forced marches, upon the same point ; and in- 
 structed the generals, so soon as junction should 
 be formed, to throw themselves boldly in the 
 king's way. As Charles had taken the wes- 
 tern road, by Carlisle, no difficulty was expe- 
 rienced in fulfilling the first of these commands; 
 while the second was aecon plished just as the 
 cavaliers were about to pass the Mersey. The 
 republicans had, moreover, by Carrying the 
 militias along with them, swelled the amount of 
 their force to the .amount of nine thousand men; 
 and, encouraged partly by that circumstance, 
 partly by the issue of a skirmish at Wignn, 
 Where lord Derbv sustained n defeat from colo- 
 nel Lilburne, they made a dash to destroy the 
 bridge. Hut in this they failed, the advance of 
 the royalists being id ready in possession ; nor 
 were they more successful in an effort to arrest 
 the progress of the king bv a show of hazard- 
 ing a battle. A few f.harges of cavalry alone 
 took place, from which no result whatever ac- 
 crued ; f>r it was neither the interest nor the 
 design of Charles to weaken his force, b\ fight- 
 ing thus fir from the capital lie took no no- 
 lice whatever of the displav which the republi- 
 cans made ; but finding the road open, passed 
 rapidly, yet in good order, to his front. 
 
 Though he had now traversed a considerable 
 portion of England, the recruits which came in- 
 to the ranliu of the udventurouj monarch were 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 185 
 
 scarcely sufficient to repair the losses which he 
 sustained l>\ desertion. '1 he friends of ro\ alty, 
 either ;,ept down by the altitude or their ene- 
 mies, or weary of civil war, and anxious to put 
 an end to it at any cost, hung buck in most 
 quarters from the fulfilment of their promises ; 
 while, in others, the fanatical perverseness of 
 the preachers who accompanied his hosts, drove 
 fro i: his standard multitudes who desired to 
 join it. These bigots would not degrade their 
 cause bv permitting any persons to fight for the. 
 kins v\ ho would not consent, first of all, to suh- 
 scrihe to the •' covenant ;" and here not episco- 
 palians or catholics only, hut the more moderate 
 of the Lancashire prcshvterians, were rudely 
 rejected. The consequence was, that Charles 
 marched on witiiout getting the slightest addi- 
 tion to his strength ; for even Derby, while 
 conducting r three hundred men from the Isle of 
 Man, permitted himself to be surprised and de- 
 feated. Still hope did rmt desert, him. He 
 hurried to Worcester, where he was immediate- 
 ly proclaimed king, amid the hasty rejoicings 
 of trie gentry; and where, partly that he might 
 rest his people, worn out hy recent exert ions, 
 pirtlv under the expectation that the Welsh 
 would hasten in crowds to his standard, he halt- 
 ed. It was an unwise, and, as the event prov- 
 ed, a most disastrous determination. Had he 
 continued to press on, there was no force be- 
 tween hi ii and the capital capable of delaying 
 his progress six hours ; and the possession of 
 London, even at this juncture, might have turn- 
 ed the tide of fortune in his favour. But the 
 
136 THE LIFE OF 
 
 truth appears to be, that the hardihood which 
 had sustained both men and officers so far be- 
 gan at length to give way. They saw around 
 them a population, if not hostile, at least indif- 
 ferent ; of the hopes held out by the more san- 
 guine of their friends, not one had been releas- 
 ed ; and the means of escape, in the event of 
 disaster, came to be considered not less anx- 
 iously than those of victory. But, however ju- 
 dicious it might have been to weigh these chances 
 maturely, while yet their inroad was among the 
 things of the future, to look to aught except its 
 accomplishment, now that they were fairly em- 
 barked in it, urged a deficiency, not more of 
 courage than of prudence. They had deliber- 
 ately taken up a desperate game : their very 
 existence depended on playing it to the last. 
 card. 
 
 While Charles was thus lingering at Worces- 
 ter, Cromwell urged his pursuit with character- 
 istic activity ; and swelled the amount of his 
 means from day to day, by carrying along with 
 him all the militias and trained bands from the 
 t3wns and districts in the north. On the 20th 
 he reached Doncaster : on the 22d he entered 
 Nottingham ; and proceeding thence by Coven- 
 try and Strutford-on-A von, he arrived on the 
 26th at Evesham. From tin- place hia patrols 
 soon took op a communication wiih the corps 
 under Lambert and Harrison; imd, on the 2Sth, 
 the whole, amounting to littk >hoit of 30,060 
 men, were in position within two miles of 
 Worcester. There Cromwell, without left* of 
 time, matured his plans from bringing matters to 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 137 
 
 the issue of a general action ; rind as the royal- 
 ists no linger possessed the means to avoid a 
 battle, they in like mannerstood ready to accept 
 it when offered. 
 
 Having approached his enemy from the east, 
 Cromwell saw himself cut off from giving an 
 immediate assault by the waters of the Severn, 
 along the right bank of which the city of Wor- 
 cester is built. He found, moreover, that the 
 bridges, both above and below the town, were 
 broken ; that every boat and punt had been re- 
 moved; and that Charles watched, with becom- 
 ing jealousv, the whole conrse of the stream. 
 In like manner, an extensive line of fires gave 
 notice that the heights around the town were 
 occupied in force ; and the reports of the coun- 
 try people warned him to expect an obstinate 
 and even a desperate resistance. But Crom- 
 well knew that in point of numbers he exceed- 
 ed the loyalists so much, that what, under oth- 
 er circumstances, would have savoured of rash- 
 ness, might, in the present case, be attempted 
 with every probability of success. He formed 
 the daring resolution; therefore, to throw him- 
 self astride upon two rivers : to force a passage, 
 not only on the Severn, hut on the Team ; and, 
 coming down upon the city from the high 
 grounds which overlook it on the west and 
 north, to cut off all retreat from the royalists. 
 This was a plan worthy of the genius of Crom- 
 well, and it succeeded beyond even his most 
 sanguine expectations. 
 
 The interval between the 28th of August and 
 the 3d of September was devoted in part to the 
 
188 THE LIFE OF 
 
 preparing of materials for the construction of a 
 bridge of ho its, in part to the accomplishment 
 
 of certain military operations preliminary to the 
 grand movement. From Stratford, U arwick, 
 and other places on the Avon, c«»bbies were 
 conveyed over land on cars, till a sufficient 
 number was brought together for the purpose 
 immediately in view. Meanwhile a body of 
 horse, under Lilhurne, inarched up thu Severn, 
 and, seizing liewdley bridge, established posts 
 of- observation along the great line of retreat to 
 the north. On the 3d, a<£iin, a still more im- 
 portant manoeuvre occurred. While Cromwe I 
 diverted the attention of the royalists by a dis- 
 play of troops opposite the town, general Lam- 
 bert suddenly led a division towards Upton, 
 of which the bridge had been cut only in part, 
 and its defence intrusted to general Masse v. 
 Lambert attacked his opponent with uncon- 
 ceivable fury. Though a single plank traver- 
 sed the stream, his pikemen pushed steadily 
 onwards, while his cannon and musketeers 
 swept the space in their front, and his cavalry 
 m ale repeated attempts to gain the opposite 
 bank by swimming. For some time the com- 
 bat was maintained on both sides with great 
 obstinacy. Maasey felt that this was the key 
 of his master's position, and he maintained it 
 with the gallantry of a devoted partisan; but 
 he received, at last, a severe wound, and was 
 carried from the field. A panic instantly seiz- 
 ed his troops. After having repeatedly driven 
 the republicans from the very end of the plank, 
 all steadiness now forsook them, and they re- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 139 
 
 treated, currying their disabled chief along with 
 them, in the utmost confusion. In a moment 
 Lambert had won the opposite bank; the broken 
 arch was promptly and sufficiently repaired; 
 and before nightfall, ten thousand ohoscd men 
 took their ground along the course of the 
 Team. 
 
 Alarmed by these movements, Charles basiled 
 orders for the destruction of the bridges mi the 
 latter stream ; and, at an early hour in the 
 morning of the 1st, they were obeyed. Still 
 the calculations of Cromwell had been accu- 
 rately made, and their resulls were certain. 
 He directed Feetwood, to whom the guidance 
 of the detached corps was now intrusted, at all 
 hazards to re-establish the bridges, and, after 
 a good deal of skirmishing, the Team was 
 every where crossed 
 
 Finally, a bridge of boats was thrown upon 
 the Severn, about half a mile below the town; 
 a direct line of communication between the 
 wings of the army was established; and the 
 king's troops, hemmed in on all sides, lay ex- 
 posed either to a disastrous b..ttle, or to the 
 equally sure though more tedious process of 
 reduction by investment. 
 
 We have given the numbers of Cromwell's 
 army, inclusive of militia and trained bands, at 
 thirty thousand men; that of the king scarcely 
 cnme up to thirteen thousand; and the reader 
 will naturally ask why, with such a superiori- 
 ty, the parliamentary general should have 
 scrupled to adopt the more safe as well as the 
 more humane process, of ending the war by 
 
UO THE LIFE OF 
 
 blockade ? It is not a hard task to account for 
 the future protector's decision. 
 
 In the lirst place, the militias, unaccustomed 
 to protracted operations, might grow weary of 
 a lengthened campaign, and desert to their 
 homes. 
 
 In the next place, — and this was to him by 
 far the more influential reason of the two, — 
 Cromwell was not ignorant that the existing 
 government exercised its prerogatives in direct 
 opposition to the wills of the great majority in 
 the nation. Not the episcopalians only, but the 
 presbvterians, with the catholics and all except 
 the independents, were heartily disgusted with 
 the new order which things had assumed; and 
 scarcely concealed their intention of bringing 
 back the son of their murdered sovereign, and 
 reinstating him in the authority which his 
 Rubers h;ul melded. It argued not a little in 
 favour of the talent and enery of a faction, 
 that, in spite of such a feeling against them, 
 they still continued to hold the reins of govern- 
 ment; yet would it have shown an excess of 
 weakness in Cromwell, had he, in perfect 
 knowledge of all this, permitted a mistaken 
 compassion for human Buffering to produce any 
 the slightest delay in bringing matters to a 
 crisis. Now, whatever Cromwell's faults 
 might be, an excess of womanish pity can cer- 
 tainly not he numbered among them. Aware 
 that all was at stake; that the prize for which 
 he had thrown, and which was already in a 
 great degree within his reach, might, should a 
 few weeks pass in inactivity, he wrested from 
 
OLIVLR CROMWELL. 141 
 
 him ; he no sooner made himself master of 
 both banks of the Severn, than he prepared to 
 strike for more : nor were the dispositions 
 consequent upon this determination marked by 
 less of intelligence, than the reasoning which 
 dictated them savoured of gallantry and discre- 
 tion. 
 
 It was on the 3d of September, the anniver- 
 sary of his great victory at Dunbar, that Crom- 
 well prepared to strike for a still greater, be- 
 cause a more decisive conquest. At an early 
 hour in the morning, Fleetwood's division be- 
 gan to advance, driving in, by a musketry fire, 
 the royal outposts, and gradually ascending the 
 eminences in their front. Charles, who had 
 mounted one of -the towers of the cathedral, 
 saw and comprehended the nature of this 
 movement, and ordered a strong reinforce- 
 ment both of horse and foot to support the 
 pickets. 
 
 These stoutly maintained themselves, and 
 for the space of half an hour rolled back the 
 tide of battle towards ihe Team ; when, fresh 
 battalions arriving to the assistance of Fleet- 
 wood, hi again took and retained the lead. 
 Th.j Scots fought well. They disputed every 
 hedge and fence: repeatedly charging as op- 
 portunities offered, and never giving ground 
 except at the pike's point; yet were they borne 
 back by the weight of superior numbers, till 
 the ridge itself was lost. Then, indeed, their 
 retreat became more rapid as well as disorder- 
 ly; nor was it till the garden walls and en- 
 closures about the town afforded a temporary 
 
142 THE LITE OF 
 
 shelter that they ventured to show a front to 
 the assailants. 
 
 All this while the battle raged with great 
 fury in other quarters. The royalists, Imping 
 that the republicans on the left of the Severn 
 had weakened themselves by detaching too 
 largely to the right bank, attacked them there 
 with such fury, that it required all the vigilance 
 of the general, as well as the discipline and 
 hardihood of his troops, to maintain the held. 
 The militia regiments, which formed the first 
 line, were indeed broken and routed; but the 
 veteran battalions, closing up, checked and 
 repulsed the victors, chased them eventually 
 within the walls, and threatened them even 
 there. 
 
 A redoubt, called Fort Royal, which com- 
 manded the main approach to the town, was, 
 after half an hour's battering, stormed and 
 taken; and one thousand five hundred men, 
 who had thrown themselves into it, died on 
 the spot. This was followed by a second at- 
 tack upon such b.inds as still lined the hedges 
 and enclosures ; while Fleetwood, following 
 up his successes on the other side, converted 
 a retreat into a rout, and menaced the city by 
 Friar Street. 
 
 It was in vain that tin: fugitives excluimed 
 aloud for the cavalry to support them. By 
 some unaccountable mis ake, that arm was 
 never fairly brought into play till tin.' proper 
 opportunity of wielding it hid passed; and 
 hence the infantry, disheartened by their losses, 
 were pushed pellmell back into the towj:. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 143 
 
 Then, indeed, an effort was made to charge; 
 but it was too late. Encumbered by crowds of 
 fugitives, and exposed to a plunging fire of 
 cannon, the troopers refused to dash forward : 
 nor was their reluctance overcome even by 
 the impassioned exclamation of the )oung 
 king, "^hoot me through the head, and let 
 me not live to see the sad consequences of this 
 day." 
 
 The sun had by this time set, and the night 
 was fast closing, yet the battle continued to 
 rage with unabated fury. '1 he republicans, 
 pouring across both rivers, furiously attacked 
 the suburbs, and driving the dispirited royalists 
 before them, gained house after house, and 
 street after street, till the market-place itself 
 became threatened. 
 
 Jt was now that Charles, perceiving the 
 absolute overthrow of all hope, thought, at the 
 urgent entreaty of his friends, of providing for 
 his own safety. One desperate charge was 
 organised; it was given, and for a brn-f space 
 succeeded, under cover of which the young 
 king made good his escape amid a throng of 
 fugitive horsemen. By the earl of Derby's 
 directions, Charles went to Bot»cobel, a lone 
 house on the herders of Staffordshire, inhabited 
 by one I'enderell, a farmer, who, with his four 
 brothers, served him with unshaken fidelity. 
 Having clothed the king in a garb like their 
 own, they led him into a neigtihouring wood, 
 and pretended to employ themselves in catting 
 faggots. For better concealment, he mounted 
 an.oak, where, hid among the leaves, he saw 
 
144 THE LIFE OF 
 
 several soldiers pass by, who expressed in his 
 hearing, their earnest wishes of finding him. At 
 length, after escaping the frequunt dangers of 
 detection, the king embarked on board a vessel 
 at Shorehitn, in Sussex, and arrived safely at 
 Feficamp in Normandy, after a concealment of 
 o.ie and forty days. i\o less than forty men 
 and women had at different times been privy to 
 his concealment, yet all of them proved faithful 
 to their trust. 
 
 But the city, all the stores and materiel, 
 with not fewer than eight thousand prisoners, 
 remained in the hands of the conquerors. The 
 killed again amounted to full two thousand 
 more, including the devoted garrison of Fort 
 Royal; while something less than thrae thou- 
 sand of all ranks alone quitted the place. 
 
 On the side of the conquerors, it is not easy 
 to state how many perished ; for Cromwell 
 seems to have been to the full as well versed 
 in the art of concealing his own losses as any 
 commander of modern times; yet, making due 
 allowance for misstatements; we shall proba- 
 bly not excaed the truth, when we put it down 
 at less than five hundred men. Neverthe- 
 less, had it doubled this amount, the loss 
 must have been accounted light indeed, see- 
 ing that with the great victory of Worcester 
 ended all the hopes and attempts of the royal 
 party. 
 
 Such was the closing scene in the military 
 career of Cromwell ; to hi nself, beyond all 
 doubt, a great and glorious one, though his 
 exultation at the moment carried him, as Lud- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 145 
 
 lo v informs us, far beyond the bounds of his 
 customary self-command. It was with much 
 difficulty, indeed, that he was restrained from 
 conferring the honour of knighthood on three 
 of his odieers who had particularly distinguish- 
 ed themselves, while his whole demeanor bore 
 the stamp rather of a sovereign prince than of 
 the leader of an army strictly republican. 
 Nor, to say the truth, were his dealings with 
 his prisoners marked by any rigid regard t-o 
 lli; 1 dictates of honour or humanity. It is 
 true, that of the superior officers oniy a few 
 suffered by the hand of the executioner; but 
 thousands of the common soldiers were shipped 
 off td the West Indies, and sold as slaves to 
 merchants and planters. 
 
 In like manner, his bearing towards both 
 parliament and council assumed a haughtier 
 am! more distant tone. He accepted readily 
 enough the provision often thousand pounds a 
 year granted to him by the former body, and 
 consented, at the entreaty of the latter, to fix 
 his abode at Hampton Court, amid a degree of 
 splendour truly royal; but his communications 
 with individuals became stiff, cold, and reserv- 
 ed, resembling those which a master holds 
 with his menials, rather than the intercourse 
 which equals are accustomed to maintain one 
 with the other. 
 
 The truth, indeed, is, that Cromwell believ- 
 ed the fitting moment to have arrived Fo» the 
 realization of the most extravagant of his early 
 dreams. The war was ended ; the royal 
 cause, smitten to earth, could not rise f:gain; 
 10 
 
146 Tim LIFE OF 
 
 the army, all-powerful, looked up to him, or 
 seemed to do so, with the most abject reve- 
 rence; while the parliament, though wanting 
 neither in talent nor experience, could count I 
 hut little upon the support of any party hi the 
 nation. All things, in short, seemed to indi- 
 cate that an absolute throne lay by DO means 
 beyond his reach; and ambition was a princi- 
 ple with trim tuo active not to be called im- 
 mediately into play. The consequence was, 
 that towards the attainment of one great oh- 
 ject all his energies of mind and body were 
 henceforth devoted ; and it is beyond dis- 
 pute, that if he failed to catch the shadows, 
 the title, and the garb of royalty, he at least 
 acquired in the end more of real and sub- 
 stantia) power than had ever been exercisi d by 
 any king of England since the accession of the 
 Tudors. 
 
 Though it belongs not to the biographi r of 
 Oliver Cromwell, considered as one of I'ng- 
 land's most eminent military commanders, t« 
 describe at length the many and complicated 
 affairs which exercised the latter years of brs 
 life, we deem it necessary to lay before our 
 readers, at hast, the heads of that strange 
 series of events, through which he i 
 more than regal authority, and amid the pro- 
 gress of which he expired. In the first place, 
 then, we are called upon to state, that 
 as the **CT0wing" victory of Worcester I e- 
 canie known in London, both the parliament 
 and city authorities hastened to mark their 
 sense of life eminent services performed b\ 
 
©LITER CROMWELL. 147 
 
 the general. The former, besides settling up- 
 on him anil his heirs for ever, an additional 
 pension of four thousand pounds a year, sent 
 a deputation of their body to congratulate him, 
 and to request now, when the calls upon his 
 patriotism appeared to have ceased, that he 
 would return to the vicinity of the capital, and 
 at once attend to his own health, and aid the 
 senate with the weight of his councils. 
 
 Hampton Court, it was suggested, would 
 furnish him with ample and convenient lodg- 
 ings; and, as he made no opposition to the 
 suggestion, the palace was immediately put 
 into a habitable condition. A sort of triumphal 
 procession was then arranged, in which the 
 lord mayor, the aldermen, and sheriffs bore a 
 put; and the whole including many members 
 of the house of commons, meeting him at 
 Aylesbury, led him, amid the shouts of an im- 
 mense crowd, into London. AH this was 
 abundantly gratify ing to the vanity of Crom- 
 well, — a passion from the influence of 
 which he was not absolutely free ; but it op- 
 erated in no degree towards the accomplish- 
 ment of his more serious wishes, and was by 
 him forgotten, as soon as the pageant passed 
 away. 
 
 We have spoken of the legislature as com- 
 posed at this period of men deficient neither in 
 talent nor in spirit, though comparatively pow- 
 erless through the absence of a preponderating 
 party personally attached to then selves among 
 the people at large. The case unquestionably 
 was so; yet events had latterly fallen out con- 
 
146 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ducive in no trifling degree to their advantage; 
 and, as a necessary consequence, productive 
 of increased difficulties to (.'ion. well. 
 
 In the first place, his own absence in Scot- 
 land, together vviih that of hi* chief adherents, 
 left them free to organise at leisure a steady 
 system of self-defence : in the next place, the 
 brilliant success which had attended all their 
 undertakings, — the conquests of the feet over 
 the Dutch and of the armies acting under their 
 auspices over the king and the Scots, — obtain- 
 ed for them great respect both at home and 
 abroad. 
 
 " The parliament passed the famous naviga- 
 tion act. Letters of reprisal were granted to 
 several merchants, who complained of injuries 
 which they had received from the states : and 
 above eighty Dutch ships fell into their hands, 
 and vvt-re made prizes. The cruellies commit- 
 ted on the English at Amboyna, which had 
 been* suffered to sleep in oblivion for thirty 
 years, were also urged as a ground for hostile 
 aggression. 
 
 That they might not be unprepared for the 
 war with which they were menaced, the states 
 equipped a fleet of one hundred and fifty sail ; 
 ami gave the command of a squadron of forty- 
 two ships to Fan Trornp, an admiral of great 
 talents, to protect the Dutch navigation against 
 the privateers of I'ngland. In the road of Do- 
 ver, he met with Blake, who commanded an 
 English fleet much inferior in number. Who 
 was the aggressor in the action which ensued, 
 it is not easv to determine; but the Dutch were 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 149 
 
 defpatcd with the loss of one ship sunk, and 
 another taken. 
 
 'lhe parliament gladly seiz< d this opportunity 
 of commencing the war in form. Several ac- 
 tions now took place with various success. At 
 length, Tromp, seconded by De Rinter, met 
 near the Goodwin Sands with Blaise, who, 
 though his fleet was inferior to that of the Dutch, 
 declined not the combat. Both sides fought 
 with the greatest bravery; but the advantage 
 remained with the Dutch; and after this victory, 
 Trooip, in a bravado, fixed a broom to his mast- 
 head, as if resolved to sweep the seas of the 
 English. 
 
 Great preparations were made in England to 
 wipe off this disgrace ; and a fleet of eighty sail 
 was filled out, commanded by Blake, and under 
 him bv Dean and Monk. As the English lay 
 oft' Portland, they descried a Dutch fleet of sev- 
 enty-six vessels, sailing up the channel with 
 three hundred merchant-. i en, under the com- 
 mand of Tromp and D-j Ru\ter. A most furi- 
 ous battle commenced, and Continued for three 
 days, with the utmost rage and obstinacy j and 
 Blake, who was victor, could scarcely be said 
 to have gained more honour than the vanquish- 
 ed. Tromp made a s'kilful retreat, and after 
 losing eleven ship- of war. and thirty'merchant- 
 inen, reached the. coast of Holland. 
 
 This defeat, together with the loss which 
 their trade sustained by the war, inclined the 
 states to peace ; but parliament did not receive 
 their overtures in a favourable" manner; and 
 they rejoiced at the dissolution of that assembly 
 
150 THE LIFE OF 
 
 by Cromwell, as an event likely to render their 
 affairs more prosperous." 
 
 It required to ordinary courage to attack the 
 authority of such a government, even indirect- 
 ly; yet was Cromwell fully equal to any pur- 
 pose on which he had ventured. With admir- 
 able skill he availed himself of two motions, 
 which they had themselves long ago and re- 
 peatedly undertaken to entertain. To the 
 first of the^e, which related to a bill of amnesty 
 or oblivion, no serious opposition was offered. 
 After a short discussion, the house determined 
 that, with the exception of a few prominent 
 cases, no inquiry should be made into any 
 political offences committed previous to the 
 battle of Worcester; and as Cromwell took 
 care that his own efforts in obtaining this en- 
 actment should become generally known, he 
 counted, and not without reason, on having 
 thereby secured many friends even among the 
 royalists. 
 
 The second was, however, a matter of much 
 more delicate management. He called upon 
 the house to name a time when they should 
 dissolve themselves; and, in spite of a stout 
 opposition, he compelled them to limit their 
 sittings to a period not exceeding three years. 
 So far a shock was given to the power, to 
 which the nation had hitherto looked up as 
 supreme ; but a short time elapsed ere the 
 blow was repeated, after a novel fashion, in- 
 deed, but with a force increased tenfold. 
 
 While matters rested thus, and the parlia- 
 ment, though alarmed, could scarcely assign 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 151 
 
 any spsciiic ground of apprehension, Crom- 
 well used every exertion to excite in the minds 
 of those about him a feeling of discontent with 
 the existing state of public affairs. lie held 
 frequent consultations with the leading mem- 
 bers both of the army and the law, relative to 
 the form of government which it behoved them 
 eventually to adopt, for that the present was 
 no more than temporary all men began by de- 
 grees to admit. Were we at liberty to describe 
 even one of these interviews, a curious insight 
 would be given iato the composition of Crom- 
 well's mind; but the nature of our subject re- 
 minds us, that such details are necessarily re- 
 served for another pen. Let it suffice, then, 
 to state, that in spite of all his cunning, Crom- 
 well could not succeed in cheating even his 
 brother soldiers into the expression of a desire 
 that he would himself mount the vacant 
 throne. Such, on the contrary, as preferred a 
 limited monarchy, recommended that the an- 
 cient line should be restored; but not a man 
 raised his voice in favour of the "house of 
 Cromwell, to the permanent exclusion of the 
 house of Stuart." Oliver was mortified and 
 offended, yet he mastered his chagrin; and 
 having failed to plant the diadem on his own 
 brows, he strove to obtain the power, without 
 the title of king. / 
 
 No great while elapsed ere the parliament, 
 by a somewhat premature efforts to deprive 
 him of his chief support, brought matters to a 
 point. Early in 1652, an act was passed for 
 the reduction of one third of th* army; and all 
 
152 THE LIFE OF 
 
 hazard of internal war being now at an end, a 
 measure so reasonable met with no direct op- 
 position. Encouraged by this success, the 
 commons, in the month of A ugust following, 
 proceeded to threaten another third -of the 
 troops with dismissal; but the seeds of mutiny 
 had been already shown, and it needed only 
 such a proposal to bring them to perfection. 
 A deputation of officers conveyed a petition to 
 the house, in which the claims of the army 
 were pretty broadly set forth, and numerous 
 and gravw charges brought against the manners 
 in which affairs had been administered else- 
 where. There whs no resisting an appeal thus 
 made. The house, though openly expressing 
 their indignation, refrained for the present from 
 pressing the motion of reduction; and Crom- 
 well, who now stood forward as the avowed 
 advocate of the troops, became every day more 
 and more the object of their well-grounded 
 suspicions. 
 
 In this state things continued during the re- 
 mainder of the year, the parliament anxious to 
 deliver itself from the restraint of a numerous 
 and veteran army, and Cromwell meditating 
 from day to day the assumption, through the 
 assistance of that very army, of absolute power, 
 if not of the regal title. Numerous and varied 
 were the conferences which he held both with 
 the lord keeper, Whitelocke, and others; but 
 from one and all he met with a reception so 
 co'd, that he could not hazard the least at- 
 tempt. The necessity of acting was, however, 
 at length forced upon him. After wavering 
 

 OLIVER CROMWELL. 153 
 
 for some time, the parliament came to the 
 final determination of dissolving itself, as soon 
 as it should nave disbanded the army, and 
 named successors to the sitting members ; 
 while Cromwell, fearful of the consequences, 
 should any such preliminary steps be taken, 
 meditated the performance of an act which 
 should surpass even his accustomed bold- 
 ness. 
 
 Having summoned his military and political 
 friends to a conference, he submitted to them 
 the propiety of summarily dispersing the par- 
 liament; and though he found a majority op- 
 posed to the project, he resolved to persevere 
 in it. He accordingly repaired, at the head of 
 three hundred musketeers, to Westminster, 
 posted his followers m the lobby of the house, 
 and taking his own seat on one of the further 
 benches, listened for a while to the debates, as 
 if he had come for no other purpose. He had 
 occupied his place about two hours, when all 
 at once he whispered to Harrison, who sat 
 near, that "now he must do it." 
 
 Harrison, aware of his design, entreated him 
 to pause : "It is not an act," said he, "to be 
 done rashly;" and Cromwell assenting to the 
 suggestion, resumed his seat for a quarter of 
 an hour longer. But the debates was no soon- 
 er end -d, and the speaker proposed to put the 
 question, when he rose again. 
 
 "This is the time," cried be : "I must do 
 it." Upon which he pulled off his hat. and 
 began to address the house in a calm and even 
 a conciliatory tone. As he proceeded, how- 
 
154 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ever, his animation increased, till at last a 
 string of bitter invectives constituted the whole 
 of his oratory, and the members found them- 
 selves assailed with accusations more personal- 
 ly rude than had ever been heaped on them 
 before. Finally, he told them to be gone; that 
 the Lord had borne with their iniquities long 
 enough ; that they were no parliament, and 
 should not again be, permitted to assume the 
 functions that belonged to better men. Then 
 stamping with his foot, he called to the soldiers, 
 who rushed in at the signal, to " take away 
 that fool's bauble," the mace ; and driving the 
 speaker from his chair, and the members gen- 
 erally before him, he locked the doors of the 
 house, and carried the keys in his pocket to 
 Whitehall. 
 
 Having thus rudely dismissed the legislative 
 body, his next step was to dissolve with equal 
 rudeness the executive, or coum il of state. Ab- 
 ruptly entering the apartment in which they sat, 
 he addressed them in these memorable words : 
 — "Gentlemen, if ye be met here as private 
 persons, ye shall not be disturbed ; but if as a 
 council of state, this is no place for you ; and 
 sure ye cannot but know what was done at the 
 house in the morning, so take notice, that the 
 parliament which appointed you is dissolved." 
 The rest of the members stared at him in si- 
 lence } but Bradshavv, the president, boldly re- 
 plied, — 
 
 "Sir, we have heard what you did at the 
 house in the morning, and before many hours 
 all England will hear of it; but, sir, you ar« 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 155 
 
 mistaken if you think that the parliament is 
 dissolved, for no power under heaven can dis- 
 solve them but themselves; therefore take you 
 notice of that." Nevertheless, the council 
 finding that they, too, were exposed to military 
 violence, quietly broke up. 
 
 We cannot pause to describe either the 
 general consternation produced throughout 
 England, by this extraordinary exertion of 
 power on Cromwell's part, or the more covert 
 but not less anxious efforts by which he again 
 strove to draw from his friends an offer of su- 
 preme power. Enough is done when we state, 
 tint the latter entirely failed; that anew coun- 
 cil of state was erected; that by the irentlemen 
 composing it Oliver was authorized, as cap- 
 tain-general of the forces, to summon one hun- 
 dred and forty-two persons, selected by them- 
 selves, who, with the appellation of a parlia- 
 ment, might assist in the general conduct of af- 
 fairs; that this strange assembly, composed in 
 many instances of the lowest and most worth- 
 less tradesmen in London, met; that it receiv- 
 ed the name of the "Barebones' Parliament," 
 in consequence of a leather-seller in Fleet- 
 street, called "Praise God Barebones," being 
 one of its chief orators; and that, after a brief 
 display of bigotry and folly, such as had not 
 yet been exhibited within the walls of St. 
 Stephen's, it in its turn becoming displeasing to 
 Cromwell, the members composing it were, at 
 the point of the pike, induced to dissolve them- 
 selves. 
 
 A like proceeding was adopted by the new 
 
15« THE LIFE OF 
 
 council of state, which g ive up to Cromwell 
 the whole authority of the government; with- 
 out, however, expressing any opinion as to the 
 uses to which it ought to be turned. And now, 
 when every obstacle seemed to he removed, 
 a club of his own creatures, though they re- 
 fused him the title of king, succeeded in in- 
 vesting him with more than kingly authori- 
 ty. On the 12th of December, lfi53, the 
 Barebones' parliament broke up; and on the 
 Kith, Cromwell was solemnly inaugurated, in 
 Westminster Hall, as "Lord Protector of the 
 Commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ire- 
 land." 
 
 Accordingly to* the new arrangement, the 
 power of legislation was committed conjointly 
 to the parliament and the protector, — the exe- 
 cutive being lodged absolutely with the pro- 
 tector and his council. All writs, patents, nOd 
 commissions were to issue in the name of the 
 protector; from him all honours and offices 
 were to be derived; and he was invested gene- 
 rally with the most valuable of the preroga- 
 tives of a king, though his office itself was de- 
 clared to be elective. But, though thus li- 
 beral to their new sovereign, the people of 
 England were not forgetful of themselves. 
 Triennial parliaments were established. 
 
 A novel, and, as it was esteemed at the 
 moment, a more equitable system of represen- 
 tation was invented, bv regulating the number 
 of members to be returned from each county, 
 city, and borough, in proportion to the sums 
 paid by each towards the national expense; 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 15? 
 
 while the smaller boroughs were plundered of 
 their chartered privileges, and deprived of all 
 weight in the body politic. JN T o laws, it was 
 provided, should be altered, suspended, 
 abrogated, or enacted, — no tax, charge, or 
 imposition laid upon the people, — except by 
 the common consent of parliament; and bills 
 passed by the two houses were, it was declar- 
 ed, to have the force of law, twenty days after 
 t!i '\ should have been offered to the protector, 
 even though his assent should be refused. Such 
 is a meagre outline of the novel constitution of 
 which Cromwell was appointed the guardian; 
 — how far it operated to secure the liberty and 
 happiness of the people every reader of history 
 must be aware. 
 
 We would deviate entirely from the design of 
 tliis memoir were we to follow the bent of our 
 own inclinations, by giving even a brief account 
 of this the most important era in Cromwell's 
 life. Let it suffice to state, that throughout the 
 space of four years and nine months he wielded 
 the destinies of the Britsih empire with a degree 
 of vigour unparalleled in the annals of our coun- 
 try. 13y a simple declaration of his arbitrary 
 will he united its discordant parts, suppressing 
 the parliaments in Edinburgh and London, and 
 calling up representatives from Scotland and 
 Ireland to London. His foreign policy, again, 
 was, with one memorable exception, [We al- 
 lude to this imprudent a!li;;nce with France 
 .gainst Spain, of which the consequences con- 
 tinue to he felt even in our own times, both wise 
 rnd vigorous.] Holland he reduced to the ne- 
 
156 THE LIFE OF 
 
 cessity of accepting a disadvantageous peace ;; 
 Sweden and Denmark lie overawed ; both • 
 Spain and Portugal i'elt the weight of his arm ; j 
 and France at once courted and reared him. 
 Yet was he both a tyrant to his own subjects, ,' 
 and the slave of constant apprehensions, for 1 
 which there was but too much room. The i 
 parliament which he had called into existence 
 began, even on its first meeting, to question bis 
 authority; and was, according to his usual prac- 
 tice convinced by the argument of pike and 
 musket. This gave rise to plots and conspira- 
 cies, in which many members joined, till at last 
 he dissolved the body, alter plainly declaring 
 that its continuance was not for the benefit of 
 the nation. Thence followed various insurrec- 
 tions, — with seditions innumerable, by which 
 the army itself was affected, till a temper natu- 
 rally stern became soured into absolute misan- 
 thropy. 
 
 In the month of September, 1656, Cromwell 
 summoned his third parliament, which he had 
 taken care to pack with creatures devoted to 
 his own wishes. Its first proceeding was form- 
 ally to " renounce and disannul the title of 
 Chiirlws Stuart unto the Sovereign dominions rtf 
 the nations of England, Scotland and Ireland;" 
 its second, to declare it " high treason to con- 
 spire the death of the protector." And Colo- 
 nel Jephson, in order to sound the inclinations 
 of the bouse, ventured to move, that they 
 should bestow the crown on Cromwell. When 
 the protector afterwards affected to ask what 
 could indece him to make such a motion; Ci As 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 159 
 
 long," said Jephson, "as I have the honour to 
 sit in parliament, I must follow the dictates of 
 my own conscience, whatever offence I may 
 be so unfortunate as to give you." "Get thee 
 gone," said Cromwell, giving him a gentle 
 blow on the shoulder, "get thee gone for a 
 mad fellow as thou art." 
 
 P>y and by, this obsequious assembly, on the 
 motion of Alderman Park, resolved, that "Crom- 
 well should be elected king ;" and a deputa- 
 tion actually waited upon him to receive his 
 pleasure on the subject. But Cromwell, though 
 not less ambitious now than formerly of the roy- 
 al dignity, soon found that the army were to a 
 man determined to resist the encroachment. It 
 was to no purpose that he employed every arti- 
 fice of which he was master for the purpose of 
 overcoming their hostility. Even Fleetwood, 
 who had married his daughter, the widow of 
 Ireton, and Desborough his brother-in-law, re- 
 fused their consent, while colonel Pride, for- 
 merly his ready agent, took now an active part 
 against him. That gentleman procured a peti- 
 tion from the principal officers, which stated 
 " that they had hazarded their lives against 
 monarchy", and were sti'.l ready to do so ; and 
 that finding an attempt was making to press 
 t/ke'it general to take upon him the title and 
 government of a kiug, in order to destroy him, 
 they hambly desired that the house would dis- 
 countenancc all such endeavours." It was im- 
 possible to misi onstrue the import of declara- 
 tions such as these ; so Cromwell bent to the 
 storm, and declined the proffered honour. Nev- 
 
160 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ertheless Ins faithful commons failed not, by a 
 fresh enactment, to afford what salve the) could 
 to his wounded vanity. They voted linn pro- 
 tector for life, vvitli power to name his Roccettfi* 
 or ; and they authorized him to bring bhek the 
 form of the old constitution, by establishing a 
 house of peers, liut this measure, b) which 
 he expected 10 increase his authority, proved 
 the principal cause of his future weakness. Kis 
 most trusty adherents alone accepting the ephe- 
 meral dignities which he had to olier, made 
 way in the lower house for men of a different 
 mould, whose opposition to the will of the pro- 
 tector became at Last too hitter for endurance. 
 Having in vain tried the eiVect both of Battery 
 and menaces, Cromwell had recourse in the 
 end to his old expedient ; and violently dissolv- 
 ing the parliament, determined to govern thence- 
 forth by virtue of his own prerogative. 
 
 Fro::; this period, up to uie autumn of 1658, 
 Cromwell passed his time, Surrounded indeed 
 by all tlie po up and circumstances of high es- 
 tate, hut a prey to more than the cm mo in 11 anx- 
 ieties and troubles which accompany even usur- 
 ped power. Alarmed day l»\ day v\ i 1 1 1 rumours 
 of meditated revolts, made aware even through 
 the public press ti at his life was not safe from 
 the blow of the assassin, and conscious as well 
 that his friends were alienated from him, as that 
 his very gairds abhorred him, he was miserable 
 when in society, lest ewr\ hand should be 
 turned against him ; and not less miserable in 
 solitude, becaose he was there without support. 
 To such a height, indeed, were his fear* of per- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 161 
 
 sonal violence raised, that he wore constantly 
 beneath his clothes a suit of chain-armour, and 
 carried daggers, pistols, and other weapons of 
 offence, concealed about his person : yet was 
 there one source of consolation left him amid 
 so many troubles. 
 
 His domestic life was a happy one, as far as 
 the attachment of his wife and children could 
 render it so; and it may be more than doubted 
 whether the religious enthusiasm which once 
 swayed him ever lost its power. It is at all 
 events certain, that even while signing warrants 
 of proscription and death, against multitudes of 
 loval men, for no other reason than he suspect- 
 ed them of designs hostile to his government, 
 he continued still to speak of himself as an in- 
 strument in the hands of God. 
 
 Such was the tenor of his existence, when 
 Elizibeth, his favourite daughter, was seized 
 with a lingering illness, under which she 
 aradually sank. Her condition deeply affected 
 The protector, and he spent no inconsiderable 
 portion of his time by her bed-side, vindicat- 
 ing to her many passages in his public career, 
 and offering to her all the consolations of re- 
 ligion. 
 
 His anxiety and grief operating upon a frame 
 already shaken, and aided by the chill of his 
 armour, which he wore next the skin, threw 
 him into a fever; and gout and ague following, 
 he became alarmingly ill. He, too, became 
 unable to quit his bed; and the death of his 
 daughter being somewhat unguardedly com- 
 
162 THE LIFE OF 
 
 municated to him, a violent paroxysm ensued : 
 from that time his recovery was hopeless. It 
 is true that neither he nor the fanatical preach- 
 ers who surrounded him would give any 
 credence to the opinions of the physicians. 
 
 "Do not think that 1 will die," s.iid he to 
 his wife, when on one occasion she entered his 
 apartment; "1 am sure of the contrary :" and 
 seeing that she looked sorrowfully in his face, 
 he immediately added, -'Sa\ not that 1 have 
 lost my reason. I tell you the truth : I know 
 it from better authority than any which you 
 can have from Galen or Hippocrates. It is the 
 answer of God himself to our prayers, not to 
 mine alone, but to those of others, who have a 
 more intimate interest in him than I have. Go 
 on cheerfully, banishing all sorrow from your 
 looks, and deal with me as ye would with a 
 serving man. Ye may have skill in the nature 
 of things; yet nature can do more than all phy- 
 sicians put together; and God is far more above 
 nature." 
 
 In perfect accordance with the sentiments 
 conveyed in this speech, was the t«nor both of 
 his own and of his chaplains' devotions. One 
 of these, called Goodwin, addressed the Su- 
 preme Being thus : — 
 
 "Lord, we do not aak thee for his life; 
 of that we are assured; thou hast too many 
 great things for this man to do for it to be 
 possible thou shouldsl remove him yet; but 
 we pray for his speedy establishment and re- 
 covery." 
 
 So also the protector himself, on the very 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 163 
 
 night preceding his death, uttered the following 
 petitions : — 
 
 "Lord, I am a poor foolish creature; this 
 people would fain have me live; they think it 
 will be best for them, and that it will rebound 
 much to thy glory; ail the stir is about this. 
 Others would fain have me die; Lord, pardon 
 them; and pardon thy foolish people; forgive 
 their sins, and do not forsake them; but love 
 and bless them; and give them rest, and bring 
 them to a consistency, and give me rest, for 
 Jesus Christ's sake." 
 
 There is one more anecdote relating to this, 
 the last scene in Cromwell's drama, which we 
 venture to give. Throughout life he had ever 
 professed himself a high Calvinist; and, as a 
 necessary consequence, a believer in the doc- 
 trine called the final perseverance of the saints. 
 In a moment of more than usual depression, 
 he begged of one of his chaplains to say, 
 whether the doctrine were really sound; and 
 whether he who had once been in a state of 
 grace could ever fall back into reprobation. 
 The divine assured him that no such event 
 could occur. "Then," exclaimed he, "I am 
 safe; for I am sure I was once in a state of 
 grace." 
 
 In the midst of these ravings, and while his 
 spiritual attendants predicted a speedy re- 
 covery, the hand of death full heavy upon 
 Cromwell. 
 
 On the 3d of September, 165S, a day con- 
 sidered by himself as particularly fortunate, he 
 gave up the ghost, having, in a voice scarcely 
 
[>r 
 
 164 THE LIFE OF 
 
 audible, named his son Richard as his succes- 
 sor in the proteetorial chair. But as if na- 
 ture herself had taken an interest in the fate of 
 this extraordinary person, lie breathed not his 
 last as other men do. A furious tempest; 
 swept from one side of the island to the other. 
 The largest trees in St. James's park were 
 torn up by the roots; houses were unroofed or 
 thrown down, ;ind men, even of strong minds, 
 seriously doubted, whether the strife of tiie 
 elements were produced by ordinary causes. 
 . His adherenis, of course, spoke of the occur- 
 rence as manifesting the interest taken by the 
 Deity himself of the character and services of 
 the deceased, while the royalists ascribed it to 
 a dispute among the evil spirits which rule the 
 air, as to which should enjoy the honour of 
 conducting the usurper's soul to the place of 
 punishment. These speculations were, no 
 doubt, equally absurd; yet was there less of 
 impiety in them thin in the conduct of his 
 favourite chaplain, Stury : 
 
 "Dry up your tears," said he to the pro- 
 tector's relarives and attendants; *' ye have 
 more reason to rejoice than to weep. He was 
 your protector here, he will prove a still more 
 powerful protector now that he is with Christ 
 lit the right hand of the Father." 
 
 Cromwell's condition of bo<)\ at his decease 
 was not such as to permit his being laid out, 
 as it is called, in state; but a wnxen image, 
 made to represent him, Peseivtd all the hon-l 
 ours usually b> stowed upon ro\al clav. His 
 funeral, likewise, was perforated amid a great- 
 

 OLIVER CROMWELL. 16S 
 
 er display of pageantry, and at an expense far 
 exceeding that lavished upon the obsequies of 
 any monarch. 
 
 "He was carried," says Evelyn, " from 
 Somerset House on a velvet bed of state, 
 drawn by six horses, harnessed with the same; 
 the pall was held up by his new lords; Oliver 
 lying in effigi« in royall robes, and crowned 
 with a crown, sceptre, and globe, like a king. 
 The pendants and guerdons were carried by 
 the otHcers of the army; the imperial banners, 
 achievements, &c, by the heraulds in their 
 eoales ; a rich-caparisoned horse, embroi- 
 dered all over with gold; a knight of honour 
 a'rmed cap-a-pie; and after all, his guards and 
 souldiers, and innumerable mourners. In this 
 equipage they proceeded to Westminster; but 
 it was the joyfullest funeral I ever saw; for 
 there was none that cried but dogs, which the 
 souldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, 
 drinking and taking tobacco in the streets as 
 they went." 
 
 The remains of Cromwell were deposited 
 for a season in llenry VII. 's chapel, amid the 
 dust of the kings of England, being enclosed in 
 a superb coffin, which bore the following in- 
 scription : — 
 
 "Oliverus Protector Reipublicce Anglite, 
 Scotia:, et Hibernice ; natus 25° Aprilis* 
 anno 1599; inauguratus 16 Q Decembris> 
 1653; mortuus U Q Septembris, 1658, hie 
 sitics est." 
 
 Of the contumelies afterwards offered to 
 them we are not called upon to say more, than 
 
168 THE LirE OF 
 
 that they have covered with disgrace those only 
 hy whom they were commanded and execu- 
 ted. 
 
 In a late number of the London and West- 
 minster Review, it make the following remarks 
 on the character of Cromwell : — 
 
 " There is a general impression that Crom- 
 well was a vulgar man. True it is he was not 
 polished in manners, but his mind was the re- 
 verse of his outward show. He was fond of 
 poetry, painting and music, and preserved the 
 Cartroons of Raphael when the long Parliament 
 had doomed the royal pictures to the flames. 
 It is said that he " loved an innocent joke," and 
 that his jokes were often practical, sometimes 
 damaging the ladies' dresses with sweetmeats 
 thrown among them. . Manners were not then 
 what manners are now. — Chesterfield had not 
 appeared with his imported French polish. 
 Queen Elizabeth boxed her maids of honor, and 
 sometimes her ministers. Essex clapped his 
 hand on his sword when served with the royal 
 sauce. She too had been • tickled in bed' by 
 some of her male friends, a liberty not to be 
 tolerated in these times. It is said of Cleopa- 
 tra that she give her steward a merciless cnffiing 
 when contradicted by him before Augustus. 
 
 It is remarkable that Cromwell had no fear 
 of the pen. — lie said, " The government that 
 cannot stand paper shot deserves to fall." Na- 
 poleon, on the contrary, when all Europe trem- 
 bled at his sword, lived in daily fear of the 
 piercir.g point of Madame de Stael's pen. 
 
 A British Consul was thrown into the Inquisi- 
 

 OLIVER CROMWELL. 167 
 
 tion for saying something against the Catholic 
 religion Cromwell demanded his release ; the 
 King said, " I cannot interfere with the Inquisi- 
 tion. " "Then," replied Cromwell, " I will 
 make war on the Inquisition," and the Consul 
 was liberated in a trice. Me prevented the ex- 
 tirpation of the Vaudois, and supported the 
 Protestants of Nismes, who venerate the name 
 of Cromwell. Mazarin complained to Madame 
 Turenne, " I am between two fires ; if I advise 
 the King to punish the Reformed Church, Crom- 
 well threatens to join the Spaniards ; if 1 favor 
 them, the Court of Rome account me a here- 
 tic." 
 
 Most part of the night before his death he 
 was talking to himself. " Truly," said he, 
 God is good ; he will not leave me. I would I 
 could live to be further serviceable to Cod and 
 his people, but my work is done." They of- 
 fered him some drink ; he was desired to take 
 it and endeavor to sleep. He answered, " It is 
 not my design to drink or sleep, but to make 
 what haste I can to be gone.'" 
 
 At his death occurred a most violent 
 storm; chimnies were thrown down, trees up- 
 rooted, houses unroofed, and he died on a day 
 on which he had been twice victorious — a day 
 which he considered the most lucky of his 
 life. The Puritans mourned and said, "It is 
 the Lord — a great man has fallen in Israel." " 
 
 It has been our great object in the forego- 
 ing sketch to regard Oliver Cromwell in the 
 single light of a distinguished military com- 
 mander. In adhering to this design we have 
 
168 THE LIFE OF 
 
 not unfrequently been compelled to suppress 
 details full both of interest and instruction, and 
 to impose serious restraints upon, our own 
 opinions touching the true end even of pro- 
 fessional biography. The plan, however, 
 which we had chalked out for ourselves 
 arbitrarily requiring these sacrifices, they have 
 without hesitation been made; nor in drawing 
 up a general estimate of his character as a 
 public man shall we permit ourselves to in- 
 dulge in greater liberties. To some other pen 
 will doubtless be intrusted the task of de- 
 termining the niche which Cromwell must fill 
 among the statesmen of England. Let it be 
 our business to give, as far as some little 
 knowledge of such matters will allow, a brief 
 estimate of his qualifications as the leader of an 
 army. 
 
 Oliver Cromwell belonged to that limited 
 number of mortals, of whom it may with jus- 
 tice be said, that they came from the hands of 
 nature ready-made soldiers. Bold, active, ro- 
 bust in frame, with nerves of the firmest tex- 
 ture, no dangers could affright, nor any acci- 
 dents deprive him of self-command, while a 
 thorough confidence in his own resources 
 sufficed in every emergency to carry him 
 through difficulties, under which a more mod- 
 est man would have given way. 
 
 The great quality, however, which dis- 
 tinguished him from almost every other gene- 
 ral of his day, was his intimate acquaintance 
 with human nature, and the consequent readi- 
 ness with which he selected fitting instru- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 1C9 
 
 merits, and moulded them on all occasions to 
 his own purposes. Of this, the mode which 
 he adopted to rill up the tanks of his first 
 regiment affords the most satisfactory proof; 
 and his treatment of these very men after they 
 were (nixed up with others, and so formed a 
 portion of a large body, amply confirms.it. 
 No man knew better than he where to draw 
 the line between proper indulgence and its 
 excess; no man could better temper familiarity 
 with respect, easy and kind treatment, with 
 the most rigid discipline. The consequence 
 was, th;it bis soldiers, however stubborn with 
 others, were to him pliant and tractable; not 
 only because they reposed in his abilities the 
 most absolute confidence, but because they 
 personally loved and respected himself. 
 
 L : ndaunted bravery, however, the capability 
 of more than common bodily exertions, and a 
 presence of mind which is never to be taken 
 by surprise, though each and all necessary in- 
 gedients, do not suffice, even when m-com- 
 pained by a thorough knowledge of human 
 nature, to complete the character of a great 
 general. 
 
 There must, in addition, be the power of 
 rapid, and, at the same time, accurate calcula- 
 tion; a judgment clear, and profound; a fore- 
 sight to imagine all probable difficulties, in or- 
 der that they may be anticipated; and a moral 
 courage which shall not pass over any, whether 
 it be grreat or small. If, again, to these be 
 added the principle of order by which masses 
 of men are moved like the pieces on a chess- 
 
170 THE LIFE ©F 
 
 board, then is the structure of a great military 
 mind complete. Such men were Hannibal, 
 Caesar, Marlborough, and, for a time at least, 
 Napoleon Bonaparte; and such a man is the 
 duke of Wellington ; how far the like as- 
 sertion may be hazarded with respect to Crom- 
 well we entertain serious doubts. 
 
 Cromwell lived in an age when the art of 
 war, properly so called, was very little under- 
 stood ; and, with one exception, he never 
 measured himself against an other either of 
 talent or experience. His early career, there- 
 fore, though very brilliant, was that of an ac- 
 tive partisan rather than a general; while it 
 was not till the year 1649 that he ever enjoyed 
 the opportunity of commanding a large army in 
 person. 
 
 His first campaigns in the capacity of gene- 
 ral in chief were in Ireland, where he certain- 
 ly gained many and important advantages : yet 
 when it is recollected that he fought, against 
 men disheartened, and at variance among 
 themselves; that there was no army in the 
 field to oppose him; and that the war was one 
 of sieges only, our admiration of his genius 
 will necessarily degenerate into an admission 
 that he was active, resolute, and ruthless. 
 
 The terrible executions which he sanctioned 
 in the first towns attacked intimidated the gar- 
 risons of other places; and hence the terror 
 of his name did more towards securing their 
 surrender than the skill of his dispositions, or 
 the vigour of his assaults. In Ireland, there- 
 fore, we see only the indefatigable guerilla 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 171 
 
 chief enlarged into the leader of a band of 
 ferocious veterans, from whose cruelty the 
 royalists were glad to take shelter, by abandon- 
 ing the posts which they had been appointed 
 to hold. 
 
 Of all the campaigns which Cromwell con- 
 ducted, that against the Scots in 1650-1 de- 
 serves to be considered as the most regular 
 and the most scientific. When he reached the 
 border, instead of a raw army in his front, he 
 beheld a scene of devastation and loneliness 
 around him; for the people were driven from 
 their houses; the corn and cattle were remov- 
 ed, and such measures adopted as would, even 
 now, when the mode of maintaining a moun- 
 tainous country is better understood, he ap- 
 proved. 
 
 It would appear that Cromwell had not 
 omitted from his calculations the possible oc- 
 currence of these events. A fleet of victuallers 
 and store-ships moved along the coast, from 
 which supplies might be derived; and trusting 
 to these, he pushed boldly forward to the at- 
 tack of the capital. 
 
 It has been said that Cromwell was out- 
 generalled here by Leslie. We have no wish 
 to detract from the merits of that able officer, 
 whose system of defence was exactly such as 
 the circumstances of the case required. Train- 
 ed in the Belgic school, he was not ignorant 
 that raw levies, however individually brave, 
 cannot, with any chance of success, be oppos- 
 ed to veterans on what is termed a fair field; 
 he, therefore, selected a position naturally 
 
172 THE LIFE OF 
 
 strong, entrenched it on every weak point, and 
 having devastated the country in its front, 
 waited patiently to be attacked. In all this, 
 however, the single quality display was firm- 
 ness; for there was no manoeuvring an either 
 side, as there was no occasion for it. Crom- 
 well, therefore, is as little to be accused of a 
 deficiency in skill, because he failed to pene- 
 trate the lines in front of Edinburgh, as Ml> 
 sena deserves to be accounted a weak man, 
 because the lines of Torres Vedras arrested his 
 march into Lisbon. 
 
 Having exhausted every device to turn this 
 position, Cromwell determined on a retreat; 
 and here again* he has been accused of im- 
 providence, because he preferred the const to 
 the inland road. It is very true that the posi- 
 tion at Dunbar w;is a perilous one; but let the 
 perils attending the adoption of a different plan 
 be consideren. Whence was Cromwell, in 
 the event of his filling back through the in- 
 terior, to derive his supplies. There was no 
 food in the country; he depended on his ships 
 for every thing : had he suffered his commu- 
 nications with th<Mii to be interrupted, his de- 
 struction was inevitable. 
 
 In a choice of diilicullies, he accordingly 
 selerted that course which seemed to be the 
 least enr-umbered with them : what MM in his 
 senses would act otherwise ? Again, it is urged, 
 that his retreat was disorderly ; and that he 
 ran himself into a snare, from which the 
 flagrant mismanagement of his enemies could 
 alone deliver him. To a certain, extent there 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 173 
 
 is truth in both assertions. His retreat was 
 not conducted with all the steadiness which 
 might have been exhibited ; yet was it the 
 reversa of disastrous : for as often as the 
 Scots hazarded an attack, they were re- 
 pulsed with a loss more heavy than they in- 
 flicted. 
 
 In the description already given of the rela- 
 tive positions of the two armies at Dunbar, it 
 will be seen, that the prospects of Cromwell 
 must have been for a time exceedingly gloomy. 
 Hemmed in between a range of hills and the 
 sea, a more desponding general would have 
 given up all for lost, yet Cromwell's confi- 
 dence never forsook him. He calculated up-" 
 on the possible occurrence of one of those 
 lucky ehances to the operations of which all 
 military movements are liable, and the event 
 demonstrated that he had not erred in so do- 
 ing. 
 
 Far be it from us to recommend his conduct 
 here as worthy of universal adoption; yet were 
 it folly to talk of carrying on war in every 
 situation of rule. War is a game of chance, 
 the broad principles of which are alone mat- 
 ters for disquisition, its minuter details being 
 much more frequently swayed by accident 
 than by previous consideration. And it is by 
 the promptitude with which he takes advant- 
 age of such accidents, more than by any other 
 proceeding, that the great general is dis- 
 tinguished from the mere theorist. How 
 Cromwell contrived to extricate himsulf from 
 the toils, and to defeat the army which en- 
 
174 THE LIFE OF 
 
 circled him, we have already shown : we can 
 now only repeat, that his doing so more than 
 redeemed any errors which he may have pre- 
 viously committed. 
 
 We come now to his march westward, and 
 its consequences. The plan of operations pur- 
 sued by the king manifestly indicated, that of 
 his communications with the more northern 
 and western counties he was peculiarly jealous; 
 and it became, of course, the object of Crom- 
 well to dissever these. And here it was, that 
 the greatest displays of generalship were ex- 
 hibited on both sides. Leslie's position in the 
 Tor-wood was admirably chosen. His move- 
 ment to the right, by which he blocked up the 
 road to Lanarkshire, was prompt and able; it 
 may be questioned whether he displayed equal 
 alacrity afterwards. His information being ex- 
 cellent he was not long left in ignorance that 
 the English had detached largely into Fife- 
 shire. 
 
 Had he advanced upon the corps in his front, 
 and forced it to give battle, the chances are, 
 that he would have overthrown it. This, how- 
 ever, he neglected to do; either because his 
 own genius was rather passive than active, or 
 because his troops were not surliciently man- 
 ageable, and the consequence was, that Crom- 
 well turned him with bis whole army. 
 
 It is true that the march of Cromwell upon 
 Perth laid open the road to England; but on a 
 southward movement, in such a crisis, no hu- 
 man being could have calculated. Nay, so 
 little was that movement approved at the head- 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 175 
 
 quarters ef the royal army, that a threat of de- 
 sertion by the English cavalies alone induced 
 Leslie to consent to it. There is, therefore, 
 no blame justly attributable to Cromwell, as 
 if he hid left England exposed to invasion; 
 because the invasion itself was a rash and a 
 desperate step, which men disposed to cast all 
 upon the hazard of a die would alone have 
 taken. 
 
 Respecting the dispositions made, so soon 
 as the truth became known, for a rapid and ef- 
 fective pursuit, only one opinion can be form- 
 ed. They were all of them excellent; whether 
 we look to the prompt detaching of the cavalry 
 by the great north road,^to the calling out of 
 the militias, or to the close and tenacious chase 
 undertaken by Cromwell himself. It may be 
 that the king loitered a little by the way; and 
 it is certain that, having determined to risk all 
 upon a single manoeuvre, he ought to have 
 pushed it to the extreme; yet the very slack- 
 ness of his friends to join, which caused these 
 delays, bears the best testimony to the pru- 
 dence with which Cromwell had taken his 
 measures. 
 
 Finally, the battle of Worcester, though un- 
 dertaken will) very supreior numbers, might of 
 itself suffice to place Cromwell high upon the 
 list of military commanders. To pass even one 
 deep river in the face of an enem\ is not an 
 easy matter : Cromwell passed two, and the 
 royalists were total I \ destroyed. 
 
 Were we to set up a comparison between 
 Oliver Cromwell and any of the renowned 
 
170 THE LIFE OF 
 
 generals of modern times, we should do fla- 
 grant injustice to both pirties. A man can be 
 fairly estimated only when brought into con- 
 trast with those who were his personal rivals 
 in the art which they severally practised, be- 
 cause in all arts, and in the art of war more, 
 perhaps, than in others, such changes occur 
 from age to age, that between those who were 
 accounted masters in each, few points of re- 
 semblance are to be found. 
 
 There may be great activity displayed by 
 both, great foresight and prudence; yet the in- 
 struments which they respectively wielded are 
 in their nature so dissimilar, that you cannot 
 place the artists themselves in legitimate contra- 
 riety. No man would think of comparing the 
 ship-builder of Charles I.'s time with the ship- 
 builder of the 19th century ; and as little may 
 the military leader in the civil wars be con- 
 trasted with the late emperor of the French, or 
 the duke of Wellington. But if we confine our 
 attention to the times in which he lived, — if we 
 compare Cromwell with prince Rupert, with 
 Charles himself, with Massey, and even with 
 Leslie, — it will be found that he far excelled 
 them all in every point necessary to the forma- 
 tion of a great military character. He was not 
 less brave than the hravest of them ; he fell 
 short of none in activity ; he was more vigilant 
 than any ; calculated more justly ; and, above 
 all, surpassed them in an extraordinary degree 
 in his powers of reading the workings of men's 
 passions. Yet we do not hesitate to avow our 
 persuasions that nature, though she gave to him 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 177 
 
 all the qualifications required to produce a sol- 
 dier, intended Cromwell for a politician or a 
 statesman, rather than for a general. 
 
 Cromwell's personal appearance is so well 
 known, that we shall not waste much time in 
 describing it. To a figure which conveyed the 
 idea rather of strength than of symmetry, he 
 united a countenance full indeed of expression, 
 but exhibiting none of the lines of beauty. His 
 nose, uncommonly large and red, became the 
 subject of much low wit among his adversaries; 
 and his weatherbeaten and sallow complexion 
 has be^n commemorated in more than one ribald 
 epigram. His manners, again, varied accord- 
 ing to the society into which he chanced to be 
 thrown, and the circumstances which surround- 
 ed him. Among his soldiers he was generally 
 familiar and easy, seizing the men by their but- 
 tons, and, like Napoleon indicating his good 
 humour by a slight tap on the ear ; yet could 
 he draw himself up in a moment, and even as- 
 sume an air of excessive haughtiness. In like 
 manner, it was with him no unnusual practice 
 to intermingle in the most extraordinary degree, 
 levity with seriousness. In the midst of the 
 grave discussions of his council he would sud- 
 denly play off some practical joke ; either pull- 
 ing off the wigs of such as sat next him, or 
 throwing a cushion at their heads. One or two 
 instances of such conduct have been given in the 
 coarse of this narrative; and there are many be- 
 sides which rest on evidence not less satisfacto- 
 ry. 
 
 12 
 
178 THE LIFE OF 
 
 We abstain from noticing the ability with 
 which Cromwell wielded the army, for the pur- 
 pose first of securing, and afterwards of preserv- 
 ing, his own civil greatness. The consideration 
 of that point in his character lies beyond our 
 present province, as does the review of his gen- 
 eral policy, both foreign and domestic Never- 
 theless, he who examines these B objects will 
 find in them strong corroborative proofs, th.it the 
 mind of the protector was more that of a politi- 
 cian than of a warrior. It is, indeed, true, 
 that no man can attain to the high renown (if a 
 general of the first order unless he be at the 
 same time largely endowed with those qualities 
 which are supposed to belong exclusively to the 
 statesman, because the guidance of an annv, 
 and especially of an English annv, requires 
 much more than an intimate acquaintance with 
 strategy. Bat as we have already hinted, it is 
 with us a natter of considerable doubt, whether 
 Cromwell can be classed in the very first rank 
 of military commanders ; and it i-; of men be- 
 longing to that rank, and to that rank alone, that 
 we would be understood as asserting th.it thev 
 have been found eye* to unite the argacitj of the 
 politician with the skill of the general. 
 
 Cromwell's wife survived him, as did five of 
 his children, two sons, and three daughters. 
 His dying wish uas immediately carried into 
 effect, and Richard, the elder of his sons held 
 for a brief space, and with a feeble hand, the 
 reins of government 
 
 i • : I I N r . 
 
180 ON THE BRITISH 
 
 ON THE 
 
 BRITISH CONSTITUTION 
 
 The rudiments of the constitution of England 
 may be traced as far back as the Norman con- 
 quest. William distributed a great proportion 
 of the lands among his Norman followers, sub- 
 jecting these, as well as the Anglo-Saxons who 
 retained their property to the feudal tenures, 
 and thus extinguishing at once the ancient lib- 
 erties of the people. England was divided into 
 60,215 military fiefs, all held of the crown, un- 
 der the obligation of the vassal's taking arms for 
 his sovereign whenever required. In the conti- 
 nental kingdoms of Europe, as in France, the 
 feudal system arose by slow degrees, nor was 
 there of consequence the same union of the fab- 
 ric as in England. The feudal lords were inde- 
 pendent of one another, ever at variance from 
 their mutual pretensions, and often owing but a 
 very slander allegiance to the crown. Their 
 vassals suffered Irom oppression, and often 
 struggled for their freedom ; but thos« efforts 
 
CONSTITUTION. 181 
 
 being partial produced no consequence favoura- 
 ble to the liberty of the nation. In England all 
 were oppressed by the enormous weight of the 
 crown ; it was a common grievance, and produc- 
 ed at times a violent effort for the general liber- 
 ties of the people. 
 
 The forest-laws imposed by the conqueror 
 were a grievance felt by the whole nation, as 
 rendering every man's property precarious, and 
 subject to the arbitrary encroachments of the 
 crown. It was no wonder that the barons and 
 their vassals should cordially unite to rid them- 
 selves of so intolerable a hardship. Henry I. 
 found it necessary to conciliate his subjects, by 
 mitigating the most rigorous of the feudal laws. 
 A greater advance was made under Henry II, 
 by the institution of the trial by jury, liut John 
 imprudently resisting this natural progress to- 
 ward a rational freedom, Was soon compelled 
 into those important concessions, the Charta de 
 Farejita and Magna Charta. From that time 
 the constitution of England was that of a limited 
 monarchy, whatever we may judge of the actu- 
 al government, which was often most arbitrary 
 and despotical. 
 
 The next memorable era in the progress of 
 the English constitution was the reign of that 
 weak prince Henry III, when the parliament 
 received a new form, by the admissiou of the 
 representatives of the people, the deputies of 
 the counties and borough* His successor YA- 
 ward l. acknowledged their authority is obtain- 
 ing all his subsidies, and ratified a new law, 
 which declared, that no tax should be levied 
 
182 ON THE BRITISH 
 
 without the consent of lords and commons. 
 The Magna Charta was confirmed no less 
 th;in eleven times in the course of this reign. 
 
 Thus the constitution continued advancing till 
 its progress was suspended bv the civil wars of 
 York and Lancaster. The rights of both prince 
 and people seemed then to be entirely forgotten; 
 and the race of Tudor found no resistance from 
 parliament to their vigorous and despotic swav. 
 Tne talents of Elizabeth, and the high character 
 which her government sustained with foreign 
 powers, extinguished all domestic di>qui» ts, 
 while the predominent feeling was the mainten- 
 ance of the power and dignity of the crown. 
 
 But under the succeeding prince, when his 
 power and dignity were abased by his own 
 weakness, the nation began to awake from its 
 lethargy ; and that spirit of opposition, which 
 in this rei^n confined itself to complaints, in the 
 next broke forth with alarming violence. 
 Charles I, endowed with superior energy of 
 character, acted, as he conceived, on a princi- 
 ple of duty, which obliged him to main'ain the 
 prerogative of his predecessors, and to transmit 
 it unimpaired to his posterity ; but he was im- 
 prudent in exerting with rigour an authority 
 which he wanted ultimate resources to support. 
 He was compelled to sinn the Petition of 
 Rights, a «rant more favourable to liberty than 
 Magna Charta. The true patriots were satis- 
 fied with this concession, which conferred the 
 HMMt ample constitutional freedom. Hut the 
 popular leaders made patriotism the cloak of 
 insatiable ambition ; and advanced in their de- 
 
CONSTITUTION, 183 
 
 mands with every new compliance. The last 
 appeal was made to the sword, and the contest 
 ended in the destruction of the constitution. 
 
 The despotism which succeeded, and the 
 fluctuation of power from the long parliament 
 to the protector, and finally to the leaders of a 
 standing army, afforded demonstrative evidence 
 how vain was the project of a republic, under 
 which the demagogues had masked their designs. 
 Weary of anarchy, the nation returned with 
 high satisfaction to the best of all constitutions, 
 a limited monarchy. 
 
 New encroachments under Charles II. pro- 
 duced new limitations ; and the act of Habeas 
 Corpus gave the utmost possible security to 
 personal liberty. The violent and frantic inva- 
 sion of the constitution by James II, banished 
 himself and his posterity from the throne, and. 
 produced a new and solemn contract between 
 the kins and the people. Regarding, therefore, 
 the revolution as the final settlement of the Eng- 
 lish constitution, we shall endeavour briefly to 
 delineate the chief features of that great politi- 
 cal structure. 
 
 The constitution of Great Britain may be 
 viewed under two distinct bends, the legislative 
 power, and the executive power ; the last com- 
 prehendinsr the prerogative of the cown. 
 
 The power of legislation belongs to parlia- 
 ment, whose constituent parts are, the king, 
 lords, and commons. The house of lords con- 
 sists of the temporal peers of England, and of 
 the spiritual, or the two archbishops and twenty- 
 four bishops. To these, since the unions with 
 
134 ON THE BRITISH 
 
 Scotland ami Ireland, are added sixteen dele- 
 gates from the peerage of the former kingdom, 
 and thirty-two from the latter. 1 he ho*M of 
 commons consists of the deputies of the coun- 
 ties and principal towns of England, and the two 
 universities, amounting in all to 513 members; 
 to whom, since the anions, are added 45 from 
 Scotland and 100 from Ireland. These deputies 
 are chosen by the freeholders who possess a 
 property yielding a certain yearly rent. The 
 chancellor generally presides in the house of 
 lords ; the speaker is president in the house of 
 commons. 
 
 The king is the most essential component 
 part of parliament, because he alone has the 
 power to convoke, prorogue and dissolve it. 
 lie has likewise a negative on all its acts, which 
 are invalid without his approbation ; and each 
 hoose has a negative on the decrees of the oth- 
 er. It is likewise eon petent to the king to pro- 
 pose any measure to be laid before the parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 All questions regarding public affairs and na- 
 tional measures may originate in either house of 
 parliament, except grants of money, which most 
 always take their rise in the hoeee of commons, 
 and cannot be altered, though they may be re- 
 jected, by the lords. Any matter must be pri- 
 marily discussed in that house in which it ori^- 
 iintes. jind, until it is there deckled, cannot be 
 received by the other house, unless a confer- 
 ence should be demanded, A hill refused by 
 either house is utterly void; and a bill passed by 
 both houses is void, if refused by the king. 
 
CONSTITUTION. 185 
 
 The executive power of government is vesled 
 in the king. The first branch of his office is the 
 administration of justice. The judges of all 
 courts of judicature are the king's substitutes. 
 He is the prosecutor of all crimes, and has the 
 power of pardoning and suspending the execu- 
 tion of all sentences. He is the fountain of all 
 honour, the giver of all titles and dignities, and 
 the disposer of all the offices of state. He is 
 the superintendant of commerce, and has the 
 power of regulating weights and measures, and 
 of coining money. He is the h«>ad of the church, 
 and names the archbishops and bishop*. He is 
 commander in chief of all the sea and land for- 
 ces, and can alone equip fleets, levy armies, and 
 appoint all their officers. He has the power of 
 making war, peace, and alliance, and of send- 
 ing and receiving ambassadors. He is above the 
 reach of all courts of justice, and is not respon- 
 sible to any judicature for his conduct in the ad- 
 ministration of government. 
 
 These high powers of the sovereign, which, 
 at first siirht, would seem to render him an ab- 
 solute monarch, are thus admirably controlled. 
 The king is dependent on parliament for all sub- 
 sidies, without which he can neither maintain 
 his fleets and armies, nor pay the salaries of 
 officers. The parliament indeed settles a rev- 
 enue on the king for life, hut this is merely suf- 
 ficient for the maintenance of his household, and 
 for supporting a proper dignity of establishment. 
 As the kind's revenue must be renewed by par- 
 liament at the beginning of every reign, it is in 
 their power to withhold it till all abuses shall be 
 
186 ON THE BRITISH 
 
 remedied. At those periods therefore the con- 
 stitution may be brought back to its first princi- 
 ples, and all encroachments of the prerogative 
 may be brought back to its first principles, and 
 all encroachments of the prerogative may be re- 
 strained. 
 
 The king can never reign without a parlia- 
 ment. It must by law be assembled once in 
 three years, on a notice of forty days before its 
 meeting. Though the king is the head of the 
 church, yet he cannot alter the established re- 
 ligion, nor frame ecclesiastical regulations. 
 These mu-t be made, by the assembly of the 
 clergy. The king cannot interfere in the ordi- 
 nary administration of justice, nor refuse his con- 
 sent to the prosecution of crimes. He may par- 
 don offences, but cannot exempt the offender 
 from pecuniary conmt nation to the party in- 
 jured. He cannot alter the standard of money, 
 either in weight or alloy. He cannot raise an 
 army without the consent of parliament ; and 
 though a moderate standing f>rce is kept up 
 with their consent, yet the funds for its pay- 
 ment require an annual renewal by parliament. 
 Thoogh the sovereign is not amenable to any 
 judicature, yet his ministers are responsible for 
 all the measures of government, and are im- 
 peaehahle by the commons at the bar of the 
 hou^e of lord-!, for every species of misconduct 
 or niisdemeanour. 
 
 The freedom of parliamentary discussion is 
 secured, because no mentber can be questioned 
 for any opinions or words, except in that house 
 of parliament in which they were uttored. 
 
CONSTITUTION. 187 
 
 The personal security and the rights of the 
 subject are further guarded by these three pecu- 
 liarities of the British constitution, the habeas 
 corpus, trial by juries, and the liberty of the 
 press. By the act of habeas corpus, every 
 prisoner must be brought before a judge, the 
 cause of his detainer certified, and the judge's 
 authority interposed to it. The violation of this 
 statute is punishable by the highest penalties. 
 The habeas corpus may be suspended in times 
 of danger to the state, as during the existence of 
 a conspiracy or rebellion. Though this act does 
 not extend to Scotland, yet the subjects of that 
 part of the united kingdoms are equally secured 
 by their own laws. 
 
 All crimes must be tried by a jury of twelve 
 men in England and Ireland, and fifteen in Scot- 
 land. The prisoner has a right of challenging or 
 objecting to the jurors; and (except in Scotland), 
 without showing any cause, he may challenge 
 twenty successively in ordinary cases, and thirty- 
 five in eases of treason. The jury are judges 
 both of the law and the fact ; nor has the opin- 
 ion of the court any weight in their decision, but 
 such as they choose to give it. 
 
 The liberty of the press is a guardian of the 
 constitution, because it is competent for any in- 
 dividual to convey to the public his opinion of 
 the whole conduct of government, and the merits 
 of its conductors ; to canvass every counsel of 
 state, and to examine every public measure ; 
 thus forcibly restraining all ministers and magis- 
 trates within lite limits of their duty. It is fur- 
 ther the guardian of injured innocence, and the 
 
183 ON THE BRITISH 
 
 redresser of all wrongs that evade the cogni- 
 zance of law. Yet this most valuable right, if! 
 unrestrained, would he the source of the great- 
 est mischief. If it were allowahle with impuni- 
 ty to assail the established government, to con- 
 vulse society, to disseminate atheism, to injure 
 the reputation, or to endanger the life and prop- ■ 
 erty, of individuals, by false accusations, there 
 would bo an end of all liberty and civil happi- 
 ness. The liberty of the press consists in this, 
 that there is no examination of writings previous 
 to the printing and publishing of them ; But, 
 after publication, such writings as offend in any 
 of the above particulars are punishable by law, 
 on trial of the offence by jurv. Thus the public 
 is properly constituted the judge and censor of 
 all writings addressed to itself. 
 
 Such are briefly the outlines of the admirable 
 fabric of the British constitution. JEsto Perpet- 
 ua ! {may it exist forever .') 
 
SUCCESSION OF SOVEREIGNS. 
 
 THE SEXON HEPTARCHY. 
 
 The kingdom of Kent contained only the coun- 
 ty of Kent; its kings were, 
 
 1 Ilengist, began 
 
 454 
 
 10 Edrick 
 
 6S5 
 
 2 Eske 
 
 488 
 
 11 Withdred 
 
 6»5 
 
 3 Octa 
 
 4 Ymbrick 
 
 512 
 534 
 
 19 5 Eadbert ) 
 lZ } Edelbert 5 
 
 725 
 
 5 Ethelbert 
 
 568 
 
 13 Ethelbert 
 
 743 
 
 6 Ed bald 
 
 616 
 
 14 Aidric 
 
 760 
 
 7 Ercornbert 
 
 640 
 
 15 Ethelbert pre 
 
 ti794 
 
 8 Egbert 
 
 664 
 
 16 Cudred 
 
 799 
 
 9 Lolhaire 
 
 673 
 
 17 Buldred 
 
 .805 
 
 This kingdom began 454, ended 823. Its first 
 Christian king was Ethelbert. 
 
190 SUCCESSION OF 
 
 The kingdom of South Saxons contained the 
 
 counties of Sussex dad Surrey; its 
 
 kings were, 
 
 1 Ella, began 
 
 2 Cissa 
 
 491 
 514 
 
 6 \?} n &? ] 
 
 ( Quicelm } 
 
 611 
 
 3 Chevelin 
 
 590 
 
 7 Canowalch 
 
 643 
 
 4 Ceolwic 
 
 592 
 
 6 Adelwach 
 
 548 
 
 5 Ceoluph 
 
 597 
 
 
 
 This kingdom began 491, ended 685. Its first 
 Christian king was Adelwach. 
 
 The kingdom of East Saxons contained the 
 
 counties of Essex and Middlesex; 
 
 its kings were, 
 
 1 Erchenwin 
 
 527 
 
 5 Sigebar the little 623 
 
 2 Sledda 
 
 58") 
 
 6 Sigebert the good 658 
 
 3 Sebert 
 
 598 
 
 7 Swithelme 655 
 
 ( Sexred i 
 
 
 8 Sighere & Sebbi 665 
 
 4 < Seward > 
 
 616 
 
 9 Sebbi 6S3 
 
 ( Sigebert ) 
 
 
 
 , A S Sigherd ? 
 10 \ Seofrid \ 
 
 694 
 
 12 Ceolfred 709 
 
 13 Suithred 746 
 
 11 Offa 
 
 700 
 
 14 Sigered 799 
 
 This kingdom began 527, ended 827; its first 
 Christian king was Sebert. 
 
 The kingdom of Northumberland contained 
 Yorkshire, Durham, Lancashire, Westmore- 
 land, Cumberland, and Northumberland ; its 
 kings were. 
 
SOVEREIGNS. 161 
 
 1 Ella, or Ida, began, 547—2 Adda, 659— 
 3 Clappea, 566—4 Theodaald, 572—5 Fri- 
 dulph, 573 — 6 Theodorick, 579—7 Athelrick, 
 586—8 Athelfrid, 593—9 Edwin, 617—10 
 Osrir, 633— 11 Oswald, 634 — 12 Oswy, 643 
 13 Ethel ward, 653—14 Egfrid, 670—15 Alk- 
 f rv ,|, 685—16 Osred, 1. 705—17 Geared, 716 
 — 18 Osrick, 7 IS— 19 Ceolulphe, 730—20 
 Euhert. 737— 21 Oswulph, 758— 22 Edilwald, 
 759 — 23 Alured, 765—24 Atheldred, 774— 
 25 Alswald, I. 779—26 Osred If. 789—27 
 Elheldred restored, 790—28 Osbald, 796—29 
 Ardulph, 797—30 Alsvvald, II. 807—31 An- 
 dred, 810. 
 
 This Kingdom began 547, ended 827. Its first 
 Christian king was Edwin. 
 
 The kingdom of Mercia contained the counties 
 of Huntingdon, Rutland, Lincoln, Northamp- 
 ton, Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, Oxford, 
 Chester, Salop, Gloucester, Worcester, Staf- 
 ford, Warwick, Buckingham, Bedford, and 
 Hertford. Its kings were, 
 
 1 Creda, began, 585—2 Wibba, 595— 3 
 Cherohs, 616—4 Penda, 625—5 Peada, 656 
 —6 Wolf here, 659— 7 Ethelred, 675— S Ken- 
 red, 704—9 Ceolred, 709—10 Ethalbald, 716 
 —11 Offh, 757— 12 Egfrvd, 794— 13 Cenolf, 
 795—14 Kenelnoe, 819—15 Ceolwolf, 819— 
 16 Burnulf, S 2 1—17 Ludecan, S23— 18 Wig- 
 laf«, 825. 
 
SOVEREIGNS FROM THE CONQUEST 
 
 Norman Family. 
 VV. Conq. began his R«i<:n in 1066 — W 
 Rufus, 1087— Henry 1, 1 100— Stephen, 113-3 
 
 The Saxon Line restored. 
 Henry 2, 1154— Richard 1, 1189— John 
 1199— Henry 3, 1216— Edward 1, 1272- 
 Edvvard 2, 1307— Edward 3, 1327— Richard 
 2, 1377. 
 
 The Family of Lancaster. 
 Henry 4, 1399— Henry 5, 1413— Henrv 6 
 1422 
 
 The Family of York. 
 Edward 4, 1461— Edward 5, 1483— Rich- 
 ard 3, 1483. 
 
 The Families United. 
 Henrv 7, 1485— Henry 8. 1509— Edward 6 
 1547— Queen Mary, 1553— Elizabeth, 155S. 
 
 House of Stunt. 
 James 1, 1603— Charles 1, 1625— Charles 
 
 2, 1649— James 2, 1685— William and .Mary. 
 1689— Queen Anne, 1702. 
 
 House of Guelph. 
 George 1, 17 14 — George 2, 1727 — George 
 
 3, 1760— George 4, Lg 
 
 House of Kent. 
 Queen Victoria, 1337. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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