The History of England (B)
By John Lingard

Chapter V.

Vigilance Of The Government–Subjugation Of Ireland–Of Scotland–Negotiation With Portugal–With Spain–With The United Provinces–Naval War–Ambition Of Cromwell–Expulsion Of Parliament–Character Of Its Leading Members–Some Of Its Enactments.

In the preceding chapter we have followed the fortunes of Charles Stuart, from his landing in Scotland to his defeat at Worcester and his escape to the continent; we may now look back and direct our attention to some of the more important events which occurred during the same period, in England and Ireland.

1. The reader is aware that the form of government established in England was an oligarchy. A few individuals, under the cover of a nominal parliament, ruled the kingdom with the power of the sword. Could the sense of the nation have been collected, there cannot be a doubt that the old royalists of the Cavalier, and the new royalists of the Presbyterian party, would have formed a decided majority; but they were awed into silence and submission by the presence of a standing army of forty-five thousand men; and the maxim that “power gives right” was held out as a sufficient reason why they should swear fidelity to the commonwealth.[1] This numerous army,

[Footnote 1: See Marchamont Nedham’s “Case of the Commonwealth Stated." 4to. London, 1650.]

the real source of their security, proved, however, a cause of constant solicitude to the leaders. The pay of the officers and men was always in arrear; the debentures which they received could be seldom exchanged for money without a loss of fifty, sixty, or seventy per cent.; and the plea of necessity was accepted as an excuse for the illegal claim of free quarters which they frequently exercised. To supply their wants, recourse was therefore had to additional taxation, with occasional grants from the excise, and large sales of forfeited property;[1] and, to appease the discontent of the people, promises were repeatedly made, that a considerable portion of the armed force should be disbanded, and the practice of free quarter be abolished. But of these promises, the first proved a mere delusion; for, though some partial reductions were made, on the whole the amount of the army continued to increase; the second was fulfilled; but in return, the burthen of taxation was augmented; for the monthly assessment on the counties gradually swelled from sixty to ninety, to one hundred and twenty, and in conclusion, to one hundred and sixty thousand pounds.[2]

Another subject of disquietude sprung out of those principles of liberty which, even after the suppression of the late mutiny, were secretly cherished and occasionally avowed, by the soldiery. Many, indeed, confided in the patriotism, and submitted to the judgment, of their officers; but there were also many who condemned the existing government as a desertion of the

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1649, April 18, Oct. 4; 1650, March 30; 1651, Sept. 2, Dec. 17; 1652, April 7.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, 1649, April 7, Aug. 1, Dec. 7; 1650, May 21, Nov. 26; 1651, April 15, Sept. 1, Dec. 19; 1652, Dec. 10; 1653, Nov. 24.]

good cause in which they had originally embarked. By the latter Lilburne was revered as an apostle and a martyr; they read with avidity the publications which repeatedly issued from his cell; and they condemned as persecutors and tyrants the men who had immured him and his companions in the Tower. Preparations had been made[a] to bring them to trial as the authors of the late mutiny; but, on more mature deliberation, the project was abandoned,[b] and an act was passed making it treason to assert that the government was tyrannical, usurped, or unlawful. No enactments, however, could check the hostility of Lilburne; and a new pamphlet from his pen,[c] in vindication of “The Legal Fundamental Liberties of the People," put to the test the resolution of his opponents. They shrunk from the struggle; it was judged more prudent to forgive, or more dignified to despise, his efforts; and, on his petition for leave to visit his sick family, he obtained his discharge.[1]

But this lenity made no impression on his mind. In the course of six weeks he published[d] two more offensive tracts, and distributed them among the soldiery. A new mutiny broke out at Oxford; its speedy suppression emboldened the council; the demagogue was reconducted[e] to his cell in the Tower; and Keble, with forty other commissioners, was appointed[f] to try him for his last offence on the recent statute of treasons. It may, perhaps, be deemed a weakness in Lilburne that he now offered[g] on certain conditions to transport himself to America; but he redeemed his character, as soon as he was placed at the bar. He repelled with scorn the charges of the

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1649, April 11, May 12, July 18. Council Book May 2. Whitelock, 414.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. April 11.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. May 12.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. June 8.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. July 18.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1649. Sept. 6.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1649. Sept. 14.] [Sidenote g: A.D. 1649. Oct. 24.]

prosecutors and the taunts of the court, electrified the audience by frequent appeals to Magna Charta and the liberties of Englishmen, and stoutly maintained the doctrine that the jury had a right to judge of the law as well as of the fact. It was in vain that the court pronounced this opinion “the most damnable heresy ever broached in the land,” and that the government employed all its influence to win or intimidate the jurors; after a trial of three days, Lilburne, obtained a verdict of acquittal.[1]

Whether after his liberation[a] any secret compromise took place is uncertain. He subscribed the engagement, and, though he openly explained it in a sense conformable to his own principles, yet the parliament made to him out of the forfeited lands of the deans and chapters the grant[b] of a valuable estate, as a compensation for the cruel treatment which he had formerly suffered from the court of the Star-Chamber.[2] Their bounty, however, wrought no change in his character. He was still the indomitable denouncer of oppression wherever he found it, and before the end of the next year he drew upon himself the vengeance of the men in power, by the distribution[c] of a pamphlet which charged Sir Arthur Hazlerig and the commissioners at Haberdashers’-hall with injustice and tyranny. This by the house was voted a breach of privilege, and the offender was condemned[d] in a fine of seven thousand pounds with banishment for life. Probably the court of Star-chamber never pronounced a judgment in which the punishment was more disproportionate to the offence. But his former enemies sought

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1649, Sept 11, Oct. 30. Whitelock, 424, 425. State Trials, ii. 151.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 436. Journ. 1650, July 16, 30.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1649. Dec. 29.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. July 30.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Dec. 22.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1652. Jan. 15.]

not justice on the culprit, but security to themselves. They seized the opportunity of freeing the government from the presence of a man whom they had so long feared; and, as he refused to kneel at the bar while judgment was pronounced, they embodied the vote in an act of parliament. To save his life, Lilburne submitted; but his residence on the continent was short: the reader will soon meet with him again in England.[1]

The Levellers had boldly avowed their object; the royalists worked in the dark and by stealth; yet the council by its vigilance and promptitude proved a match for the open hostility of the one and the secret machinations of the other. A doubt may, indeed, be raised of the policy of the “engagement,” a promise of fidelity to the commonwealth without king or house of lords. As long as it was confined to those who held office under the government, it remained a mere question of choice; but when it was exacted from all Englishmen above seventeen years of age, under the penalty of incapacity to maintain an action in any court of law, it became to numbers a matter of necessity, and served rather to irritate than to produce security.[2] A more efficient measure was the permanent establishment of a high court of justice to inquire into offences against the state, to which was added the organization of a system of espionage by Captain Bishop, under the direction of Scot, a member of the council. The friends of monarchy, encouraged by the clamour of the Levellers and the professions of the Scots, had begun to hold meetings,

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1651, Dec. 23; 1652, Jan. 15, 20, 30. Whitelock, 520. State Trials, v. 407-415.]

[Footnote 2: Leicester’s Journal, 97-101.]

sometimes under the pretence of religious worship, sometimes under that of country amusements: in a short time they divided the kingdom into districts called associations, in each of which it was supposed that a certain number of armed men might be raised; and blank commissions with the royal signature were obtained, to be used in appointing colonels, captains, and lieutenants, for the command of these forces. Then followed an active correspondence both with Charles soon after his arrival in Scotland, and with the earl of Newcastle, the Lord Hopton, and a council of exiles; first at Utrecht, and afterwards at the Hague. By the plan ultimately adopted, it was proposed that Charles himself or Massey, leaving a sufficient force to occupy the English army in Scotland, should, with a strong corps of Cavalry, cross[a] the borders between the kingdoms; that at the same time the royalists in the several associations should rise in arms, and that the exiles in Holland, with five thousand English and German adventurers, should land in Kent, surprise Dover, and hasten to join their Presbyterian associates, in the capital.[1] But, to arrange and insure the co-operation of all the parties concerned required the employment of numerous agents, of whom, if several were actuated by principle, many were of doubtful faith and desperate fortunes. Some of these betrayed their trust; some undertook to serve both parties, and deceived each; and it is a curious fact that, while the letters of the agents for the royalists often passed through the hands of Bishop himself, his secret papers belonging to the council of state were copied and forwarded to the king.[2] This consequence however followed,

[Footnote 1: Milton’s State Papers, 35, 37, 39, 47, 49, 50. Baillie, ii. 5, 8. Carte’s Letters, i. 414.]

[Footnote 2: State Trials, v. 4. Milton’s State Papers, 39, 47, 50, 57. One of these agents employed by both parties was a Mrs. Walters, alias Hamlin, on whose services Bishop placed great reliance. She was to introduce herself to Cromwell by pronouncing the word “prosperity."–Ibid.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. December.]

that the plans of the royalists were always discovered, and by that means defeated by the precautions of the council. While the king was on his way to Scotland, a number of blank commissions had been seized in the possession of Dr. Lewen, a civilian, who suffered[a] the penalty of death. Soon afterwards Sir John Gell, Colonel Eusebius Andrews, and Captain Benson, were arraigned on the charge of conspiring the destruction of the government established by law. They opposed three objections to the jurisdiction of the court: it was contrary to Magna Charta, which gave to every freeman the right of being tried by his peers; contrary to the petition of right, by which courts-martial (and the present court was most certainly a court-martial) had been forbidden; and contrary to the many declarations of parliament, that the laws, the rights of the people, and the courts of justice, should be maintained. But the court repelled[b] the objections; Andrews and Benson suffered death, and Gell, who had not been an accomplice, but only cognizant of the plot, was condemned[c] to perpetual imprisonment, with the forfeiture of his property.[1]

These executions did not repress the eagerness of the royalists, nor relax the vigilance of the council. In the beginning of December the friends of Charles took up arms[d] in Norfolk, but the rising was premature; a body of roundheads dispersed the insurgents; and twenty of the latter atoned for their temerity with their lives. Still the failure of one plot did not prevent

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 464, 468, 473, 474. Heath, 269, 270. See mention of several discoveries in Carte’s Letters, i. 443, 464, 472.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. July 13.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. August 22.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. Oct. 7.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. Dec. 2.]

the formation of another; as long as Charles Stuart was in Scotland, the ancient friends of his family secretly prepared for his reception in England; and many of the Presbyterians, through enmity to the principles of the Independents, devoted themselves to the interests of the prince.[1] This party the council resolved to attack in their chief bulwark, the city; and Love, one of the most celebrated of the ministers, was apprehended[a] with several of his associates. At his trial, he sought to save his life by an evasive protestation, which he uttered with the most imposing solemnity in the presence of the Almighty. But it was clearly proved against him that the meetings had been held in his house, the money collected for the royalists had been placed on his table, and the letters received, and the answers to be returned, had been read in his hearing. After judgment,[b] both he and his friends presented[c] petitions in his favour; respite after respite was obtained and the parliament, as if it had feared to decide without instructions, referred[d] the case to Cromwell in Scotland. That general was instantly assailed with letters from both the friends and the foes of Love; he was silent; a longer time was granted by the house; but he returned no answer, and the unfortunate minister lost his head[e] on Tower-hill with the constancy and serenity of a martyr. Of his associates, only one, Gibbons, a citizen, shared his fate.[2]

[Footnote 1: “It is plaine unto mee that they doe not judge us a lawfull magistracy, nor esteeme anything treason that is acted by them to destroy us, in order to bring the king of Scots as heed of the covenant."–Vane to Cromwell, of “Love and his brethren.” Milton’s State Papers, 84.]

[Footnote 2: Milton’s State Papers, 50, 54, 66, 75, 76. Whitelock, 492, 493, 495, 500. State Trials, v. 43-294. Heath, 288, 290. Leicester’s Journal, 107, 115, 123. A report, probably unfounded, was spread that Cromwell granted him his life, but the despatch was waylaid, and detained, or destroyed by the Cavaliers, who bore in remembrance Love’s former hostility to the royal cause.–Kennet, 185.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. May 7.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. June 5.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. June 11.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. July 15.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1651. August 22.]

2. To Charles it had been whispered by his secret advisers that the war between the parliament and the Scots would, by withdrawing the attention of the council from Ireland, allow the royal party to resume the ascendancy in that kingdom. But this hope quickly vanished. The resources of the commonwealth were seen to multiply with its wants; and its army in Ireland was daily augmented by recruits in the island, and by reinforcements from England. Ireton, to whom Cromwell, with the title of lord deputy, had left[a] the chief command, pursued with little interruption the career of his victorious predecessor. Sir Charles Coote met the men of Ulster at Letterkenny; after a long and sanguinary action they were defeated; and the next day their leader, MacMahon, the warrior bishop of Clogher, was made prisoner by a fresh corps of troops from Inniskilling.[1] Lady Fitzgerald, a name as illustrious in the military annals of Ireland as that of Lady Derby in those of England, defended the fortress of Trecoghan, but neither the efforts of Sir Robert Talbot within, nor the gallant attempt of Lord Castlehaven without, could prevent its surrender.[2] Waterford, Carlow, and Charlemont accepted honourable conditions, and the garrison of Duncannon, reduced to a handful of men by the ravages of the plague, opened its gates[b] to the enemy.[3] Ormond, instead of facing

[Footnote 1: Though he had quarter given and life promised, Coote ordered him to be hanged. Yet it was by MacMahon’s persuasion that O’Neil in the preceding year had saved Coote by raising the siege of Londonderry.–Clarendon, Short View, &c., in vol. viii. 145-149. But Coote conducted the war like a savage. See several instances at the end of Lynch’s Cambresis Eversus.]

[Footnote 2: See Castlehaven’s Memoirs, 120-124; and Carte’s Ormond, ii. 116.]

[Footnote 3: Heath, 267, 370. Whitelock, 457, 459, 463, 464, 469.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. June 18.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. June 25.]

the conquerors in the field, had been engaged in a long and irritating controversy with those of the Catholic leaders who distrusted his integrity, and with the townsmen of Limerick and Galway, who refused to admit his troops within their walls. Misfortune had put an end to his authority; his enemies remarked that whether he were a real friend or a secret foe, the cause of the confederates had never prospered under his guidance; and the bishops conjured him,[a] now that the very existence of the nation was at stake, to adopt measures which might heal the public dissensions and unite all true Irishmen in the common defence. Since the loss of Munster by the defection of Inchiquin’s forces, they had entertained an incurable distrust of their English allies; and to appease their jealousy, he dismissed the few Englishmen who yet remained in the service. Finding them rise in their demands, he called a general assembly at Loughrea, announced his intention, or pretended intention, of quitting the kingdom; and then, at the general request, and after some demur, consented to remain. Hitherto the Irish had cherished the expectation that the young monarch would, as he had repeatedly promised, come to Ireland, and take the reins of government into his hands; they now, to their disappointment, learned that he had accepted the invitation of the Scots, their sworn and inveterate enemies. In a short time, the conditions to which he had subscribed began to transpire; that he had engaged to annul the late pacification between Ormond and the Catholics, and had bound himself by oath,[b] not only not to permit the exercise of the Catholic worship, but to root out the Catholic religion wherever it existed in any of his dominions. A general gloom and despondency prevailed; ten bishops and

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. March 28.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. August 6.]

ten clergymen assembled at James-town, and their first resolve was to depute[a] two of their number to the lord lieutenant, to request that he would put in execution his former design of quitting the kingdom, and would leave his authority in the hands of a Catholic deputy possessing the confidence of the nation. Without, however, waiting for his answer, they proceeded to frame[b] a declaration, in which they charged Ormond with negligence, incapacity, and perfidy; protested that, though they were compelled by the great duty of self-preservation to withdraw from the government of the king’s lieutenant, they had no intention to derogate from the royal authority; and pronounced that, in the existing circumstances, the Irish people were no longer bound by the articles of the pacification, but by the oath under which they had formerly associated for their common protection. To this, the next day[c] they appended a form of excommunication equally affecting all persons who should abet either Ormond or Ireton, in opposition to the real interests of the Catholic confederacy.[1]

The lord lieutenant, however, found that he was supported by some of the prelates, and by most of the aristocracy. He replied[d] to the synod at James-town, that nothing short of necessity should induce him to quit Ireland without the order of the king; and the commissioners of trust expostulated[e] with the bishops on their imprudence and presumption. But at this moment arrived copies of the declaration which Charles had been compelled to publish at Dunfermling, in Scotland. The whole population was in a ferment. Their suspicions, they exclaimed, were now verified;

[Footnote 1: Ponce, Vindiciae Eversae, 236-257. Clarendon, viii. 151, 154, 156. Hibernia Dominicana, 691. Carte, ii. 118, 120, 123.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. August 10.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. August 11.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. August 12.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. August 31.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. Sept. 2.]

their fears and predictions accomplished. The king had pronounced them a race of “bloody rebels;” he had disowned them for his subjects, he had anulled the articles of pacification, and had declared[a] to the whole world that he would exterminate their religion. In this excited temper of mind, the committee appointed by the bishops published both the declaration and the excommunication. A single night intervened; their passions had leisure to cool; they repented[b] of their precipitancy; and, by the advice of the prelates in the town of Galway, they published a third paper, suspending the effect of the other two.

Ormond’s first expedient was to pronounce the Dunfermling declaration a forgery; for the king from Breda, previously to his voyage to Scotland, had solemnly assured him that he would never, for any earthly consideration, violate the pacification. A second message[c] informed him that it was genuine, but ought to be considered of no force, as far as it concerned Ireland, because it had been issued without the advice of the Irish privy council.[1] This communication encouraged

[Footnote 1: Carte’s letters, i. 391. Charles’s counsellors at Breda had instilled into him principles which he seems afterwards to have cherished through life: “that honour and conscience were bugbears, and that the king ought to govern himself rather by the rules of prudence and necessity."–Ibid. Nicholas to Ormond, 435. At first Charles agreed to find some way “how he might with honour and justice break the peace with the Irish, if a free parliament in Scotland should think it fitting” afterwards "to break it, but on condition that it should not be published till he had acquainted Ormond and his friends, secured them, and been instructed how with honour and justice he might break it in regard of the breach on their part” (p. 396, 397). Yet a little before he had resolutely declared that no consideration should induce him to violate the same peace (p. 374, 379). On his application afterwards for aid to the pope, he excused it, saying, "fuisse vim manifestam: jam enim statuerant Scoti presbyterani personam suam parliamento Anglicano tradere, si illam declarationem ab ipsis factam non approbasset.” Ex originali penes me.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Sept. 15.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Sept. 16.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. Oct. 15.]

the lord lieutenant to assume a bolder tone. He professed[a] himself ready to assert, that both the king and his officers on one part, and the Catholic population on the other, were bound by the provisions of the treaty; but he previously required that the commissioners of trust should condemn the proceedings of the synod at James-town, and join with him in punishing such of its members as should persist in their disobedience. They made proposals[b] to the prelates, and received for answer, that protection and obedience were correlative; and, therefore, since the king had publicly excluded them, under the designation of “bloody rebels,” from his protection, they could not understand how any officer acting by his authority could lay claim to their obedience.[1]

This answer convinced Ormond that it was time for him to leave Ireland; but, before his departure, he called a general assembly, and selected the marquess of Clanricard, a Catholic nobleman, to command as his deputy. To Clanricard, whose health was infirm, and whose habits were domestic, nothing could be more unwelcome than such an appointment. Wherever he cast his eyes he was appalled by the prospect before him. He saw three-fourths of Ireland in the possession of a restless and victorious enemy; Connaught and Clare, which alone remained to the royalists, were depopulated by famine and pestilence; and political and religious dissension divided the leaders and their followers, while one party attributed the national disasters to the temerity of the men who presumed to govern under the curse of excommunication; and the other charged their opponents with concealing disloyal and interested views under the mantle of patriotism

[Footnote 1: Ponce, 257-261.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Oct. 23.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Oct. 29.]

and religion. Every prospect of successful resistance was gone; the Shannon, their present protection from the foe, would become fordable in the spring; and then the last asylum of Irish independence must be overrun.[1] Under such discouraging circumstances it required all the authority of Ormond and Castlehaven to induce him to accept an office which opened no prospect of emolument or glory, but promised a plentiful harvest of contradiction, hardship, and danger.

In the assembly which was held[a] at Loughrea, the majority of the members disapproved of the conduct of the synod, but sought rather to heal by conciliation than to perpetuate dissension. Ormond, having written[b] a vindication of his conduct, and received[c] an answer consoling, if not perfectly satisfactory to his feelings, sailed from Galway; but Clanricard obstinately refused to enter on the exercise of his office, till reparation had been made to the royal authority for the insult offered to it by the James-town declaration. He required an acknowledgment, that it was not in the power of any body of men to discharge the people from their obedience to the lord deputy, as long as the royal authority was vested in him; and at length obtained[d] a declaration to that effect, but with a protestation, that by it “the confederates did not waive their right to the faithful observance of the articles of pacification, nor bind themselves to obey every chief governor who might be unduly nominated by the king, during his unfree condition among the Scots."[2]

Aware of the benefit which the royalists in Scotland

[Footnote 1: See Clanricard’s State of the Nation, in his Memoirs, part ii. p. 24.]

[Footnote 2: Carte, ii. 137-140. Walsh, App. 75-137. Belling in Poncium, 26.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Nov. 25.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Dec. 2.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. Dec. 7.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. Dec. 24.]

derived from the duration of hostilities in Ireland, the parliamentary leaders sought to put an end to the protracted and sanguinary struggle. Scarcely had Clanricard assumed[a] the government, when Grace and Bryan, two Catholic officers, presented themselves to the assembly with a message from Axtel, the governor of Kilkenny, the bearers of a proposal for a treaty of submission. By many the overture was hailed with transport. They maintained that nothing but a general negotiation could put an end to those private treaties which daily thinned their numbers, and exposed the more resolute to inevitable ruin; that the conditions held out were better than they had reason to expect now, infinitely better than they could expect hereafter. Let them put the sincerity of their enemies to the test. If the treaty should succeed, the nation would be saved; if it did not, the failure would unite all true Irishmen in the common cause, who, if they must fall, would not fall unrevenged. There was much force in this reasoning; and it was strengthened by the testimony of officers from several quarters, who represented that, to negotiate with the parliament was the only expedient for the preservation of the people. But Clanricard treated the proposal with contempt. To entertain it was an insult to him, an act of treason against the king; and he was seconded by the eloquence and authority of Castlehaven, who affected to despise the power of the enemy, and attributed his success to their own divisions. Had the assembly known the motives which really actuated these noblemen; that they had been secretly instructed by Charles to continue the contest at every risk, as the best means of enabling him to make head against Cromwell; that this, probably the last opportunity of saving the lives

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Jan. 10.]

and properties of the confederates, was to be sacrificed to the mere chance of gaining a victory for the Scots, their bitter and implacable enemies,[1] many of the calamities which Ireland was yet doomed to suffer would, perhaps, have been averted. But the majority allowed themselves to be persuaded; the motion to negotiate with the parliament was rejected, and the penalties of treason were denounced by the assembly, the sentence of excommunication by the bishops, against all who should conclude any private treaty with the enemy. Limerick and Galway, the two bulwarks of the confederacy, disapproved of this vote, and obstinately refused to admit garrisons within their walls, that they might not be overawed by the military, but remain arbiters of their own fate.

The lord deputy was no sooner relieved from this difficulty, than he found himself entangled in a negotiation of unusual delicacy and perplexity. About the close of the last summer, Ormond had despatched the Lord Taafe to Brussels, with instructions, both in his own name and the name of the supreme council,[2] to solicit the aid of the duke of Lorrain, a prince of the most restless and intriguing disposition, who was accustomed to sell at a high price the services of his army to the neighbouring powers. The duke received him graciously, made him a present of five thousand pounds, and promised an additional aid of men and money, but on condition that he should be declared protector royal of Ireland, with all the rights belonging to that office–rights as undefined as the office itself was hitherto unknown. Taafe hesitated, but was

[Footnote 1: Castlehaven’s Memoirs, 116, 119, 120.]

[Footnote 2: Compare the papers in the second part of Clanricard’s Memoirs, 17, 18, 27 (folio, London, 1757), with Carte’s Ormond, ii. 143.]

encouraged to proceed by the queen mother, the duke of York, and De Vic, the king’s resident at Brussels. They argued[a] that, without aid to the Irish, the king must succumb in Scotland; that the duke of Lorrain was the only prince in Europe that could afford them succour; and that whatever might be his secret projects, they could never be so prejudicial to the royal interests as the subjugation of Ireland by the parliament.[1] Taafe, however, took a middle way, and persuaded[b] the duke to send De Henin as his envoy to the supreme council, with powers to conclude the treaty in Ireland.

The assembly had just been dismissed[c] when this envoy arrived. By the people, the clergy, and the nobility, he was received as an angel sent from heaven. The supply of arms and ammunition which he brought, joined to his promise of more efficient succour in a short time, roused them from their despondency, and encouraged them to indulge the hope of making a stand against the pressure of the enemy. Clanricard, left without instructions, knew not how to act. He dared not refuse the aid so highly prized by the

[Footnote 1: Clanricard, 4, 5, 17, 27. Ormond was also of the same opinion. He writes to Taafe that “nothing was done that were to be wished ’undone’"; that the supreme council were the best judges of their own condition; that they had received permission from the king, for their own preservation, "even to receive conditions from the enemy, which must be much more contrary to his interests, than to receive helps from any other to resist them, almost upon any terms."–Clanric. 33, 34. There is in the collection of letters by Carte, one from Ormond to Clanricard written after the battle of Worcester, in which that nobleman says that it will be without scruple his advice, that “fitting ministers be sent to the pope, and apt inducements proposed to him for his interposition, not only with all princes and states”. The rest of the letter is lost, or Carte did not choose to publish it; but it is plain from the first part that he thought the only chance for the restoration of the royal authority was in the aid to be obtained from the pope and the Catholic powers.–Carte’s Letters, i. 461.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. November.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Dec. 31.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Feb. 25.]

people; he dared not accede to demands so prejudicial to the king’s authority. But if the title of protector royal sounded ungratefully in his ears, it was heard with very different feelings by the confederates, who had reason to conclude that, if the contest between Cromwell and the Scots should terminate in favour of the latter, the Irish Catholics would still have need of a protector to preserve their religion from the exterminating fanaticism of the kirk. Clanricard, was, however, inexorable, and his resolution finally triumphed over the eagerness of his countrymen and the obstinacy of the envoy. From the latter he obtained[a] an additional sum of fifteen thousand pounds, on the easy condition of naming agents to conduct the negotiation at Brussels, according to such instructions as they should receive from the queen dowager, the duke of York, and the duke of Ormond. The lord deputy rejoiced that he had shifted the burthen from his shoulders. De Henin was satisfied, because he knew the secret sentiments of those to whose judgment the point in question had been referred.[1]

Taafe, having received his instructions in Paris (but verbal, not written instructions, as Clanricard had required), joined[b] his colleagues, Sir Nicholas Plunket, and Geoffrey Brown, in Brussels, and, after a long but ineffectual struggle, subscribed to the demands of the duke of Lorrain.[2] That prince, by the treaty, engaged[c] to furnish for the protection of Ireland, all such supplies of arms, money, ammunition, shipping, and provisions, as the necessity of the case might require; and in return the agents, in the name of the

[Footnote 1: Clanricard, 1-16.]

[Footnote 2: Id. 31, 58. It is certain from Clanricard’s papers that the treaty was not concluded till after the return of Taafe from Paris (p. 58).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. March 27.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. July 11.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. July 27.]

people and kingdom of Ireland, conferred on him, his heirs and successors, the title of protector royal, together with the chief civil authority and the command of the forces, but under the obligation of restoring both, on the payment of his expenses, to Charles Stuart, the rightful sovereign.[1] There cannot be a doubt that each party sought to overreach the other.

Clanricard was surprised that he heard nothing from his agents, nothing from the queen or the duke of Ormond. After a silence of several months, a copy of the treaty[a] arrived. He read it with indignation; he asserted[b] that the envoys had transgressed their instructions; he threatened to declare them traitors by proclamation. But Charles had now arrived in Paris after the defeat at Worcester, and was made acquainted[c] with the whole intrigue. He praised the loyalty of the deputy, but sought to mitigate his displeasure against the three agents, exhorted him to receive them again into his confidence, and advised him to employ their services, as if the treaty had never existed. To the duke of Lorrain he despatched[d] the earl of Norwich, to object to the articles which bore most on the royal authority, and to re-commence the negotiation.[2] But the unsuccessful termination of the Scottish war taught that prince to look upon the project as hopeless; while he hesitated, the court of Brussels obtained proofs that he was intriguing with the French minister; and, to the surprise of Europe, he was suddenly arrested in Brussels, and conducted a prisoner to Toledo in Spain.[3]

Clanricard, hostile as he was to the pretensions of the duke of Lorrain, had availed himself of the money

[Footnote 1: Clanricard, 34.]

[Footnote 2: Id. 36-41, 47, 50-54, 58. Also Ponce, 111-124.]

[Footnote 3: Thurloe, ii. 90, 115, 127, 136, 611.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 12.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Oct. 20.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. Feb. 10.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1652. March 23.]

received from that prince to organize a new force, and oppose every obstacle in his power to the progress of the enemy. Ireton, who anticipated nothing less than the entire reduction of the island, opened[a] the campaign with the siege of Limerick. The conditions which he offered were refused by the inhabitants, and, at their request, Hugh O’Neil, with three thousand men, undertook the defence of the city, but with an understanding that the keys of the gates and the government of the place should remain in the possession of the mayor. Both parties displayed a valour and obstinacy worthy of the prize for which they fought. Though Lord Broghill defeated Lord Muskerry, the Catholic commander in Munster; though Coote, in defiance of Clanricard, penetrated from the northern extremity of Connaught, as far as Athenree and Portumna; though Ireton, after several fruitless attempts, deceived the vigilance of Castlehaven, and established himself on the right bank of the Shannon; and though a party within the walls laboured to represent their parliamentary enemies as the advocates of universal toleration; nothing could shake the constancy of the citizens and the garrison. They harassed the besiegers by repeated sorties; they repelled every assault; and on one occasion[b] they destroyed the whole corps, which had been landed on “the island.” Even after the fatal battle of Worcester, to a second summons they returned a spirited refusal. But in October a reinforcement of three thousand men from England arrived in the camp; a battery was formed of the heavy cannon landed from the shipping in the harbour; and a wide breach in the wall admonished the inhabitants to prepare for an assault. In this moment of suspense, with the dreadful example of Drogheda and

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. June 11.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. July 15.]

Wexford before their eyes, they met at the town-hall. It was in vain that O’Neil remonstrated; that the bishops of Limerick and Emly entreated and threatened, Stretch, the mayor, gave[a] the keys to Colonel Fanning, who seized St. John’s gate, turned the cannon on the city, and admitted two hundred of the besiegers. A treaty was now[b] concluded; and, if the garrison and inhabitants preserved their lives and property, it was by abandoning twenty-two individuals to the mercy of the conqueror. Of these some made their escape; Terence O’Brien, bishop of Emly, Wallis, a Franciscan friar, Major-General Purcell, Sir Godfrey Galway, Baron, a member of the council, Stretch, the mayor of the city, with Fanning himself, and Higgin, were immolated as an atonement for the obstinate resistance of the besiegers.[1] By Ireton O’Neil was also doomed to die, but the officers who formed the court, in admiration of his gallantry, sought to save his life. Twice they condemned him in obedience to the commander-in-chief, who pronounced his spirited defence of Clonmel an unpardonable crime against the state; but the third time the deputy was persuaded to leave them to the exercise of their own judgment; and they pronounced in favour of their brave but unfortunate captive. Ireton himself did not long survive. When he condemned[c] the bishop of Emly to die, that prelate had exclaimed, “I appeal to the tribunal of God, and summon thee to meet me at that bar.” By many these words were deemed prophetic; for in less than a month the

[Footnote 1: See the account of their execution in pp. 100, 101 of the Descriptio Regni Hiberniae per Antonium Prodinum, Romae, 1721, a work made up of extracts from the original work of Bruodin, Propugnaculum Catholicae Veritatis, Pragae, 1669. The extract referred to in this note is taken from 1. iv. c. xv. of the original work.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 23.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Oct. 27.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Nov. 25.]

victorious general fell a victim to the pestilential disease which ravaged the west of Ireland. His death proved a severe loss to the commonwealth, not only on account of his abilities as an officer and a statesman, but because it removed the principal check to the inordinate ambition of Cromwell.[1]

During the next winter the confederates had leisure to reflect on their forlorn condition. Charles, indeed, a second time an exile, solicited[a] them to persevere;[2] but it was difficult to persuade men to hazard their lives and fortunes without the remotest prospect of benefit to themselves or to the royal cause; and in the month of March Colonel Fitzpatric, a celebrated chieftain in the county of Meath, laid down[b] his arms, and obtained in return the possession of his lands. The example alarmed the confederates; and Clanricard, in their name, proposed[c] a general capitulation: it was refused by the stern policy of Ludlow, who assumed the command on the death of Ireton; a succession of surrenders followed; and O’Dwyer, the town of Galway, Thurlogh O’Neil, and the earl of Westmeath, accepted the terms dictated by the enemy; which were safety for their persons and personal property, the restoration of part of their landed estates, according to the qualifications to be determined by parliament, and permission to reside within the commonwealth, or to enter with a certain number of followers into the service of any foreign prince in amity with England. The benefit of these articles did not extend to persons who had taken

[Footnote 1: Ludlow, i. 293, 296, 298, 299, 300, 307, 310, 316-324. Heath, 304, 305. Ireton’s letter, printed by Field, 1651. Carte, ii. 154. The parliament ordered Ireton’s body to be interred at the public expense. It was conveyed from Ireland to Bristol, and thence to London, lay in state in Somerset House, and on February 6th was buried in Henry the Seventh’s chapel.–Heath, 305.]

[Footnote 2: Clanricard, 51.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Jan. 31.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. March 7.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. March 24.]

up arms in the first year of the contest, or had belonged to the first general assembly, or had committed murder, or had taken orders in the church of Rome. There were, however, several who, in obedience to the instructions received from Charles, resolved to continue hostilities to the last extremity. Lord Muskerry collected five thousand men on the borders of Cork and Kerry, but was obliged to retire before his opponents: his strong fortress of Ross opened[a] its gates; and, after some hesitation, he made his submission. In the north, Clanricard reduced Ballyshannon and Donnegal; but there his career ended; and Coote drove[b] him into the Isle of Carrick, where he was compelled to accept the usual conditions. The last chieftain of note who braved[c] the arms of the commonwealth was Colonel Richard Grace: he beat up the enemy’s quarters; but was afterwards driven across the Shannon with the loss of eight hundred of his followers. Colonel Sanchey pursued[d] him to his favourite retreat; his castle of Inchlough surrendered,[e] and Grace capitulated with twelve hundred and fifty men.[1] There still remained a few straggling parties on the mountains and amidst the morasses, under MacHugh, and Byrne, and O’Brian, and Cavanagh: these, however, were subdued in the course of the winter; the Isle of Inisbouffin received[f] a garrison, and a new force, which appeared in Ulster, under the Lord Iniskilling, obtained,[g] what was chiefly sought, the usual articles of transportation. The subjugation of Ireland was completed.[2]

[Footnote 1: On this gallant and honourable officer, who on several subsequent occasions displayed the most devoted attachment to the house of Stuart, see a very interesting article in Mr. Sheffield Grace’s “Memoirs of the Family of Grace,” p. 27.]

[Footnote 2: Ludlow, i. 341, 344, 347, 352, 354, 357, 359, 360. Heath, 310, 312, 324, 333, 344. Journals, April 8, 21, May 18, 25, Aug. 18.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. July 5.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. May 18.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. July.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1652. June 20.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1652. Aug. 1.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1652. January.] [Sidenote g: A.D. 1652. May 18.]

3. Here, to prevent subsequent interruption, I may be allowed to describe the state of this unhappy country, while it remained under the sway of the commonwealth.

On the death of Ireton, Lambert had been appointed lord deputy; but by means of a female intrigue he was set aside in favour of Fleetwood, who had married Ireton’s widow.[1] To Fleetwood was assigned the command of the forces without a colleague; but in the civil administration were joined with him four other commissioners, Ludlow, Corbett, Jones, and Weaver. By their instructions they were commanded[a] and authorized to observe, as far as it was possible, the laws of England in the exercise of the government and the administration of justice; to “endeavour the promulgation of the gospel, and the power of true religion, and holiness;” to remove all disaffected or suspected persons from office; to allow no papist or delinquent to hold any place of trust, to practise as barrister or solicitor, or to keep school for

[Footnote 1: Journals, Jan. 30, June 15, July 9. Lambert’s wife and Ireton’s widow met in the park. The first, as her husband was in possession, claimed the precedency, and the latter complained of the grievance to Cromwell, her father, whose patent of lord lieutenant was on the point of expiring. He refused to have it renewed; and, as there could be no deputy where there was no principal, Lambert’s appointment of deputy was in consequence revoked. But Mrs. Ireton was not content with this triumph over her rival. She married Fleetwood, obtained for him, through her father’s interest, the chief command in place of Lambert, and returned with him to her former station in Ireland. Cromwell, however, paid for the gratification of his daughter’s vanity. That he might not forfeit the friendship of Lambert, whose aid was necessary for his ulterior designs, he presented him with a considerable sum to defray the charges of the preparations which he had made for his intended voyage to Ireland,–Ludlow, i. 355, 360. Hutchinson, 196. Lambert, however, afterwards discovered that Cromwell had secretly instigated Vane and Hazlerig to oppose his going to Ireland, and, in revenge, joined with them to depose Richard Cromwell for the sin of his father.–Thurloe, vii. 660.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. August 24.]

the education of youth; to impose monthly assessments not exceeding forty thousand pounds in amount for the payment of the forces, and to imprison or discharge any person, or remove him from his dwelling into any other place or country, or permit him to return to his dwelling, as they should see cause for the advantage of the commonwealth.[1]

I. One of the first cares of the commissioners was to satisfy the claims of vengeance. In the year 1644 the Catholic nobility had petitioned the king that an inquiry might be made into the murders alleged to have been perpetrated on each side in Ireland, and that justice might be executed on the offenders without distinction of country or religion. To the conquerors it appeared more expedient to confine the inquiry to one party; and a high court of justice was established to try Catholics charged with having shed the blood of any Protestant out of battle since the commencement of the rebellion in 1641. Donnelan, a native, was appointed president, with commissary-general Reynolds, and Cook, who had acted as solicitor at the trial of Charles I., for his assessors. The court sat in great state at Kilkenny, and thence made its circuit through the island by Waterford, Cork, Dublin, and other places. Of the justice of its proceedings we have not the means of forming a satisfactory notion; but the cry for blood was too violent, the passions of men were too much excited, and the forms of proceeding too summary to allow the judges to weigh with cool and cautious discrimination the different cases which came before them. Lords Muskerry and Clanmaliere, with Maccarthy Reagh, whether they owed it to their innocence or to the influence of

[Footnote 1: Journals, Aug. 34.]

friends, had the good fortune to be acquitted; the mother of Colonel Fitzpatric was burnt; Lord Mayo, colonels Tool, Bagnal, and about two hundred more, suffered death by the axe or by the halter. It was, however, remarkable, that the greatest deficiency of proof occurred in the province where the principal massacres were said to have been committed. Of the men of Ulster, Sir Phelim O’Neil is the only one whose conviction, and execution, have been recorded.[1]

II. Cromwell had not been long in the island before he discovered that it was impossible to accomplish the original design of extirpating the Catholic population; and he therefore adopted the expedient of allowing their leaders to expatriate themselves with a portion of their countrymen, by entering into the service of foreign powers. This plan was followed by his successors in the war, and was perfected by an act of parliament, banishing all the Catholic officers. Each chieftain, when he surrendered, stipulated for a certain number of men: every facility was furnished him to complete his levy; and the exiles hastened to risk their lives in the service of the Catholic powers who hired them; many in that of Spain, others of France, others of Austria, and some of the republic of Venice. Thus the obnoxious population was reduced by the number of thirty, perhaps forty thousand able-bodied men; but it soon became a question how to dispose of their wives and families, of the wives and families of those who had perished by the ravages of disease and the casualties of war, and of the multitudes who, chased from their homes and employments, were reduced to a state of titter destitution. These at different times, to the amount of several

[Footnote 1: Ludlow, ii. 2, 5, 8-11. Heath, 332, 333.]

thousands, were collected in bodies, driven on shipboard, and conveyed to the West Indies.[1] Yet with all these drains on the one party, and the continual accession of English and Scottish colonists on the other, the Catholic was found to exceed the Protestant population in the proportion of eight to one.[2] Cromwell, when he had reached the zenith of his power, had recourse to a new expedient. He repeatedly solicited the fugitives, who, in the reign of the late king, had settled in New England, to abandon their plantations and accept of lands in Ireland. On their refusal, he made the same offer to the Vaudois, the Protestants of Piedmont, but was equally unsuccessful. They preferred their native valleys, though

[Footnote 1: According to Petty (p. 187), six thousand boys and women were sent away. Lynch (Cambrensis Eversus, in fine) says that they were sold for slaves. Bruodin, in his Propugnaculum (Pragae, anno 1660) numbers the exiles at one hundred thousand. Ultra centum millia omnis sexus et aetatis, e quibus aliquot millia in diversas Americae tabaccarias insulas relegata sunt (p. 692). In a letter in my possession, written in 1656, it is said: Catholicos pauperea plenis navibus mittunt in Barbados et insulas Americae. Credo jam sexaginta millia abivisse. Expulsis enim ab initio in Hispaniam et Belgium maritis, jam uxores et proles in Americam destinantur.–After the conquest of Jamaica in 1655, the protector, that he might people it, resolved to transport a thousand Irish boys and a thousand Irish girls to the island. At first, the young women only were demanded to which it is replied: “Although we must use force in taking them up, yet, it being so much for their own good, and likely to be of so great advantage to the public, it is not in the least doubted that you may have such number of them as you shall think fit."–Thurloe, iv. 23. In the next letter II. Cromwell says: “I think it might be of like advantage to your affairs there, and ours here, if you should think fit to send one thousand five hundred or two thousand young boys of twelve or fourteen years of age to the place aforementioned. We could well spare them, and they would be of use to you; and who knows but it may be a means to make them Englishmen, I mean rather Christians?” (p. 40). Thurloe answers: “The committee of the council have voted one thousand girls, and as many youths, to be taken up for that purpose” (p. 75).]

[Footnote 2: Petty, Polit. Arithmetic, 29.]

under the government of a Catholic sovereign, whose enmity they had provoked, to the green fields of Erin, and all the benefits which they might derive from the fostering care and religions creed of the protector.[1]

III. By an act,[a] entitled an act for the settlement of Ireland, the parliament divided the royalists and Catholics into different classes, and allotted to each class an appropriate degree of punishment. Forfeiture of life and estate was pronounced against all the great proprietors of lands, banishment against those who had accepted commissions; the forfeiture of two-thirds of their estates against all who had borne arms under the confederates of the king’s lieutenant, and the forfeiture of one-third against all persons whomsoever who had not been in the actual service of parliament, or had not displayed their constant good affection to the commonwealth of England. This was the doom of persons of property: to all others, whose estates, real and personal, did not amount to the value of ten pounds, a full and free pardon was graciously offered.[2]

Care, however, was taken that the third parts, which by this act were to be restored to the original proprietors, were not to be allotted to them out of their former estates, but “in such places as the parliament, for the more effectual settlement of the peace of the nation, should think fit to appoint.” When the first plan of extermination had failed, another project was adopted of confining the Catholic landholders to Connaught and Clare, beyond the river Shannon, and of dividing the remainder of the island, Leinster, Munster, and Ulster, among Protestant colonists. This, it

[Footnote 1: Hutchinson, Hist. of Massachusetts, 190. Thurloe, iii. 459.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Aug. 12, 1652. Scobell, ii. 197, Ludlow, i. 370. In the Appendix I have copied this act correctly from the original in the possession of Thomas Lloyd, Esq. See note (F).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Aug. 12.]

was said, would prevent the quarrels which must otherwise arise between the new planters and the ancient owners; it would render rebellion more difficult and less formidable; and it would break the hereditary influence of the chiefs over their septs, and of the landlords over their tenants. Accordingly the little parliament, called by Cromwell and his officers, passed a second act,[a] which assigned to all persons, claiming under the qualifications described in the former, a proportionate quantity of land on the right bank of the Shannon; set aside the counties of Limerick, Tipperary, and Waterford in Munster, of King’s County, Queen’s County, West Meath, and East Meath in Leinster, and of Down, Antrim, and Armagh in Ulster, to satisfy in equal shares the English adventurers who had subscribed money in the beginning of the contest, and the arrears of the army that had served in Ireland since Cromwell took the command; reserved for the future disposal of the government the forfeitures in the counties of Dublin, Cork, Kildare, and Carlow; and charged those in the remaining counties with the deficiency, if their should be any in the first ten, with the liquidation of several public debts, and with the arrears of the Irish army contracted previously to the battle of Rathmines.

To carry this act into execution, the commissioners, by successive proclamations, ordered all persons who claimed under qualifications, and in addition, all who had borne arms against the parliament, to “remove and transplant” themselves into Connaught and Clare before the first of May, 1654.[1] How many

[Footnote 1: See on this question “The Great Subject of Transplantation in Ireland discussed,” 1654. Laurence, “The Interest of England in the Irish Transplantation stated,” 1654; and the answer to Laurence by Vincent Gookin, the author of the first tract.]

[Sidenote: A.D. 1653. Sept. 26.]

were prevailed upon to obey, is unknown; but that they amounted to a considerable number is plain from the fact that the lands allotted to them in lieu of their third portions extended to more than eight hundred thousand English acres. Many, however, refused. Retiring into bogs and fastnesses, they formed bodies of armed men, and supported themselves and their followers by the depredations which they committed on the occupiers of their estates. They were called Raperees and Tories;[1] and so formidable did they become to the new settlers, that in certain districts, the sum of two hundred pounds was offered for the head of the leader of the band, and that of forty pounds for the head of any one of the privates.[2]

To maintain this system of spoliation, and to coerce the vindictive passions of the natives, it became necessary to establish martial law, and to enforce regulations the most arbitrary and oppressive. No Catholic was permitted to reside within any garrison or market town, or to remove more than one mile from his own dwelling without a passport describing his person, age, and occupation; every meeting of four persons besides the family was pronounced an illegal and treasonable assembly; to carry arms, or to have arms at home, was made a capital offence; and any transplanted Irishman, who was found on the left bank of the Shannon, might be put to death by the first person who met him, without the order of a magistrate. Seldom has any nation been reduced to a state of bondage more galling and oppressive. Under

[Footnote 1: This celebrated party name, “Tory,” is derived from "toruighim,” to pursue for the sake of plunder.–O’Connor, Bib. Stowensis, ii. 460.]

[Footnote 2: Burton’s Diary, ii. 210.]

the pretence of the violation of these laws, their feelings were outraged, and their blood was shed with impunity. They held their property, their liberty, and their lives, at the will of the petty despots around them, foreign planters, and the commanders of military posts, who were stimulated by revenge and interest to depress and exterminate the native population.[1]

IV. The religion of the Irish proved an additional source of solicitude to their fanatical conquerors. By one of the articles concluded with Lord Westmeath, it was stipulated that all the inhabitants of Ireland should enjoy the benefit of an act lately passed in England “to relieve peaceable persons from the rigours of former acts in matters of religion;” and that no Irish recusant should be compelled to assist at any form of service contrary to his conscience. When the treaty was presented for ratification, this concession shocked and scandalized the piety of the saints. The first part was instantly negatived; and, if the second was carried by a small majority through the efforts of Marten and Vane, it was with a proviso that "the article should not give any the least allowance, or countenance, or toleration, to the exercise of the Catholic worship in any manner whatsoever."[2]

In the spirit of these votes, the civil commissioners ordered by proclamation[a] all Catholic clergymen to quit Ireland within twenty days, under the penalties of high treason, and forbade all other persons to harbour any such clergymen under the pain of death. Additional provisions tending to the same object followed in succession. Whoever knew of the concealment

[Footnote 1: Bruodin, 693. Hibernia Dominicana, 706.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, 1652, June 1.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Jan. 6.]

of a priest, and did not reveal it to the proper authorities, was made liable to the punishment of a public whipping and the amputation of his ears; to be absent on a Sunday from the service at the parish church, subjected the offender to a fine of thirty pence; and the magistrates were authorized to take away the children of Catholics and send them to England for education, and to tender the oath of abjuration to all persons of the age of one and twenty years, the refusal of which subjected them to imprisonment during pleasure, and to the forfeiture of two-thirds of their estates real and personal.[1]

During this period the Catholic clergy were exposed to a persecution far more severe than had ever been previously experienced in the island. In former times the chief governors dared not execute with severity the laws against the Catholic priesthood, and the fugitives easily found security on the estates of the great landed proprietors. But now the Irish people lay prostrate at the feet of their conquerors; the military were distributed in small bodies over the country; their vigilance was sharpened by religious antipathy and the hope of reward; and the means of detection were facilitated by the prohibition of travelling without a license from the magistrates. Of the many priests who still remained in the country, several were discovered, and forfeited their lives on the gallows; those who escaped detection concealed themselves in the caverns of the mountains, or in lonely hovels raised in the midst of the morasses, whence they issued during the night to carry the consolations

[Footnote 1: Hibernia Dominicana, 707. Bruodin, 696. Porter, Compendium Annalium Eecclesiasticorum (Romae, 1690), p. 292.]

of religion to the huts of their oppressed and suffering countrymen.[1]

3. In Scotland the power of the commonwealth was as firmly established as in Ireland. When Cromwell hastened in pursuit of the king to Worcester, he left Monk with eight thousand men to complete the conquest of the kingdom. Monk invested Stirling; and the Highlanders who composed the garrison, alarmed by the explosion of the shells from the batteries, compelled[a] the governor to capitulate. The maiden castle, which had never been violated by the presence of a conqueror,[2] submitted to the English “sectaries;” and, what was still more humbling to the pride of the nation, the royal robes, part of the regalia, and the national records, were irreverently torn from their repositories, and sent to London as the trophies of victory. Thence the English general marched forward to Dundee, where he received a proud defiance from Lumsden, the governor. During the preparations for the assault, he learned that the Scottish lords, whom Charles had intrusted with the government in his absence, were holding a meeting on the moor at Ellet, in Angus. By his order, six hundred horse, under the colonels Alured and Morgan, aided, as it was believed, by treachery, surprised them at an early hour in the morning.[b] Three hundred prisoners were made, including the two committees of

[Footnote 1: MS. letters in my possession. Bruodin, 696. A proclamation was also issued ordering all nuns to marry or leave Ireland. They were successively transported to Belgium, France, and Spain, where they were hospitably received in the convents of their respective orders.]

[Footnote 2: “Haec nobis invicta tulerunt centum sex proavi, 1617,” was the boasting inscription which King James had engraved on the wall.–Clarke’s official account to the Speaker, in Cary, ii. 327. Echard, 697.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Aug. 14.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Aug. 28.]

the estates and the kirk, several peers, and all the gentry of the neighbourhood; and these, with such other individuals as the general deemed hostile and dangerous to the commonwealth, followed the regalia and records of their country to the English capital. At Dundee a breach was soon made in the wall: the defenders shrunk from the charge of the assailants; and the governor and garrison were massacred.[a] I must leave it to the imagination of the reader to supply the sufferings of the inhabitants from the violence, the lust, and the rapacity of their victorious enemy. In Dundee, on account of its superior strength, many had deposited their most valuable effects; and all these, with sixty ships and their cargoes in the harbour, became the reward of the conquerors.[1]

Warned by this awful example, St. Andrews, Aberdeen, and Montrose opened their gates; the earl of Huntley and Lord Balcarras submitted; the few remaining fortresses capitulated in succession; and if Argyle, in the midst of his clan, maintained a precarious and temporary independence, it was not that he cherished the expectation of evading the yoke, but that he sought to draw from the parliament the acknowledgment of a debt which he claimed of the English

[Footnote 1: Heath, 301, 302. Whitelock, 508. Journals, Aug. 27. Milton’s S. Pap. 79. Balfour, iv. 314, 315. “Mounche commaundit all, of quhatsummeuer sex, to be putt to the edge of the sword. Ther wer 800 inhabitants and souldiers killed, and about 200 women and children. The plounder and buttie they gatte in the toune, exceided 2 millions and a halffe” (about £200,000). That, however, the whole garrison was not put to the sword appears from the mention in the Journals (Sept. 12) of a list of officers made prisoners, and from Monk’s letter to Cromwell. “There was killed of the enemy about 500, and 200 or thereabouts taken prisoners. The stubbornness of the people enforced the soldiers to plunder the town."–Cary’s Memorials, ii. 351.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651 Sept. 1.]

government.[1] To destroy the prospect, by showing the hopelessness of resistance, the army was successively augmented to the amount of twenty thousand men;[2] citadels were marked out to be built of stone at Ayr, Leith, Perth, and Inverness; and a long chain of military stations drawn across the Highlands served to curb, if it did not tame, the fierce and indignant spirit of the natives. The parliament declared the lands and goods of the crown public property, and confiscated the estates of all who had joined the king or the duke of Hamilton in their invasions of England, unless they were engaged in trade, and worth no more than five pounds, or not engaged in trade, and worth only one hundred pounds. All authority derived from any other source than the parliament of England was abolished[a] by proclamation; the different sheriffs, and civil officers of doubtful fidelity, were removed for others attached to the commonwealth; a yearly tax of one hundred and thirty thousand pounds was imposed in lieu of free quarters for the support of the army; and English judges, assisted by three or four natives, were appointed to go the circuits, and to supersede the courts of session.[3] It was with grief

[Footnote 1: Balfour, iv. 315. Heath, 304, 308, 310, 313. Whitelock, 514, 534, 543.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Dec. 2, 1652.]

[Footnote 3: Ludlow, 345. Heath, 313, 326. Whitelock, 528, 542. Journals, Nov. 19. Leicester’s Journal, 129. The English judges were astonished at the spirit of litigation and revenge which the Scots displayed during the circuit. More than one thousand individuals were accused before them of adultery, incest, and other offences, which they had been obliged to confess in the kirk during the last twenty or thirty years. When no other proof was brought, the charge was dismissed. In like manner sixty persons were charged with witchcraft. These were also acquitted; for, though they had confessed the offence, the confession had been drawn from them by torture. It was usual to tie up the supposed witch by the thumbs, and to whip her till she confessed; or to put the flame of a candle to the soles of the feet, between the toes, or to parts of the head, or to make the accused wear a shirt of hair steeped in vinegar &c.–See Whitelock, 543, 544, 545, 547, 548.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Jan. 22.]

and shame that the Scots yielded to these innovations; though they were attended with one redeeming benefit, the prevention of that anarchy and bloodshed which must have followed, had the Cavaliers and Covenanters, with forces nearly balanced, and passions equally excited, been left to wreck their vengeance on each other. But they were soon threatened with what in their eyes was a still greater evil. The parliament resolved to incorporate the two countries into one commonwealth, without kingly government or the aristocratical influence of a house of peers. This was thought to fill up the measure of Scottish misery. There is a pride in the independence of his country, of which even the peasant is conscious; but in this case not only national but religious feelings were outraged. With the civil consequences of an union which would degrade Scotland to the state of a province, the ministers in their ecclesiastical capacity had no concern; but they forbade[a] the people to give consent or support to the measure, because it was contrary to the covenant, and tended “to draw with it a subordination of the kirk to the state in the things of Christ."[1] The parliamentary commissioners (they were eight, with St. John and Vane at their head), secure of the power of the sword, derided the menaces of the kirk. They convened at Dalkeith the representatives of the counties and burghs, who were ordered to bring with them full powers to treat and conclude respecting the incorporation of the two countries. Twenty-eight

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 521. Heath, 307.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Jan. 21]

out of thirty shires, and forty-four out of fifty-eight burghs, gave their consent; and the result was a second meeting at Edinburgh, in which twenty-one deputies were chosen to arrange the conditions with the parliamentary commissioners at Westminster. There conferences were held,[a] and many articles discussed; but, before the plan could be amicably adjusted, the parliament itself, with all its projects, was overturned[b] by the successful ambition of Cromwell.[1]

4. From the conquest of Ireland and Scotland we may now turn to the transactions between the commonwealth and foreign powers. The king of Portugal was the first who provoked its anger, and felt its vengeance. At an early period in 1649, Prince Rupert, with the fleet which had revolted from the parliament to the late king, sailed[c] from the Texel, swept the Irish Channel, and inflicted severe injuries on the English commerce. Vane, to whose industry had been committed the care of the naval department, made every exertion to equip a formidable armament, the command of which was given to three military officers, Blake, Dean, and Popham. Rupert retired[d] before this superior force to the harbour of Kinsale; the batteries kept his enemies at bay; and the Irish supplied him with men and provisions. At length the victories of Cromwell by land admonished him to quit his asylum; and, with the loss of three ships, he burst[e] through the blockading squadron, sailed to the coast of Spain, and during the winter months sought shelter in the waters of the Tagus. In spring, Blake appeared[f] with eighteen men-of-war at the mouth of the river; to his request that he

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1652, March 16, 24, 26, April 2, May 14, Sept. 15, 29, Oct. 29, Nov. 23.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Oct. 12.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1649. March.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1649. May.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1649. October.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1650. March.]

might be allowed to attack the pirate at his anchorage, he received from the king of Portugal a peremptory refusal; and, in his attempt to force his way up the river he was driven back by the fire from the batteries. In obedience to his instructions, he revenged himself on the Portuguese trade, and Don John, by way of reprisal, arrested the English merchants, and took possession of their effects. Alarmed, however, by the losses of his subjects, he compelled[a] Rupert to quit the Tagus,[1] and despatched[b] an envoy, named Guimaraes, to solicit an accommodation. Every paper which passed between this minister and the commissioners was submitted to the parliament, and by it approved, or modified, or rejected. Guimaraes subscribed[c] to the preliminaries demanded by the council, that the English merchants arrested in Portugal should be set at liberty, that they should receive an indemnification for their losses, and that the king of Portugal should pay a sum of money towards the charges of the English fleet; but he protracted the negotiation, by disputing dates and details, and was haughtily commanded[d] to quit the territory of the commonwealth. Humbling as it was to Don John, he had no resource; the Conde de Camera was sent,[e] with the title of ambassador extraordinary; he assented to every

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 134, 142, 155. Heath, 254, 256, 275. Whitelock, 406, 429, 449, 463, 475. Clarendon, iii. 338. Rupert sailed into the Mediterranean, and maintained himself by piracy, capturing not only English but Spanish and Genoese ships. All who did not favour him were considered as enemies. Driven from the Mediterranean by the English, he sailed to the West Indies, where he inflicted greater losses on the Spanish than the English trade. Here his brother, Prince Maurice, perished in a storm; and Rupert, unable to oppose his enemies with any hope of success, returned to Europe, and anchored in the harbour of Nantes, in March, 1652. He sold his two men-of-war to Cardinal Mazarin.–Heath, 337. Whitelock, 552. Clarendon, iii. 513, 520.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. October.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Dec. 17.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. April 22.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. May 16.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1652. July 7.]

demand; but the progress of the treaty was interrupted by the usurpation of Cromwell, and another year elapsed before it was[a] concluded. By it valuable privileges were granted to the English traders; four commissioners,–two English and two Portuguese, were appointed[b] to settle all claims against the Portuguese government; and it was agreed[c] that an English commissary should receive one-half of all the duties paid by the English merchants in the ports of Portugal, to provide a sufficient fund for the liquidation of the debt.[1]

5. To Charles I. (nor will it surprise us, if we recollect his treatment of the Infanta) the court of Spain had always behaved with coldness and reserve. The ambassador Cardenas continued to reside in London, even after the king’s execution, and was the first foreign minister whom the parliament honoured with a public audience. He made it his chief object to cement the friendship between the commonwealth and his own country, fomented the hostility of the former against Portugal and the United Provinces, the ancient enemies of Spain, and procured the assent of his sovereign that an accredited minister from the parliament should be admitted by the court of Madrid. The individual selected[d] for this office was Ascham, a man who, by his writings, had rendered himself peculiarly obnoxious to the royalists. He landed[e] near Cadiz, proceeded under an escort for his protection to Madrid, and repaired[f] to an inn, till a suitable residence could be procured. The next day,[g] while he was sitting at dinner with Riba, a renegado friar, his interpreter,

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1650, Dec. 17; 1651, April 4, 11, 22, May 7, 13, 16; 1652, Sept. 30, Dec. 15; 1653, Jan. 5. Whitelock, 486. Dumont, vi. p. ii. 82.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Jan. 5.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. July 10.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. July 14.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1650. Jan. 31.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. April 3.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1650. May 26.] [Sidenote g: A.D. 1650. May 27.]

six Englishmen entered the house; four remained below to watch; two burst into the room, exclaiming, “Welcome, gallants, welcome;” and in a moment both the ambassador and the interpreter lay on the floor weltering in their blood. Of the assassins, one, a servant to Cottington and Hyde, the envoys from Charles, fled to the house of the Venetian ambassador, and escaped; the other five took refuge in a neighbouring chapel, whence, by the king’s order, they were conducted to the common goal. When the criminal process was ended, they all received judgment of death. The crime, it was acknowledged, could not be justified; yet the public feeling was in favour of the criminals: the people, the clergy, the foreign ambassadors, all sought to save them from punishment; and, though the right of sanctuary did not afford protection to murderers, the king was, but with difficulty, persuaded to send them back to their former asylum. Here, while they remained within its precincts, they were safe; but the moment they left the sanctuary, their lives became forfeited to the law. The people supplied them with provisions, and offered the means of escape. They left Madrid; the police pursued; Sparkes, a native of Hampshire, was taken about three miles from the city; and the parliament, unable to obtain more, appeared to be content with the blood of this single victim.[1]

6. These negotiations ended peaceably; those between the commonwealth and the United Provinces, though commenced with friendly feelings, led to hostilities. It might have been expected that the Dutch, mindful of the glorious struggle for liberty maintained

[Footnote 1: Compare Clarendon, iii. 369, with the Papers in Thurloe, i. 148-153, 202, and Harleian Miscellany, iv. 280.]

by their fathers, and crowned with success by the treaty of Munster, would have viewed with exultation the triumph of the English republicans. But William the Second, prince of Orange, had married[a] a daughter of Charles I.; his views and interests were espoused by the military and the people; and his adherents possessed the ascendancy in the States General and in all the provincial states, excepting those of West Friesland and Holland. As long as he lived, no atonement could be obtained for the murder of Dorislaus, no audience for Strickland, the resident ambassador, though that favour was repeatedly granted to Boswell, the envoy of Charles.[1] However, in November the prince died[b] of the small-pox in his twenty-fourth year; and a few days later[c] his widow was delivered of a son, William III., the same who subsequently ascended the throne of England. The infancy of his successor emboldened the democratical party; they abolished the office of stadtholder, and recovered the ascendancy in the government. On the news of this revolution, the council advised that St. John, the chief justice of the Common Pleas, and Strickland, the former envoy, should be appointed ambassadors extraordinary to the States General. St. John, with the fate of Ascham before his eyes, sought to escape this dangerous mission; he alleged[d] the infirmity of his health and the insalubrity of the climate; but the parliament derided his timidity, and his petition was dismissed on a division by a considerable majority.[2]

Among the numerous projects which the English leaders cherished under the intoxication of success, was that of forming, by the incorporation of the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 112, 113, 114, 124.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, 1651, Jan. 21, 23, 28.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1646. Dec. 8.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Nov. 6.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1650. Nov. 14.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. Jan. 28.]

United Provinces with the commonwealth, a great and powerful republic, capable of striking terror into all the crowned heads of Europe. But so many difficulties were foreseen, so many objections raised, that the ambassadors received instructions to confine themselves to the more sober proposal of “a strict and intimate alliance and union, which might give to each a mutual and intrinsical interest” in the prosperity of the other. They made their public entry into the Hague[a] with a parade and retinue becoming the representatives of a powerful nation; but external splendour did not check the popular feeling, which expressed itself by groans and hisses, nor intimidate the royalists, who sought every occasion of insulting “the things called ambassadors."[1] The States had not forgotten the offensive delay of the parliament to answer their embassy of intercession for the life of Charles I.; nor did they brook the superiority which it now assumed, by prescribing a certain term within which the negotiation should be concluded. Pride was met with equal pride; the ambassadors were compelled to solicit a prolongation of their powers,[b] and the treaty began to proceed with greater rapidity. The English proposed[c] a confederacy for the preservation of the liberties of each nation against all the enemies

[Footnote 1: Thus they are perpetually called in the correspondence of the royalists.–Carte’s Letters, i. 447, 469; ii. 11. Strickland’s servants were attacked at his door by six cavaliers with drawn swords; an attempt was made to break into St. John’s bedchamber; Edward, son to the queen of Bohemia, publicly called the ambassadors rogues and dogs; and the young duke of York accidentally meeting St. John, who refused to give way to him, snatched the ambassador’s hat off his head and threw it in his face, saying, “Learn, parricide, to respect the brother of your king.” “I scorn," he replied, “to acknowledge either, you race of vagabonds.” The duke drew his sword, but mischief was prevented by the interference of the spectators,–New Parl. Hist. iii. 1, 364.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. March 10.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. April 17.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. May 10.]

of either by sea and land, and a renewal of the whole treaty of 1495, with such modifications as might adapt it to existing times and circumstances. The States, having demanded in vain an explanation of the proposed confederacy,[a] presented a counter project;[b] but while the different articles remained under discussion, the period prefixed by the parliament expired, and the ambassadors departed. To whom the failure of the negotiation was owing became a subject of controversy. The Hollanders blamed the abrupt and supercilious carriage of St. John and his colleague; the ambassadors charged the States with having purposely created delay, that they might not commit themselves by a treaty with the commonwealth, before they had seen the issue of the contest between the king of Scotland and Oliver Cromwell.[1]

In a short time that contest was decided in the battle of Worcester, and the States condescended to become petitioners in their turn. Their ambassadors arrived in England with the intention of resuming the negotiation where it had been interrupted by the departure of St. John and his colleague. But circumstances were now changed; success had enlarged the pretensions of the parliament; and the British, instead of shunning, courted a trial of strength with the Belgic lion. First, the Dutch merchantmen were visited under the pretext of searching for munitions of war, which they were carrying to the enemy; and then, at the representation of certain merchants, who conceived themselves to have been injured by the Dutch navy, letters of marque were granted to several individuals, and more than eighty prizes brought into

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 179, 183, 188-195. Heath, 285-287. Carte’s Letters, i. 464. Leicester’s Journal, 107. Parl. History, xx. 496.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. June 14.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. June 20.]

the English ports.[1] In addition, the navigation act had been passed and carried into execution,[a] by which it was enacted that no goods, the produce of Africa, Asia, and America, should be imported into this country in ships which were not the property of England or its colonies; and that no produce or manufacture of any part of Europe should be imported, unless in ships the property of England or of the country of which such merchandise was the proper growth or manufacture.[2] Hitherto the Dutch had been the common carriers of Europe; by this act, the offspring of St. John’s resentment, one great and lucrative branch of their commercial prosperity was lopped off, and the first, but fruitless demand of the ambassadors was that, if not repealed, it should at least be suspended during the negotiation.

The Dutch merchants had solicited permission to indemnify themselves by reprisals; but the States ordered a numerous fleet to be equipped, and announced to all the neighbouring powers that their object was, not to make war, but to afford protection to their commerce. By the council of state, the communication was received as a menace; the English ships of war were ordered to exact in the narrow seas the same honour to the flag of the commonwealth as had been formerly paid to that of the king; and the

[Footnote 1: It seems probable that the letters of marque were granted not against the Dutch, but the French, as had been done for some time, and that the Dutch vessels were detained under pretence of their having French property on board. Suivant les pretextes de reprisailles contre les François et autres.–Dumont, vi. ii. 32.]

[Footnote 2: An exception was made in favour of commodities from the Levant seas, the West Indies, and the ports of Spain and Portugal, which might be imported from the usual places of trading, though they were not the growth of the said places. The penalty was the forfeiture of the ship and cargo, one moiety to the commonwealth, the other to the informer.–New Parl. Hist. iii. 1374.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 9.]

ambassadors were reminded of the claim of indemnification for the losses sustained by the English in the East Indies, of a free trade from Middleburgh to Antwerp, and of the tenth herring which was due from the Dutch fishermen for the permission to exercise their trade in the British seas.

While the conferences were yet pending, Commodore Young met[a] a fleet of Dutch merchantmen under convoy in the Channel; and, after a sharp action, compelled the men-of-war to salute the English flag. A few days later[b] the celebrated Van Tromp appeared with two-and-forty sail in the Downs. He had been instructed to keep at a proper distance from the English coast, neither to provoke nor to shun hostility, and to salute or not according to his own discretion; but on no account to yield to the newly-claimed right of search.[1] To Bourne, the English, commander, he apologized for his arrival, which, he said, was not with any hostile design, but in consequence of the loss of several anchors and cables on the opposite coast. The next day[c] he met Blake off the harbour of Dover; an action took place between the rival commanders; and, when the fleets separated in the evening, the English cut off two ships of thirty guns, one of which they took, the other they abandoned, on account of the damage which it had received.

It was a question of some importance who was the aggressor. By Blake it was asserted that Van Tromp had gratuitously come to insult the English fleet in its own roads, and had provoked the engagement by firing the first broadside. The Dutchman replied that

[Footnote 1: Le Clerc, i. 315. The Dutch seem to have argued that the salute had formerly been rendered to the king, not to the nation.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. May 12.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. May 18.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. May 19.]

he was cruising for the protection of trade; that the weather had driven him on the English coast; that he had no thought of fighting till he received the fire of Blake’s ship; and that, during the action, he had carefully kept on the defensive, though he might with his great superiority of force have annihilated the assailants.[1]

The reader will probably think, that those who submitted to solicit the continuance of peace were not the first to seek the commencement of hostilities. Immediately after the action at sea, the council ordered the English commanders to pursue, attack, and destroy all vessels the property of the United Provinces; and, in the course of a month, more than seventy sail of merchantmen, besides several men-of-war, were captured, stranded, or burnt. The Dutch, on the contrary, abstained from reprisals; their ambassadors thrice assured the council that the battle had happened without the knowledge, and to the deep regret of the States;[a] and on each occasion earnestly deprecated the adoption of hasty and violent measures, which might lead to consequences highly prejudicial to both nations. They received an answer,[b] which, assuming it as proved that the States intended to usurp the rights of England on the sea, and to

[Footnote 1: The great argument of the parliament in their declaration is the following: Tromp came out of his way to meet the English fleet, and fired on Blake without provocation; the States did not punish him, but retained him in the command; therefore he acted by their orders, and the war was begun by them. Each of these assertions was denied on the other side. Tromp showed the reasons which led him into the track of the English fleet; and the States asserted, from the evidence before them, that Tromp had ordered his sails to be lowered, and was employed in getting ready his boat to compliment the English admiral at the time when he received a broadside from the impatience of Blake.–Dumont, vi. p. ii. 33. Le Clerc, i. 315, 317. Basnage, i. 254. Heath, 315-320.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. May 24, 27, June 3.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. June 5.]

destroy the navy, the bulwark of those rights, declared that it was the duty of parliament to seek reparation for the past, and security for the future.[1]

Soon afterwards Pauw, the grand pensionary, arrived.[a] He repeated with the most solemn asseverations from his own knowledge the statement of the ambassadors;[b] proposed that a court of inquiry, consisting of an equal number of commissioners from each nation, should be appointed, and exemplary punishment inflicted on the officer who should be found to have provoked the engagement; and demanded that hostilities should cease, and the negotiation be resumed. Receiving no other answer than had been already given to his colleagues, he asked[c] what was meant by “reparation and security;” and was told by order of parliament, that the English government expected full compensation for all the charges to which it had been put by the preparations and attempts of the States, and hoped to meet with security for the future in an alliance which should render the interests of both nations consistent with each other. These, it was evident, were conditions to which the pride of the States would refuse to stoop; Pauw demanded[d] an audience of leave of the parliament; and all hope of reconciliation vanished.[2]

If the Dutch had hitherto solicited peace, it was not that they feared the result of war. The sea was their native element; and the fact of their maritime superiority had long been openly or tacitly acknowledged by all the powers of Europe. But they wisely

[Footnote 1: Heath, 320, 321.]

[Footnote 2: Compare the declaration of parliament of July 9 with that of the States General of July 23, Aug. 2. See also Whitelock, 537; Heath, 315-322; the Journals, June 5, 11, 25, 30; and Le Clerc, i. 318-321.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. June 11.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. June 17.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. June 25.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1652. June 30.]

judged that no victory by sea could repay them for the losses which they must sustain from the extinction of their fishing trade, and the suspension of their commerce.[1] For the commonwealth, on the other hand, it was fortunate that the depredations of Prince Rupert had turned the attention of the leaders to naval concerns. Their fleet had been four years in commission: the officers and men were actuated by the same spirit of civil liberty and religious enthusiasm which distinguished the land army; Ayscue had just returned from the reduction of Barbadoes with a powerful squadron; and fifty additional ships were ordered to be equipped, an object easily accomplished at a time when any merchantman capable of carrying guns could, with a few alterations, be converted into a man-of-war.[2] Ayscue with the smaller division of the fleet remained at home to scour the Channel.[a] Blake sailed to the north, captured the squadron appointed to protect the Dutch fishing-vessels, exacted from the busses the duty of every tenth herring, and sent them home with a prohibition to fish again without a license from the English government. In the mean while Van Tromp sailed from the Texel with seventy men-of-war. It was expected in Holland that he would sweep the English navy from the face of the ocean. His first attempt was to surprise Ayscue, who was saved by a calm followed by a change of wind. He then sailed to the north in search of Blake. But

[Footnote 1: The fishery employed in various ways one hundred thousand persons.–Le Clerc, 321.]

[Footnote 2: From a list of hired merchantmen converted into men-of-war, it appears that a ship of nine hundred tons burthen made a man-of-war of sixty guns; one of seven hundred tons, a man-of-war of forty-six; four hundred, of thirty-four; two hundred, of twenty; one hundred, of ten; sixty, of eight; and that about five or six men were allowed for each gun.–Journals, 1651, May 29.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. July 19.]

his fleet was dispersed by a storm; five of his frigates fell into the hands of the English; and on his return he was received with murmurs and reproaches by the populace. Indignant at a treatment which he had not deserved, he justified his conduct before the States, and then laid down his commission.[1]

De Ruyter, a name almost equally illustrious on the ocean, was appointed his successor. That officer sailed to the mouth of the Channel, took under his charge a fleet of merchantmen, and on his return was opposed by Ayscue with nearly an equal force. The English. commander burst through the enemy, and was followed by nine sail; the rest of the fleet took no share in the action, and the convoy escaped. The blame rested not with Ayscue, but with his inferior officers; but the council took the opportunity to lay him aside, not that they doubted his courage or abilities, but because he was suspected of a secret leaning to the royal cause. To console him for his disgrace, he received a present of three hundred pounds, with a grant of land of the same annual rent in Ireland.[2]

De Witte now joined De Ruyter,[a] and took the command. Blake accepted the challenge of battle, and night alone separated the combatants. The next morning the Dutch fled, and were pursued as far as the Goree. Their ships were in general of smaller dimensions, and drew less water than those of their adversaries, who dared not follow among the numerous sand-banks with which the coast is studded.[3]

Blake, supposing that naval operations would be suspended during the winter, had detached several

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 538, 539, 540, 541. Heath, 322. Le Clerc, i. 321.]

[Footnote 2: Heath, 323. Le Clerc, i. 322.]

[Footnote 3: Ibid. 326. Ludlow, i. 367. Whitelock, 545. Le Clerc, i. 324.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Sept. 28.]

squadrons to different ports, and was riding in the Downs with thirty-seven sail, when he was surprised by the appearance[a] of a hostile fleet of double that number, under the command of Van Tromp, whose wounded pride had been appeased with a new commission. A mistaken sense of honour induced the English admiral to engage in the unequal contest. The battle[b] raged from eleven in the morning till night. The English, though they burnt a large ship and disabled two others, lost five sail either sunk or taken; and Blake, under cover of the darkness, ran up the river as far as Leigh. Van Tromp sought his enemy at Harwich and Yarmouth; returning, he insulted the coast as he passed; and continued to cruise backwards and forwards from the North Foreland to the Isle of Wight.[1]

The parliament made every exertion to wipe away this disgrace. The ships were speedily refitted; two regiments of infantry embarked to serve as marines; a bounty was offered for volunteers; the wages of the seamen were raised; provision was made for their families during their absence on service; a new rate for the division of prize-money was established; and, in aid of Blake, two officers, whose abilities had been already tried, Deane and Monk, received the joint command of the fleet. On the other hand, the Dutch were intoxicated with their success; they announced it to the world, in prints, poems, and publications; and Van Tromp affixed a broom to the head of his mast as an emblem of his triumph. He had gone to the Isle of Rhée to take the homeward-bound trade under his charge, with orders to resume his station at the mouth of the Thames, and to prevent the egress of

[Footnote 1: Heath, 329. Ludlow, ii. 3. Neuville, iii. 68.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Nov. 29.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. Nov. 30.]

the English. But Blake had already stationed himself with more than seventy sail across the Channel, opposite the Isle of Portland, to intercept the return of the enemy. On the 18th of February the Dutch fleet, equal in number, with three hundred merchantmen under convoy, was discovered[a] near Cape La Hogue, steering along the coast of France. The action was maintained with the most desperate obstinacy. The Dutch lost six sail, either sunk or taken, the English one, but several were disabled, and Blake himself was severely wounded.

The following morning[b] the enemy were seen opposite Weymouth, drawn up in the form of a crescent covering the merchantmen. Many attempts were made to break through the line; and so imminent did the danger appear to the Dutch admiral, that he made signal for the convoy to shift for themselves. The battle lasted at intervals through the night; it was renewed with greater vigour near Boulogne in the morning;[c] till Van Tromp, availing himself of the shallowness of the coast, pursued his course homeward unmolested by the pursuit of the enemy. The victory was decidedly with the English; the loss in men might be equal on both sides; but the Dutch themselves acknowledged that nine of their men-of-war and twenty-four of the merchant vessels had been either sunk or captured.[1]

This was the last naval victory achieved under the auspices of the parliament, which, though it wielded the powers of government with an energy that surprised

[Footnote 1: Heath, 335. Whitelock, 551. Leicester’s Journal, 138. Le Clerc, i. 328. Basnage, i. 298-301. By the English admirals the loss of the Dutch was estimated at eleven men-of-war and thirty merchantmen.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Feb. 18.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. Feb. 19.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1653. Feb. 20.]

the several nations of Europe, was doomed to bend before the superior genius or ascendancy of Cromwell. When that adventurer first formed the design of seizing the supreme authority, is uncertain; it was not till after the victory at Worcester that he began gradually and cautiously to unfold his object. He saw himself crowned with the laurels of conquest; he held the command in chief of a numerous and devoted army; and he dwelt with his family in a palace formerly the residence of the English monarchs. His adversaries had long ago pronounced him, in all but name, “a king;” and his friends were accustomed to address him in language as adulatory as ever gratified the ears of the most absolute sovereign.[1] His importance was perpetually forced upon his notice by the praise of his dependants, by the foreign envoys who paid court to him, and by the royalists who craved his protection. In such circumstances, it cannot be surprising if the victorious general indulged the aspirings of ambition; if the stern republican, however he might hate to see the crown on the brows of another, felt no repugnance to place it upon his own.

The grandees of the army felt that they no longer possessed the chief sway in the government. War had called them away to their commands in Scotland and Ireland; and, during their absence, the conduct of affairs had devolved on those who, in contradistinction, were denominated the statesmen. Thus, by the course

[Footnote 1: The general officers conclude their despatches to him thus: "We humbly lay ourselves with these thoughts, in this emergency, at your excellency’s feet."–Milton’s State Papers, 71. The ministers of Newcastle make “their humble addresses to his godly wisdom,” and present “their humble suits to God and his excellency” (ibid. 82); and the petitioners from different countries solicit him to mediate for them to the parliament, "because God has not put the sword in his hand in vain."–Whitelock, 517.]

of events, the servants had grown into masters, and the power of the senate had obtained the superiority over the power of the sword. Still the officers in their distant quarters jealously watched, and severely criticised the conduct of the men at Westminster. With want of vigour in directing the military and naval resources of the country, they could not be charged; but it was complained that they neglected the internal economy of government; that no one of the objects demanded in the “agreement of the people” had been accomplished; and that, while others sacrificed their health and their lives in the service of the commonwealth, all the emoluments and patronage were monopolized by the idle drones who remained in the capital.[1]

On the return of the lord-general, the council of officers had been re-established at Whitehall;[a] and their discontent was artfully employed by Cromwell in furtherance of his own elevation. When he resumed his seat in the house, he reminded the members of their indifference to two measures earnestly desired by the country, the act of amnesty and the termination of the present parliament. Bills for each of these objects had been introduced as far back as 1649; but, after some progress, both were suffered to sleep in the several committees; and this backwardness of the “statesmen” was attributed to their wish to enrich themselves by forfeitures, and to perpetuate their power by perpetuating the parliament. The influence of Cromwell revived both questions. An act of oblivion was obtained,[b] which, with some exceptions, pardoned all offences committed before the battle of Worcester, and relieved the minds of the royalists from the apprehension

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 549.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Sept. 16.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. Feb. 24.]

of additional forfeitures. On the question of the expiration of parliament, after several warm debates, the period had been fixed[a] for the 3rd of November, 1654; a distance of three years, which, perhaps, was not the less pleasing to Cromwell, as it served to show how unwilling his adversaries were to resign their power. The interval was to be employed in determining the qualifications of the succeeding parliament.[1]

In the winter, the lord-general called a meeting of officers and members at the house of the speaker; and it must have excited their surprise, when he proposed to them to deliberate, whether it were better to establish a republic, or a mixed form of monarchical government. The officers in general pronounced in favour of a republic, as the best security for the liberties of the people; the lawyers pleaded unanimously for a limited monarchy, as better adapted to the laws, the habits, and the feelings of Englishmen. With the latter Cromwell agreed, and inquired whom in that case they would choose for king. It was replied, either Charles Stuart or the duke of York, provided they would comply with the demands of the parliament; if they would not, the young duke of Gloucester, who could not have imbibed the despotic notions of his elder brothers. This was not the answer which Cromwell sought: he heard it with uneasiness; and, as often as the subject was resumed, diverted the conversation to some other question. In conclusion, he gave his opinion, that, “somewhat of a monarchical government would be most effectual, if it could be established with safety to the liberties of the people,

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1651, Nov. 4, 14, 15, 18, 27; 1652, Feb. 24.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Nov. 18.]

as Englishmen and Christians."[1] That the result of the meeting disappointed his expectations, is evident; but he derived from it this advantage, that he had ascertained the sentiments of many, whose aid he might subsequently require. None of the leaders from the opposite party appear to have been present.[1]

Jealous, however, of his designs, “the statesmen” had begun to fight him with his own weapons. As the commonwealth had no longer an enemy to contend with on the land, they proposed[a] a considerable reduction in the number of the forces, and[b] a proportionate reduction of the taxes raised for their support. The motion was too reasonable in itself, and too popular in the country, to be resisted with safety: one-fourth of the army was disbanded,[c] and the monthly assessment lowered from one hundred and twenty thousand pounds to ninety thousand pounds. Before the expiration of six months, the question of a further reduction was brought forward;[d] but the council of war took the alarm, and a letter from Cromwell to the speaker[e] induced the house to continue its last vote. In a short time[f] it was again mentioned; but the next day[g] six officers appeared at the bar of the house with a petition from the army, which, under pretence of praying for improvements, tacitly charged the members with the neglect of their duty. It directed their attention to the propagation of the gospel, the reform of the law, the removal from office of scandalous and disaffected persons, the abuses in the excise and the treasury, the arrears due to the army, the violation of articles granted to the enemy, and the qualifications of future and successive parliaments. Whitelock remonstrated with Cromwell on the danger

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 516.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 2.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. Oct. 7.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Dec. 19.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1652. June 5.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1652. June 15.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1652. August 12.] [Sidenote g: A.D. 1652. August 13.]

of permitting armed bodies to assembly and petition. He slighted the advice.[1]

Soon afterwards[a] the lord-general requested a private and confidential interview with that lawyer. So violent, he observed, was the discontent of the army, so imperious the conduct of the parliament, that it would be impossible to prevent a collision of interests, and the subsequent ruin of the good cause, unless there were established “some authority so full and so high” as to be able to check these exorbitances, and to restrain both the army and the parliament. Whitelock replied, that, for the army, his excellency had hitherto kept and would continue to keep it in due subordination; but with respect to the parliament, reliance must be placed on the good sense and virtue of the majority. To control the supreme power was legally impossible. All, even Cromwell himself, derived their authority from it. At these words the lord-general abruptly exclaimed, “What, if a man should take upon him to be king?” The commissioner answered that the title would confer no additional benefit on his excellency. By his command of the army, his ascendancy in the house, and his reputation, both at home and abroad, he already enjoyed, without the envy of the name, all the power of a king. When Cromwell insisted that the name would give security to his followers, and command the respect of the people, Whitelock rejoined, that it would change the state of the controversy between the parties, and convert a national into a personal quarrel. His friends had cheerfully fought with him to establish a republican in place of monarchical government; would they equally

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 541. Journals, 1651; Dec. 19; 1652, June 15, Aug. 12, 13.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Nov. 8.]

fight with him in favour of the house of Cromwell against the house of Stuart?[1] In conclusion, Cromwell conjured him to give his advice without disguise or qualification, and received this answer, “Make a private treaty with the son of the late king, and place him on the throne, but on conditions which shall secure to the nation its rights, and to yourself the first place beneath the throne.” The general coldly observed that a matter of such importance and difficulty deserved mature consideration. They separated; and Whitelock soon discovered that he had forfeited his confidence.[2]

At length Cromwell fixed on a plan to accomplish his purpose by procuring the dissolution of the parliament, and vesting for a time the sovereign authority in a council of forty persons, with himself at their head. It was his wish to effect this quietly by the votes of parliament–his resolution to effect it by open force, if such votes were refused. Several meetings were held by the officers and members at the lodgings of the lord-general in Whitehall. St. John and a few others gave their assent; the rest, under the guidance

[Footnote 1: Henry, duke of Gloucester, and the princess Elizabeth were in England at the last king’s death. In 1650 the council proposed to send the one to his brother in Scotland, and the other to her sister in Holland, allowing to each one thousand pounds per annum, as long as they should behave inoffensively.–Journals, 1650, July 24, Sept. 11. But Elizabeth died on Sept. 8 of the same year, and Henry remained under the charge of Mildmay, governor of Carisbrook Castle, till a short time after this conference, when Cromwell, as if he looked on the young prince as a rival, advised his tutor Lovell, to ask permission to convey him to his sister, the princess of Orange. It was granted, with the sum of five hundred pounds to defray the expense of the journey.–Leicester’s Journal, 103. Heath, 331. Clarendon, iii. 525, 526.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 548-551. Were the minutes of this conversation committed to paper immediately, or after the Restoration? The credit due to them depends on this circumstance.]

of Whitelock and Widdrington, declared that the dissolution would be dangerous, and the establishment of the proposed council unwarrantable. In the mean time, the house resumed the consideration of the new representative body, and several qualifications were voted; to all of which the officers raised objections, but chiefly to the “admission of neuters," a project to strengthen the government by the introduction of the Presbyterian interest.[1] “Never,” said Cromwell, “shall any of that judgment, who have deserted the good cause, be admitted to power.” On the last meeting,[a] held on the 19th of April, all these points were long and warmly debated. Some of the officers declared that the parliament must be dissolved “one way or other;” but the general checked their indiscretion and precipitancy; and the assembly broke up at midnight, with an understanding that the leading men on each side should resume the subject in the morning.[2]

At an early hour the conference was recommenced,[b] and after a short time interrupted, in consequence of the receipt of a notice by the general that it was the intention of the house to comply with the desires of the army. This was a mistake: the opposite party, led by Vane, who had discovered the object of Cromwell,

[Footnote 1: From Ludlow (ii. 435) it appears that by this bill the number of members for boroughs was reduced, of representatives of counties increased. The qualification of an elector was the possession for his own use of an estate real or personal of the value of two hundred pounds.–Journ. 30th March, 1653. It is however singular that though the house continued to sit till April 19th–the only entry on the journals respecting this bill occurs on the 13th–making it a qualification of the candidates that they should be “persons of known integrity, fearing God, and not scandalous in their conversation."–Journal, ibid.]

[Footnote 2: Compare Whitelock’s narrative of this meeting (p. 554) with Cromwell’s, in Milton’s State Papers, 109.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653 April 19.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653 April 20.]

had indeed resolved to pass a bill of dissolution, not, however, the bill proposed by the officers, but their own bill, containing all the obnoxious provisions; and to pass it that very morning, that it might obtain the force of law before their adversaries could have time to appeal to the power of the sword.[1] While Harrison “most sweetly and humbly” conjured them to pause before they took so important a step, Ingoldsby hastened to inform the lord-general at Whitehall. His resolution was immediately formed, and a company of musketeers received orders to accompany him to the house.

At this eventful moment, big with the most important consequences both to himself and his country, whatever were the workings of Cromwell’s mind, he had the art to conceal them from the eyes of the beholders. Leaving the military in the lobby, he entered the house, and composedly seated himself on one of the outer benches. His dress was a plain suit of black cloth, with grey worsted stockings. For a while he seemed to listen with interest to the debate; but, when the speaker was going to put the question, he whispered to Harrison, “This is the time: I must do it;” and rising, put off his hat to address the house. At first his language was decorous and even laudatory. Gradually he became more warm and animated: at last he assumed all the vehemence of passion, and indulged in personal vituperation. He charged the members with self-seeking and profaneness; with the frequent denial of justice, and numerous

[Footnote 1: These particulars may be fairly collected from Whitelock, 554, compared with the declaration of the officers, and Cromwell’s speech to his parliament. The intention to dissolve themselves is also asserted by Hazlerig.–Burton’s Diary, iii. 98.]

acts of oppression; with idolizing the lawyers, the constant advocates of tyranny; with neglecting the men who had bled for them in the field, that they might gain the Presbyterians who had apostatized from the cause; and with doing all this in order to perpetuate their own power, and to replenish their own purses. But their time was come; the Lord had disowned them; he had chosen more worthy instruments to perform his work. Here the orator was interrupted by Sir Peter Wentworth, who declared that he never before heard language so unparliamentary, language, too, the more offensive, because it was addressed to them by their own servant, whom they had too fondly cherished, and whom, by their unprecedented bounty, they had made what he was. At these words Cromwell put on his hat, and, springing from his place, exclaimed, “Come, come, sir, I will put an end to your prating.” For a few seconds, apparently in the most violent agitation, he paced forward and backward, and then, stamping on the floor, added, “You are no parliament. I say you are no parliament: bring them in, bring them in.” Instantly the door opened, and Colonel Worseley entered, followed by more than twenty musketeers. “This,” cried Sir Henry Vane, “is not honest. It is against morality and common honesty.” “Sir Henry Vane,” replied Cromwell, “O Sir Henry Vane! The Lord deliver me from Sir Henry Vane! He might have prevented this. But he is a juggler, and has not common honesty himself.” From Vane he directed his discourse to Whitelock, on whom he poured a torrent of abuse; then, pointing to Challoner, “There,” he cried, “sits a drunkard;” next, to Marten and Wentworth, “There are two whoremasters:” and afterwards, selecting different members in succession, described them as dishonest and corrupt livers, a shame and a scandal to the profession of the gospel. Suddenly, however, checking himself, he turned to the guard, and ordered them to clear the house. At these words Colonel Harrison took the speaker by the hand, and led him from the chair; Algernon Sidney was next compelled to quit his seat; and the other members, eighty in number, on the approach of the military, rose and moved towards the door. Cromwell now resumed his discourse. “It is you,” he exclaimed, "that have forced me to do this. I have sought the Lord both day and night, that he would rather slay me, than put me on the doing of this work." Alderman Allen took advantage of these words to observe, that it was not yet too late to undo what had been done; but Cromwell instantly charged him with peculation, and gave him into custody. When all were gone, fixing his eye on the mace, “What,” said he, “shall we do with this fool’s bauble? Here, carry it away.” Then, taking the act of dissolution from the clerk, he ordered the doors to be locked, and, accompanied by the military, returned to Whitehall.

That afternoon the members of the council assembled in their usual place of meeting. Bradshaw had just taken the chair, when the lord-general entered, and told them, that if they were there as private individuals, they were welcome; but, if as the council of state, they must know that the parliament was dissolved, and with it also the council. “Sir,” replied Bradshaw, with the spirit of an ancient Roman, “we have heard what you did at the house this morning, and before many hours all England will know it. But, sir, you are mistaken to think that the parliament is dissolved. No power under heaven can dissolve them but themselves. Therefore take you notice of that.” After this protest they withdrew.[1]

Thus, by the parricidal hands of its own children, perished the long parliament, which, under a variety of forms, had, for more than twelve years, defended and invaded the liberties of the nation. It fell without a struggle or a groan, unpitied and unregretted. The members slunk away to their homes, where they sought by submission to purchase the forbearance of their new master; and their partisans, if partisans they had, reserved themselves in silence for a day of retribution, which came not before Cromwell slept in his grave. The royalists congratulated each other on an event which they deemed a preparatory step to the restoration of the king; the army and navy, in numerous addresses, declared that they would live or die, stand or fall, with the lord-general, and in every part of the country the congregations of the saints magnified the arm of the Lord which had broken the mighty, that in lieu of the sway of mortal men, “the fifth monarchy, the reign of Christ, might be established upon earth."[2]

It would, however, be unjust to the memory of those who exercised the supreme power after the death of the king, not to acknowledge that there existed among them men capable of wielding with energy the destinies of a great empire. They governed only four years; yet, under their auspices, the conquests of Ireland and Scotland were achieved, and a navy was

[Footnote 1: See the several accounts in Whitelock, 554; Ludlow, ii. 19 23; Leicester’s Journal, 139; Hutchinson, 332; Several Proceedings, No. 186, and Burton’s Diary, iii. 98.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 555-558. Milton’s State Papers, 90-97. Ellis, Second Series, iii. 368.]

created, the rival of that of Holland and the terror of the rest of Europe.[1] But there existed an essential error in their form of government. Deliberative assemblies are always slow in their proceedings; yet the pleasure of parliament, as the supreme power, was to be taken on every subject connected with the foreign relations, or the internal administration of the country; and hence it happened that, among the immense variety of questions which came before it, those commanded immediate attention which were deemed of immediate necessity; while the others, though often of the highest importance to the national welfare, were first postponed, then neglected, and ultimately forgotten. To this habit of procrastination was perhaps owing the extinction of its authority. It disappointed the hopes of the country, and supplied Cromwell with the most plausible argument in defence of his conduct.

Of the parliamentary transactions up to this period, the principal have been noticed in the preceding pages. I shall add a few others which may be thought worthy the attention of the reader. 1. It was complained that, since the abolition of the spiritual tribunals, the sins of incest, adultery, and fornication had been multiplied, in consequence of the impunity with which they might be committed; and, at the prayer of the godly, they were made[a] criminal offences, cognizable by the criminal courts, and punishable, the two first with death, the last with three months’ imprisonment.

[Footnote 1: “We intended,” says Scot, “to have gone off with a good savour, but we stayed to end the Dutch war. We might have brought them to oneness with us. Their ambassadors did desire a coalition. This we might have done in four or five months. We never bid fairer for being masters of the whole world."–Burton’s Diary, iii. 112.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. May 16.]

But it was predicted at the time, and experience verified the prediction, that the severity of the punishment would defeat the purpose of the law. 2. Scarcely a petition was presented, which did not, among other things, pray for the reformation of the courts of justice; and the house, after several long debates, acquiesced[a] in a measure, understood to be only the forerunner of several others,[b] that the law books should be written, and law proceedings be conducted in the English language.[1] 3. So enormous were the charges of the commonwealth, arising from incessant war by sea or land, that questions of finance continually engaged the attention of the house. There were four principal sources of revenue; the customs, the excise, the sale of fee-farm rents,[2] of the lands of the crown, and of those belonging to the bishops, deans, and chapters, and the sequestration and forfeiture of the estates of papists and delinquents. The ordinances for the latter had been passed as early as the year 1643, and in the course of the seven succeeding years, the harvest had been reaped and gathered. Still some gleanings might remain; and in 1650, an act was passed[c] for the better ordering and managing such estates; the former compositions were subjected to examination; defects and concealments were detected; and proportionate fines were in numerous cases exacted. In 1651, seventy individuals, most of them of high rank, all of opulent fortunes, who had imprudently displayed their attachment to the royal cause, were condemned[d] to forfeit their property,

[Footnote 1: Journals, May 10, Nov. 22. Whitelock, 478-483.]

[Footnote 2: The clear annual income from the fee-farm rents amounted to seventy-seven thousand pounds. In Jan. 1651, twenty-five thousand three hundred pounds of this income had been sold for two hundred and twenty-five thousand six hundred and fifty pounds.–Journals, Jan. 8.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Nov. 8.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Nov. 22.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. Jan. 22.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. July 16.]

both real and personal, for the benefit of the commonwealth. The fatal march of Charles to Worcester furnished grounds for a new proscription in 1652. First[a] nine-and-twenty, then[b] six hundred and eighty-two royalists were selected for punishment. It was enacted that those in the first class should forfeit their whole property; while to those in the second, the right of pre-emption was reserved at the rate of one-third part of the clear value, to be paid within four months.[1]

4. During the late reign, as long as the Presbyterians retained their ascendancy in parliament, they enforced with all their power uniformity of worship and doctrine. The clergy of the established church were ejected from their livings, and the professors of the Catholic faith were condemned to forfeit two-thirds of their property, or to abjure their religion. Nor was the proof of recusancy to depend, as formerly, on the slow process of presentation and conviction; bare suspicion was held a sufficient ground for the sequestrator to seize his prey; and the complainant was told that he had the remedy in his own hands, he might take the oath of abjuration. When the Independents succeeded to the exercise of the supreme power, both the persecuted parties indulged a hope of more lenient treatment, and both were disappointed. The Independents, indeed, proclaimed themselves the champions of religious liberty; they repealed the statutes imposing penalties for absence from church; and they declared

[Footnote 1: Journals, 1651, July 16; 1652, Aug. 4, Nov. 18. Scobell, 156, 210. If any of the last were papists, and afterwards disposed of their estates thus redeemed, they were ordered to banish themselves from their native country, under the penalty of having the laws against popery executed against them with the utmost severity.–Addit. Act of Nov. 18, 1652.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. August 4.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. Nov. 18.]

that men were free to serve God according to the dictates of conscience. Yet their notions of toleration were very confined: they refused to extend it either to prelacy or popery, to the service of the church of England, or of the church of Rome. The ejected clergymen were still excluded from the pulpit, and the Catholics were still the victims of persecuting statutes. In 1650, an act was passed[a] offering to the discoverers of priests and Jesuits, or of their receivers and abettors, the same reward as had been granted to the apprehenders of highwaymen. Immediately officers and informers were employed in every direction; the houses of Catholics were broken open and searched at all hours of the day and night; many clergymen were apprehended, and several were tried, and received[b] judgment of death. Of these only one, Peter Wright, chaplain to the marquess of Winchester, suffered. The leaders shrank from the odium of such sanguinary exhibitions, and transported the rest of the prisoners to the continent.[1]

But if the zeal of the Independents was more sparing of blood than that of the Presbyterians, it was not inferior in point of rapacity. The ordinances for sequestration and forfeiture were executed with unrelenting severity.[2] It is difficult to say which suffered from them most cruelly–families with small fortunes who were thus reduced to a state of penury; or husbandmen, servants, and mechanics, who, on their refusal to take the oath of abjuration, were deprived

[Footnote 1: Challoner, ii 346. MS. papers in my possession. See note. (G).]

[Footnote 2: In 1650 the annual rents of Catholics in possession of the sequestrators were retained at sixty-two thousand and forty-eight pounds seventeen shillings and threepence three farthings. It should, however, be observed that thirteen counties were not included.–Journ. Dee. 17.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650. Feb. 26.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1651. May. 19.]

of two-thirds of their scanty earnings, even of their household goods and wearing apparel.[1] The sufferers ventured to solicit[a] from parliament such indulgence as might be thought “consistent with the public peace and their comfortable subsistence in their native country.” The petition was read: Sir Henry Vane spoke in its favour; but the house was deaf to the voice of reason and humanity, and the prayer for relief was indignantly rejected.[2]

[Footnote 1: In proof I may be allowed to mention one instance of a Catholic servant maid, an orphan, who, during a servitude of seventeen years, at seven nobles a year, had saved twenty pounds. The sequestrators, having discovered with whom she had deposited her money, took two-thirds, thirteen pounds six shillings and eightpence, for the use of the commonwealth, and left her the remainder, six pounds thirteen and fourpence. In March, 1652, she appealed to the commissioners at Haberdashers’ Hall, who replied that they could afford her no relief, unless she took the oath of abjuration. See this and many other cases in the “Christian Moderator, or Persecution for Religion,

condemned by the Light of Nature, the Law of God, and Evidence of our own Principles,” p. 77-84. London, 1652.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, 1652, June 30. The petition is in the Christian Moderator, p. 59.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Jun. 30.]

Chapter VI.


Cromwell Calls The Little Parliament–Dissolves It–Makes Himself Protector–Subjugation Of The Scottish Royalists–Peace With The Dutch–New Parliament–Its Dissolution–Insurrection In England–Breach With Spain–Troubles In Piedmont–Treaty With France.

Whoever has studied the character of Cromwell will have remarked the anxiety with which he laboured to conceal his real designs from the notice of his adherents. If credit were due to his assertions, he cherished none of those aspiring thoughts which agitate the breasts of the ambitious; the consciousness of his weakness taught him to shrink from the responsibility of power; and at every step in his ascent to greatness, he affected to sacrifice his own feelings to the judgment and importunity of others. But in dissolving the late parliament he had deviated from this his ordinary course: he had been compelled to come boldly forward by the obstinacy or the policy of his opponents, who during twelve months had triumphed over his intrigues, and were preparing to pass an act which would place new obstacles in his path. Now, however, that he had forcibly taken into his own hands the reins of government, it remained for him to determine whether he should retain them in his grasp, or deliver them over to others. He preferred the latter for the maturity of time was not yet come: he saw that, among the officers who blindly submitted to be the tools of his ambition, there were several who would abandon the idol of their worship, whenever they should suspect him of a design to subvert the public liberty. But if he parted with power for the moment, it was in such manner as to warrant the hope that it would shortly return to him under another form, not as won by the sword of the military, but as deposited in his hands by the judgment of parliament.

It could not escape the sagacity of the lord-general that the fanatics, with whose aid he had subverted the late government, were not the men to be intrusted with the destinies of the three kingdoms; yet he deemed it his interest to indulge them in their wild notions of civil and religious reformation, and to suffer himself for a while to be guided by their counsels. Their first measure was to publish a Vindication of their Proceedings.[1] The long parliament they pronounced[a] incapable “of answering those ends which God, his people, and the whole nation, expected.” Had it been permitted to sit a day longer, it would “at one blow have laid in the dust the interest of all honest men and of their glorious cause.” In its place the council of war would “call to the government persons of approved fidelity and honesty;” and therefore required “public officers and ministers to proceed in their respective places,” and conjured "those who feared and loved the name of the Lord, to be instant with him day and night in their behalf."[2]

[Footnote 1: Printed by Henry Hills and Thomas Brewster, printers to the army, 1653.]

[Footnote 2: Ludlow, ii. 24. Thurloe, i. 289, 395. Sir H. Vane, after all the affronts which he had received, was offered a place in the council; but he replied that, though the reign of the saints was begun, he would defer his share in it till he should go to heaven.–Thurloe, i. 265.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. April 22.]

They next proceeded to establish[a] a council of state. Some proposed that it should consist of ten members, some of seventy, after the model of the Jewish Sanhedrim; and others of thirteen, in imitation of Christ and his twelve apostles. The last project was adopted as equally scriptural, and more convenient. With Cromwell, in the place of lord president, were joined four civilians and eight officers of high rank; so that the army still retained its ascendancy, and the council of state became in fact a military council.

From this moment for some months it would have embarrassed any man to determine where the supreme power resided. Some of the judges were superseded by others: new commissioners of the treasury and admiralty were appointed; even the monthly assessment of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds was continued for an additional half-year; and yet these and similar acts, all of them belonging to the highest authority in the state, appeared to emanate from different sources; these from the council of war, those from the council of state, and several from the lord-general himself, sometimes with the advice of one or other, sometimes without the advice of either of these councils.[1]

At the same time the public mind was agitated by the circulation of reports the most unfounded, and the advocacy of projects the most contradictory. This day it was rumoured that Cromwell had offered to recall

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 556, 557, 559. Leicester’s Journal, 142. Merc. Polit. No. 157.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. April 30.]

the royal family, on condition that Charles should marry one of his daughters; the next, that he intended to ascend the throne himself, and, for that purpose, had already prepared the insignia of royalty. Here, signatures were solicited to a petition for the re-establishment of the ancient constitution; there, for a government by successive parliaments. Some addresses declared the conviction of the subscribers that the late dissolution was necessary; others prayed that the members might be allowed to return to the house, for the sole purpose of legally dissolving themselves by their own authority. In the mean while, the lord-general continued to wear the mask of humility and godliness; he prayed and preached with more than his wonted fervour; and his piety was rewarded, according to the report of his confidants, with frequent communications from the Holy Spirit.[1] In the month of May he spent eight days in close consultation with his military divan; and the result was a determination to call a new parliament, but a parliament modelled on principles unknown to the history of this or of any other nation. It was to be a parliament of saints, of men who had not offered themselves as candidates, or been chosen by the people, but whose chief qualification consisted in holiness of life, and whose call to the office of legislators came from the choice of the council. With this view the ministers took the sense of the “congregational churches” in the several counties; the returns contained the names of the persons, “faithful, fearing God, and hating covetousness,” who were deemed qualified for this high and important trust; and out of these the council in the presence of the lord-general selected one hundred and thirty-nine

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 256, 289, 306.]

representatives for England, six for Wales, six for Ireland, and five for Scotland.[1] To each of them was sent[a] a writ of summons under the signature of Cromwell, requiring his personal attendance at Whitehall on a certain day, to take upon himself the trust, and to serve the office of member for some particular place. Of the surprise with which the writs were received by many the reader may judge. Yet, out of the whole number, two only returned a refusal: by most the very extraordinary manner of their election was taken as a sufficient proof that the call was from heaven.[2]

On the appointed day, the 4th of July, one hundred and twenty of these faithful and godly men attended[b] in the council-chamber at Whitehall. They were seated on chairs round the table; and the lord-general took his station near the middle window, supported on each side by a numerous body of officers. He addressed the company standing, and it was believed by his admirers, perhaps by himself, “that the Spirit of God spoke in him and by him.” Having vindicated in a long narrative the dissolution of the late parliament, he congratulated the persons present on the high office to which they had been called. It was not of their own seeking. It had come to them from God by the choice of the army, the usual channel through which in these latter days the Divine mercies had been dispensed to the nation. He would not

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 395. Compare the list of the members in Heath, 350, with the letters in Milton’s State Papers, 92, 94, 96.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, i. 274. Whitelock, 547. “It was a great satisfaction and encouragement to some that their names had been presented as to that service, by the churches and other godly persons."–Exact Relation of the Proceedings, &c. of the last parliament, 1654, p. 2.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. June 6.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. July 4.]

charge them, but he would pray that they might “exercise the judgment of mercy and truth,” and might “be faithful with the saints,” however those saints might differ respecting forms of worship. His enthusiasm kindled as he proceeded; and the visions of futurity began to open to his imagination. It was, he exclaimed, marvellous in his eyes; they were called to war with the Lamb against his enemies; they were come to the threshold of the door, to the very edge of the promises and prophecies; God was about to bring his people out of the depths of the sea; perhaps to bring the Jews home to their station out of the isles of the sea. “God,” he exclaimed, “shakes the mountains and they reel; God hath a high hill, too, and his hill is as the hill of Bashan; and the chariots of God are twenty thousand of angels; and God will dwell upon this hill for ever.” At the conclusion “of this grave, Christian, and seasonable speech,” he placed on the table an instrument under his own hand and seal, intrusting to them the supreme authority for the space of fifteen months from that day, then to be transmitted by them to another assembly, the members of which they should previously have chosen.[1]

The next day[a] was devoted by the new representatives to exercises of religion, not in any of the churches of the capital, but in the room where the late parliament was accustomed to sit. Thirteen of the most gifted among them successively prayed and preached, from eight in the morning till six in the evening; and several affirmed “that they had never enjoyed so much of the spirit and presence of Christ in any of the meetings

[Footnote 1: Proceedings, No. 197. Parl. Hist. xx. 153. Milton’s State Papers, 106. This last appears to me a more faithful copy than that printed by authority.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. July 5.]

and exercises of religion in all their lives, as they did on that day.” As it was solely to their reputation for superior godliness that the majority of the members owed their election, the lord-general probably expected from them little opposition to his measures; but they no sooner applied to business than he saw reason to be alarmed at the promptitude and resolution which they displayed. Though not distinguished by their opulence, they were men of independent fortunes;[1] during the late revolutions they had learned to think for themselves on the momentous questions which divided the nation; and their fanaticism, by converting their opinions into matters of conscience, had superadded an obstinacy of character not easily to be subdued. To Cromwell himself they always behaved with respect. They invited him with four of his officers to sit as a member among them; and they made him the offer of the palace of Hampton Court in exchange for his house of Newhall. But they believed and showed that they were the masters. They scorned to submit to the dictation of their servants; and, if they often followed the advice, they as often rejected the recommendations and amended the resolutions of the council of state.

One of the first subjects which engaged their attention was a contest, in which the lord-general, with all his power, was foiled by the boldness of a single individual.

[Footnote 1: They have been generally described as men in trade, and of no education; and because one of them, Praise-God Barebone, was a leather-dealer in Fleet-street, the assembly is generally known by the denomination of Barebone’s parliament.–Heath, 350. It is, however, observed by one of them, that, “if all had not very bulky estates, yet they had free estates, and were not of broken fortunes, or such as owed great sums of money, and stood in need of privilege and protection as formerly."–Exact Relation, 19. See also Whitelock, 559.]

At the very moment when he hoped to reap the fruit of his dissimulation and intrigues, he found himself unexpectedly confronted by the same fearless and enterprising demagogue, who, at the birth of the commonwealth, had publicly denounced his ambition, and excited the soldiery against him. Lilburne, on the dissolution of the long parliament, had requested permission of Cromwell to return from banishment. Receiving no answer, he came[a] over at his own risk,–a bold but imprudent step; for what indulgence could he expect from that powerful adventurer, whom he had so often denounced to the nation as “a thief, a robber, an usurper, and a murderer?” On the day after his arrival in the capital he was committed to Newgate. It seemed a case which might safely be intrusted to a jury. His return by the act of banishment had been made felony; and of his identity there could be no doubt. But his former partisans did not abandon him in his distress. Petitions with thousands of signatures were presented, praying for a respite of the trial till the meeting of the parliament; and Cromwell, willing, perhaps, to shift the odium from himself to that assembly, gave his consent. Lilburne petitioned the new parliament; his wife petitioned; his friends from the neighbouring counties petitioned; the apprentices in London did not only petition, they threatened. But the council laid before the house the depositions of spies and informers to prove that Lilburne, during his banishment, had intrigued with the royalists against the commonwealth;[1] and the prisoner himself, by the intemperance

[Footnote 1: It appears from Clarendon’s Letters at the time, that Lilburne was intimate with Buckingham, and that Buckingham professed to expect much from him in behalf of the royal cause; while, on the contrary, Clarendon believed that Lilburne would do nothing for it, and Buckingham not much more.–Clarendon Papers, iii. 75, 79, 98.]

[Sidenote: A.D. 1653. June 15.]

of his publications, contributed to irritate members. They refused to interfere; and he was arraigned[a] at the sessions, where, instead of pleading, he kept his prosecutors at bay during five successive days, appealing to Magna Charta and the rights of Englishmen, producing exceptions against the indictment, and demanding his oyer, or the specification of the act for his banishment, of the judgment on which the act was founded, and of the charge which led to that judgment. The court was perplexed. They knew not how to refuse; for he claimed it as his right, and necessary for his defence. On the other hand, they could not grant it, because no record of the charge or judgment was known to exist.

After an adjournment[b] to the next sessions, two days were spent in arguing the exceptions of the prisoner, and his right to the oyer. At length, on a threat that the court would proceed to judgment, he pleaded[c] not guilty. The trial lasted three days. His friends, to the amount of several thousands, constantly attended; some hundreds of them were said to be armed for the purpose of rescuing him, if he were condemned; and papers were circulated that, if Lilburne perished, twenty thousand individuals would perish with him. Cromwell, to encourage the court, posted two companies of soldiers in the immediate vicinity; quartered three regiments of infantry, and one of cavalry, in the city; and ordered a numerous force to march towards the metropolis. The particulars of the trial are lost. We only know that the prosecutors were content with showing[d] that Lilburne was the person named in the act; that the court directed the jury to speak only to

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. July 13.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. August 11.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1653. August 16.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1653. August 1.]

that fact; and that the prisoner made a long and vehement defence, denying the authority of the late parliament to banish him, because legally it had expired at the king’s death, and because the House of Commons was not a court of justice; and, maintaining to the jury, that they were judges of the law as well as of the fact; that, unless they believed him guilty of crime, they could not conscientiously return a verdict which would consign him to the gallows; and that an act of parliament, if it were evidently unjust, was essentially void, and no justification to men who pronounced according to their oaths. At a late hour at night the jury declared[a] him not guilty; and the shout of triumph, received and prolonged by his partisans, reached the ears of Cromwell at Whitehall.

It was not, however, the intention of the lord-general that his victim should escape. The examination[b] of the judges and jurymen before the council, with a certified copy of certain opprobrious expressions, used by Lilburne in his defence, was submitted[c] to the house, and an order was obtained that, notwithstanding his acquittal, he should be confined[d] in the Tower, and that no obedience should be paid to any writ of habeas corpus issued from the court of Upper Bench in his behalf. These measures gave great offence. It was complained, and with justice, that the men who pretended to take up arms against the king in support of the liberties of Englishmen, now made no scruple of trampling the same liberties under foot, whenever it suited their resentment or interest.[1]

[Footnote 1: See Thurloe, i. 324, 367, 368, 369, 429, 430, 435, 441, 442, 451, 453; Exact Relation, p. 5; Whitelock, 558, 560, 561, 563, 591; Journals, July 13, 14, Aug. 2, 22, 27, Nov. 26. In 1656 or 1657 this turbulent demagogue joined the society of Friends. He died Aug. 29, 1657, at Eltham, whence, on the 31st, the body of the meek Quaker was conveyed for sepulture to the new church-yard adjoining to Bedlam.–Cromwelliana, p. 168.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. August 20.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. August 22.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1653. August 27.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1653. Nov. 26.]

In the prosecution and punishment of Lilburne, the parliament was unanimous; on most other points it was divided into two parties distinctly marked; that of the Independents, who, inferior in number, superior in talents, adhered to the lord-general and the council, and that of the Anabaptists, who, guided by religious and political fanaticism, ranged themselves under the banner of Major-General Harrison as their leader. These “sectaries” anticipated the reign of Christ with his saints upon earth, they believed themselves called by God to prepare the way for this marvellous revolution; and they considered it their duty to commence by reforming all the abuses which they could discover either in church or state.[1]

In their proceedings there was much to which no one, who had embarked with them in the same cause, could reasonably object. They established a system of the most rigid economy; the regulations of the excise were revised; the constitution of the treasury was simplified and improved; unnecessary offices were totally abolished, and the salaries of the others considerably reduced; the public accounts were subjected to the most rigorous scrutiny; new facilities were given to the sale of the lands now considered as national property. Provision was made for the future registration of marriages, births, and deaths.[2] But the fanaticism

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 392, 396, 501, 515, 523.]

[Footnote 2: For the validity of marriage, if the parties were minors, was required the consent of the parents or guardians, and the age of sixteen in the male, of fourteen in the female; and in all cases that the names of the parties intending to be married should be given to the registrar of the parish, whose duty it was to proclaim them, according to their wish, either in the church after the morning exercise on three successive Lord’s days, or in the market-place on three successive market-days. Having received from him a certificate of the proclamations, containing any exceptions which might have been made, they were to exhibit it to a magistrate, and, before him, to pledge their faith to each other “in the presence of God, the searcher of hearts.” The religious ceremony was optional, the civil necessary for the civil effects of marriage,–See the Journals for the month of August, and Scobell.]

of their language, and the extravagance of their notions, exposed them to ridicule; their zeal for reform, by interfering with the interests of several different bodies at the same time, multiplied their enemies; and, before the dissolution of the house, they had earned, justly or unjustly, the hatred of the army, of the lawyers, of the gentry, and of the clergy.

1. It was with visible reluctance that they voted the monthly tax of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds for the support of the military and naval establishments. They were, indeed, careful not to complain of the amount; their objections were pointed against the nature of the tax, and the inequality of the assessments;[1] but this pretext could not hide their real object from the jealousy of their adversaries, and their leaders were openly charged with seeking to reduce the number of the army, that they might lessen the influence of the general.

2. From the collection of the taxes they proceeded to the administration of the law. In almost every petition presented of late years to the supreme authority of the nation, complaints had been made of the court of Chancery, of its dilatory proceedings, of the enormous expense which it entailed on its suitors, and of the suspicious nature of its decisions, so liable to be influenced by the personal partialities and interests of

[Footnote 1: In some places men paid but two; in others, ten or twelve shillings in the pound.–Exact Relation, 10. The assessments fell on the owners, not on the tenants.–Thurloe, i. 755.]

the judge.[1] The long parliament had not ventured to grapple with the subject; but this, the little parliament, went at once to the root of the evil, and voted that the whole system should be abolished. But then, came the appalling difficulty, how to dispose of the causes actually pending in the court, and how to substitute in its place a less objectionable tribunal. Three bills introduced for that purpose were rejected as inapplicable or insufficient: the committee prepared a fourth; it was read twice in one day, and committed, and would probably have passed, had not the subsequent proceedings been cut short by the dissolution of the parliament.[2]

3. But the reformers were not content with the abolition of a single court; they resolved to cleanse the whole of the Augean stable. What, they asked, made up the law? A voluminous collection of statutes, many of them almost unknown, and many inapplicable to existing circumstances; the dicta of judges, perhaps ignorant, frequently partial and interested; the reports of cases, but so contradictory that they were

[Footnote 1: “It was confidently reported by knowing gentlemen of worth, that there were depending in that court 23,000 (2 or 3,000?) causes; that some of them had been there depending five, some ten, some twenty, some thirty years; and that there had been spent in causes many hundreds, nay, thousands of pounds, to the utter undoing of many families."–Exact Relation, 12.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Aug. 5, Oct. 17, 23, Nov. 3. Exact Relation, 12-15. The next year, however, Cromwell took the task into his own hands; and, in 1655, published an ordinance, consisting of sixty-seven articles, “for the better regulating and limiting the jurisdiction of the high court of Chancery.” Widrington and Whitelock, the commissioners of the great seal, and Lenthall, master of the rolls, informed him by letter, that they had sought the Lord, but did not feel themselves free to act according to the ordinance. The protector took the seals from the two first, and gave them Fiennes and Lisle; Lenthall overcame his scruples, and remained in office.–See the ordinance in Scobell, 324; the objections to it in Whitelock, 621.]

regularly marshalled in hosts against each other; and the usages of particular districts, only to be ascertained through the treacherous memories of the most aged of the inhabitants. Englishmen had a right to know the laws by which they were to be governed; it was easy to collect from the present system all that was really useful; to improve it by necessary additions; and to comprise the whole within the small compass of a pocket volume. With this view, it was resolved to compose a new body of law; the task was assigned to a committee; and a commencement was made by a revision of the statutes respecting treason and murder.[1] But these votes and proceedings scattered alarm through the courts at Westminster, and hundreds of voices, and almost as many pens, were employed to protect from ruin the venerable fabric of English jurisprudence. They ridiculed the presumption of these ignorant and fanatical legislators, ascribed to them the design of substituting the law of Moses for the law of the land, and conjured the people to unite in defence of their own “birthright and inheritance,” for the preservation of which so many miseries had been endured, so much blood had been shed.[2]

4. From men of professed sanctity much had been expected in favour of religion. The sincerity of their seal they proved by the most convincing test,–an act for the extirpation of popish priests and Jesuits, and the disposal of two-thirds of the real and personal

[Footnote 1: Journals, Aug. 18, 19, Oct. 20. Exact Relation, 15-18.]

[Footnote 2: The charge of wishing to introduce the law of God was frequently repeated by Cromwell. It owed its existence to this, that many would not allow of the punishment of death for theft, or of the distinction between manslaughter and murder, because no such things are to be found in the law of Moses.–Exact Relation, 17.]

estates of popish recusants.[1] After this preliminary skirmish with antichrist, they proceeded to attack Satan himself “in his stronghold” of advowsons. It was, they contended, contrary to reason, that any private individual should possess the power of imposing a spiritual guide upon his neighbours; and therefore they resolved that presentations should he abolished, and the choice of the minister be vested in the body of the parishioners; a vote which taught the patrons of livings to seek the protection of the lord-general against the oppression of the parliament. From advowsons, the next step was to tithes. At the commencement of the session, after a long debate, it was generally understood that tithes ought to be done away with, and in their place a compensation be made to the impropriators, and a decent maintenance be provided for the clergy. The great subject of dispute was, which question should have the precedence in point of time, the abolition of the impost, or the substitution of the equivalent. For five months the committee intrusted with the subject was silent; now, to prevent, as it was thought, the agitation of the question of advowsons, they presented a report respecting the method of ejecting scandalous, and settling godly, ministers; to which they appended their own opinion, that incumbents, rectors, and impropriators had a property in tithes. This report provoked a debate of five days. When the question was put on the first part, though the committee had mustered all the force of the Independents in its favour, it was rejected by a

[Footnote 1: To procure ready money for the treasury, it was proposed to allow recusants to redeem the two-thirds for their lives, at four years’ purchase. This amendment passed, but with great opposition, on the ground that it amounted to a toleration of idolatry.–Ibid, ii. Thurloe, i. 553.]

majority of two. The second part, respecting the property in tithes, was not put to the vote; its fate was supposed to be included in that of the former; and it was rumoured through the capital that the parliament had voted the abolition of tithes, and with them of the ministry, which derived its maintenance from tithes.[1]

Here it should be noticed that, on every Monday during the session, Feakes and Powell, two Anabaptist preachers, had delivered weekly lectures to numerous audiences at Blackfriars. They were eloquent enthusiasts, commissioned, as they fancied, by the Almighty, and fearless of any earthly tribunal. They introduced into their sermons most of the subjects discussed in parliament, and advocated the principles of their sect with a force and extravagance which alarmed Cromwell and the council. Their favourite topic was the Dutch war. God, they maintained, had given Holland into the hands of the English; it was to be the landing-place of the saints, whence they should proceed to pluck the w–– of Babylon from her chair and to establish the kingdom of Christ on the continent; and they threatened with every kind of temporal and everlasting woe the man who should advise peace on any other terms than the incorporation of the United Provinces with the commonwealth of England.[2] When it was known that Cromwell had receded from this demand, their indignation

[Footnote 1: Journals, July 15-19, Nov. 17, Dec. 1, 6-10. Exact Relation, 418-424.]

[Footnote 2: Beverning, one of the Dutch ambassadors, went to the meeting on one of these occasions. In a letter, he says:–"The scope and intention is to preach down governments, and to stir up the people against the united Netherlands. Being then in the assembly of the saints, I heard one prayer, two sermons. But, good God! what cruel and abominable, and most horrid trumpets of fire, murder, and flame."–Thurloe, i. 442.]

stripped the pope of many of those titles with which he had so long been honoured by the Protestant churches, and the lord-general was publicly declared to be the beast in the Apocalypse, the old dragon, and the man of sin. Unwilling to invade the liberty of religious meetings, he for some time bore these insults with an air of magnanimity: at last he summoned[a] the two preachers before himself and the council. But the heralds of the Lord of Hosts quailed not before the servants of an earthly commonwealth: they returned rebuke for rebuke, charged Cromwell with an unjustifiable assumption of power, and departed from the conference unpunished and unabashed.[1]

By the public the sermons at Blackfriars were considered as explanatory of the views and principles of the Anabaptists in the house. The enemies of these reformers multiplied daily: ridicule and abuse were poured upon them from every quarter; and it became evident to all but themselves that the hour of their fall was rapidly approaching. Cromwell, their maker, had long ago determined to reduce them to their original nothing; and their last vote respecting the ministry appeared to furnish a favourable opportunity. The next day, the Sunday, he passed with his friends in secret consultation; on the Monday these friends mustered in considerable numbers, and at an early hour took their seats in the house. Colonel Sydenham rose. He reviewed[b] all the proceedings of the parliament, condemned them as calculated to injure almost every interest in the state, and, declaring that he would no longer sit in so useless an assembly, moved that the house should proceed to Whitehall, and deliver back the supreme power into the hands of him from whom

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 442, 534, 545, 560, 591, 621.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Dec. 6.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. Dec. 12.]

it was derived. The motion was seconded and opposed; but the Independents had come to act, not to debate. They immediately rose: the speaker, who was in the secret, left the chair; the sergeant and the clerk accompanied him, and near fifty members followed in a body. The reformers, only twenty-seven in number (for most of them had not yet arrived), gazed on each other with surprise; their first resource was to fall to prayer; and they were employed in that holy exercise, when Goff and White, two officers, entered, and requested them to withdraw. Being required to show their warrant, they called in a company of soldiers. No resistance was now offered; the military cleared the house, and the keys were left with the guard.[1]

In the mean while the speaker, preceded by the mace, and followed by Sydenham and his friends, walked through the street to Whitehall. In the way, and after his arrival, he was joined by several members, by some through curiosity, by others through fear. At Whitehall, a form of resignation of the supreme power was hastily engrossed by the clerk, subscribed by the speaker and his followers, and tendered by them to Cromwell. The lord-general put on an air of surprise; he was not prepared for such an offer, he would not load himself with so heavy a burthen. But his reluctance yielded to the remonstrances and entreaties of Lambert and the officers, and the instrument was laid in a chamber of the palace for the convenience of such members as had not yet the opportunity of subscribing their names.

[Footnote 1: Exact Relation, 25, 26. True Narrative, 3. Thurloe, i. 730. I adopt the number given by Mansel, as he could have no motive to diminish it.]

On the third day the signatures amounted to eighty, an absolute majority of the whole house; on the fourth, a new constitution was published, and Cromwell obtained the great object of his ambition,–the office and authority, though without the title, of king.[1]

On that day, about one in the afternoon, the lord-general repaired in his carriage from the palace to Westminster Hall,[a] through two lines of military, composed of five regiments of foot and three of horse. The procession formed at the door. Before him walked the aldermen, the judges, two commissioners of the great seal, and the lord mayor; behind him the two councils of state and of the army. They mounted to the court of Chancery, where a chair of state with a cushion had been placed on a rich carpet. Cromwell was dressed in a suit and cloak of black velvet, with long boots, and a broad gold band round his hat. He took his place before the chair, between the two commissioners; the judges stood in a half-circle behind it, and the civic officers ranged themselves on the right, the military on the left, side of the court.

[Footnote 1: Exact Relation, 26. True Narrative, 4. Ludlow, ii. 33. Clarendon, iii. 484. Thurloe, i. 754. The author of this new constitution is not known. Ludlow tells us that it was first communicated by Lambert to a council of field officers. When some objections were made, he replied, that the general was willing to consider any amendments which might be proposed, but would not depart from the project itself. Some, therefore, suggested that, after the death of the present lord-general, the civil and military government should be kept separate, and that no protector should be succeeded by any of his relatives. This gave so much offence, that, at a second meeting, Lambert, having informed them that the lord-general would take care of the civil administration, dismissed them to their respective commands.–Ludlow, ii. 37. It is to this, perhaps, that the Dutch ambassador alludes, when he says that Cromwell desisted from his project of being declared king on account of the displeasure of the officers.–Thurloe, i. 644.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Dec. 16.]

Lambert now came forward to address the lord-general. He noticed the dissolution of the late parliament, observed that the exigency of the time required a strong and stable government, and prayed his excellency in the name of the army and of the three nations to accept the office of protector of the commonwealth. Cromwell, though it was impossible to conceal the purpose for which he had come thither, could not yet put off the habit of dissimulation; and if, after some demur, he expressed his consent, it was with an appearance of reluctance which no one present could believe to be real.

Jessop, one of the clerks of the council, was next ordered to read the "instrument of government,” consisting of forty-two articles. 1. By it the legislative power was invested in a lord-protector and parliament, but with a provision that every act passed by the parliament should become law at the expiration of twenty days, even without the consent of the protector; unless he could persuade the house of the reasonableness of his objections. The parliament was not to be adjourned, prorogued, or dissolved, without its own consent, within the first five months after its meeting; and a new parliament was to be called within three years after the dissolution of the last. The number of the members was fixed according to the plan projected by Vane at the close of the long parliament, at four hundred for England, thirty for Scotland, and thirty for Ireland. Most of the boroughs were disfranchised, and the number of county members was increased. Every person possessed of real or personal property to the value of two hundred pounds had a right to vote,[1] unless he were a malignant or delinquent, or professor

[Footnote 1: During the long parliament this qualification had been adopted on the motion of Cromwell, in place of a clause recommended by the committee, which gave the elective franchise under different regulations to freeholders, copyholders, tenants for life, and leaseholders,–See Journals, 30th March, 1653.]

of the Catholic faith; and the disqualifications to which the electors were subject attached also to the persons elected. 2. The executive power was made to reside in the lord-protector acting with the advice of his council. He possessed, moreover, the power of treating with foreign states with the advice, and of making peace or war with the consent, of the council. To him also belonged the disposal of the military and naval power, and the appointment of the great officers of state, with the approbation of parliament, and, in the intervals of parliament, with that of the council, but subject to the subsequent approbation of the parliament. 3. Laws could not be made, nor taxes imposed, but by common consent in parliament. 4. The civil list was fixed at two hundred thousand pounds, and a yearly revenue ordered to be raised for the support of an army of thirty thousand men, two-thirds infantry, and one-third cavalry, with such a navy as the lord-protector should think necessary. 5. All who professed faith in God by Jesus Christ were to be protected in the exercise of their religion, with the exception of prelatists, papists, and those who taught licentiousness under the pretence of religion. 6. The lord-general Cromwell was named lord-protector; his successors were to be chosen by the council. The first parliament was to assemble on the 3rd of the following December; and till that time the lord-protector was vested with power to raise the moneys necessary for the public service, and to make ordinances which should have the force of law, till orders were taken in parliament respecting the same.

At the conclusion, Cromwell, raising his right hand and his eyes to heaven with great solemnity, swore to observe, and cause to be observed, all the articles of the instrument; and Lambert, falling on his knees, offered to the protector a civic sword in the scabbard, which he accepted, laying aside his own, to denote that he meant to govern by constitutional, and not by military, authority. He then seated himself in the chair, put on his hat while the rest stood uncovered, received the seal from the commissioners, the sword from the lord mayor, delivered them back again to the same individuals, and, having exercised these acts of sovereign authority, returned in procession to his carriage, and repaired in state to Whitehall. The same day the establishment of the government by a lord-protector and triennial parliaments, and the acceptance of the protectorship by the lord-general, were announced to the public by proclamation, with all the ceremonies hitherto used on the accession of a new monarch.[1]

It cannot be supposed that this elevation of Cromwell to the supreme power was viewed with satisfaction by any other class of men than his brethren in arms, who considered his greatness their own work, and expected from his gratitude their merited reward. But the nation was surfeited with revolutions. Men had suffered so severely from the ravages of war and the oppression of the military; they had seen so many instances of punishment incurred by resistance to the actual possessors of power; they were divided and

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 571-578. Thurloe, i. 639, 641. Ludlow, ii. 40. The alteration in the representation, which had been proposed in the long parliament, was generally considered an improvement,–Clar. Hist. iii. 495.]

subdivided into so many parties, jealous and hateful of each other; that they readily acquiesced in any change which promised the return of tranquillity in the place of solicitude, danger, and misery. The protector, however, did not neglect the means of consolidating his own authority. Availing himself of the powers intrusted to him by the “instrument,” he gave the chief commands in the army to men in whom he could confide; quartered the troops in the manner best calculated to put down any insurrection; and, among the multitude of ordinances which he published, was careful to repeal the acts enforcing the Engagement; to forbid all meetings on racecourses or at cockpits, to explain what offences should be deemed treason against his government; and to establish a high court of justice for the trial of those who might be charged with such offences.

He could not, however, be ignorant that, even among the former companions of his fortunes, the men who had fought and bled by his side, there were several who, much as they revered the general, looked on the protector with the most cordial abhorrence.[a] They were stubborn, unbending republicans, partly from political, partly from religious, principle. To them he affected to unbosom himself without reserve. He was still, he protested, the same humble individual whom they had formerly known him. Had he consulted his own feelings, “he would rather have taken the staff of a shepherd” than the dignity of protector. Necessity had imposed the office upon him; he had sacrificed his own happiness to preserve his countrymen from anarchy and ruin; and, as he now bore the burden with reluctance, he would lay it down with joy, the moment he could do so with safety to

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654.]

the nation. But this language made few proselytes. They had too often already been the dupes of his hypocrisy, the victims of their own credulity; they scrupled not, both in public companies, and from the pulpit, to pronounce him “a dissembling perjured villain;” and they openly threatened him with “a worse fate than had befallen the last tyrant.” If it was necessary to silence these declaimers, it was also dangerous to treat them with severity. He proceeded with caution, and modified his displeasure by circumstances. Some he removed from their commissions in the army and their ministry in the church; others he did not permit to go at large, till they had given security for their subsequent behaviour; and those who proved less tractable, or appeared more dangerous, he incarcerated in the Tower. Among the last were Harrison, formerly his fellow-labourer in the dissolution of the long parliament, now his most implacable enemy; and Feakes and Powell, the Anabaptist preachers, who had braved his resentment during the last parliament.[a] Symson, their colleague, shared their imprisonment, but procured his liberty[b] by submission.[1]

To the royalists, as he feared them less, he showed less forbearance. Charles, who still resided in Paris, maintained a constant correspondence with the friends of his family in England, for the twofold purpose of preserving a party ready to take advantage of any revolution in his favour, and of deriving from their loyalty advances of money for his own support and that of his followers. Among the agents whom he employed, were men who betrayed his secrets, or pretended

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 641, 642; ii. 67, 68. Whitelock, 580, 582, 596. Ludlow, ii. 47.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Feb. 30.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. July 26.]

secrets, to his enemies,[1] or who seduced his adherents into imaginary plots, that by the discovery they might earn the gratitude of the protector. Of the latter class was an individual named Henshaw, who had repaired to Paris, and been refused what he solicited, admission to the royal presence. On his return, he detailed to certain royalists a plan by which the protector might be assassinated on his way to Hampton Court, the guards at Whitehall overpowered, the town surprised, and the royal exile proclaimed. Men were found to listen to his suggestions; and when a sufficient number were entangled in the toil, forty were apprehended[a] and examined. Of these, many consented to give evidence; three were selected[b] for trial before the high court of justice. Fox, one of the three, pleaded guilty, and thus, by giving countenance to the evidence of Henshaw, deserved and obtained[c] his pardon. Vowell, a schoolmaster, and Gerard, a young gentleman two-and-twenty years of age, received[d] judgment of death. The first suffered on the gallows, glorying that he died a martyr in the cause of royalty. Gerard, before he was beheaded, protested in the strongest terms that, though he had heard, he had never approved of the design.[2] In the depositions, it was pretended that Charles had given his consent to the assassination of the protector.

[Footnote 1: Clarendon informs Nicholas (June 12), that in reality no one secret had been betrayed or discovered.–Clar. Papers, iii. 247. But this is doubtful; for Willis, one of the committee called “the sealed knot,” who was imprisoned, but discharged in September (Perfect Account, No. 194), proved afterwards a traitor.]

[Footnote 2: State Trials, v. 517-540. Thurloe, ii. 416, 446, 447. Whitelock, 591, 593, 593. Henshaw was not produced on the trial. It was pretended that he had escaped. But we learn from Thurloe that he was safe in the Tower, and so Gerard suspected in his speech on the scaffold.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. May 24.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. June 30.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. July 6.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1654. July 10.]

Though Cromwell professed to disbelieve the charge, yet as a measure of self-defence he threatened the exiled prince that, if any such attempt were encouraged, he should have recourse to retaliation, and, at the same time, intimated that it would be no difficult matter for him to execute his threat.[1]

On the same scaffold, but an hour later, perished a foreign nobleman, only nineteen years old, Don Pantaleon Sa, brother to Guimaraes, the Portuguese ambassador. Six months before, he and Gerard, whose execution we have just noticed, had quarrelled[a] in the New Exchange. Pantaleon, the next evening,[b] repaired to the same place with a body of armed followers; a fray ensued; Greenway, a person unconcerned in the dispute, was killed by accident or mistake; and the Portuguese fled to the house of the ambassador, whence they were conducted to prison by the military. The people, taking up the affair as a national quarrel, loudly demanded the blood of the reputed murderers. On behalf of Pantaleon it was argued: 1. That he was an ambassador, and therefore answerable to no one but his master; 2. That he was a person attached to the embassy, and therefore covered by the privilege of his principal. But the

[Footnote 1: Cromwell did not give credit to the plots for murdering him.–Thurloe, ii. 512, 533. Clarendon writes thus on the subject to his friend Nicholas: “I do assure you upon my credit, I do not know, and upon my confidence, the king does not, of any such design. Many wild, foolish persons propose wild things to the king, which he civilly discountenances, and then they and their friends brag what they hear, or could do; and, no doubt, in some such noble rage that hath now fallen out which they talk so much of at London, and by which many honest men are in prison, of which whole matter the king knows no more than secretary Nicholas doth."–Clar. Papers, iii. 247. See, however, the account of Sexby’s plot in the next chapter.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Nov. 21.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. Nov. 22.]

instrument which he produced in proof of the first allegation was no more than a written promise that he should succeed his brother in-office; and in reply to the second, it was maintained[a] that the privilege of an ambassador, whatever it might be, was personal, and did not extend to the individuals in his suite. At the bar, after several refusals, he was induced by the threat of the peine forte et dure to plead not guilty; and his demand of counsel, on account of his ignorance of English law, was rejected, on the ground that the court was “of counsel equal to the prisoner and the commonwealth.” He was found guilty, and condemned, with four of his associates. To three of these the protector granted a pardon; but no entreaties of the several ambassadors could prevail in favour of Pantaleon. He was sacrificed, if we believe one of them, to the clamour of the people, whose feelings were so excited, that when his head fell on the scaffold,[b] the spectators proclaimed their joy by the most savage yells of exultation.[1] It was the very day on which his brother, perhaps to propitiate the protector, had signed the treaty between the two nations.

These executions had been preceded by one of a very different description. Colonel Worsley had apprehended a Catholic clergyman, of the name of Southworth, who, thirty-seven years before, had been convicted at Lancaster, and sent into banishment. The old man (he had passed his seventy-second year),

[Footnote 1: See in State Trials, v. 461-518, a numerous collection of authorities and opinions respecting this case. Also ibid. 536. That Pantaleon and his friends were armed, cannot be denied: was it for revenge? So it would appear from the relation in Somers’s Tracts, iii. 65; Whitelock, 569; and State Trials, v. 482. Was it solely for defence? Such is the evidence of Metham (Thurloe, ii. 222), and the assertion of Pantaleon at his death.–Whitelock, ii. 595.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. July 5.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. July 10.]

at his arraignment, pleaded that he had taken orders in the church of Rome, but was innocent of any treason. The recorder advised him to withdraw his plea, and gave him four hours for consideration. But Southworth still owned that he was a Catholic and in orders; judgment of death was pronounced; and the protector, notwithstanding the urgent solicitations of the French and Spanish ambassadors, resolved that he should suffer. It was not that Cromwell approved of sanguinary punishments in matters of religion, but that he had no objection to purchase the good-will of the godly by shedding the blood of a priest. The[a] fate of this venerable man[a] excited the sympathy of the higher classes. Two hundred carriages and a crowd of horsemen followed the hurdle on which he was drawn to the place of execution. On the scaffold, he spoke with satisfaction of the manner of his death, but at the same time pointed out the inconsistency of the men who pretended to have taken up arms for liberty of conscience, and yet shed the blood of those who differed from them in religious opinions. He suffered the usual punishment of traitors.[1]

The intelligence of the late revolution had been received by the military in Ireland and Scotland with open murmurs on the part of some, and a suspicious acquiescence on that of others. In Ireland, Fleetwood knew not how to reconcile the conduct of his father-in-law with his own principles, and expressed a wish to resign the government of the island; Ludlow and Jones, both stanch republicans, looked on the protector as a hypocrite and an apostate, and though the latter was more cautious in his language, the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, ii. 406. Whitelock, 592. Challoner, ii. 354. Knaresborough’s Collections, MS.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654 June 23.]

former openly refused to act as civil commissioner under the new constitution; and in most of the garrisons several of the principal officers made no secret of their dissatisfaction: in one case they even drew up a remonstrance against “the government by a single person.” But Cromwell averted the storm which threatened him, by his prudence and firmness. He sent his son Henry on a visit to Fleetwood, that he might learn the true disposition of the military; the more formidable of his opponents were silently withdrawn to England; and several of the others found themselves suddenly but successively deprived of their commands. In most cases interest proved more powerful than principle; and it was observed that out of the numbers, who at first crowded to the Anabaptist conventicle at Dublin as a profession of their political creed, almost all who had any thing to lose, gradually abandoned it for the more courtly places of worship. Even the Anabaptists themselves learned to believe that the ambition of a private individual could not defeat the designs of the Lord, and that it was better for men to retain their situations under the protector, than, by abandoning them, to deprive themselves of the means of promoting the service of God, and of hastening the reign of Christ upon earth.[1]

In Scotland the spirit of disaffection equally prevailed among the superior officers; but their attention was averted from political feuds by military operations. In the preceding years, under the appearance of general tranquillity, the embers of war had continued to smoulder in the Highlands: they burst into a flame on the departure of Monk to take the command of the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, ii. 149, 150, 162, 214.]

English fleet. To Charles in France, and his partisans in Scotland, it seemed a favourable moment; the earls of Glencairn and Balcarras, were successively joined by Angus, Montrose, Athol, Seaforth, Kenmure, and Lorne, the son of Argyle; and Wogan, an enterprising officer, landing at Dover,[a] raised a troop of royalists in London, and traversing England under the colours of the commonwealth, reached in safety the quarters of his Scottish friends. The number of the royalists amounted to some thousands: the nature of the country and the affections of the natives were in their favour; and their spirits were supported by the repeated, but fallacious, intelligence of the speedy arrival of Charles himself at the head of a considerable force. A petty, but most destructive, warfare ensued. Robert Lilburne, the English commander, ravaged the lands of all who favoured the royalists; the royalists, those of all who remained neuter, or aided their enemies. But in a short time, personal feuds distracted the councils of the insurgents; and, as the right of Glencairn to the chief command was disputed, Middleton arrived[b] with a royal commission, which all were required to obey. To Middleton the protector opposed Monk.[c] It was the policy of the former to avoid a battle, and exhaust the strength of his adversary by marches and counter-marches in a mountainous country, without the convenience of roads or quarters; but in an attempt to elude his pursuer, Middleton was surprised[d] at Loch Garry by the force under Morgan; his men, embarrassed in the defile, were slain or made prisoners; and his loss taught the royalist leaders to deserve mercy by the promptitude of their submission. The Earl of Tullibardine set the example;[e] Glencairn followed; they were imitated by their associates;

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. Nov. 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. Feb. 1.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. April 8.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1654. July 19.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1654. August 24.]

and the lenity of Monk contributed as much as the fortune of war to the total suppression of the insurgents.[1] Cromwell, however, did not wait for the issue of the contest. Before Monk had joined the army, he published[a] three ordinances, by which, of his supreme authority, he incorporated Scotland with England, absolved the natives from their allegiance to Charles Stuart, abolished the kingly office and the Scottish parliament, with all tenures and superiorities importing servitude and vassalage, erected courts-baron to supply the place of the jurisdictions which he had taken away, and granted a free pardon to the nation, with the exception of numerous individuals whom he subjected to different degrees of punishment. Thus the whole frame of the Scottish constitution was subverted: yet no one ventured to remonstrate or oppose. The spirit of the nation had been broken. The experience of the past, and the presence of the military, convinced the people that resistance was fruitless: of the nobility, many languished within the walls of their prisons in England; and the others were ground to the dust by the demands of their creditors, or the exactions of the sequestrators; and even the kirk, which had so often bearded kings on their thrones, was taught to feel that its authority, however it might boast of its celestial origin, was no match for the earthly power of the English commonwealth.[2] Soon after Cromwell had called his little parliament, the general assembly of the kirk met[b]

[Footnote 1: See the ratification of the surrenders of Tullibardine, Glencairn, Heriot, Forrester, Kenmure, Montrose, and Seaforth, dated at different times between Aug. 24 and Jan. 10, in the Council Book, 1655, Feb. 7.]

[Footnote 2: Scobell, 289, 293-295. Whitelock, 583,597, 599. Burnet, i. 58-61. Baillie, ii. 377, 381. Milton, State Papers, 130, 131.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. April 1.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. July 20.]

at the usual place in Edinburgh; and Dickson, the moderator, had begun his prayer, when Colonel Cotterel, leaving two troops of horse and two companies of foot at the door, entered[a] the house, and inquired by what authority they sat there; Was it by authority of the parliament, or of the commander of the forces, or of the English judges in Scotland? The moderator meekly but firmly replied, that they formed a spiritual court, established by God, recognized by law, and supported by the solemn league and covenant. But this was a language which the soldier did not, or would not, understand. Mounting a bench, he declared that there existed no authority in Scotland which was not derived from the parliament of England; that it was his duty to put down every illegal assumption of power; and that they must immediately depart or suffer themselves to be dragged out by the military under his command. No one offered to resist: a protestation was hastily entered on the minutes; and the whole body was marched between two files of soldiers through the streets, to the surprise, and grief, and horror of the inhabitants. At the distance of a mile from the city, Cotterel discharged them with an admonition, that, if any of them were found in the capital after eight o’clock on the following morning, or should subsequently presume to meet in greater numbers than three persons at one time, they would be punished with imprisonment, as disturbers of the public peace. “Thus,” exclaims Baillie, “our general assembly, the glory and strength of our church upon earth, is by your soldiery crushed and trode under foot. For this our hearts are sad, and our eyes run down with water."[1]

[Footnote 1: Baillie, ii. 370.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. July 20.]

Yet after this they were permitted to meet in synods and presbyteries, an indulgence which they owed not to the moderation of their adversaries, but to the policy of Vane, who argued that it was better to furnish them with the opportunity of quarrelling among themselves, than, by establishing a compulsory tranquillity, allow them to combine against the commonwealth. For the ministers were still divided into resolutioners and protestors, and the virulence of this religious feud appeared to augment in proportion as the parties were deprived of real power. The resolutioners were the more numerous, and enjoyed a greater share of popular favour; but the protestors were enemies of Charles Stuart, and therefore sure of the protection of the government. Hence it happened that in every struggle for the possession of churches–and such struggles continually happened between the two parties–the protestors were invariably supported against the voice of the people by the swords of the military.[1]

By foreign powers the recent elevation of Cromwell was viewed without surprise. They were aware of his ambition, and had anticipated his success. All who had reason to hope from his friendship, or to fear from his enmity, offered their congratulations, and ambassadors and envoys from most of the princes of Europe crowded to the court of the protector. He

[Footnote 1: Baillie, 371-376, 360. Burnet, i. 62. Whilst Baillie weeps over the state of the kirk, Kirkton exults at the progress of the gospel. "I verily believe,” he writes, “there were more souls converted unto Christ in that short period of time than in any season since the Reformation. Ministers were painful, people were diligent. At their solemn communions many congregations met in great multitudes, some dozen of ministers used to preach, and the people continued as it were in a sort of trance (so serious were they in spiritual exercises) for three days at least."–Kirkton 54, 55.]

received them with all the state of a sovereign. From his apartments in the Cockpit he had removed with his family to those which in former times had been appropriated to the king: they were newly furnished in the most costly and magnificent style; and in the banqueting-room was placed a chair of state on a platform, raised by three steps above the floor. Here the protector stood to receive the ambassadors. They were instructed to make three reverences, one at the entrance, the second in the midway, and the third at the lower step, to each of which Cromwell answered by a slight inclination of the head. When they had delivered their speeches, and received the reply of the protector, the same ceremonial was repeated at their departure. On one occasion he was requested to permit the gentlemen attached to the embassy to kiss his hand; but he advanced to the upper step, bowed to each in succession, waved his hand, and withdrew. On the conclusion of peace with the States, the ambassadors received from him an invitation to dinner. He sat alone on one side of the table, they, with some lords of the council, on the other. Their ladies were entertained by the lady protectress. After dinner, both parties joined in the drawing-room; pieces of music were performed, and a psalm was sung, a copy of which Cromwell gave to the ambassadors, observing that it was the best paper that had ever passed between them. The entertainment concluded with a walk in the gallery.[1]

This treaty with the United Provinces was the first which engaged the attention of the protector, and was

[Footnote 1: Clarendon Papers, iii. 240. Thurloe, i. 50, 69, 154, 257. It appears from the Council Book that the quarterly expense of the protector’s family amounted to thirty-five thousand pounds. 1655, March 14.]

not concluded till repeated victories had proved the superiority of the English navy, and a protracted negotiation had exhausted the patience of the States. In the preceding month of May the hostile fleets, each consisting of about one hundred sail, had put to sea, the English commanded by Monk, Dean, Penn, and Lawson; the Dutch by Van Tromp, De Ruyter, De Witte, and Evertsens. While Monk insulted the coast of Holland, Van Tromp cannonaded[a] the town of Dover. They afterwards met each other off the North Foreland, and the action continued the whole day. The enemy lost two sail; on the part of the English, Dean was killed by a chain-shot. He fell by the side of Monk, who instantly spread his cloak over the dead body, that the men might not be alarmed at the fete of their commander.

The battle was renewed the next morning.[b] Though Blake, with eighteen sail, had joined the English in the night, Van Tromp fought with the most determined courage; but a panic pervaded his fleet; his orders were disobeyed; several captains fled from the superior fire of the enemy; and, ultimately, the Dutch sought shelter within the Wielings, and along the shallow coast of Zeeland. They lost one-and-twenty sail; thirteen hundred men were made prisoners, and the number of killed and wounded was great in proportion.[1]

Cromwell received the news of this victory with transports of joy. Though he could claim no share in the merit (for the fleet owed its success to the exertions

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 557. Ludlow, ii. 27. Heath, 344. Le Clerc, i. 333. Basnage, i. 307. It appears from the letters in Thurloe, that the English fought at the distance of half cannon-shot, till the enemy fell into confusion, and began to fly, when their disabled ships were surrounded, and captured by the English frigates.–Thurloe, i. 269, 270, 273, 277, 278.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. June 2.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. June 3.]

of the government which he had overturned), he was aware that it would shed a lustre over his own administration; and the people were publicly called upon to return thanks to the Almighty for so signal a favour. It was observed that on this occasion he did not command but invite; and the distinction was hailed by his admirers as a proof of the humility and single-mindedness of the lord-general.[1]

To the States, the defeat of their fleet proved a subject of the deepest regret. It was not the loss of men and ships that they deplored; such loss might soon be repaired; but it degraded them in the eyes of Europe, by placing them in the posture of suppliants deprecating the anger of a victorious enemy. In consequence of the importunate entreaties of the merchants, they had previously appointed ambassadors to make proposals of peace to the new government; but these ministers did not quit the coast of Holland till after the battle;[a] and their arrival in England at this particular moment was universally attributed to a conviction of inferiority arising from the late defeat. They were introduced[b] with due honour to his excellency and the council; but found them unwilling to recede from the high demands formerly made by the parliament. As to the claim of indemnification for the past, the ambassadors maintained that, if a balance were struck of their respective losses, the Dutch would be found the principal sufferers; and, to the demand of security for the future, they replied, that it might be obtained by the completion of that treaty, which had been interrupted by the sudden departure of St. John and Strickland from the Hague. The obstinacy of the council induced the ambassadors to demand[c] passports

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 558.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. May 26.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. June 22.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1653. July 19.]

for their return; but means were found to awaken in them new hopes, and to amuse them with new proposals. In the conferences, Cromwell generally bore the principal part. Sometimes he chided the ambassadors in no very courteous terms; sometimes he described with tears the misery occasioned by the war; but he was always careful to wrap up his meaning in such obscurity, that a full month elapsed before the Dutch could distinctly ascertain his real demands. They were then informed[a] that England would waive the claim of pecuniary compensation, provided Van Tromp were removed for a while from the command of their fleet, as an acknowledgment that he was the aggressor; but that, on the other hand, it was expected that the States should consent to the incorporation of the two countries into one great maritime power, to be equally under the same government, consisting of individuals chosen out of both. This was a subject on which the ambassadors had no power to treat; and it was agreed that two of their number should repair to the Hague for additional instructions.[1]

But, a few days before their departure, another battle had been fought[b] at sea, and another victory won by the English. For eight weeks Monk had blockaded the entrance of the Texel; but Van Tromp, the moment his fleet was repaired, put to sea, and sought to redeem the honour of the Belgic flag. Each admiral commanded about one hundred sail; and as long as Tromp lived, the victory hung in suspense; he had burst through the English line, and returned to his first station, when he fell by a musket-shot; then the

[Footnote 1: See on this subject a multitude of original papers in Thurloe, i. 268, 284, 302, 308, 315, 316, 340, 362, 370, 372, 381, 382, 394, 401.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. July 26.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. July 31.]

Dutch began to waver; in a short time they fled, and the pursuit continued till midnight. That which distinguished this from every preceding action was the order issued by Monk to make no prizes, but to sink or destroy the ships of the enemy. Hence the only trophies of victory were the prisoners, men who had been picked up after they had thrown themselves into the water, or had escaped in boats from the wrecks. Of these, more than a thousand were brought to England, a sufficient proof that, if the loss of the enemy did not amount to twenty sail, as stated by Monk, it exceeded nine small vessels, the utmost allowed by the States.[1]

During the absence of the other ambassadors, Cromwell sought several private interviews with the third who remained, Beverning, the deputy from the States of Holland; and the moderation with which he spoke of the questions in dispute, joined to the tears with which he lamented the enmity of two nations so similar in their political and religious principles, convinced the Dutchman that an accommodation might be easily and promptly attained. At his desire his colleagues returned; the conferences were resumed; the most cheering hopes were indulged; when suddenly the English commissioners presented seven-and-twenty articles, conceived in a tone of insulting superiority, and demanding sacrifices painful and degrading. A few days later the parliament was dissolved; and, as it was evident that the interests of the new protector required a peace, the ambassadors began to affect indifference on the subject, and demanded passports to depart. Cromwell, in his turn, thought proper to yield; some claims

[Footnote 1: Le Clerc, i. 335. Basnage, i. 313. Several Proceedings, No. 197. Perfect Diurnal, No. 187. Thurloe, i. 392, 420, 448.]

were abandoned; others were modified, and every question was adjusted, with the exception of this, whether the king of Denmark, the ally of the Dutch, who, to gratify them, had seized and confiscated twenty-three English merchantmen in the Baltic,[1] should be comprehended or not in the treaty. The ambassadors were at Gravesend on their way home, when Cromwell proposed[a] a new expedient, which they approved. They proceeded, however, to Holland; obtained the approbation of the several states, and returned[b] to put an end to the treaty. But here again, to their surprise, new obstacles arose. Beverning had incautiously boasted of his dexterity; he had, so he pretended compelled the protector to lower his demands by threatening to break off the negotiation; and Cromwell now turned the tables upon him by playing a similar game. At the same time that he rose in some of his demands, he equipped a fleet of one hundred sail, and ordered several regiments to embark. The ambassadors, aware that the States had made no provision to oppose this formidable armament, reluctantly acquiesced;[c] and on the 5th of April, after a negotiation of ten months, the peace was definitively signed.[2]

By this treaty the English cabinet silently abandoned those lofty pretensions which it had originally put forth. It made no mention of indemnity for the past, of security for the future, of the incorporation of the two states, of the claim of search, of the tenth herring, or of the exclusion of the prince of Orange

[Footnote 1: Basnage, i. 289.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, i. 570, 607, 616, 624, 643, 650; ii. 9, 19, 28, 36, 74, 75, 123, 137, 195, 197. Le Clerc. i, 340-343. During the whole negotiation, it appears from these papers that the despatches of, and to, the ambassadors were opened, and copies of almost all the resolutions taken by the States procured, by the council of state.–See particularly Thurloe, ii. 99, 153.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Jan. 6.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. Feb. 28.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. April 5.]

from the office of stadtholder. To these humiliating conditions the pride of the States had refused to submit; and Cromwell was content to accept two other articles, which, while they appeared equally to affect the two nations, were in reality directed against the Stuart family and its adherents. It was stipulated that neither commonwealth should harbour or aid the enemies, rebels, or exiles of the other; but that either, being previously required, should order such enemies, rebels, or exiles to leave its territory, under the penalty of death, before the expiration of twenty-eight days. To the demand, that the same respect which had been paid to the flag of the king should be paid to that of the commonwealth, the Dutch did not object. The only questions which latterly retarded the conclusion of the treaty related to the compensation to be made to the merchants for the depredations on their trade in the East Indies before, and the detention of their ships by the king of Denmark during, the war. It was, however, agreed that arbitrators should be chosen out of both nations, and that each government should be bound by their award.[1] These determined[a] that the island of Polerone should be restored, and damages to the amount of one hundred and seventy thousand pounds should be paid to the English East India Company; that three thousand six hundred and fifteen pounds should be distributed among the heirs of those who suffered at Amboyna; and that a compensation of ninety-seven thousand nine hundred and seventy-three pounds should be made to the traders to the Baltic.[2]

[Footnote 1: Dumont, v. part ii. 74.]

[Footnote 2: See the award, ibid. 85, 88. By Sagredo, the Venetian ambassador, who resided during the war at Amsterdam, we are told that the Dutch acknowledged the loss of one thousand one hundred and twenty-two men-of-war and merchantmen; and that the expense of this war exceeded that of their twenty years’ hostilities with Spain. He states that their inferiority arose from three causes: that the English ships were of greater bulk; the English cannon were of brass, and of a larger calibre; and the number of prizes made by the English at the commencement crippled the maritime resources of their enemies.–Relazione, MS. Le Clerc states that the Dutch employed one hundred thousand men in the herring-fishery (i. 321).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. August 30.]

On one subject, in the protector’s estimation of considerable importance, he was partially successful. Possessed of the supreme power himself, he considered Charles as a personal rival, and made it his policy to strip the exiled king of all hope of foreign support. From the prince of Orange, so nearly allied to the royal family, Cromwell had little to fear during his minority; and, to render him incapable of benefiting the royal cause in his more mature age, the protector attempted to exclude him by the treaty from succeeding to those high offices which might almost be considered hereditary in his family. The determined refusal of the States had induced him to withdraw the demand; but he intrigued, through the agency of Beverning, with the leaders of the Louvestein party;[1] and obtained a secret article, by which the states of Holland and West Friesland promised never to elect the prince of Orange for their stadtholder, nor suffer him to have the chief command of the army and navy. But the secret transpired; the other states highly resented this clandestine negotiation; complaints and remonstrances were answered by apologies and vindications; an open schism was declared between the provinces, and every day added to the exasperation of the two parties. On the whole, however, the quarrel was favourable to the pretensions of the young prince,

[Footnote 1: The leaders of the republicans were so called, because they had been confined in the castle of Louvestein, whence they were discharged on the death of the late prince of Orange.]

from the dislike with which the people viewed the interference of a foreign potentate, or rather, as they termed him, of an usurper, in the internal arrangements of the republic.[1]

The war[a] in which the rival crowns of France and Spain had so long been engaged induced both Louis and Philip to pay their court to the new protector. Alonzo de Cardenas, the Spanish ambassador, had the advantage of being on the spot. He waited on Cromwell to present to him the congratulations of his sovereign, and to offer to him the support of the Spanish monarch, if he should feel desirous to rise a step higher, and assume the style and office of king. To so flattering a message, a most courteous answer was returned; and the ambassador proceeded to propose an alliance between the two powers, of which the great object should be to confine within reasonable bounds the ambition of France, which, for so many years, had disturbed the tranquillity of Europe. This was the sole advantage to which Philip looked; to Cromwell the benefit would be, that France might be compelled to refuse aid and harbour to Charles Stuart and his followers; and to contract the obligation of maintaining jointly with Spain the protector in the government of the three kingdoms. Cromwell listened, but gave no answer; he appointed commissioners to discuss the proposal, but forbade them to make any promise, or to hold out any hope of his acquiescence. When Don Alonzo communicated to them the draft of a treaty which he had all but concluded with the deputies appointed by the late parliament, he was

[Footnote 1: Dumont, 79. Thurloe, vol. ii. iii. Vaughan, i. 9, 11. La Déduction, or Defence of the States in Holland, in Le Clerc, i. 345, and Basnage, i. 342.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653.]

asked whether the king of Spain would consent to a free trade to the West Indies, would omit the clause respecting the Inquisition, reduce to an equality the duties on foreign merchandise, and give to the English merchant the pre-emption of the Spanish wool. He replied, that his master would as soon lose his eyes as suffer the interference of any foreign power on the two first questions; as to the others, satisfactory adjustments might easily be made; This was sufficient for the present. Cromwell affected to consider the treaty at an end; though the real fact was, that he meditated a very different project in his own mind, and was careful not to be precluded by premature arrangements.[1]

The French ambassador, though he commenced his negotiation under less propitious auspices, had the address or good fortune to conduct it to a more favourable issue. That the royal family of France, from its relationship to that of England, was ill-disposed towards the commonwealth, there could be no doubt; but its inclinations were controlled by the internal feuds which distracted, and the external war which demanded, the attention of the government. The first proof of hostility was supposed to be given before the death of the king, by a royal arrét[a] prohibiting the importation into France of English woollens and silks; and this was afterwards met by an order of parliament[b] equally prohibiting the importation into England of French woollens, silks, and wines. The alleged infraction of these commercial

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 705, 759, 760. Dumont, v. part ii. p. 106. The clause respecting the Inquisition was one which secured the English traders from being molested by that court, on condition that they gave no scandal,–modo ne dent scandalum. This condition Cromwell wished to be withdrawn.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1648. Oct. 21.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1649. August 23.]

regulations led to the arrest and subsequent condemnation of vessels belonging to both nations; each government issued letters-of-marque to the sufferers among its subjects; and the naval commanders received instructions to seek that compensation for the individuals aggrieved which the latter were unable to obtain of themselves.[1] Thus the maritime trade of both countries was exposed to the depredations of private and national cruisers, while their respective governments were considered as remaining at peace. But in 1651, when the Cardinal Mazarin had been banished from France, it was resolved by Cromwell, who had recently won the battle of Worcester, to tempt the fidelity of d’Estrades, the governor of Dunkirk and a dependant on the exiled minister. An officer of the lord-general’s regiment made to d’Estrades the offer of a considerable sum, on condition that he would deliver the fortress into the hands of the English; or of the same sum, with the aid of a military force to the cardinal, if he preferred to treat in the name of his patron. The governor complained of the insult offered to his honour; but intimated[a] that, if the English wished to purchase Dunkirk, the proposal might be addressed to his sovereign. The hint was taken, and the offer was made, and debated in the royal council at Poictiers. The cardinal, who returned to France at the very time, urged its

[Footnote 1: See the instructions to Popham. “In respect that many of the English so spoiled are not able to undergo the charge of setting forth ships of their own to make seizures by such letters-of-marque; ... you shall, as in the way and execution of justice, seize, arrest, &c. such ships and vessels of the said French king, or any of his subjects, as you shall think fit,... and the same keep in your custody, till the parliament declare their further resolution concerning the same."–Thurloe, i. 144.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. Feb.]

acceptance;[1] but the queen-mother and the other counsellors were so unwilling to give the English a footing in France, that he acquiesced in their opinion, and a refusal was returned. Cromwell did not fail to resent the disappointment. By the facility which he afforded to the Spanish levies in Ireland, their army in Flanders was enabled to reduce Gravelines, and, soon afterwards, to invest[a] Dunkirk. That fortress was on the point of capitulating when a French flotilla of seven sail, carrying from twenty to thirty guns each, and laden with stores and provisions, was descried[b] stealing along the shore to its relief. Blake, who had received secret orders from the council, gave chase; the whole squadron was captured, and the next day[c] Dunkirk opened its gates.[2] By the French court this action was pronounced an unprovoked and unjustifiable injury; but Mazarin coolly calculated the probable consequences of a war, and, after some time, sent[d] over Bordeaux, under the pretence of claiming the captured ships, but in reality to oppose the intrigues of the agents of Spain, of the prince of Condé, and of the city of Bordeaux, who laboured to obtain the support of the commonwealth in opposition to the French court.[3]

Bordeaux had been appointed[e] ambassador to the parliament; after the inauguration of Cromwell, it became necessary to appoint him ambassador to his

[Footnote 1: Here Louis XIV., to whom we are indebted for this anecdote observes; that it was the cardinal’s maxim de pourvoir, à quelque prix qu’il fût, aux affaires présentes, persuadé que les maux à venir, trouveroient leur remède dans l’avenir même.–Oeuvres de Louis XIV. i. 170.]

[Footnote 2: Ibid. 168-170. See also Heath, 325; Thurloe, i. 214; Whitelock, 543.]

[Footnote 3: Journals, 14 Dec. 1652. Clar. Pap. iii. 105, 123, 132. Thurloe, i. 436.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1652. May 8.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1652. Sept. 5.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1652. Sept. 6.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1652. Dec. 10.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1653. Feb. 21.]

highness the protector. But in what style was Louis to address the usurper by letter? “Mon cousin” was offered and refused; “mon frère,” which Cromwell sought, was offensive to the pride of the monarch; and, as a temperament between the two, “monsieur le protecteur” was given and accepted. Bordeaux proposed a treaty of amity, by which all letters-of-marque should be recalled, and the damages suffered by the merchants of the two nations be referred to foreign arbitrators. To thwart the efforts of his rival, Don Alonzo, abandoning his former project, brought forward the proposal of a new commercial treaty between England and Spain. Cromwell was in no haste to conclude with either. He was aware that the war between them was the true cause of these applications; that he held the balance in his hand, and that it was in his power at any moment to incline it in favour of either of the two crowns. His determination, indeed, had long been taken; but it was not his purpose to let it transpire; and when he was asked the object of the two great armaments preparing in the English ports, he refused to give any satisfactory explanation.[1]

In this state of the treaty, its further progress was for a while suspended by the meeting[a] of the protector’s first parliament. He had summoned it for the 3rd of September, his fortunate day, as he perhaps believed himself, as he certainly wished it to be believed by others. But the 3rd happened in that year to fall on a Sunday; and, that the Sabbath might not be profaned

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 760; ii. 61, 113, 228, 559, 587. An obstacle was opposed to the progress of the treaty by the conduct of Le Baas, a dependant on Mazarin, and sent to aid Bordeaux with his advice. After some time, it was discovered that this man (whether by order of the minister, or at the solicitation of the royalists, is uncertain) was intriguing with the malcontents. Cromwell compelled him to return to France.–Thurloe, ii. 309, 351, 412, 437.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Sept. 3.]

by the agitation of worldly business, he requested the members to meet him at sermon in Westminster Abbey on the following morning.[a] At ten the procession set out from Whitehall. It was opened by two troops of life-guards; then rode some hundreds of gentlemen and officers, bareheaded, and in splendid apparel; immediately before the carriage walked the pages and lackeys of the protector in rich liveries, and on each side a captain of the guard; behind it came Claypole, master of the horse, leading a charger magnificently caparisoned, and Claypole was followed by the great officers of state and the members of the council. The personal appearance of the protector formed a striking contrast with the parade of the procession. He was dressed in a plain suit, after the fashion of a country gentleman, and was chiefly distinguished from his attendants by his superior simplicity, and the privilege of wearing his hat. After sermon, he placed himself in the chair of state in the Painted Chamber, while the members seated themselves, uncovered on benches ranged along the walls. The protector then rose, took off his hat, and addressed them in a speech which lasted three hours. It was, after his usual style, verbose, involved, and obscure, sprinkled with quotations from Scripture to refresh the piety of the saints, and seasoned with an affectation of modesty to disarm the enmity of the republicans. He described the state of the nation at the close of the last parliament. It was agitated by the principles of the Levellers, tending to reduce all to an equality; by the doctrines of the Fifth-monarchy men, subversive of civil government; by religious theorists, the pretended champions of liberty of conscience, who condemned an established ministry as Babylonish and antichristian;

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Sept. 4.]

and by swarms of Jesuits, who had settled in England an episcopal jurisdiction to pervert the people. At the same time the naval war with Holland absorbed all the pecuniary resources, while a commercial war with France and Portugal cramped the industry of the nation. He then bade them contrast this picture with the existing state of things. The taxes had been reduced; judges of talent and integrity had been placed upon the bench; the burthen of the commissioners of the great seal had been lightened by the removal of many descriptions of causes from the court of Chancery to the ordinary courts of law; and “a stop had been put to that heady way for every man, who pleased, to become a preacher.” The war with Holland had terminated in an advantageous peace; treaties of commerce and amity had been concluded with Denmark and Sweden;[1] a similar treaty, which would place the British trader beyond the reach of the Inquisition, had been signed with Portugal, and another was in progress with the ambassador of the French monarch. Thus had the government brought the three nations by hasty strides towards the land of promise; it was for the parliament to introduce them into it. The prospect was bright before them; let them not look

[Footnote 1: That with Sweden was negotiated by Whitelock, who had been sent on that mission against his will by the influence of Cromwell. The object was to detach Sweden from the interest of France, and engage it to maintain the liberty of trade in the Baltic, against Denmark, which was under the influence of Holland. It was concluded April 11. After the peace with Holland, the Danish monarch hastened to appease the protector; the treaty which, though said by Cromwell to be already concluded, was not signed till eleven days afterwards, stipulated that the English traders should pay no other customs or dues than the Dutch. Thus they were enabled to import naval stores on the same terms, while before, on account of the heavy duties, they bought them at second hand of the Dutch.–See the treaties in Dumont. v. part ii. p. 80, 92.]

back to the onions and flesh-pots of Egypt. He spoke not as their lord, but their fellow-servant, a labourer with them in the same good work; and would therefore detain them no longer, but desire them to repair to their own house, and to choose their speaker.[1]

To procure a parliament favourable to his designs, all the power of the government had been employed to influence the elections; the returns had been examined by a committee of the council, under the pretext of seeing that the provisions of the “instrument” were observed; and the consequence was, that the Lord Grey of Groby, Major Wildman, and some other noted republicans, had been excluded by command of the protector. Still he found himself unable to mould the house to his wishes. By the court, Lenthall was put in nomination for the office of speaker; by the opposition, Bradshaw, the boldest and most able of the opposite party. After a short debate, Lenthall was chosen, by the one, because they knew him to be a timid and a time-serving character; by the other, because they thought that, to place him in the chair, was one step towards the revival of the long parliament, of which he had been speaker. But no one ventured to propose that he should be offered, according to ancient custom, to the acceptance of the supreme magistrate. This was thought to savour too much of royalty.[2]

[Footnote 1: Compare the official copy printed by G. Sawbridge, 1654, with the abstract by Whitelock (599, 600), and by Bordeaux (Thurloe, ii. 518). See also Journals, Sept. 3, 4.]

[Footnote 2: It appears from the Council Book (1654, Aug. 21), that, on that day, letters were despatched to the sheriffs, containing the names of the members who had been approved by the council, with orders to give them notice to attend. The letters to the more distant places were sent first, that they might all be received about the same time.]

It was not long before the relative strength of the parties was ascertained. After a sharp debate,[a] in which it was repeatedly asked why the members of the long parliament then present should not resume the authority of which they had been illegally deprived by force, and by what right, but that of the sword, one man presumed to “command his commanders," the question was put, that the house resolve itself into a committee, to determine whether or not the government shall be in a single person and a parliament; and, to the surprise and alarm of Cromwell, it was carried[b] against the court by a majority of five voices.[1] The leaders of the opposition were Bradshaw, Hazlerig, and Scot, who now contended in the committee that the existing government emanated from an incompetent authority, and stood in opposition to the solemn determination of a legitimate parliament; while the protectorists, with equal warmth, maintained that, since it had been approved by the people, the only real source of power, it could not be subject to revision by the representatives of the people. The debate lasted several days,[c] during which the commonwealth party gradually increased in number. That the executive power might be profitably delegated to a single individual, was not disputed; but it was contended that, of right, the legislative authority belonged exclusively to the parliament. The officers and courtiers, finding that the sense of the house was against them, dropped[d] the question of right, and fled to that of expediency; in the existing circumstances, the public safety required a

[Footnote 1: Journals, Sept. 8. Many of those who voted in the majority did not object to the authority of the protector, but to the source from which it emanated,–a written instrument, the author of which was unknown. They wished it to be settled on him by act of parliament.–Thurloe, ii. 606.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Sept. 7.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. Sept. 8.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. Sept. 9.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1654. Sept. 11.]

check on the otherwise unbounded power of parliament; that check could be no other than a co-ordinate authority, possessing a negative voice; and that authority was the protector, who had been pointed out to them by Providence, acknowledged by the people in their addresses, and confirmed by the conditions expressed in the indentures of the members. It was replied, that the inconveniency of such a check had induced the nation to abolish the kingly government; that the addresses of the people expressed their joy for their deliverance from the incapacity of the little parliament, not their approbation of the new government; that Providence often permits what it disapproves; and that the indentures were an artifice of the court, which could not have force to bind the supreme power. To reconcile the disputants, a compromise between the parties had been planned; but Cromwell would not suffer the experiment to be tried.[1] Having ordered[b] Harrison, whose partisans were collecting signatures to a petition, to be taken into custody, he despatched three regiments to occupy the principal posts in the city, and commanded the attendance of the house in the Painted Chamber. There, laying aside that tone of modesty which he had hitherto assumed, he frankly told the members that his calling was from God, his testimony from the people; and that no one but God and the people should ever take his office from him. It was not of his seeking; God knew that it was his utmost ambition to lead the life of a country gentleman; but imperious circumstances had imposed it upon him. The long parliament brought their dissolution upon themselves by despotism, the little parliament

[Footnote 1: See introduction to Burton’s Diary, xxiv.-xxxii.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Sept. 12.]

by imbecility.[1] On each occasion he found himself invested with absolute power over the military, and, through the military, over the three nations. But on each occasion he was anxious to part with that power; and if, at last, he had acquiesced in the instrument of government, it was because it made the parliament a check on the protector, and the protector a check on the parliament. That he did not bring himself into his present situation, he had God for a witness above, his conscience for a witness within, and a cloud of witnesses without; he had the persons who attended when he took the oath of fidelity to “the instrument;” the officers of the army in the three nations, who testified their approbation by their signatures; the city of London, which feasted him, the counties, cities, and boroughs, that had sent him addresses; the judges, magistrates, and sheriffs, who acted by his commission; and the very men who now stood before him, for they came there in obedience to his writ, and under the express condition that “the persons so chosen should not

[Footnote 1: It is remarkable that, in noticing the despotism of the long parliament, he makes mention of the very same thing, which his enemy Lilburne urged against it: “by taking the judgment, both in capital and criminal things, to themselves, who in former times were not known to exercise such a judicature.” He boldly maintains that they meant to perpetuate themselves by filling up vacancies as they occurred, and had made several applications to him to obtain his consent. He adds, “Poor men, under this arbitrary power, were driven like flocks of sheep by forty in a morning, to the confiscation of goods and estates, without any man being able to give a reason that two of them had deserved to forfeit a shilling. I tell you the truth; and my soul, and many persons whose faces I see in this place, were exceedingly grieved at these things, and knew not which way to help it, but by their mournings, and giving their negatives when the occasion served.” I notice this passage, because since the discovery of the sequestrators’ papers it has been thought, from the regularity with which their books were kept, and the seeming equity of their proceedings, as they are entered, that little injustice was done.]

have power to change the government as settled in one single person and the parliament.” He would, therefore, have them to know, that four things were fundamental: 1. That the supreme power should be vested in a single person and parliament; 2. that the parliament should be successive, and not perpetual; 3. that neither protector nor parliament alone should possess the uncontrolled command of the military force; and 4. that liberty of conscience should be fenced round with such barriers as might exclude both profaneness and persecution. The other articles of the instrument were less essential; they might be altered with circumstances; and he should always be ready to agree to what was reasonable. But he would not permit them to sit, and yet disown the authority by which they sat. For this purpose he had prepared a recognition which he required them to sign. Those who refused would be excluded the house; the rest would find admission, and might exercise their legislative power without control, for his negative remained in force no longer than twenty days. Let them limit his authority if they pleased. He would cheerfully submit, provided he thought it for the interest of the people.[1]

The members, on their return, found a guard of soldiers at the door of the house, and a parchment for signatures lying on a table in the lobby. It contained the recognition of which the protector had spoken; a pledge that the subscribers would neither propose nor consent to alter the government, as it was settled in one person and a parliament. It was immediately signed by Lenthall, the speaker; his example was followed by the court party; and in the course of a few

[Footnote 1: Printed by G. Sawbridge, 1654.]

days almost three hundred names were subscribed. The Stanch republicans refused; yet the sequel showed that their exclusion did not give to the court that ascendancy in the house which had been anticipated.[1]

About this time an extraordinary accident occurred. Among the presents which Cromwell had received from foreign princes, were six Friesland coach-horses from the duke of Oldenburg. One day,[a] after he had dined with Thurloe under the shade in the park, the fancy took him to try the mettle of the horses. The secretary was compelled to enter the carriage; the protector, forgetful of his station, mounted the box. The horses at first appeared obedient to the hand of the new coachman; but the too frequent application of the lash drove them into a gallop, and the protector was suddenly precipitated from his seat. At first, he lay suspended by the pole with his leg entangled in the harness; and the explosion of a loaded pistol in one of his pockets added to the fright and the rapidity of the horses; but a fortunate jerk extricated his foot from his shoe, and he fell under the body of the carriage without meeting with injury from the wheels. He was immediately taken up by his guards, who followed at full speed, and conveyed to Whitehall; Thurloe leaped from the door of the carriage, and escaped with a sprained ancle and some severe bruises. Both were confined to their chambers for a long time;

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, ii. 606. Whitelock, 605. Journals, Sept. 5-18. Fleetwood, from Dublin, asks Thurloe, “How cam it to passe, that this last teste was not at the first sitting of the house?” (ii. 620). See in Archæol. xxiv. 39, a letter showing that several, who refused to subscribe at first through motives of conscience, did so later. This was in consequence of a declaration that the recognition did not comprehend all the forty-two articles in “the instrument,” but only what concerned the government by a single person and successive parliaments.–See Journals, Sept. 14.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Sept. 24.]

but by many, their confinement was attributed as much to policy as to indisposition. The Cavaliers diverted themselves by prophesying that, as his first fall had been from a coach, the next would be from a cart: to the public, the explosion of the pistol revealed the secret terrors which haunted his mind, that sense of insecurity, those fears of assassination, which are the usual meed of inordinate and successful ambition.[1]

The force so lately put on the parliament, and the occasion of that force, had opened the eyes of the most devoted among his adherents. His protestations of disinterestedness, his solemn appeals to Heaven in testimony of his wish to lead the life of a private gentleman, were contrasted with his aspiring and arbitrary conduct; and the house, though deprived of one-fourth of its number, still contained a majority jealous of his designs and anxious to limit his authority. The accident which had placed his life in jeopardy naturally led to the consideration of the probable consequences of his death; and, to sound the disposition of the members, the question of the succession was repeatedly, though not formally, introduced. The remarks which it provoked afforded little encouragement to his hopes; yet, when the previous arrangements had been made, and all the dependants of the government had been mustered, Lambert, having in a long and studied speech detailed the evils of elective, the benefits of hereditary, succession, moved[a] that the office of protector should be limited to the family of Oliver Cromwell, according to the known law of inheritance. To the surprise and the mortification

[Footnote 1: Heath, 363. Thurloe, ii. 652, 653, 672. Ludlow, ii. 63. Vaughan, i. 69.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Oct. 13.]

of the party, the motion was negatived by a division of two hundred against eighty voices; and it was resolved that, on the death of the protector, his successor should be chosen by the parliament if it were sitting, and by the council in the absence of parliament.[1]

This experiment had sufficiently proved the feelings of the majority. Aware, however, of their relative weakness, they were careful to give Cromwell no tangible cause of offence. If they appointed committees to revise the ordinances which he had published, they affected to consider them as merely provisional regulations, supplying the place of laws till the meeting of parliament. If they examined in detail the forty-two articles of “the instrument,” rejecting some, and amending others, they still withheld their unhallowed hands from those subjects which hehad pronounced sacred,–the four immovable pillars on which the new constitution was built. Cromwell, on his part, betrayed no symptom of impatience; but waited quietly for the moment when he had resolved

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 668, 681, 685. Whitelock, 607. Journals, Nov. 30. Though the house was daily occupied with the important question of the government, it found leisure to inquire into the theological opinions of John Biddle, who may be styled the father of the English Unitarians. He had been thrice imprisoned by the long parliament, and was at last liberated by the act of oblivion in 1652. The republication of his opinions attracted the notice of the present parliament: to the questions put to him by the speaker, he replied, that he could nowhere find in Scripture that Christ or the Holy Ghost is called God; and it was resolved that he should be committed to the Gatehouse, and that a bill to punish him should be prepared. The dissolution saved his life; and by application to the Upper Bench, he recovered his liberty; but was again arrested in 1655, and sent to the isle of Scilly, to remain for life in the castle of St. Mary. Cromwell discharged him in 1658; but he was again sent to Newgate in 1662, where he died the same year.–See Vita Bidelli, the short account; Journals, Dec. 12, 13, 1654; Wood, iii. 594; and Biog. Brit.]

to break the designs of his adversaries. They proceeded with the revision of “the instrument;” their labours were embodied in a bill,[a] and the bill was read a third time. During two days the courtiers prolonged the debate by moving a variety of amendments; on the third Cromwell summoned[b] the house to meet him in the Painted Chamber. Displeasure and contempt were marked on his countenance; and the high and criminatory tone which he assumed taught them to feel how inferior the representatives of the people were to the representative of the army.

They appeared there, he observed, with the speaker at their head, as a house of parliament. Yet, what had they done as a parliament? He never had played, he never would play, the orator; and therefore he would tell them frankly, they had done nothing. For five months they had passed no bill, had made no address, had held no communication with him. As far as concerned them, he had nothing to do but to pray that God would enlighten their minds and give a blessing to their labours. But had they then done nothing? Yes: they had encouraged the Cavaliers to plot against the commonwealth, and the Levellers to intrigue with the Cavaliers. By their dissension they had aided the fanatics to throw the nation into confusion, and by the slowness of their proceedings had compelled the soldiers to live at free quarters on the country. They supposed that he sought to make the protectorship hereditary in his family. It was not true; had they inserted such a provision in “the instrument,” on that ground alone he would have rejected it. He spoke in the fear of the Lord, who would not be mocked, and with the satisfaction that his conscience did not belie his assertion. The

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655. Jan. 19.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1655. Jan. 22.]

different revolutions which had happened were attributed to his cunning. How blind were men who would not see the hand of Providence in its merciful dispensations, who ridiculed as the visions of enthusiasm the observations "made by the quickening and teaching Spirit!” It was supposed that he would not be able to raise money without the aid of parliament. But “he had been inured to difficulties, and never found God failing when he trusted in him.” The country would willingly pay on account of the necessity. But was not the necessity of his creation? No: it was of God; the consequence of God’s providence. It was no marvel, if men who lived on their masses and service-books, their dead and carnal worship, were strangers to the works of God; but for those who had been instructed by the Spirit of God, to adopt the same language, and say that men were the cause of these things, when God had done them, this was more than the Lord would bear. But that he might trouble them no longer, it was his duty to tell them that their continuance was not for the benefit of the nation, and therefore he did then and there declare that he dissolved the parliament.[1]

This was a stroke for which his adversaries were unprepared. “The instrument” had provided that the parliament should continue to sit during five months, and it still wanted twelve days of the expiration of that term. But Cromwell chose to understand the clause not of calendar but of lunar months, the fifth of which had been completed on the preceding evening. Much might have been urged against such an interpretation; but a military force was ready to

[Footnote 1: Printed by Henry Hills, printer to his highness the lord-protector, 1654. Whitelock, 610-618. Journals, Jan. 19, 20, 22.]

support the opinion of the protector, and prudence taught the most reluctant of his enemies to submit.

The conspiracies to which he had alluded in his speech had been generated by the impatience of the two opposite parties, the republicans and the royalists. Of the republicans some cared little for religion, others were religious enthusiasts, but both were united in the same cause by one common interest. The first could not forgive the usurpation of Cromwell, who had reaped the fruit, and destroyed the object of their labours; the second asked each other how they could conscientiously sit quiet, and allow so much blood to have been spilt, and treasure expended, so many tears to have been shed, and vows offered in vain. If they “hoped to look with confidence the King of terrors in the face, if they sought to save themselves from the bottomless pit, it was necessary to espouse once more the cause of Him who had called them forth in their generation to assert the freedom of the people and the privileges of parliament."[1] Under these different impressions, pamphlets were published exposing the hypocrisy and perjuries of the protector; letters and agitators passed from regiment to regiment; and projects were suggested and entertained for the surprisal of Cromwell’s person, and the seizure[a] of the castle of Edinburgh, of Hull, Portsmouth, and other places of strength. But it was not easy for the republicans to deceive the vigilance, or elude the grasp of their adversary. He dismissed all officers of doubtful fidelity from their commands in the army, and secured the obedience of the men by the substitution of others more devoted to his interest; by his order, Colonel Wildman was surprised in the very act of dictating

[Footnote 1: See Thurloe, iii. 29; and Milton’s State Papers, 132.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655. Feb. 10.]

to his secretary a declaration against the government, of the most offensive and inflammatory tendency; and Lord Grey of Groby, Colonels Alured, Overton, and others, were arrested, of whom some remained long in confinement, others were permitted to go at large, on giving security for their peaceable behaviour.[1]

The other conspiracy, though more extensive in its ramifications, proved equally harmless in the result. Among the royalists, though many had resigned themselves to despair, there were still many whose enthusiasm discovered in each succeeding event a new motive for hope and exultation. They listened to every tale which flattered their wishes, and persuaded themselves, that on the first attempt against the usurper they would be joined by all who condemned his hypocrisy and ambition. It was in vain that Charles, from Cologne, where he had fixed his court, recommended caution; that he conjured his adherents not to stake his and their hopes on projects, by which, without being serviceable to him, they would compromise their own safety. They despised his warnings; they accused him of indolence and apathy; they formed associations, collected arms, and fixed the 14th of February for simultaneous risings in most counties of England.[2] The day was postponed to March 7; but Charles, at their request, proceeded in disguise to Middleburgh in Zeeland, that he might be in readiness to cross over to England; and Lord Wilmot, lately created earl of Rochester, with Sir Joseph Wagstaff, arrived to take the command of the insurgents,

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iii. passim. Whitelock, 608-620. Bates, 290, 291.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon (Hist. iii. 552) is made to assign the 18th of April for the day of rising; but all the documents, as well as his own narrative, prove this to be an error.]

the first in the northern, the second in the western counties. It was the intention of Wagstaff to surprise Winchester during the assizes; but the unexpected arrival[a] of a troop of cavalry deterred him from the attempt. He waited patiently till the judges proceeded to Salisbury; and, learning that their guard had not accompanied them, entered that city with two hundred men at five o’clock in the morning of Monday.[b] The main body with their leader took possession of the market-place; while small detachments brought away the horses from the several inns, liberated the prisoners in the gaol, and surprised the sheriff and the two judges in their beds. At first Wagstaff gave orders that these three should be immediately hanged; for they were traitors acting under the authority of the usurper; then, pretending to relent, he discharged the judges on their parole, but detained the sheriff a prisoners because he had refused to proclaim Charles Stuart. At two in the afternoon he left Salisbury, but not before he had learned to doubt of the result. Scarcely a man had joined him of the crowd of gentlemen and yeomen whom the assizes had collected in the town; and the Hampshire royalists, about two hundred and fifty horse, had not arrived according to their promise. From Salisbury the insurgents marched through Dorsetshire into the county of Devon. Their hopes grew fainter every hour; the further they proceeded, their number diminished; and, on the evening of the third day,[c] they reached Southmolton in a state of exhaustion and despondency. At that moment, Captain Crook, who had followed them for several hours, charged into the town with a troop of cavalry. Hardly a show of resistance was made; Penruddock, Grove, and Jones, three of the leaders, with some fifty others, were made

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655. March 7.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1655. March 11.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1655. March 14.]

prisoners; the rest, of whom Wagstaff had the good fortune to be one, aided by the darkness of the night, effected their escape.[1]

The Hampshire royalists had commenced their march for Salisbury, when, learning that Wagstaff had left that city, they immediately dispersed. Other risings at the same time took place in the counties of Montgomery, Shropshire, Nottingham, York, and Northumberland, but everywhere with similar results. The republicans, ardently as they desired to see the protector humbled in the dust, were unwilling that his ruin should be effected by a party whose ascendancy appeared to them a still more grievous evil. The insurgents were ashamed and alarmed at the paucity of their numbers; prudence taught them to disband before they proceeded to acts of hostility; and they slunk away in secrecy to their homes, that they might escape the proof, if not the suspicion, of guilt. Even Rochester himself, sanguine as he was by disposition, renounced the attempt; and, with his usual good fortune, was able to thread back his way, through a thousand dangers, from the centre of Yorkshire to the court of the exiled sovereign at Cologne.[2]

Whether it was through a feeling of shame, or apprehension of the consequences, Cromwell, even under the provocations which he had received, ventured not to bring to trial any of the men who had formerly fought by his side, and now combined against him because he trampled on the liberties of the nation. With the royalists it was otherwise. He knew that their sufferings would excite little commiseration in those whose

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 620. Thurloe, iii. 263, 295, 306. Heath, 367. Clarendon, iii. 551, 560. Ludlow, ii. 69. Vaughan, i. 149.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 618, 620. Heath, 368. Clarendon, iii. 560.]

favour he sought; and he was anxious to intimidate the more eager by the punishment of their captive associates. Though they had surrendered[a] under articles, Penruddock and Grove were beheaded at Exeter; about fifteen others suffered in that city and in Salisbury; and the remainder were sent to be sold for slaves in Barbadoes.[1] To these executions succeeded certain measures of precaution. The protector forbade all ejected and sequestered clergymen of the church of England to teach as schoolmasters or tutors, or to preach or use the church service as ministers either in public or private; ordered all priests belonging to the church of Rome to quit the kingdom under the pain of death; banished all Cavaliers and Catholics to the distance of twenty miles from the metropolis; prohibited the publication in print of any news or intelligence without permission from the secretary of state; and placed in confinement most of the nobility and principal gentry in England, till they could produce bail for their good behaviour and future appearance. In addition, an ordinance was published that “all who had ever borne arms for the king, or declared themselves to be of the royal party, should be decimated, that is, pay a tenth part of all the estate which they had left, to support the charge which the commonwealth was put to by the unquietness of their temper, and the just cause of jealousy which they had administered.” It is difficult to conceive a more iniquitous imposition. It was subversive of the act of oblivion formerly procured by Cromwell himself, which pretended to abolish the memory of all past offences; contrary to natural justice, because it involved the innocent and guilty in the same punishment; and productive

[Footnote 1: State Trials, v. 767-790.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655. May 16.]

of the most extensive extortions, because the commissioners included among the enemies of the commonwealth those who had remained neutral between the parties, or had not given satisfaction by the promptitude of their services, or the amount of their contributions. To put the climax to these tyrannical proceedings, he divided the country into eleven, and, at one period, into fourteen, military governments, under so many officers, with the name and rank of major-generals, giving them authority to raise a force within their respective jurisdictions, which should serve only on particular occasions; to levy the decimation and other public taxes; to suppress tumults and insurrections; to disarm all papists and Cavaliers; to inquire into the conduct of ministers and schoolmasters; and to arrest, imprison, and bind over, all dangerous and suspected persons. Thus, this long and sanguinary struggle, originally undertaken to recover the liberties of the country, terminated in the establishment of a military despotism. The institutions which had acted as restraints on the power of preceding sovereigns were superseded or abolished; the legislative, as well as the executive authority, fell into the grasp of the same individual; and the best rights of the people were made to depend on the mere pleasure of an adventurer, who, under the mask of dissimulation, had seized, and by the power of the sword retained, the government of three kingdoms.[1]

[Footnote 1: Sagredo, who had lately arrived as ambassador extraordinary, thus describes the power of Cromwell:–"Non fa caro del nome, gli basta possedere l’autorità e la potenza, senza comparazione majore non solo di quanti re siano stati in Inghilterra, ma di quanti monarchi stringono presentamente alcun scetro nel mondo. Smentite le legge fondamentali del regno, egli è il solo legislatore: tutti i governi escono dalle sue mane, e quelli del consiglio, per entrarvi, devono essere nominati da sua altezza, ne possono divenir grandi, se non da lui inalzati. E perchè alcuno non abbia modo di guadagnar autorità sopra l’armata, tutti gli avanzamenti, senza passar per alcun mezzo, sono da lui direttamente conosciuti."–Sagredo, MS.]

From domestic occurrences, we may now turn to those abroad. During the last year, the two armaments which had so long engaged the attention of the European nations, had sailed from the English ports. Their real, but secret, destination was to invade the American colonies and surprise the Plate fleet of Spain, the most ancient and faithful ally of the commonwealth. To justify the measure, it was argued in the council that, since America was not named in the treaties of 1604 and 1630, hostilities in America would be no infraction of those treaties; that the Spaniards had committed depredations on the English commerce in the West Indies, and were consequently liable to reprisals; that they had gained possession of these countries by force against the will of the natives, and might, therefore, be justly dispossessed by force; and, lastly, that the conquest of these transatlantic territories would contribute to spread the light of the gospel among the Indians and to cramp the resources of popery in Europe.[1] That such flimsy pretences should satisfy the judgment of the protector is improbable; his mind was swayed by very different motives–the prospect of reaping, at a small cost, an abundant harvest of wealth and glory, and the opportunity of

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 760, 761; ii. 54, 154, 570. Ludlow, ii. 51, 105. The article of the treaty of 1630, on which Cromwell rested his claim of a free trade to the Indies, was the first, establishing peace between all the subjects of the two crowns (subditos quoscumque); that which, the Spaniards alleged, was the seventh, in which as the king of Spain, would not consent to a free trade to America, it was confined to those countries in which, such free trade had been exercised before the war between Elizabeth of England and Philip of Spain–words which excluded America as effectually as if it had been named.–See Dumont, iv. part ii. p. 621.]

engaging in foreign service the officers of whose fidelity at home he had good reason to be jealous.

The Spanish cabinet, arguing from circumstances, began to suspect his object, and, as a last effort, sent[a] the marquess of Leyda ambassador extraordinary to the court of London. He was graciously received, and treated with respect; but, in defiance of his most urgent solicitations, could not, during five months, obtain a positive answer to his proposals. He represented to the protector the services which Spain had rendered to the commonwealth; adverted to the conduct of De Baas, as a proof of the insidious designs of Mazarin; maintained that the late insurrection had been partially instigated by the intrigues of France; and that French troops had been collected on the coast to accompany Charles Stuart to England, if his friends had not been so quickly suppressed; and concluded by offering to besiege Calais, and, on its reduction, to cede it to Cromwell, provided he, on his part, would aid the prince of Condé in his design of forcing his way into Bordeaux by sea. At length, wearied with delays, and esteeming a longer residence in England a disgrace to his sovereign, he demanded[b] passports, and was dismissed with many compliments by the protector.[1]

In the mean while, Blake, who commanded one of the expeditions, had sailed to the Straits of Gibraltar, where he received many civilities from the Spanish authorities. Thence he proceeded up the Mediterranean, capturing, under pretence of reprisals, the French vessels, whether merchantmen or men-of-war, and seeking, but in vain, the fleet under the duke of Guise. Returning to the south, he appeared before

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 761; ii. 54, 154, 570. Dumont, v. part ii. 106.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Jan.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. June 18.]

Algiers, and extorted from that government an illusory promise of respect to the English flag. From Algiers he proceeded[a] to Tunis. To his demands the dey replied: “There are Goletta, Porto Ferino, and my fleet; let him destroy them if he can.” Blake departed,[b] returned unexpectedly to Porto Ferino, silenced the fire of the castle, entered the harbour, and burnt the whole flotilla of nine men-of-war. This exploit induced the dey of Tripoli to purchase the forbearance of the English by an apparent submission; his Tunisian brother deemed it prudent to follow his example; and the chastisement of the pirates threw an additional lustre on the fame of the protector. There still remained, however, the great but concealed object of the expedition,–the capture of the Plate fleet laden with the treasures of the Indies; but Blake was compelled to remain so long before Cadiz that the Spaniards discovered his design; and Philip, though he professed to think the protector incapable of so dishonourable a project, permitted the merchants to arm in defence of their property. More than thirty ships were manned with volunteers: they sailed[c] from Cadiz under the command of Don Pablos de Contreras, and continued for some days in sight of the English fleet; but Pablos was careful to give no offence; and Blake, on the reperusal of his instructions, did not conceive himself authorized to begin the attack. After a long and tedious cruise, he received intelligence that the galleons, his destined prey, were detained in the harbour of Carthagena, and returned to England with a discontented mind and shattered constitution. In regard to the principal object, the expedition had failed; but this had never been avowed; and the people were taught to rejoice at the laurels won in the destruction

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. March 10.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. April 18.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. August 15.]

of the Tunisian fleet, and the lesson given to the piratical tribes on the northern coast of Africa.[1]

The other expedition consisted[a] of thirty sail and a military force of three thousand men, under the joint command of Penn, as admiral, and of Venables, as general. They spent several weeks among the English settlements in the West Indies, and by the promise of plunder allured to their standard many of the planters, and multitudes of the English, Scottish, and Irish royalists, who had been transported thither as prisoners of war. When they reached Hispaniola, Venables numbered ten thousand men under his command; and, had the fleet boldly entered the harbour of St. Domingo, it was believed that the town, unprepared for resistance, must have immediately submitted. But the greater part of the army was landed[b] at a point about forty miles distant, the expectations of the men were disappointed by a proclamation, declaring that the plunder was to be considered the public property of the commonwealth; the length of the march, the heat of the climate, and the scarcity of water added to the general discontent, and almost a fortnight elapsed before the invaders were able to approach[c] the defences of the place. Their march lay through a thick and lofty wood; and the advance suddenly found itself in front of a battery which enfiladed the road to a considerable distance. On the first discharge, the men rushed back on a regiment of foot; that, partaking in the panic, on a squadron of

[Footnote 1: See in particular Blake’s letters in Thurloe, iii. 232, 392, 541, 611, 620, 718; iv. 19. He complains bitterly of the bad state of the ships, and of the privations suffered by the men, from the neglect of the commissioners of the navy. The protector’s instructions to him are in Thurloe, i. 724.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. Jan. 29.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. April.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. April 25.]

horse; and, while the infantry and cavalry were thus wedged together in inextricable confusion, the Spanish marksmen kept up a most destructive fire from behind the trees lining the road. After a long effort, the wood was cleared by a body of seamen who served among the infantry, and darkness put an end to the action, in which not fewer than a thousand men had fallen. In the morning the English retired to their last encampment, about ten miles from the town.

Here Venables called a council of officers, who, having previously sought the Lord, determined[a] to “purge” the army. Some of the runaways were hanged; the officer who commanded the advance was broken, and sent on board the hospital ship to wait on the sick; the loose women who had followed the army were apprehended and punished; and a solemn fast was proclaimed and observed. But no fasting, praying, or purging could restore the spirits of men humbled by defeat, enfeebled by disease, and reduced to the necessity of feeding on the horses belonging to the cavalry. The attempt was abandoned;[b] but, on their return, the two commanders made a descent on the island of Jamaica. The Spanish settlers, about five hundred, fled to the mountains; a capitulation[c] followed; and the island was ceded to England. Could its flourishing condition in a subsequent period have been foreseen, this conquest might have consoled the nation for the loss at Hispaniola, and the disgrace of the attempt. But at that time Jamaica was deemed an inconsiderable acquisition; the failure of the expedition encouraged men to condemn the grounds on which it had been undertaken; and Cromwell, mortified and ashamed, vented his displeasure

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. April 28.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1654. May 3.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1654. May 10.]

on Penn and Venables, the two commanders, whom, on their arrival, he committed[a] to the Tower.[1]

To many it seemed a solecism in politics, that, when the protector determined to break with Spain, he did not attempt to sell his services to the great enemy of Spain, the king of France. For reasons which have never been explained, he took no advantage of this circumstance; instead of urging, he seemed anxious to retard, the conclusion of the treaty with that power; after each concession he brought forward new and more provoking demands; and, as if he sought to prevail by intimidation, commissioned Blake to ruin the French commerce, and to attack the French fleet in the Mediterranean. By Louis these insults were keenly felt; but his pride yielded to his interest; expedients were found to satisfy all the claims of the protector; and at length the time for the signature of the treaty was fixed, when an event occurred to furnish new pretexts for delay, that event, which by Protestants has been called the massacre, by Catholics the rebellion, of the Vaudois.

About the middle of the thirteenth century the peculiar doctrines of the "poor men of Lyons” penetrated

[Footnote 1: Carte’s Letters, ii. 46-52. Thurloe, iii. 504, 509, 689, 755; iv. 28. Bates, 367. Penn and Venables having resigned their commissions, were discharged.–Council Book, 1655, Oct. 26, 31. It appears from the papers in Thurloe that Cromwell paid great attention to the prosperity of the West Indian colonies, as affording facilities to future attempts on the American continent. To increase the population, he had, as the reader is already aware, forcibly taken up a thousand young girls in Ireland, and sent them to Jamaica; in 1656, while Sagredo was in London, he ordered all females of disorderly lives to be arrested and shipped for Barbadoes for the like purpose. Twelve hundred were sent in three ships. Ho veduto prima del mio partire piu squadre di soldati andar per Londra cercando donne di allegra vita, imbarcandone 1,200 sopre tre vascelli per tragittarle all’ isola, a fine di far propagazione.–Sagredro, MS.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. August 31.]

into the valleys of Piedmont, where they were cherished in obscurity till the time of the Reformation, and were then exchanged in a great measure, first for Lutheranism, and then for the creed publicly taught at Geneva. The duke of Savoy by successive grants confirmed to the natives the free exercise of their religion, on condition that they should confine themselves within their ancient limits;[1] but complaints were made that several among the men of Angrogna had abused their privileges to form settlements and establish their worship in the plains; and the court of Turin, wearied with the conflicting statements of the opposite parties, referred[a] the decision of the dispute to the civilian Andrea Gastaldo.[2] After a long and patient hearing, he pronounced a definitive judgment, that Lucerna and some other places lay without the original boundaries, and that the intruders should withdraw under the penalties of forfeiture and death. At the same time, however, permission was given to them to sell for their own profit the lands which they had planted, though by law these lands had become the property of the sovereign.[3]

The Vaudois were a race of hardy, stubborn, half-civilized mountaineers, whose passions were readily kindled, and whose resolves were as violent as they were sudden. At first they submitted sullenly to the

[Footnote 1: These were the four districts of Angrogna, Villaro, Bobbio, and Rorata.–Siri, del Mercurio, overo Historia de’ Correnti Tempi Firenze, 1682, tom. xv. p. 827.]

[Footnote 2: Gilles, Pastore de la Terre, p. 72, Geneve, 1644; and Rorengo, Memorie Historiche, p. 8, 1649.]

[Footnote 3: The decree of Gastaldo is in Morland, History of the Evangelical Churches in the valleys of Piedmont, p. 303. The grounds of that decree are at p. 408, the objections to it at p. 423. See also Siri, xv. 827, 830; Chiesa, Corona Reale di Savoia, i. 150; Denina, iii. 324; Guichenon, iii. 139.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655 June 19.]

judgment of Gastaldo, but sent deputies to Turin, to remonstrate; in a few days a solemn fast was proclaimed; the ministers excommunicated every individual who should sell his lands in the disputed territory; the natives of the valleys under the dominion of the king of France met those of the valleys belonging to the duke of Savoy; both bound themselves by oath to stand by each other in their common defence; and messengers were despatched to solicit aid and advice from the church of Geneva and the Protestant cantons of Switzerland. The intelligence alarmed the Marquess of Pianeze, the chief minister of the duke; who, to suppress the nascent confederacy, marched from Turin with an armed force, reduced La Torre, into which the insurgents had thrown a garrison of six hundred men, and, having made an offer of pardon to all who should submit, ordered his troops to fix their quarters in Bobbio, Villaro, and the lower part of Angrogna. It had previously been promised[a] that they should be peaceably received; but the inhabitants had already retired to the mountains with their cattle and provisions; and the soldiers found no other accommodation than the bare walls. Quarrels soon followed between the parties; one act of offence was retaliated with another; and the desire of vengeance provoked a war of extermination. But the military were in general successful; and the natives found themselves compelled to flee to the summits of the loftiest mountains, or to seek refuge in the valleys of Dauphiné, among a people of similar habits and religion.[1]

[Footnote 1: Siri, xv. 827-833. It would be a difficult task to determine by whom, after the reduction of La Torre, the first blood was wantonly drawn, or to which party the blame of superior cruelty really belongs. The authorities on each side are interested, and therefore suspicious; the provocations alleged by the one are as warmly denied by the other; and to the ravages of the military in Angrogna and Lucerna, are opposed the massacres of the Catholics in Perousa and San Martino. In favour of the Vaudois may be consulted Leger, Histoire Générale des Eglises Evangéliques, &c. (he was a principal instigator of these troubles); Stouppe, Collection of the several papers sent to his highness, &c. London, 1655; Sabaudiensis in Reformatam Religionem Persecutionis Brevis Narratio, Londini, 1655; Morland, 326-384, and the papers in Thurloe, iii. 361, 384, 412, 416, 430, 444, 459, 538. Against them–A Short and Faithful Account of the late Commotions &c., with some reflections on Mr. Stouppe’s Collected Papers, 1655; Morland, 387-404; Siri, xv. 827-843, and Thurloe, iii. 413, 464, 475, 490, 502, 535, 535, 617, 626, 656.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. April 7.]

Accounts of these transactions, but accounts teeming with exaggeration and improbabilities, were transmitted to the different Protestant states by the ministers at Geneva. They represented the duke of Savoy as a bigoted and intolerant prince; the Vaudois as an innocent race, whose only crime was their attachment to the reformed faith. They implored the Protestant powers to assume the defence of their persecuted brethren, and called for pecuniary contributions to save from destruction by famine the remnant which had escaped the edge of the sword.[1] In England the cause was advocated[a] by the press and from the pulpit; a solemn fast was kept, and the passions of the people were roused to enthusiasm. The ministers in a body waited on Cromwell to recommend the Vaudois to his protection; the armies in Scotland and Ireland presented addresses, expressive of their readiness to shed their blood in so sacred a cause; and all classes of men, from the highest to

[Footnote 1: The infidelity of these reports is acknowledged by Morland, the protector’s agent, in a confidential letter to secretary Thurloe. “The greatest difficulty I meet with is in relation to the matter of fact in the beginning of these troubles, and during the time of the war. For I find, upon diligent search, that many papers and books which have been put out in print on this subject, even by some ministers of the valleys, are lame in many particulars, and in many things not conformable to truth."–Thurloe, iv. 417.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. May.]

the lowest, hastened to contribute their money towards the support of the Piedmontese Protestants. It was observed that, among those who laboured to inflame the prejudices of the people, none were more active than the two ambassadors from Spain, and Stouppe, the minister of the French church in London.[1] Both had long laboured to prevent the conclusion of the treaty with France; and they now hoped to effect their purpose, because Savoy was the ally of France, and the principal barbarities were said to have been perpetrated by troops detached from the French army.[2]

These events opened a flattering prospect to the vanity of Cromwell. By his usurpation he had forfeited all claim to the title of the champion of civil liberty; he might still come forward, in the sight of Europe, in the more august character of the protector of the reformed faith. His first care was to make, through Stouppe, a promise to the Vaudois of his support, and an offer to transplant them to Ireland, and to settle them on the lands of the Irish Catholics; of which the first was accepted with expressions of gratitude, and the other respectfully declined.[3] He next solicited the king of France to join with him in mediating between the duke of Savoy and his subjects of the valleys; and received for answer, that

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iii. 470, 680. Siri, xv. 468.]

[Footnote 2: Under Pianeze were some troops detached from the French army commanded by Prince Thomas of Savoy. It was reported that a regiment of Irish Catholics formed a part of this detachment; and to them were attributed, of course, the most horrible barbarities.–Leger, iii. Stouppe, Preface. Thurloe, iii. 412, 459, 460. On inquiry, it was discovered that these supposed Irishmen were English. “The Irish regiment said to be there was the earl of Bristol’s regiment, a small and weak one, most of them being English. I hear not such complaints of them as you set forth."–Thurloe, iii. 50.]

[Footnote 3: Thurloe, iii. 459.]

Louis had already interposed his good offices, and had reason to expect a favourable result. Lastly, he sent[a] Morland as ambassador to Turin, where he was honourably received, and entertained at the duke’s expense. To his memorial in favour of the Vaudois, it was replied,[b] that out of compliment to Cromwell their rebellion, though unprovoked, should be forgiven; but his further interference was checked by the announcement that the particulars of the pacification had been wholly referred to Servien, the French ambassador.[1]

At home, Cromwell had signified his intention of postponing the signature of the treaty with France till he was acquainted with the opinion of Louis on the subject of the troubles in Piedmont. Bordeaux remonstrated[c] against this new pretext for delay; he maintained that the question bore no relation to the matter of the treaty; that the king of France would never interfere with the internal administration of an independent state; that the duke of Savoy had as good a right to make laws for his Protestant subjects, as the English government for the Catholics of the three kingdoms; and that the Vaudois were in reality rebels who had justly incurred the resentment of their sovereign. But Cromwell was not to be diverted[d] from his purpose. It was in vain that the ambassador asked for a final answer; that he demanded[e] an audience of leave preparatory to his departure. At last he was relieved from his perplexity by an order[f] to announce that the duke, at the request of the king of France, had granted an amnesty to the Vaudois, and confirmed their ancient privileges; that the boon had been gratefully received by the insurgents; and that

[Footnote 1: Thurloe iii. 528, 608, 636, 656, 672. Siri, ibid. Vaugh. 248.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. May 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. June 21.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. May 24.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. June 18.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1656. June 21. [Sidenote f: A.D. 1656. August 20.]

the natives of the valleys, Protestants and Catholics had met, embraced each other with tears, and sworn to live in perpetual amity together. The unexpected intelligence was received by Cromwell with a coldness which betrayed his disappointment.[1] But, if the pacification broke the new projects which he meditated,[2] it served to raise his fame in the estimation of Europe; for it was evident that the Vaudois owed the favourable conditions which they obtained,[a] not so much to the good-will of Louis, as to his anxiety that no pretext should remain for the future interference of the protector.[3]

But though tranquillity was restored in Piedmont, Cromwell was still unwilling to conclude the treaty till he had ascertained what impression had been made on the king of Spain by the late attempt on Hispaniola. To Philip, already engaged in war with France, it was painful to add so powerful an adversary to the number

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iii. 469, 470, 475, 535, 568, 706, 724, 742, 745. Siri, xv. 843.]

[Footnote 2: The Protestant cantons of Switzerland had sent Colonel Mey to England, offering to raise an army in aid of the Vaudois, if Cromwell would furnish a subsidy of ten thousand pounds per month.–Siri, Mercurio, xv. 472. In consequence Downing was despatched as envoy to these cantons; but the pacification was already concluded; and on his arrival at Geneva, he received orders, dated Aug. 30, to return immediately.–Thurloe, iii. 692, 694; iv. 31. Still the design was not abandoned, but intrusted to Morland, who remained at Geneva, to distribute the money from England. What were his secret instructions may be seen, ibid. p. 326.]

[Footnote 3: The conditions may be seen in Morland, 652; Dumont, vi. part ii. p. 114; and Leger, 216. The subscription for the Vaudois, of which two thousands pounds was given by the protector, amounted to thirty eight thousand two hundred and twenty-eight pounds four shillings and twopence. Of this sum twenty-five thousand eight hundred and twenty-eight pounds eight shillings and ninepence was sent at different times to the valleys; four hundred and sixty-three pounds seventeen shillings was charged for expenses; and about five hundred pounds was found to be clipt or counterfeit money.–Journals, 11 July, 1559.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. August 8.]

of his enemies; but the affront was so marked, so unjust, so unprovoked, that to submit to it in silence was to subscribe to his own degradation. He complained,[a] in dignified language, of the ingratitude and injustice of the English government; contrasted with its conduct his own most scrupulous adhesion both to the letter and the spirit of the treaties between the kingdoms; ordered that all ships, merchandize, and property belonging to the subjects of the commonwealth should be seized and secured in every part of his dominions, and instructed his ambassador in London to remonstrate and take his leave.[1] The day after the passport was delivered to Don Alonzo, Cromwell consented[b] to the signature of the treaty with France. It provided that the maritime hostilities, which had so long harassed the trade of the two nations, should cease, that the relations of amity and commerce should be restored; and, by a separate, and therefore called a secret, article, that Barriere, agent for the prince of Condé, and nine other Frenchmen, equally obnoxious to the French ministry, should be perpetually excluded from the territory of the commonwealth; and that Charles Stuart, his brother the duke of York, Ormond, Hyde, and fifteen other adherents of the exiled prince, should, in the same manner, be excluded from the kingdom of France.[2] The protector had persuaded

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iv. 19, 20, 21, 82, 91.]

[Footnote 2: Dumont, vi. part ii. p. 121. In the body of the treaty, neither the king nor the protector is named; all the articles are stipulated between the commonwealth of England and the kingdom of France. In the preamble, however, the king of France is mentioned, and in the first place, but not as if this arose from any claim of precedency; for it merely relates, that the most Christian king sent his ambassador to England, and the most serene lord, the protector, appointed commissioners to meet him. When the treaty was submitted to Bordeaux, previously to his signature, he discovered an alteration in the usual title of his sovereign, Rex Gallorum (the very title afterwards adopted by the National Assembly), instead of Rex Galliarum, and on that account refused to sign it. After a long contestation, he yielded to the arguments of the Dutch ambassador.–Thurloe, iv. 115.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Sept. 1.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Oct. 24.]

himself that, if the house of Stuart was to be restored, it must be through the aid of France; and he hoped, by the addition of this secret article, to create a bitter and lasting enmity between the two families. Nor was he content with this. As soon as the ratifications had been exchanged, he proposed a more intimate alliance between England and France. Bordeaux was instructed to confine himself in his reply to general expressions of friendship. He might receive any communications which were offered; he was to make no advances on the part of his sovereign.

Chapter VII.

Poverty And Character Of Charles Stuart–War With Spain–Parliament–Exclusion Of Members–Punishment Of Naylor–Proposal To Make Cromwell King–His Hesitation And Refusal–New Constitution–Sindercomb–Sexby–Alliance With France–Parliament Of Two Houses–Opposition In The Commons–Dissolution–Reduction Of Dunkirk–Sickness Of The Protector–His Death And Character.

The reader is aware that the young king of Scots, after his escape from Worcester, had returned to Paris, defeated but not disgraced. The spirit and courage which he had displayed were taken as an earnest of future and more successful efforts; and the perilous adventures which he had encountered threw a romantic interest round the character of the royal exile. But in Paris he found himself without money or credit, followed by a crowd of faithful dependants, whose indigence condemned them to suffer the most painful privations. His mother, Henrietta, herself in no very opulent circumstances, received him into her house and to her table; after the lapse of six months, the French king settled on him a monthly allowance of six thousand francs;[1] and to this were added the casual supplies furnished by the loyalty of his adherents in England, and his share of the prizes made by the cruisers under his flag.[2] Yet, with all these aids, he

[Footnote 1: Clar. iii. 441. Thirteen francs were equivalent to an English pound.]

[Footnote 2: His claim was one-fifteenth, that of the duke of York, as admiral, one-tenth. See a collection of letters, almost exclusively on that subject, between Sir Edward Hyde and Sir Richard Browne.–Evelyn’s Mem. v. 241, et seq.]

was scarcely able to satisfy the more importunate of his creditors, and to dole out an occasional pittance to his more immediate followers. From their private correspondence it appears that the most favoured among them were at a loss to procure food and clothing.[1]

Yet, poor as he was, Charles had been advised to keep up the name and appearance of a court. He had his lord-keeper, his chancellor of the exchequer, his privy councillors, and most of the officers allotted to a royal establishment; and the eagerness of pursuit, the competition of intrigue with which these nominal dignities were sought by the exiles, furnish scenes which cannot fail to excite the smile or the pity of an indifferent spectator. But we should remember that they were the only objects left open to the ambition of these men; that they offered scanty, yet desirable, salaries to their poverty; and that they held out the promise of more substantial benefits on the restoration of the king, an event which, however distant it might seem to the apprehension of others, was always near in the belief of the more ardent royalists.[2]

Among these competitors for place were two, who soon acquired, and long retained, the royal confidence,

[Footnote 1: Clarendon Pap. iii. 120, 124. “I do not know that any man is yet dead for want of bread; which really I wonder at. I am sure the king owes for all he hath eaten since April: and I am not acquainted with one servant of his who hath a pistole in his pocket. Five or six of us eat together one meal a day for a pistole a week; but all of us owe for God knows how many weeks to the poor woman that feeds us."–Clarendon Papers, iii. 174. June 27, 1653. “I want shoes and shirts, and the marquess of Ormond is in no better condition. What help then can we give our friends?"–Ibid. 229, April 3, 1654. See also Carte’s Letters, ii. 461.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon Pap. iii. 83, 99, 106, 136, 162, 179, 187, et passim. Clarendon, History, iii. 434, 435, 453.]

the marquess of Ormond and Sir Edward Hyde. Ormond owed the distinction to the lustre of his family, the princely fortune which he had lost in the royal cause, his long though unsuccessful services in Ireland, and the high estimation in which he had been held by the late monarch. In talent and application Hyde was superior to any of his colleagues. Charles I. had appointed him chancellor of the exchequer, and counsellor to the young prince; and the son afterwards confirmed by his own choice the judgment of his father. Hyde had many enemies; whether it was that by his hasty and imperious temper he gave cause of offence, or that unsuccessful suitors, aware of his influence with the king, attributed to his counsels the failure of their petitions. But he was not wanting in his own defences; the intrigues set on foot to remove him from the royal ear were defeated by his address; and the charges brought against him of disaffection and treachery were so victoriously refuted, as to overwhelm the accuser with confusion and disgrace.[1]

The expectations, however, which Charles had raised by his conduct in England were soon disappointed. He seemed to lose sight of his three kingdoms amidst the gaieties of Paris. His pleasures and amusements engrossed his attention; it was with difficulty that he could be drawn to the consideration of business; and, if he promised to devote a few hours on each Friday to the writing of letters and the signature of despatches, he often discovered sufficient reasons to free himself from the burthen.[2] But that which chiefly distressed

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, iii. 138, 510, 515-520. Lansdowne’s Works, ii. 236-241, quoted by Harris, iv. 153. Clarendon Papers, iii. 84, 92 138, 188, 200, 229.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon Papers, iii. 159, 170.]

his advisers was the number and publicity of his amours; and, in particular, the utter worthlessness of one woman, who by her arts had won his affection, and by her impudence exercised the control over his easy temper. This was Lucy Walters, or Barlow, the mother of a child, afterwards the celebrated duke of Monmouth, of whom Charles believed himself to be the father.[1] Ormond and Hyde laboured to dissolve this disgraceful connection. They represented to the king the injury which it did to the royal cause in England, where the appearances at least of morality were so highly respected; and, after several temporary separations, they prevailed on Walters to accept[a] an annuity of four hundred pounds, and to repair with her child to her native country. But Cromwell sent her back to France; and she returned[b] to Paris, where by her lewdness she forfeited the royal favour, and shortened her own days. Her son was taken from her by the Lord Crofts, and placed under the care of the Oratoriens in Paris.[2]

But if Charles was incorrigible in the pursuit of pleasure, he proved a docile pupil on the subject of

[Footnote 1: She was previously the mistress of Colonel Robert Sydney; and her son bore so great a resemblance to that officer, that the duke of York always looked upon Sydney as the father.–Life of James, i. 491. James in his instructions to his son, says, “All the knowing world, as well as myself, had many convincing reasons to think he was not the king’s son, but Robert Sydney’s."–Macpherson’s Papers, i. 77. Evelyn calls Barlow “a browne, beautiful, bold, but insipid creature."–Diary, ii. 11.]

[Footnote 2: James, i. 492; Clarendon’s Own Life, 205. Clarendon Papers, iii. 180. Thurloe, v. 169, 178; vii. 325. Charles, in the time of his exile, had also children by Catherine Peg and Elizabeth Killigrew.–See Sanford, 646, 647. In the account of Barlow’s discharge from the Tower, by Whitelock, we are told that she called herself the wife of Charles (Whitelock, 649); in the Mercurius Politicus, she is styled “his wife or mistress."–Ellis, new series, iii. 352.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Jan. 21.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. July 16.]

religion. On one hand, the Catholics, on the other, the Presbyterians, urged him by letters and messages to embrace their respective modes of worship. The former maintained that he could recover the crown only through the aid of the Catholic sovereigns, and had no reason to expect such aid while he professed himself a member of that church which had so long persecuted the English Catholics.[1] The others represented themselves as holding the destiny of the king in their hands; they were royalists at heart, but how could they declare in favour of a prince who had apostatized from the covenant which he had taken in Scotland, and whose restoration would probably re-establish the tyranny of the bishops?[2] The king’s advisers repelled these attempts with warmth and indignation. They observed to him that, to become a Catholic was to arm all his Protestant subjects against him; to become a Presbyterian, was to alienate all who had been faithful to his father, both Protestants of the

[Footnote 1: Yet he made application in 1654 to the pope, through Goswin Nickel, general of the order of Jesuits, for a large sum of money, which might enable him to contend for his kingdom at the head of an army of Irish Catholics; promising, in case of success, to grant the free exercise of the Catholic religion, and every other indulgence which could be reasonably asked. The reason alleged for this application was that the power of Cromwell was drawing to a close, and the most tempting offers had been made to Charles by the Presbyterians: but the Presbyterians were the most cruel enemies of the Catholics, and he would not owe his restoration to them, till he had sought and been refused the aid of the Catholic powers. From the original, dated at Cologne, 17th Nov. 1654, N.S., and subscribed by Peter Talbot, afterwards Catholic archbishop of Dublin, ex mandato expresso Regis Britanniarum. It was plainly a scheme on the part of Charles to procure money; and probably failed of success.]

[Footnote 2: Both these parties were equally desirous of having the young duke of Gloucester of their religion.–Clar. Pap. iii. 153, 155. The queen mother placed him under the care of Montague, her almoner at Pontoise; but Charles sent Ormond, who brought him away to Cologne.–Clar. Hist. iii. 545: Papers, iii. 256-260. Evelyn, v. 205, 208.]

church of England and Catholics. He faithfully followed their advice; to both parties he promised, indeed, every indulgence in point of religion which they could reasonably desire; but avowed, at the same time, his determination to live and die a member of that church in defence of which his father had fought and suffered. It is not, however, improbable that these applications, with the arguments by which they were supported, had a baneful influence on the mind of the king. They created in him an indifference to religious truth, a persuasion that men always model their belief according to their interest.[1]

As soon as Cardinal Mazarin began to negotiate with the protector, the friends of Charles persuaded him to quit the French territory. By the French minister the proposal was gratefully received; he promised the royal fugitive the continuation of his pension, ordered the arrears to be immediately discharged, and paid him for the next half-year in advance.[2] Charles fixed[a] his residence at Cologne, where he remained for almost two years, till the rupture between England and Spain called him again into activity.[3] After some previous negotiation, he repaired

[Footnote 1: Clarendon Papers, iii. 163, 164, 256, 281, 298, 316; Hist. iii. 443]

[Footnote 2: Seven thousand two hundred pistoles for twelve months’ arrears, and three thousand six hundred for six in advance.–Clar. Pap. iii. 293.]

[Footnote 3: While Charles was at Cologne, he was surrounded by spies, who supplied Cromwell with copious information, though it is probable that they knew little more than the public reports in the town. On one occasion the letters were opened at the post-office, and a despatch was found from a person named Manning to Thurloe. Being questioned before Charles, Manning confessed that he received an ample maintenance from the protector, but defended himself on the ground that he was careful to communicate nothing but what was false. That this plea was true, appeared from his despatch, which was filled with a detailed account of a fictitious debate in the council: but the falsehoods which he had sent to England had occasioned the arrest and imprisonment of several royalists, and Manning was shot as a traitor at Duynwald, in the territory of the duke of Neuburg.–Clar. iii. 563-569. Whitelock, 633. Thurloe, iv. 293.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. March 12.]

to the neighbourhood of Brussels, and offered himself as a valuable ally to the Spanish monarch. He had it in his power to call the English and Irish regiments in the French service to his own standard; he possessed numerous adherents in the English navy; and, with the aid of money and ships, he should be able to contend once more for the crown of his fathers, and to meet the usurper on equal terms on English ground. By the Spanish ministers the proposal was entertained, but with their accustomed slowness. They had to consult the cabinet at Madrid; they were unwilling to commit themselves so far as to cut off all hope of reconciliation with the protector; and they had already accepted the offers of another enemy to Cromwell, whose aid, in the opinion of Don Alonzo, the late ambassador, was preferable to that of the exiled king.[1]

This enemy was Colonel Sexby. He had risen from the ranks to the office of adjutant-general in the parliamentary army; and his contempt of danger and enthusiasm for liberty had so far recommended him to the notice of Cromwell, that the adjutant was occasionally honoured with a place in the councils, and a share in the bed, of the lord-general. But Sexby had attached himself to the cause, not to the man; and his admiration, as soon as Cromwell apostatized from his former principles, was converted into the most deadly hatred. On the expulsion of the long parliament, he joined Wildman and the Levellers: Wildman was apprehended; but Sexby eluded the vigilance of the

[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 275, 279, 286.]

pursuivants, and traversed the country in disguise, everywhere distributing pamphlets, and raising up enemies to the protector. In the month of May, 1655, he repaired to the court at Brussels. To the archduke and the count of Fuensaldagna, he revealed[a] the real object of the secret expedition under Venables and Penn; and offered the aid of the English Levellers for the destruction of a man, the common enemy of the liberties of his country and of the rights of Spain. They were a numerous and determined band of patriots; they asked no other aid than money and the co-operation of the English and Irish troops in the Spanish service; and they were ready, for security, to deliver a strong maritime fortress into the hands of their allies. Fuensaldagna hesitated to give a positive answer before an actual rupture had taken place; and at his recommendation Sexby proceeded to Madrid. At first he was received with coldness; but the news from Hispaniola established his credit; the value of his information was now acknowledged; he obtained the sum of forty thousand crowns for the use of his party, and an assurance was given that, as soon as they should be in possession of the port which he had named, six thousand men should sail[b] from Flanders to their assistance. Sexby returned to Antwerp, transmitted several large sums to his adherents, and, though Cromwell at length obtained information of the intrigue, though the last remittance of eight hundred pounds had been seized, the intrepid Leveller crossed over[c] to England, made his arrangements with his associates, and returned[d] in safety to the continent.[1]

[Footnote 1: Clarend. Pap. iii. 271, 272, 274, 277, 281, 285. Thurloe, iv. 698; v. 37, 100, 319, 349; vi. 829-833. Carte’s Letters, ii. 85, 103.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1655. June.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Jan.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. June.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. August.]

It now became the object of the Spanish ministers, who had, at last, accepted[a] the offer of Charles, to effect an union between him and Sexby, that, by the co-operation of the Levellers with the royalists, the common enemy might more easily be subdued. Sexby declared[b] that he had no objection to a limited monarchy, provided it were settled by a free parliament. He believed that his friends would have none; but he advised that, at the commencement of the attempt, the royalists should make no mention of the king, but put forth as their object the destruction of the usurper and the restoration of public liberty. Charles, on the other hand, was willing to make use of the services of Sexby; but he did not believe that his means were equal to his professions, and he saw reason to infer, from the advice which he had given, that his associates were enemies to royalty.[1]

The negotiation between the king and the Spanish ministers began to alarm both Cromwell and Mazarin. The cardinal anticipated the defection of the British and Irish regiments in the French service; the protector foresaw that they would probably be employed in a descent upon England. It was resolved to place the duke of York in opposition to his brother. That young prince had served with his regiment during four campaigns, under the Marshal Turenne; his pay as colonel, and his pension of six thousand pistoles, amply provided for his wants; and his bravery in the field had gained him the esteem of the general, and rendered him the idol of his countrymen. Instead of banishing him, according to the secret article, from France, Mazarin, with the concurrence of Cromwell, offered him the appointment of captain-general in the

[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 303, 311, 313, 315-317.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. July 27.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 14.]

army of Italy. By James it was accepted with gratitude and enthusiasm; but Charles commanded him to resign the office, and to repair immediately to Bruges. He obeyed; his departure[a] was followed by the resignation of most of the British and Irish officers in the French army; and, in many instances, the men followed the example of their leaders. Defeated in this instance, Cromwell and Mazarin had recourse to another intrigue, of which the secret springs are concealed from our sight. It was insinuated by some pretended friend to Don Juan, the new governor of the Netherlands, that little reliance was to be placed on James, who was sincerely attached to France, and governed by Sir John Berkeley, the secret agent of the French court, and the known enemy of Hyde and his party. In consequence, the real command of the royal forces was given to Marsin, a foreigner; an oath of fidelity to Spain was, with the consent of Charles, exacted[b] from the officers and soldiers; and in a few days James was first requested and then commanded[c] by his brother to dismiss Berkeley. The young prince did not refuse; but he immediately followed[d] Berkeley into Holland with the intention of passing through Germany into France. His departure was hailed with joy by Cromwell, who wrote a congratulatory letter to Mazarin on the success of this intrigue; it was an object of dismay to Charles, who by messengers entreated and commanded[e] James to return. At Breda, the prince appeared to hesitate. He soon afterwards retraced his steps to Bruges, on a promise that the past should be forgotten; Berkeley followed; and the triumph of the fugitives was completed by the elevation of the obnoxious favourite to the peerage.[1]

[Footnote 1: Of the flight of James, Clarendon makes no mention in his History. He even seeks to persuade his reader that the duke was compelled to leave France in consequence of the secret article (iii. 610, 614; Papers, iii. Supplement, lxxix), though it is plain from the Memoirs of James, that he left unwillingly, in obedience to the absolute command of his brother.–James, i. 270. Clarendon makes the enmity between himself and Berkeley arise from his opposition to Berkeley’s claim to the mastership of the Court of Wards (Hist. 440; Papers, Ibid.); James, from Clarendon’s advice to Lady Morton to reject Berkeley’s proposal of marriage.–James, i. 273. That the removal of Berkeley originated with Mazarin and was required by Fuensaldagna, who employed Lord Bristol and Bennet for that purpose, appears from Cromwell’s letter to the cardinal (Thurloe, v. 736); Bristol’s letter to the king (Clar. Papers, iii. 318), and Clarendon’s account of Berkeley (ibid. Supplement, lxxix). See also ibid. 317-324; and the Memoirs of James, i. 366-293.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Sept. 1.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 5.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. Dec. 13.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. Dec. 16.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1657. Jan. 13.]

We may now return to England, where the Spanish war had excited general discontent. By the friends of the commonwealth Spain was considered as their most ancient and faithful ally; the merchants complained that the trade with that country, one of the most lucrative branches of British commerce, was taken out of their hands and given to their rivals in Holland; and the saints believed that the failure of the expedition to Hispaniola was a sufficient proof that Heaven condemned this breach of the amity between the two states. It was to little purpose that Cromwell, to vindicate his conduct, published a manifesto, in which, having enumerated many real or pretended injuries and barbarities inflicted on Englishmen by the Spaniards in the West Indies, he contended that the war was just, and honourable, and necessary. His enemies, royalists, Levellers, Anabaptists, and republicans, of every description, did not suffer the clamour against him to subside; and, to his surprise, a request was made[a] by some of the captains of another fleet collected at Portsmouth, to be informed of the object of the expedition. If it were destined against Spain, their consciences would compel them to decline the

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 2.]

service. Spain was not the offending party; for the instances of aggression enumerated in the manifesto[a] were well known to have been no more than acts of self-defence against the depredations and encroachments of English adventurers.[1] To suppress this dangerous spirit, Desborough hastened to Portsmouth: some of the officers resigned their commissions, others were superseded, and the fleet at length sailed[b] under the joint command of Blake and Montague, of whom the latter possessed the protector’s confidence, and was probably employed as a spy on the conduct of his colleague. Their destination in the first place was Cadiz, to destroy the shipping in the harbour, and to make an attempt on that city, or the rock of Gibraltar. On their arrival,[c] they called a council of war; but no pilot could be found hardy or confident enough to guide the fleet through the winding channel of the Caraccas; and the defences of both Cadiz and Gibraltar presented too formidable an aspect to allow a hope of success without the co-operation of a military force.[2] Abandoning the attempt, the two admirals proceeded[d] to Lisbon, and extorted from the king of Portugal the ratification of the treaty formerly concluded by his ambassador, with the payment of the stipulated sum of fifty thousand pounds. Thence they returned[e] to Cadiz, passed the straits, insulted the Spaniards in Malaga, the Moors in Sallee, and after a fruitless cruise of more than two mouths, anchored[f] a second time in the Tagus.[3] It happened, that just after their arrival Captain Stayner, with a squadron of frigates, fell in[g] with a Spanish fleet of eight sail from America. Of

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iv. 571. See also 582, 589, 594. Carte’s Letters, ii. 87, 90, 92, 95.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, v. 67, 133.]

[Footnote 3: Ibid. i. 726-730; v. 68, 113, 257, 286. Vaughan, i. 446.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 5.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. March 15.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. April 15.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1657. May 29.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1657. June 10.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1657. July 10.] [Sidenote g: A.D. 1657. Sept. 10.]

these he destroyed four, and captured two, one of which was laden, with treasure. Montague, who came home with the prize, valued it in his despatch at two hundred thousand pounds; the public prints at two millions of ducats; and the friends of Cromwell hailed the event “as a renewed testimony of God’s presence, and some witness of his acceptance of the engagement against Spain."[1]

The equipment of this fleet had exhausted the treasury, and the protector dared not impose additional taxes on the country at a time when his right to levy the ordinary revenue was disputed in the courts of law. On the ground that the parliamentary grants were expired, Sir Peter Wentworth had refused to pay the assessment in the country, and Coney, a merchant, the duties on imports in London. The commissioners imposed fines, and distrained; the aggrieved brought actions against the collectors. Cromwell, indeed, was able to suppress these proceedings by imprisoning the counsel and intimidating their clients; but the example was dangerous; the want of money daily increased; and, by the advice of the council, he consented to call a parliament to meet on the 17th of September.[2]

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, 399, 433, 509, 524. Carte’s Letters, ii. 114. It appears from a letter of Colonel White, that the silver in pigs weighed something more than forty thousand pounds, to which were to be added some chests of wrought plate.–Thurloe, 542. Thurloe himself says all was plundered to about two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, or three hundred thousand pounds sterling (557). The ducat was worth nine shillings.]

[Footnote 2: Carte’s Letters, ii. 96, 103, 109. Ludlow, ii. 80-82. Clar. Hist. iii. 649. See also A Narrative of the Proceedings in the case of Mr. G. Coney, by S. Selwood, gent., 1655. The Jews had offered Cromwell a considerable sum for permission to settle and trade in England. Commissioners were appointed to confer with their agent Manasseh Ben Israel, and a council of divines was consulted respecting the lawfulness of the project. The opposition of the merchants and theologians induced him to pause; but Mr. Ellis has shown that he afterwards took them silently under his protection.–Council Book, 14th Nov., 1655. Thurloe, iv. 321, 388. Bates, 371. Ellis, iv. 2. Marten had made an ineffectual attempt in their favour at the commencement of the commonwealth.–Wood’s Athen. Ox. iii. 1239.]

The result of the elections revealed to him the alarming secret, that the antipathy to his government was more deeply rooted, and more widely spread, than he had previously imagined. In Scotland and Ireland, indeed, the electors obsequiously chose the members recommended by the council; but these were conquered countries, bending under the yoke of military despotism. In England, the whole nation was in a ferment; pamphlets were clandestinely circulated,[a] calling on the electors to make a last struggle in defence of their liberties; and though Vane, Ludlow, and Rich were taken into custody;[1] though other republican leaders were excluded by criminal prosecutions, though the Cavaliers, the Catholics, and all who had neglected to aid the cause of the parliament, were disqualified from voting by “the instrument;” though a military force was employed in London to overawe the proceedings, and the whole influence of the government and of the army was openly exerted in the country, yet in several counties the court candidates were wholly, and in most, partially, rejected. But Cromwell was aware of the error which he had committed in the last parliament. He resolved that none of his avowed opponents should be allowed to take possession of their seats. The returns were laid before the council; the majors-general received orders to inquire into the political and religious characters of the elected; the reports of these officers

[Footnote 1: The proceedings on these occasions may be seen in Ludlow, ii. 115-123; and State Trials, v. 791.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. August 20.]

were carefully examined; and a list was made of nearly one hundred persons to be excluded under the pretext of immorality or delinquency.[1]

On the appointed day,[a] the protector, after divine service, addressed the new “representatives” in the Painted Chamber. His real object was to procure money; and with this view he sought to excite their alarm, and to inflame their religious antipathies. He enumerated the enemies of the nation. The first was the Spaniard, the natural adversary of England, because he was the slave of the pope, a child of darkness, and consequently hostile to the light, blinded by superstition, and anxious to put down the things of God; one with whom it was impossible to be at peace, and to whom, in relation to this country, might be applied the words of Scripture, “I will put enmity between thy seed and her seed.” There was also Charles Stuart, who, with the aid of the Spaniard and the duke of Neuburg, had raised a formidable army for the invasion of the island. There were the papists and Cavaliers, who had already risen, and were again ready to rise in favour of Charles Stuart. There were the Levellers, who had sent an agent to the court of Madrid, and the Fifth-monarchy-men, who sought an union with the Levellers against him, “a reconciliation between Herod and Pilate, that Christ might be put to death.” The remedies–though in this part of his speech he digressed so frequently as to appear loth to come to the remedies–were, to prosecute the war abroad, and strengthen the hands of the government at home; to lose no time in questions of inferior moment, or less urgent necessity, but to inquire into the state of the revenue, and to raise ample supplies.

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, v. 269, 317, 328, 329, 337, 341, 343, 349, 424.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Sept 17.]

In conclusion, he explained the eighty-fifth psalm, exclaiming, “If pope and Spaniard, and devil, and all set themselves against us, though they should compass us about like bees, yet in the name of the Lord we shall destroy them. The Lord of Hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge."[1]

From the Painted Chamber the members proceeded to the house. A military guard was stationed at the door, and a certificate from the council was required from each individual previously to his admission.[2] The excluded members complained by letter of this breach of parliamentary privilege. A strong feeling of disapprobation was manifested in several parts of the house; the clerk of the commonwealth in Chancery received orders to lay all the returns on the table; and the council was requested to state the grounds of this novel and partial proceeding. Fiennes, one of the commissioners of the great seal, replied, that the duty of inquiry into the qualifications of the members was, by the “instrument,” vested in the lords of the council, who had discharged that trust according to the best of their judgment. An animated debate followed that such was the provision in "the instrument” could not be denied;[3] but that the council

[Footnote 1: Introduction to Burton’s Diary, cxlviii-clxxix. Journals, Sept. 17. Thurloe, v. 427. That the king’s army, which Cromwell exaggerated to the amount of eight thousand men, did not reach to more than one thousand, is twice asserted by Thurloe himself, 605, 672.]

[Footnote 2: The certificates which had been distributed to the favoured members were in this form:–"Sept. 17, 1656. County of ––. These are to certify that A.B. is returned by indenture one of the knights to serve in this parliament for the said county, and is approved by his highness’s council. Nath. Taylor. clerk of the commonwealth in Chancery."]

[Footnote 3: In the draught of the “instrument,” as it was amended in the last parliament, the jurisdiction of the council in this matter was confined to the charge of delinquency, and its decision was not final, but subject to the approbation of the house.–Journals, 1654, Nov. 29. But that draught had not received the protector’s assent.]

should decide on secret information, and without the knowledge of the individuals who were interested, seemed contrary to the first principles of justice. The court, however, could now command the votes of the majority, and a motion that the house should pass to the business of the nation was carried by dint of numbers. Several members, to show their disapprobation, voluntarily seceded, and those, who had been excluded by force, published[a] in bold and indignant language an appeal to the justice of the people.[1]

Having weeded out his enemies, Cromwell had no reason to fear opposition to his pleasure. The house passed a resolution declaratory of the justice and policy of the war against Spain, and two acts, by one of which were annulled all claims of Charles Stuart and his family to the crown, by the other were provided additional safeguards for the person of the chief governor. With the same unanimity, a supply of four hundred thousand pounds was voted; but when the means of raising the money came under consideration, a great diversity of opinion prevailed. Some proposed to inquire into the conduct of the treasury, some to adopt improvements in the collection of the revenue, others recommended an augmentation of the excise, and others a more economical system of expenditure. In the discussion of these questions and of private bills, week after week, month after month, was tediously

[Footnote 1: The nature of the charges against the members may be seen in Thurloe, v. 371, 383. In the Journals, seventy-nine names only are mentioned (Journals, 1656, Sept. 19), but ninety-eight are affixed to the appeal in Whitelock, 651-653. In both lists occur the names of Anthony Ashley Cooper, who afterwards became Cromwell’s intimate adviser, and of several others who subsequently solicited and obtained certificates.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Sept. 22.]

and fruitlessly consumed; though the time limited by the instrument was past, still the money bill had made no progress; and, to add to the impatience of Cromwell, a new subject was accidentally introduced, which, as it strongly interested the passions, absorbed for some time the attention of the house.[1]

At the age of nineteen, George Fox, the son of a weaver of Drayton, with a mind open to religious impressions, had accompanied some of his friends to a neighbouring fair. The noise, the revelry, and the dissipation which he witnessed, led him to thoughts of seriousness and self-reproach; and the enthusiast heard, or persuaded himself that he heard, an inward voice, calling on him to forsake his parents’ house, and to make himself a stranger in his own country. Docile to the celestial admonition, he began to lead a solitary life, wandering from place to place, and clothed from head to foot in garments of leather. He read the Scriptures attentively, studied the mysterious visions in the Apocalypse, and was instructed in the real meaning by Christ and the Spirit. At first, doubts and fears haunted his mind, but, when the time of trial was past, he found himself inebriated with spiritual delights, and received an assurance that his name was written in the Lamb’s Book of Life. At the same time, he was forbidden by the Lord to employ the plural pronoun you in addressing a single person, to bid his neighbour good even or good-morrow, or to uncover the head, or scrape with the leg to any mortal being. At length, the Spirit moved him to

[Footnote 1: Journals, passim; Thurloe, v. 472, 494, 524, 584, 672, 694. See note (H).]

impart to others the heavenly doctrines which he had learned. In 1647, he preached for the first time at Duckenfield, not far from Manchester; but the most fruitful scene of his labours was at Swarthmoor, near Ulverston. His disciples followed his example; the word of the Spirit was given to women as well as men; and the preachers of both sexes, as well as many of their followers, attracted the notice and the censures of the civil magistrate. Their refusal to uncover before the bench was usually punished with a fine, on the ground of contempt; their religious objection to take an oath, or to pay tithes, exposed them to protracted periods of imprisonment; and they were often and severely whipped as vagrants, because, for the purpose of preaching, they were accustomed to wander through the country. To these sufferings, as is always the case with persecuted sects, calumny was added; and they were falsely charged with denying the Trinity, with disowning the authority of government, and with attempting to debauch the fidelity of the soldiers. Still, in defiance of punishment and calumny, the Quakers, so they were called, persevered in their profession; it was their duty, they maintained, to obey the influence of the Holy Spirit; and they submitted with the most edifying resignation to the consequences, however painful they might be to flesh and blood.[1]

Of the severities so wantonly exercised against these religionists it is difficult to speak with temper; yet it must be confessed that their doctrine of spiritual impulses was likely to lead its disciples of either sex, whose minds were weak and imaginations active, to extravagances at the same time ludicrous and

[Footnote 1: Fox, Journal, i. 29, et seq.; Sewel, i. 24, 31, 34, passim.]

revolting.[1] Of this, James Naylor furnished a striking instance. He had served in the army, and had been quarter-master in Lambert’s troop, from which office he was discharged on account of sickness.[2] He afterwards became a disciple of George Fox, and a leading preacher in the capital; but he “despised the power of God” in his master, by whom he was reprimanded, and listened to the delusive flattery of some among his female hearers, who were so captivated with his manner and appearance; as to persuade themselves that Christ was incorporated in the new apostle. It was not for him to gainsay what the Spirit had revealed to them. He believed himself to be set as a sign of the coming of Christ; and he accepted the worship which was paid to him, not as offered to James Naylor, but to Christ dwelling in James Naylor. Under this impression, during part of his progress to Bristol,[a] and at his entrance into that city, he rode on horseback with a man walking bareheaded before him; two females holding his bridle on each side, and others attending him, one of whom, Dorcas Erbury, maintained that he had raised her to life after she had

[Footnote 1: “William Simpson was moved of the Lord to go at several times, for three years, naked and barefoot before them, as a sign unto them in markets, courts, towns, cities, to priests’ houses, and to great men’s houses; so shall they all be stripped naked as he was stripped naked. And sometimes he was moved to put on hair sackcloth, and to besmear his face, and to tell them so would the Lord besmear all their religion, as he was besmeared. Great sufferings did that poor man undergo, sore whipping with horsewhips and coachwhips on his bare body, grievous stonings and imprisonments in three years time before the king came in, that they might have taken warning, but they could not."–Fox; Journal, i. 572.]

[Footnote 2: Lambert spoke of him with kindness during the debate: “He was two years my quarter-master, and a very useful person. We parted with him with very great regret. He was a man of very unblameable life and conversation."–Burton’s Diary, i. 33.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. October.]

been dead the space of two days. These occasionally threw scarfs and handkerchiefs before him, and sang, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God of Hosts: Hosanna in the highest; holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God of Israel.” They were apprehended by the mayor, and, sent[a] to London to be examined by a committee of the parliament. The house, having heard the report of the committee, voted that Naylor was guilty of blasphemy. The next consideration was his punishment; the more zealous moved that he should be put to death; but after a debate which continued during eleven days, the motion was lost[b] by a division of ninety-six to eighty-two. Yet the punishment to which he was doomed ought to have satisfied the most bigoted of his adversaries. He stood[c] with his neck in the pillory for two hours, and was whipped from Palace Yard to the Old Exchange, receiving three hundred and ten lashes in the way. Some days later[d] he was again placed in the pillory; and the letter B for blasphemer was burnt on his forehead, and his tongue was bored with a red-hot iron.[1] From London the house ordered him to be conducted[e] to Bristol, the place of his offence. He entered at Lamford’s Gate, riding on the bare back of a horse with his face to the tail; dismounted at Rockley Gate, and was successively whipped[f] in five parts of the city. His admirers, however, were not ashamed of the martyr. On every

[Footnote 1: “This day I and B. went to see Naylor’s tongue bored through, and him marked on the forehead. He put out his tongue very willingly, but shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead. He was pale when he came out of the pillory, but high-coloured after tongue-boring. He behaved himself very handsomely and patiently” (p. 266 in Burton’s Diary, where the report of these debates on Naylor occupies one hundred and forty pages).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Dec. 6.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 16.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1656. Dec. 18.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1656. Dec. 27.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1657. Jan. 13.] [Sidenote f: A.D. 1657. Jan. 17.]

occasion they attended him bareheaded; they kissed and sucked his wounds; and they chanted with him passages from the Scriptures. On his return to London[a] he was committed to solitary confinement, without pen, ink, or paper, or fire, or candle, and with no other sustenance than what he might earn by his own industry. Here the delusion under which he laboured gradually wore away; he acknowledged that his mind had been in darkness, the consequence and punishment of spiritual pride; and declared that, inasmuch as he had given advantage to the evil spirit, he took shame to himself. By “the rump parliament” he was afterwards discharged; and the society of Friends, by whom he had been disowned, admitted him again on proof of his repentance. But his sufferings had injured his health. In 1660 he was found in a dying state in a field in Huntingdonshire, and shortly afterwards expired.[1]

While the parliament thus spent its time in the prosecution of an offence which concerned it not, Cromwell anxiously revolved in his own mind a secret project of the first importance to himself and the country. To his ambition, it was not sufficient that he actually possessed the supreme authority, and exercised it with more despotic sway than any of his legitimate predecessors; he still sought to mount a step higher, to encircle his brows with a diadem, and to be addressed with the title of majesty. It could not be, that vanity alone induced him to hazard the attachment of his friends for the sake of mere parade and empty sound. He had rendered the more modest title of protector as great and as formidable as that of

[Footnote 1: Journals, Dec. 5-17; 1659, Sept. 8. Sewel, 260-273, 283, 393. State Trials, v. 810-842. Merc. Polit. No. 34.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 22.]

king, and, though uncrowned, had treated on a footing of equality with the proudest of the crowned heads in Europe. It is more probable that he was led by considerations of interest. He knew that the nation was weary of change; he saw with what partiality men continued to cling to the old institutions; and he, perhaps, trusted that the establishment of an hereditary monarchy, with a house of peers, though under a new dynasty, and with various modifications, might secure the possession of the crown, not only to himself, but also to his posterity. However that may be, he now made the acquisition of the kingly dignity the object of his policy. For this purpose he consulted first with Thurloe, and afterwards[a] with St. John and Pierpoint;[1] and the manner in which he laboured to gratify his ambition strikingly displays that deep dissimulation and habitual hypocrisy, which form the distinguishing traits of his character.

The first opportunity of preparing the public mind for this important alteration was furnished by the recent proceedings against Naylor, which had provoked considerable discontent, not on account of the severity of the punishment (for rigid notions of religion had subdued the common feelings of humanity), but on account of the judicial authority exercised by the house–an authority which appeared subversive of the national liberties. For of what use was the right of trial, if the parliament could set aside the ordinary courts of law at its pleasure, and inflict arbitrary punishment for any supposed offence without the usual forms of inquiry? As long as the question was before the house, Cromwell remained silent; but when the first part of the judgment had been executed

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, v. 694; vi. 20, 37.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Dec. 9.]

on the unfortunate sufferer, he came forward in quality of guardian of the public rights, and concluded a letter to the speaker[a] with these words: "We, being intrusted in the present government on behalf of the people of these nations, and not knowing how far such proceedings (wholly without us) may extend in the consequences of it, do desire that the house will let us know the ground and reason whereupon they have proceeded.” This message struck the members[b] with amazement. Few among them were willing to acknowledge] that they had exceeded their real authority; all dreaded to enter into a contest with the protector. The discussion lasted three days; every expedient that had been suggested was ultimately rejected; and the debate was adjourned to a future day,[c] when, with the secret connivance of Cromwell, no motion was made to resume it.[1] He had already obtained his object. The thoughts of men had been directed to the defects of the existing constitution, and to the necessity of establishing checks on the authority of the house, similar to those which existed under the ancient government.

In a few days[d] a bill was introduced which, under the pretence of providing money for the support of the militia, sought to confirm the past proceedings of the majors-general, and to invest them with legal authority for the future. The protector was aware that the country longed to be emancipated from the control of these military governors; for the attainment of his great object it was his interest to stand well with all classes of people; and, therefore, though he was the author of this unpopular institution, though in his speech at the opening of the parliament he had been

[Footnote: Burton’s Diary, i. 246-258, 260-264, 270-282, 296.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1656. Dec. 25.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1656. Dec. 26.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. Jan. 2.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1657. Jan. 7.]

eloquent in its praise, though he had declared that, after his experience of its utility, “if the thing were undone he would do it again;” he now not only abandoned the majors-general to their fate, he even instructed his dependants in the house to lead the opposition against them. As soon as the bill was read a first time, his son-in-law, Claypole, who seldom spoke, rose to express his dissent, and was followed by the Lord Broghill, known as the confidential counsellor of the protector. The decimation-tax was denounced as unjust, because it was a violation of the act of oblivion, and the conduct of the majors-general was compared to the tyranny of the Turkish bashaws. These officers defended themselves with spirit; their adversaries had recourse to personal crimination;[1] and the debate, by successive adjournments, occupied the attention of the house during eleven days. In conclusion, the bill was rejected[a] by a numerous majority and the majors-general, by the desertion of Cromwell, found themselves exposed to actions at law for the exercise of those powers which they had accepted in obedience to his commands.[2]

While this question was still pending, it chanced that a plot against the protector’s life, of which the

[Footnote 1: Among others, Harry Cromwell, the protector’s nephew, said he was ready to name some among the majors-general who had acted oppressively. It was supposed that these words would bring him into disgrace at court. "But Harry,” says a private letter, “goes last night to his highness, and stands to what he had said manfully and wisely; and, to make it appear he spake not without book, had his black book and papers ready to make good what he said. His highness answered him in raillery, and took a rich scarlet cloak from his back, and gloves from his hands, and gave them to Harry, who strutted with his new cloak and gloves into the house this day."–Thurloe, iv. 20.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Jan. 7, 8, 12, 19, 20, 21, 28, 29. Burton’s Diary, 310-320.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Jan. 29.]

particulars will be subsequently noticed, was discovered and defeated. The circumstance furnished an opportunity favourable to his views; and the re-establishment of “kingship” was mentioned in the house, not as a project originating from him, but as the accidental and spontaneous suggestion of others. Goffe having expressed[a] a hope that parliament would provide for the preservation of the protector’s person, Ashe, the member for Somersetshire, exclaimed, ’I would add something more–that he would be pleased to take upon him the government according to the ancient constitution. That would put an end to these plots, and fix our liberties and his safety on an old and sure foundation.” The house was taken by surprise: many reprehended the temerity of the speaker; by many his suggestion was applauded and approved. He had thrown it out to try the temper of his colleagues; and the conversation which it provoked, served to point out to Cromwell the individuals from whom he might expect to meet with opposition.[1]

The detection of the conspiracy was followed[b] by an address of congratulation to the protector, who on his part gave to the members a princely entertainment at Whitehall. At their next meeting[c] the question was regularly brought before them by Alderman Pack, who boldly undertook a task which the timidity of Whitelock had declined. Rising in his place, he offered to the house a paper, of which he gave no other explanation than that it had been placed in his hands, and “tended to the settlement of the country.” Its purport, however, was already known, or conjectured; several officers instantly started from their seats, and

[Footnote 1: Burton’s Diary, 362-366.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Jan. 19.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. Feb. 20.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. Feb. 23.]

Pack was violently borne down to the bar. But, on the restoration of order, he found himself supported by Broghill, Whitelock, and Glynn, and, with them, by the whole body of the lawyers, and the dependants of the court. The paper was read; it was entitled, “An humble Address and Remonstrance," protesting against the existing form of government, which depended for security on the odious institution of majors-general, and providing that the protector should assume a higher title, and govern, as had been done in times past, with the advice of two houses of parliament. The opposition (it consisted of the chief officers, the leading members in the council, and a few representatives of counties) threw every obstacle in the way of its supporters; but they were overpowered by numbers: the house debated each article in succession, and the whole project was finally adopted,[a] but with the omission of the remonstrance, and under the amended title of the "Humble Petition and Advice."[1]

As long as the question was before parliament, Cromwell bore himself in public as if he were unconcerned in the result; but his mind was secretly harassed by the reproaches of his friends and by the misgivings of his conscience. He saw for the first time marshalled against him the men who had stood by him in his different fortunes, and whom he had bound to his interest by marriages and preferment. At their head was Lambert, the commander of the army in England, the idol of the military, and second only to himself in authority. Then came Desborough, his brother-in-law, the major-general in five counties, and Fleetwood, the husband of his daughter Bridget, and

[Footnote 1: Journals, Jan. 19, Feb. 21, 23, 24, 25. Thurloe, vi. 74, 78. Whitelock, 665, 666. Ludlow, ii. 128. Burton’s Diary, iii. 160.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 25.] lord-deputy of Ireland.[1] Lambert, at a private meeting of officers, proposed to bring up five regiments of cavalry, and compel the house to confirm both the “instrument,” and the establishment of majors-general. This bold counsel was approved; but the next morning his colleagues, having sought the Lord in prayer, resolved to postpone its execution till they had ascertained the real intention of the protector; and Lambert, warned by their indecision, took no longer any part in their meeting, but watched in silence the course of events.[2] The other two, on the contrary, persevered in the most active opposition; nor did they suffer themselves to be cajoled by the artifices of the protector, who talked in their hearing with contempt of the crown as a mere bauble, and of Pack and his supporters as children, whom it might be prudent to indulge with a “rattle."[3]

The marked opposition of these men had given energy to the proceedings of the inferior officers, who formed themselves into a permanent council under the very eyes of Cromwell, passed votes in disapprobation of the proposed alteration, and to the number of one hundred waited on him to acquaint him with their sentiments.[4] He replied,[a] that there was a time when they felt no objection to the title of king; for the army had offered it to him with the original instrument of government. He had rejected it then, and had no greater love for it now. He had always been

[Footnote 1: Desborough and Fleetwood passed from the inns of court to the army. The first married Anne, the protector’s sister; the second, Bridget his daughter, and the widow of Ireton. Suspicious of his principles, Cromwell kept him in England, while Henry Cromwell, with the rank of major-general, held the government of Ireland.–Noble, i. 103; ii. 243, 336, 338.]

[Footnote 2: Clar. Pap. iii. 333.]

[Footnote 3: Ludlow, ii. 131.]

[Footnote 4: Thurloe, vi. 93, 94, 101, 219.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 28.] the “drudge” of the officers, had done the work which they imposed on him, and had sacrificed his opinion to theirs. If the present parliament had been called, it was in opposition to his individual judgment; if the bill, which proved so injurious to the majors-general, had been brought into the house, it was contrary to his advice. But the officers had overrated their own strength: the country called for an end to all arbitrary proceedings; the punishment of Naylor proved the necessity of a check on the judicial proceedings of the parliament, and that check could only be procured by investing the protector with additional authority. This answer made several proselytes; but the majority adhered pertinaciously to their former opinion.[1]

Nor was this spirit confined to the army; in all companies men were heard to maintain that, to set up monarchy again was to pronounce condemnation on themselves, to acknowledge themselves guilty of all the blood which had been shed to put it down. But nowhere did the proposal excite more cordial abhorrence than in the conventicles of the Fifth-monarchy-men. In their creed the protectorate was an impiety, kingship a sacrilegious assumption of the authority belonging to the only King, the Lord Jesus. They were his witnesses foretold in the Apocalypse; they had now slept their sleep of three years and a half; the time was come when it was their duty to rise and avenge the cause of the Lord. In the conventicles of the capital the lion of Judah was chosen for their military device; arms were prepared, and the day of rising was fixed. They amounted, indeed, to no more

[Footnote 1: For this extraordinary speech we are indebted to the industry of Mr. Rutt.–Burton’s Diary, i. 382.] than eighty men; but they were the champions of Him who, “though they might be as a worm, would enable them to thrash mountains.” The projects of these fanatics did not escape the penetrating eye of Thurloe, who, for more than a year, had watched all their motions, and was in possession of all their secrets. Their proceedings were regulated by five persons, each of whom presided in a separate conventicle, and kept his followers in ignorance of the names of the brethren associated under the four remaining leaders. A fruitless attempt was made to unite them with the Levellers. But the Levellers trusted too much to worldly wisdom; the fanatics wished to begin the strife, and to leave the issue to their Heavenly King. The appointed day[a] came: as they proceeded to the place of rendezvous, the soldiers of the Lord were met by the soldiers of the protector; twenty were made prisoners; the rest escaped, with the loss of their horses and arms, which were seized in the depôt.[1]

In the mean while the new form of government had received the sanction of the house. Cromwell, when it was laid before him, had recourse to his usual arts, openly refusing that for which he ardently longed, and secretly encouraging his friends to persist, that his subsequent acquiescence might appear to proceed from a sense of duty, and not from the lust of power. At first,[b] in reply to a long and tedious harangue from the speaker, he told them of “the consternation of his mind” at the very thought of the burden; requested time “to ask counsel of God and his own heart;” and, after a pause of three days,[c] replied that, inasmuch as the new constitution provided the best securities for

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 655. Thurloe, vi. 163, 184-188.]

[Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. April 3.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 9.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. March 31.]

the civil and religious liberties of the people, it had his unqualified approbation; but, as far as regarded himself, “he did not find it in his duty to God and the country to undertake the charge under the new title which was given him."[1] His friends refused to be satisfied with this answer: the former vote was renewed,[a] and the house, waiting on him in a body, begged to remind him, that it was his duty to listen to the advice of the great council of the three nations. He meekly replied, that he still had his doubts on one point; and that, till such doubts were removed, his conscience forbade him to assent; but that he was willing to explain his reasons, and to hear theirs, and to hope that in a friendly conference the means might be discovered of reconciling their opposite opinions, and of determining on that which might be most beneficial to the country.[2]

In obedience to this intimation, a committee of the house was appointed to receive and solve the scruples of the protector. To their surprise, they found him in no haste to enter on the discussion. Sometimes he was indisposed, and could not admit them; often he was occupied with important business; on three occasions they obtained an interview. He wished to argue the question on the ground of expedience. If the power were the same under a protector, where, he asked, could be the use of a king? The title would offend men, who, by their former services, had earned the right to have even their prejudices respected. Neither was he sure that the re-establishment of royalty might not be a falling off from that cause in

[Footnote 1: Merc. Pol. No. 355. Mr. Rutt has discovered and inserted both speeches at length in Burton’s Diary, i. 397-416.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, i. 751, 756. Parl. Hist. iii. 1493-1495. Burton’s Diary, i. 417.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 8.]

which they had engaged, and from that Providence by which they had been so marvellously supported. It was true, that the Scripture sanctioned the dignity of king; but to the testimony of Scripture might be opposed “the visible hand of God,” who, in the late contest, “had eradicated kingship." It was gravely replied, that Protector was a new, King an ancient, title; the first had no definite meaning, the latter was interwoven with all our laws and institutions; the powers of one were unknown and liable to alteration, those of the other ascertained and limited by the law of custom and the statute law. The abolition of royalty did not originally enter into the contemplation of parliament–the objection was to the person, not to the office–it was afterwards effected by a portion only of the representative body; whereas, its restoration was now sought by a greater authority–the whole parliament of the three kingdoms. The restoration was, indeed, necessary, both for his security and theirs; as by law all the acts of a king in possession, but only of a king, are good and valid. Some there were who pretended that king and chief magistrate were synonymous; but no one had yet ventured to substitute one word for the other in the Scriptures, where so many covenants, promises, and precepts are annexed to the title of king. Neither could the “visible hand of God” be alleged in the present case; for the visible hand of God had eradicated the government by a single person as clearly as that by a king. Cromwell promised to give due attention to these arguments; to his confidential friends he owned that his objections were removed; and, at the same time, to enlighten the ignorance of the public, he ordered[a] a report of the conferences to be published.[1]

[Footnote 1: See Monarchy asserted to be the most Ancient and Legal Form of Government, &c. 1660; Walker, Researches, Historical and Antiquarian, i. 1-27; Burton’s Diary, App. ii. 493; Thurloe, vi. 819; Whitelock, 565; Journals, April 9-21.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 20.]

The protector’s, however, was not one of those minds that resolve quickly and execute promptly. He seldom went straight forwards to his object, but preferred a winding circuitous route. He was accustomed to view and review the question, in all its bearings and possible consequences, and to invent fresh causes of delay, till he occasionally incurred the suspicion of irresolution and timidity.[1] Instead of returning a plain and decisive answer, he sought to protract the time by requesting[a] the sense of the house on different passages in the petition, on the intended amount of the annual income, and on the ratification of the ordinances issued by himself, and of the acts passed by the little parliament. By this contrivance the respite of a fortnight was obtained, during which he frequently consulted with Broghill, Pierpoint, Whitelock, Wolseley, and Thurloe.[2] At length it was whispered at court that the protector had resolved to accept the title; and immediately Lambert, Fleetwood, and Desborough made[b] to him, in their own names and those of several others, the unpleasant declaration, that they must resign their commissions, and sever themselves from his councils and service for ever. His irresolution returned: he had promised the house to give a final answer the next morning;[c] in the morning he postponed it to five in the evening, and at that hour to

[Footnote 1: “Every wise man out of doors wonders at the delay,” Thurloe, vi. 243; also Claren. Papers, iii. 339.]

[Footnote 2: “In these meetings,” says Whitelock, “laying aside his greatness, he would be exceedingly familiar with us, and, by way of diversion, would make verses with us, and every one must try his fancy. He commonly called for tobacco, pipes, and a candle, and would now and then take tobacco himself. Then he would fall again to his serious and great business” (656).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. May 6.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1657. May 7.]

the following day. The officers observed, and resolved to profit by, the impression which they had made; and early in the morning[a] Colonel Mason, with six-and-twenty companions, offered to the parliament a petition, in which they stated that the object of those with whom the measure originated was the ruin of the lord-general and of the best friends of the people, and conjured the house to support the good old cause in defence of which the petitioners were ready to sacrifice their lives. This bold step subdued the reluctance of the protector. He abandoned the lofty hopes to which he had so long, so pertinaciously clung, despatched Fleetwood to the house to prevent a debate, and shortly afterwards summoned the members to meet him at Whitehall. Addressing them with more than his usual embarrassment, he said, that neither his own reflections nor the reasoning of the committee had convinced him that he ought to accept the title of king. If he were to accept it, it would be doubtingly; if he did it doubtingly, it would not be of faith; and if it were not of faith, it would be a sin. “Wherefore,” he concluded, “I cannot undertake this government with that title of king, and this is mine answer to this great and weighty business."[1]

Thus ended the mighty farce which for more than two months held in suspense the hopes and fears of three nations. But the friends of Cromwell resumed the subject in parliament. It was observed that he had not refused to administer the government under any other title; the name of king was expunged for that of protector; and with this and a few more amendments, the “humble petition and advice"[b] received

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 261, 267, 281, 291. Journals, April 21-May 12. Parl. Hist. iii. 1498-1502. Ludlow, ii. 131. Clar. Papers, iii. 342.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. May 8.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. May 25.]

the sanction of the chief magistrate. The inauguration followed.[a] On the platform, raised at the upper end of Westminster Hall, and in front of a magnificent chair of state, stood the protector; while the speaker, with his assistants, invested him with a purple mantle lined with ermine, presented him with a Bible superbly gilt and embossed, girt a sword by his side, and placed a sceptre of massive gold in his hand. As soon as the oath had been administered, Manton, his chaplain, pronounced a long and fervent prayer for a blessing on the protector, the parliament, and the people. Rising from prayer, Cromwell seated himself in a chair: on the right, at some distance, sat the French, on the left, the Dutch ambassador; on one side stood the earl of Warwick with the sword of the commonwealth, on the other, the lord mayor, with that of the city; and behind arranged themselves the members of the protector’s family, the lords of the council, and Lisle, Whitelock, and Montague, each of the three bearing a drawn sword. At a signal given, the trumpets sounded; the heralds proclaimed the style of the new sovereign; and the spectators shouted, “Long live his highness; God save the lord-protector.” He rose immediately, bowed to the ambassadors, and walked in state through the hall to his carriage.[1]

That which distinguished the present from the late form of government was the return which it made towards the more ancient institutions of the country.

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 622. Merc. Polit. No. 369. Parl. Hist. iii. 1514, and Prestwick’s Relation, App. to Burton’s Diary, ii. 511. Most of the officers took the oath of fidelity to the protector. Lambert refused, and resigned his commissions, which brought him about six thousand pounds per annum. Cromwell, however, assigned to him a yearly pension of two thousand pounds.–Ludlow, ii. 136.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. June 26.]

That return, indeed, had wrung from Cromwell certain concessions repugnant to his feelings and ambition, but to which he probably was reconciled by the consideration that in the course of a few years they might be modified or repealed. The supreme authority was vested in the protector; but, instead of rendering it hereditary in his family, the most which he could obtain was the power of nominating his immediate successor. The two houses of parliament were restored; but, as if it were meant to allude to his past conduct, he was bound to leave to the House of Commons the right of examining the qualifications and determining the claims of the several representatives. To him was given the power of nominating the members of the “other house” (he dared not yet term it the House of Lords); but, in the first instance, the persons so nominated were to be approved by the house of representatives, and afterwards by the other house itself. The privilege of voting by proxy was abolished, and the right of judicature restrained within reasonable limits. In the appointment of councillors, the great officers of state, and the commanders of the forces, many of the restrictions sought to be introduced by the long parliament were enforced. In point of religion, it was enacted that a confession of faith should be agreed upon between the protector and the two houses; but that dissenters from it should enjoy liberty of conscience, and the free exercise of their worship, unless they should reject the mystery of the Trinity, or the inspiration of the Scriptures, or profess prelatic, or popish, or blasphemous doctrines. The yearly revenue was fixed at one million three hundred thousand pounds, of which no part was to be raised by a land-tax; and of this sum one million was devoted to the support of the army and navy, and three hundred thousand pounds to the expenses of the civil list; but, on the remonstrance of the protector, that with so small a revenue it would be impossible to continue the war, an additional grant of six hundred thousand pounds was voted for the three following years. After the inauguration, the Commons adjourned during six months, that time might be allowed for the formation of the “other house."[1]

Having brought this important session of parliament to its conclusion, we may now revert to the miscellaneous occurrences of the year, 1. Had much credit been given to the tales of spies and informers, neither Cromwell nor his adversary, Charles Stuart, would have passed a day without the dread of assassination. But they knew that such persons are wont to invent and exaggerate, in order to enhance the value of their services; and each had, therefore, contented, himself with taking no other than ordinary precautions for his security.[2] Cromwell, however, was aware of the fierce, unrelenting disposition of the Levellers; the moment he learned that they were negotiating with the exiled king and the Spaniards, he concluded that they had sworn his destruction; and to oppose their attempts on his life, he selected[a] one hundred and sixty brave and trusty men from the different regiments of cavalry, whom he divided into eight

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 657, 663. Parl. Hist. iii. 1502-1511. In a catalogue printed at the time, the names were given of one hundred and eighty-two members of this parliament, who, it was pretended, “were sons, kinsmen, servants, and otherwise engaged unto, and had places of profit, offices, salaries, and advantages, under the protector,” sharing annually among them out of the public money the incredible sum of one million sixteen thousand three hundred and seventeen pounds, sixteen shillings, and eightpence.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe’s voluminous papers abound with offers and warnings connected with this subject.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 28.]

troops, directing that two of these troops in rotation should be always on duty near his person.[1] Before the end of the year, he learned[a] that a plot had actually been organized, that assassins had been engaged, and that his death was to be the signal for a simultaneous rising of the Levellers and royalists, and the sailing of a hostile expedition from the coast of Flanders. The author of this plan was Sexby; nor will it be too much to assert that it was not only known, but approved by the advisers of Charles at Bruges. They appointed an agent to accompany the chief of the conspirators; they prepared to take every advantage of the murder; they expressed an unfeigned sorrow for the failure of the attempt. Indeed, Clarendon, the chief minister (he had lately been made lord chancellor), was known to hold, that the assassination of a successful rebel or usurper was an act of justifiable and meritorious loyalty.[2]

Sexby had found a fit instrument for his purpose in Syndercombe, a man of the most desperate courage,

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, iv. 567. Carte, Letters, ii. 81. Their pay was four and sixpence per day.–Ibid. In addition, if we may believe Clarendon, he had always several beds prepared in different chambers, so that no one knew in what particular room he would pass the night.–Hist. iii. 646.]

[Footnote 2: That both Charles and Clarendon knew of the design, and interested themselves in its execution, is plain from several letters.–Clar. Pap. iii. 311, 312, 315, 324, 327, 331, 335. Nor can there be a doubt that Clarendon approved of such murders. It is, indeed, true that, speaking of the murder of Ascham, when he was at Madrid, he says that he and his colleague, Lord Cottington, abhorred it.–Clar. Hist. iii. 351. Yet, from his private correspondence, it appears that he wrote papers in defence of the murderers (Clar. Pap. iii. 21, 23), recommended them as "brave fellows, and honest gentlemen” (ibid. 235, 236), and observed to Secretary Nicholas, that it was a sad and grievous thing that the princess royal had not supplied Middleton with money, “but a worse and baser thing that any man should appear in any part beyond sea under the character of an agent from the rebels, and not have his throat cut."–Ibid. 144, 1652, Feb. 20.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Dec. 9.]

formerly a quarter-master in the army in Scotland, and dismissed on account of his political principles. Having admitted a man of the name of Cecil as his associate, he procured seven guns which would carry a number of balls, hired lodgings in places near which the protector was likely to pass, bribed Took, one of the life-guardsmen, to give information of his motions, and bought the fleetest horses for the purpose of escape. Yet all his designs were frustrated, either by the multitude of the spectators, or the vigilance of the guards, or by some unforeseen and unlucky accident. At the persuasion of Wildman he changed his plan;[a] and on the 9th of January, about six in the evening, entered Whitehall with his two accomplices; he unlocked the door of the chapel, deposited in a pew a basket filled with inflammable materials, and lighted a match, which, it was calculated, would burn six hours. His intention, was that the fire should break out about midnight; but Took had already revealed the secret to Cromwell, and all three were apprehended as they closed the door of the chapel. Took saved his life by the discovery, Cecil by the confession of all that he knew. But Syndercombe had wisely concealed from them the names of his associates and the particulars of the plan. They knew not that certain persons within the palace had undertaken to murder the protector during the confusion likely to be caused by the conflagration, and that such measures had been taken as to render his escape almost impossible. Syndercombe was tried; the judges held that the title of protector was in law synonymous with that of king; and he was condemned[b] to suffer the penalties of high treason. His obstinate silence defeated the anxiety of the protector to procure further information respecting

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Jan. 9.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. Feb. 9.]

the plot; and Syndercombe, whether he laid violent hands on himself, or was despatched by the order of government, was found dead[a] in his bed, a few hours before the time appointed for his execution.[1]

2. The failure of this conspiracy would not have prevented the intended invasion by the royal army from Flanders, had not Charles been disappointed in his expectations from another quarter. No reasoning, no entreaty, could quicken the characteristic slowness of the Spanish ministers. Neither fleet nor money was ready; the expedition was postponed from month to month; the season passed away, and the design was deferred till the return of the long and darksome nights of winter. But Sexby’s impatience refused to submit to these delays; his fierce and implacable spirit could not be satisfied without the life of the protector. A tract had been recently printed in Holland, entitled “Killing no Murder,” which, from the powerful manner in which it was written, made a deeper impression on the public mind than any other literary production of the age. After an address to

[Footnote 1: See Thurloe, v. 774-777; vi. 7, 53; Merc. Polit. No. 345; Bates, Elen. 388; Clarendon Pap. iii. 324, 325, 327; Claren. Hist. iii. 646; and the several authorities copied in the State Trials, v. 842-871. The body was opened, and the surgeons declared that there existed no trace of poison in the stomach, but that the brain was inflamed and distended with blood in a greater degree than is usual in apoplexy, or any known disease. The jury, by the direction of the lord chief justice, returned a verdict that “he, the said Miles Syndercombe, a certain poisoned powder through the nose of him, the said Miles, into the head of him, the said Miles, feloniously, wilfully, and of malice aforethought, did snuff and draw; by reason of which snuffing and drawing so as aforesaid, into the head of him, the said Miles, he the said Miles, himself did mortally poison,” &c.–Ibid. 859. The Levellers and royalists maintained that he was strangled by order of Cromwell.–Clar. iii. 647.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Feb. 13.]

Cromwell, and another to the army, both conceived in a strain of the most poignant and sarcastic irony, it proceeds to discuss the three questions: Whether the lord-protector be a tyrant? Whether it be lawful to do justice on him by killing him? and, Whether this, if it be lawful, will prove of benefit to the commonwealth? Having determined each question in the affirmative, it concludes with an eulogium on the bold and patriotic spirit of Syndercombe, the rival of Brutus and Cato, and a warning that “longus illum sequitur ordo idem petentium decus;” that the protector’s own muster-roll contains the names of those who aspire to the honour of delivering their country; that his highness is not secure at his table, or in his bed; that death is at his heels wherever he moves, and that though his head reaches the clouds, he shall perish like his own dung, and they that have seen him shall exclaim, Where is he? Of this tract thousands of copies were sent by Sexby into England; and, though many were seized by the officers, yet many found their way into circulation.[1] Having obtained a sum of one thousand four hundred crowns, he followed the books to organize new plots against the life of the protector. But by this time he was too well known. All his steps in Holland were watched; his departure for England was announced; emissaries were despatched in every direction; and within a few weeks he was apprehended and incarcerated in the Tower. There he discovered, probably feigned, symptoms of insanity. To questions respecting himself[a] he answered with apparent frankness and truth, that he had intrigued with the Spanish court, that he had supplied Syndercombe with money, that he had written the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 315.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Oct. 10.]

tract, “Killing no Murder;” nor was there, he said, any thing unlawful in these things, for the protectorate had not then been established by any authority of parliament; but, whenever he was interrogated respecting the names and plans of his associates, his answers became wild and incoherent, more calculated to mislead than to inform, to create suspicion of the friends, than to detect the machinations of the enemies, of the government. He was never brought to trial, but died, probably by violence, in the sixth month of his imprisonment.[1]

3. During the winter Blake continued to blockade Cadiz: in spring he learnt that the Plate fleet from Peru had sought an asylum in the harbour of Santa Cruz, in the Island of Teneriffe. There the merchantmen, ten in number, were moored close to the shore, in the form of a crescent; while the six galleons in their front formed a parallel line at anchor in deeper water. The entrance of the bay was commanded by the guns of the castle; seven batteries erected at intervals along the beach protected the rest of the harbour; and these were connected with each other by covered ways lined with musketry. So confident was the governor when he surveyed these preparations, that, in the pride of his heart, he desired a Dutch

[Footnote 1: Clarendon Papers, iii. 322, 338, 357. Merc. Pol. 39. Thurloe, vi. 33, 182, 315, 425, 560, 829. Clarendon assures us that Sexby was an illiterate person, which is a sufficient proof that he was not the real author of the tract, though he acknowledged it for his own in the Tower, probably to deceive the protector. The writer, whoever he was, kept his secret, at least at first; for Clarendon writes to Secretary Nicholas, that he cannot imagine who could write it.–Clar. Papers, iii. 343. By most historians it has been attributed to Captain Titus; nor shall we think this improbable, if we recollect that Titus was, in Holland, constantly in the company of Sexby, till the departure of the latter for England.–Ibid. 331, 335. Evelyn asserts it in his Diary, ii. 210, 8vo.]

captain to inform the English admiral that he was welcome to come whenever he durst. Blake came, examined the defences, and, according to custom, proclaimed a solemn fast. At eight the next morning[a] Stayner took the lead in a frigate; the admiral followed in the larger ships; and the whole fleet availing itself of a favourable wind, entered the harbour under a tremendous shower of balls and shells. Each vessel immediately fell into its allotted station; and, while some engaged the shipping, the rest directed their fire against the batteries. The Spaniards, though fewer in number of ships, were superior in that of men; their hopes were supported by the aid which they received from the land; and during four hours they fought with the most determined bravery. Driven from the galleons, the crews retreated to the second line of merchantmen, and renewed the contest till they were finally compelled to save themselves on the shore. At two in the afternoon every Spanish ship was in possession of the English, and in flames. Still there remained the difficulty of working the fleet out of the harbour in the teeth of the gale. About sunset they were out of reach of the guns from the forts; the wind, by miracle, as Blake persuaded himself, veered to the south-west, and the conquerors proceeded triumphantly out to sea. This gallant action, though it failed of securing the treasure which the protector chiefly sought, raised the reputation of Blake in every part of Europe. Unfortunately the hero himself lived not to receive the congratulations of his country. He had been during a great part of three years at sea; the scurvy and dropsy wasted his constitution; and he expired[b] in his fifty-ninth year,

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 20.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. August 7.]

as his ship, the St. George, entered the harbour of Plymouth.[1]

Blake had served with distinction in the army during the civil war; and the knowledge of his talents and integrity induced the parliamentary leaders to entrust him with the command of the fleet. For maritime tactics he relied on the experience of others; his plans and his daring were exclusively his own. He may claim the peculiar praise of having dispelled an illusion which had hitherto cramped the operations of the British navy–a persuasion that it was little short of madness to expose a ship at sea to the fire from a battery on shore. The victories of Blake at Tunis and Santa Cruz served to establish the contrary doctrine; and the seamen learned from his example to despise the danger which had hitherto been deemed so formidable. Though Cromwell prized his services, he doubted his attachment; and a suspicion existed that the protector did not regret the death of one who professed to fight for his country, not for the government. But he rendered that justice to the dead, which he might perhaps have refused to the living, hero. He publicly acknowledged his merit, honouring his bones with a funeral at the national expense, and ordering them to be interred at Westminster, in Henry the Seventh’s chapel. In the next reign the coffin was taken from the vault, and deposited in the church yard.

4. The reader is aware of Cromwell’s anxiety to form a more intimate alliance with Louis XIV. For this purpose Lockhart, one of the Scottish judges, who

[Footnote 1: Vaughan, ii. 176. Heath, 391, 402. Echard, 725. Journals, May 28, 29.]

had married his niece, and received knighthood at his hand, proceeded to France. After some discussion, a treaty, to last twelve months, was concluded;[1][a] and Sir John Reynolds landed at Calais[b] with an auxiliary force of six thousand men, one half in the pay of the king, the other half in that of the protector. But as an associate in the war, Cromwell demanded a share in the spoil, and that share was nothing less than the possession of Mardyke and Dunkirk, as soon as they could be reduced by the allies. To this proposal the strongest opposition had been made in the French cabinet. Louis was reminded of the injuries which the English, the natural enemies of France, had inflicted on the country in the reigns of his predecessors. Dunkirk would prove a second Calais; it would open to a foreign foe the way into the heart of his dominions. But he yielded to the superior wisdom or ascendancy of Mazarin, who replied that, if France refused the offers it would be accepted with a similar sacrifice by Spain; that, supposing the English to be established on that coast at all, it was better that they should be there as friends than as enemies; and that their present co-operation would enable him either to drive the Spaniards out of the Netherlands, or to dictate to them the terms of peace.[2] The combined force

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 63, 86, 115, 124. To avoid disputes, the treaty was written in the Latin language, and the precedency was given to Louis in one copy, to Cromwell in the other. In the diplomatic collection of Dumont, vi. part ii. 178, is published a second treaty, said to have been signed on May 9th, N.S. If it were genuine, it would disclose gigantic projects of aggrandizement on the part of the two powers. But it is clearly a forgery. We have despatches from Lockhart dated on the day of the pretended signature, and other despatches for a year afterward; yet none of them make the remotest allusion to this treaty; several contain particulars inconsistent with it.]

[Footnote 2: Oeuvres de Louis XIV. i. 171.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. March 13, May 15.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. May 15.]

was placed under the command of the celebrated Turenne, who was opposed by the Spaniards under Don Juan, with the British exiles, commanded by the duke of York, and the French exiles, by the prince of Condé. The English auxiliaries, composed of veteran regiments, supported the reputation of their country by their martial appearance and exemplary discipline; but they had few opportunities of displaying their valour; and the summer was spent in a tedious succession of marches and countermarches, accompanied with no brilliant action nor important result. Cromwell viewed the operations of the army with distrust and impatience. The French ministry seemed in no haste to redeem their pledge with respect to the reduction of Dunkirk, and to his multiplied remonstrances uniformly opposed this unanswerable objection, that, in the opinion of Turenne, the best judge, the attempt in the existing circumstances must prove ruinous to the allies. At last he would brook no longer delay; the army marched into the neighbourhood of the town, and the fort of Mardyke capitulated[a] after a siege of three days. But the Spaniards lay strongly intrenched behind the canal of Bergues, between Mardyke and Dunkirk; and by common consent the design was abandoned, and the siege of Gravelines substituted in its place. Scarcely, however, had the combined army taken[b] a position before it, when the sluices were opened, the country was inundated, and Turenne dismissed his forces into winter quarters. Mardyke received a garrison, partly of English, and partly of French, under the command of Sir John Reynolds; but that officer in a short time incurred the suspicion of the protector. The duke of York, from his former service in the French army, was well known

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Sept. 23.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. Sept. 27.]

to some of the French officers. They occasionally met and exchanged compliments in their rides, he from Dunkirk, they from Mardyke. By one of them Reynolds solicited permission to pay his respects to the young prince. He was accompanied by Crew, another officer; and, though he pretended that it was an accidental civility, found the opportunity of whispering an implied offer of his services in the ear of the duke. Within a few days he received an order to wait on the protector in London in company with Colonel White, who had secretly accused him; but both were lost[a] on the Goodwin Sands, through the ignorance or the stupidity of the captain.[1]

At home the public attention was absorbed by a new and most interesting spectacle. The parliament met on the day to which it had been adjourned, but it was now divided according to the ancient form into two houses. Sixty-two individuals had been summoned[b] to the upper house, and the writs, as they were copies of those formerly issued by the sovereign, were held to confer in like manner the privileges of an hereditary peerage, subject to certain exceptions specified in the “petition and advice."[2] The Commons, at the call of the usher of the black rod, proceeded to the House of Lords, where they found his highness seated under a canopy of state. His speech began with the ancient address: “My lords and gentlemen of the House of Commons.” It was short, but its brevity was compensated by its piety, and after an exposition of the eighty-fifth psalm, he referred his two houses for other particulars to Fiennes, the lord-keeper, who, in a long and tedious

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 231, 287, 426, 512, 538, 542, 580, 637, 665, 676, 731. Memoirs of James, i. 317-328.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vi. 752.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Dec. 5.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. Jan. 20.]

harangue, praised and defended the new institutions. After the departure of the Commons, the Lords spent their time in inquiries into the privileges of their house. Cromwell had summoned his two sons, Richard and Henry, seven peers of royal creation, several members of his council, some gentlemen of fortune and family, with a due proportion of lawyers and officers, and a scanty sprinkling of persons known to be disaffected to his government. Of the ancient peers two only attended, the lords Eure and Falconberg, of whom the latter had recently[a] married Mary, the protector’s daughter; and of the other members, nine were absent through business or disinclination. As their journals have not been preserved, we have little knowledge of their proceedings.[1]

In the lower house, the interest of the government had declined by the impolitic removal of the leading members to the House of Lords, and by the introduction of those who, having formerly been excluded by order of Cromwell, now took their seats in virtue of the article which reserved to the house the right of inquiry into the qualifications of its members. The opposition was led by two men of considerable influence and undaunted resolution, Hazlerig and Scot. Both had been excluded at the first meeting of this parliament, and both remembered the affront. To remove Hazlerig

[Footnote 1: Journals, Jan. 7, 20. Whitelock, 666, 668. The speech of Fiennes is reported in the Journals, Jan. 25. See the names and characters of those who attended, in “A Second Narrative of the late Parliament (so called), &c., printed in the fifth year of England’s Slavery under its new Monarchy, 1658.” “They spent their time in little matters, such as choosing of committees; and among other things, to consider of the privileges and jurisdiction of their house, (good wise souls!) before they knew what their house was, or should be called."–Ibid. 7. The peers who refused to attend, were the earls of Mulgrave, Warwick, and Manchester, the Viscount Say and Sele, and the Lord Wharton.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Nov. 19.]

from a place where his experience and eloquence rendered him a formidable adversary, Cromwell had called him to the upper house; but he refused to obey the writ, and took his seat among the Commons.[1] That a new house was to be called according to the articles of the “petition and advice,” no one denied; but who, it was asked, made its members lords? who gave them the privileges of the ancient peerage? who empowered them to negative the acts of that house to which they owed their existence? Was it to be borne that the children should assume the superiority over their parents; that the nominees of the protector should control the representatives of the people, the depositaries of the supreme power of the nation? It was answered that the protector had called them lords; that it was the object of “the petition and advice” to re-establish the “second estate;” and that, if any doubt remained, it were best to amend the “instrument” by giving to the members of the other house the title of lords, and to the protector that of king.[a] Cromwell sought to soothe these angry spirits. He read to them lectures on the benefit, the necessity, of unanimity. Let them look abroad. The papists threatened to swallow up all the Protestants of Europe. England was the only stay, the last hope of religion. Let them look at home: the Cavaliers and the Levellers were combined to overthrow the constitution; Charles Stuart was preparing an invasion; and the Dutch had ungratefully sold him certain vessels for that purpose. Dissension would inevitably draw down ruin on themselves,

[Footnote 1: Hazlerig made no objection to the oath which bound him to be faithful to the protector. But the sense which he attached to it is singular: “I will be faithful,” said he, “to the lord-protector’s person. I will murder no man."–Burton’s Diary, ii. 347.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Jan. 25.]

their liberties, and their religion. For himself. he called God, angels, and men, to witness that he sought not the office which he held. It was forced upon him; but he had sworn to execute its duties, and he would perform what he had sworn, by preserving to every class of men their just rights, whether civil or religious.[1] But his advice, and entreaties, and menaces were useless.[a] The judges repeatedly brought messages from “the Lords to the Commons,” and as often were told that “that house would return an answer by messengers of their own."[b] Instead, however, of returning answers, they spent their whole time in debating what title and what rights ought to belong to the other house.[2]

Never, perhaps, during his extraordinary career, was Cromwell involved in difficulties equal to those which surrounded him at this moment. He could raise no money without the consent of parliament, and the pay of the army in England was five, and of that in Ireland seven, months in arrear; the exiled king threatened a descent from the coast of Flanders, and the royalists throughout the

[Footnote 1: Mr. Rutt has added this speech to Burton’s Diary, ii. 351-371. I may remark that, 1. The protector now addressed the members by the ambiguous style of “my lords and gentlemen of the two houses of parliament.” 2. That he failed in proving the danger which, as he pretended, menaced Protestantism. If, in the north, the two Protestant states of Sweden and Denmark were at war with each other, more to the south the Catholic states of France and Spain were in the same situation. 3. That the vessels sold by the Dutch were six flutes which the English cruisers afterwards destroyed. 4. That from this moment he was constantly asserting with oaths that he sought not his present office. How could he justify such oaths in his own mind? Was it on the fallacious ground that what he in reality sought was the office of king, not of protector?]

[Footnote 2: Journals, Jan. 25, 29, Feb. 1, 3. Burton’s Diary, ii. 371-464. Thurloe, i. 766; vi. 767.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Jan. 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. Feb. 3.]

kingdom were preparing to join his standard; the leaders of opposition in parliament had combined with several officers in the army to re-establish the commonwealth, “without a single person or house of lords;” and a preparatory petition for the purpose of collecting signatures was circulated through the city. Cromwell consulted his most trusty advisers, of whom some suggested a dissolution, others objected the want of money, and the danger of irritating the people. Perhaps he had already taken his resolution, though he kept it a secret within his own breast; perhaps it might be the result of some sudden and momentary impulse;[1] but one morning[a] he unexpectedly threw himself into a carriage with two horses standing at the gates of Whitehall; and, beckoning to six of his guards to follow, ordered the coachman to drive to the parliament house. There he revealed his purpose to Fleetwood, and, when that officer ventured to remonstrate, declared, by the living God that he would dissolve the parliament. Sending for the Commons, he addressed them in an angry and expostulating tone. “They,” he said, “had placed him in the high situation in which he stood; he sought it not; there was neither man nor woman treading on English ground who could say he did. God knew that he would rather have lived under a wood side, and have tended a flock of sheep, than have undertaken the government. But, having undertaken it at their request, he had a right to look to them for aid and support. Yet some among them, God was his witness, in violation of their oaths, were attempting to establish a commonwealth

[Footnote 1: “Something happening that morning that put the protector into a rage and passion near unto madness, as those at Whitehall can witness."–Second Narrative, p. 8.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Feb. 4.]

interest in the army; some had received commissions to enlist men for Charles Stuart; and both had their emissaries at that moment seeking to raise a tumult, or rather a rebellion, in the city. But he was bound before God to prevent such disasters; and, therefore,” he concluded, “I think it high time that an end be put to your sitting; and I do dissolve this parliament; and let God judge between me and you.” “Amen, amen,” responded several voices from the ranks of the opposition.[1]

This was the fourth parliament that Cromwell had broken. The republicans indulged their resentment in murmurs, and complaints, and menaces; but the protector, secure of the fidelity of the army, despised the feeble efforts of their vengeance, and encouraged by his vigour the timidity of his counsellors. Strong patrols of infantry and cavalry paraded the streets, dispersing every assemblage of people in the open air, in private houses, and even in conventicles and churches, for the purpose, or under the pretext, of devotion. The colonel-major and several captains of his own regiment were cashiered;[2] many of the Levellers and royalists were arrested and imprisoned, or discharged upon bail; and the lord-mayor, aldermen, and common-council received from Cromwell

[Footnote 1: Journ. Feb. 4. Thurloe, vi. 778, 779, 781, 788. Parl. Hist. iii. 1525. By the oath, which Cromwell reproaches them with violating, they had sworn “to be true and faithful to the lord-protector as chief magistrate, and not to contrive, design, or attempt any thing against his person or lawful authority."]

[Footnote 2: “I,” says Hacker, “that had served him fourteen years, and had commanded a regiment seven years, without any trial or appeal, with the breath of his nostrils I was outed, and lost not only my place but a dear friend to boot. Five captains under my command were outed with me, because they could not say that was a house of lords."–Burton’s Diary, iii. 166.]

himself an account of the danger which threatened them from the invasion meditated by Charles Stuart, and a charge to watch the haunts of the discontented, and to preserve the tranquillity of the city. At the same time his agents were busy in procuring loyal and affectionate addresses from the army, the counties, and the principal towns; and these, published in the newspapers, served to overawe his enemies, and to display the stability of his power.[1]

The apprehension of invasion, to which Cromwell so frequently alluded, was not entirely groundless. On the return of the winter, the royalists had reminded Charles of his promise in the preceding spring; the king of Spain furnished an aid of one hundred and fifty thousand crowns; the harbour of Ostend was selected for the place of embarkation; and arms, ammunition, and transports were purchased in Holland. The prince himself, mastering for a while his habits of indolence and dissipation, appeared eager to redeem his pledge;[2] but the more prudent of his advisers conjured him not to risk his life on general assurances of support; and the marquess of Ormond, with the most chivalrous loyalty, offered to ascertain on the spot the real objects and resources of his adherents. Pretending to proceed on a mission to the court of the duke of Neuburg, that nobleman, accompanied by O’Neil, crossed the sea,[a] landed in disguise at Westmarch on the coast of Essex, and

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 778, 781, 788; vii. 4, 21, 32, 49, 71. Parl. Hist. iii. 1528.]

[Footnote 2: Still Ormond says to Hyde, “I fear his immoderate delight in empty, effeminate, and vulgar conversations is become an irresistible part of his nature, and will never suffer him to animate his own designs, and others’ actions, with that spirit which is requisite for his quality, and much more to his fortune."–27, Jan. 7, 1658. Clar. iii. 387.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. End of January.]

hastened to London. There, continually changing his dress and lodgings, he contrived to elude the suspicion of the spies of government, and had opportunities of conversing with men of different parties; with the royalists, who sought the restoration of the ancient monarchy; with the Levellers, who were willing that the claims of the king and the subject should be adjusted in a free parliament; with the moderate Presbyterians, who, guided by the earls of Manchester and Denbigh, with Rossiter and Sir William Waller, offered to rely on the royal promises; and the more rigid among the same religionists, who, with the lords Say and Robarts at their head, demanded the confirmation of the articles to which the late king had assented in the Isle of Wight. But from none could he procure any satisfactory assurances of support. They were unable to perform what they had promised by their agents. They had not the means, nor the courage, nor the abilities, necessary for the undertaking. The majority refused to declare themselves, till Charles should have actually landed with a respectable force; and the most sanguine required a pledge that he would be ready to sail the moment he heard of their rising, because there was no probability of their being able, without foreign aid, to make head against the protector beyond the short space of a fortnight.[1]

In these conferences Ormond frequently came in contact with Sir Richard Willis, one of the sealed knot, and standing high in the confidence of Charles.[2]

[Footnote 1: Carte’s Letters, ii. 118, 124, 130. Clar. iii. 388, 392, 395. Thurloe, i. 718.]

[Footnote 2: The knot consisted of Willis, Colonel Russell, Sir William Compton, Edward Villiers, and Mr. Broderick, according to several letters in Clarendon; according to the duke of York, of the four first, Lord Belasyse, and Lord Loughborough.–James, i. 370.]

Willis uniformly disapproved of the attempt. The king’s enemies, he observed, were now ready to unsheath their swords against each other; but let the royal banner be once unfurled, and they would suspend their present quarrel, to combine their efforts against the common enemy. Yet the author of this prudent advice was, if we may believe Clarendon, a traitor, though a traitor of a very singular description. He is said to have contracted with Cromwell, in consideration of an annual stipend, to reveal to him the projects of the king and the royalists; but on condition that he should have no personal communication with the protector, that he should never be compelled to mention any individual whose name he wished to keep secret, and that he should not be called upon to give evidence, or to furnish documents, for the conviction of any prisoner.[1] It is believed that for several years he faithfully complied with this engagement; and when he thought that Ormond had been long enough in London, he informed Cromwell of the presence of the marquess in the capital, but at the same moment conveyed advice to the marquess that orders had been issued for his apprehension. This admonition had its desired effect. Ormond stole away[b] to Shoreham in Sussex, crossed over to Dieppe, concealed himself two months in Paris, and then, travelling

[Footnote 1: This is Clarendon’s account. In Thurloe, i. 757, is a paper signed John Foster, supposed to be the original offer made to Thurloe by Willis. He there demands that no one but the protector should be acquainted with his employment; that he should never be brought forward as a witness; that the pardon of one dear friend should be granted to him; and that he should receive fifty pounds with the answer, five hundred pounds on his first interview with Thurloe, and five hundred pounds when he put into their hands any of the conspirators against Cromwell’s person.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Feb. 15.]

in disguise through France to Geneva, that he might escape the notice of Lockhart and Mazarin, returned along the Rhine to join his master in Flanders.[1]

There was little in the report of Ormond to give encouragement to Charles; his last hopes were soon afterwards extinguished by the vigilance of Cromwell. The moment the thaw opened the ports of Holland, a squadron of English frigates swept the coast,[a] captured three and drove on shore two flutes destined for the expedition, and closely blockaded the harbour of Ostend.[2] The design was again postponed till the winter;[b] and the king resolved to solicit in person a supply of money at the court of the Spanish monarch. But from this journey he was dissuaded both by Hyde and by the Cardinal de Retz, who pointed out to him the superior advantage of his residence in Flanders, where he was in readiness to seize the first propitious moment which fortune should offer. In the mean time the cardinal, through his agent in Rome, solicited from the pope pecuniary aid for the king, on condition that in the event of his ascending the throne of his fathers, he should release the Catholics of his three kingdoms from the intolerable pressure of the penal laws.[3]

The transactions of this winter, the attempt of Syndercombe, the ascendancy of the opposition in parliament,

[Footnote 1: Clar. Hist. iii. 614-618, 667. Clarendon’s narrative is so frequently inaccurate, that it is unsafe to give credit to any charge on his authority alone; but in the present instance he relates the discovery of the treachery of Willis with such circumstantial minuteness, that it requires a considerable share of incredulity to doubt of its being substantially true; and his narrative is confirmed by James II. (Mem. i. 370), and other documents to be noticed hereafter.]

[Footnote 2: Carte’s Letters, ii. 126, 135. Clar. Papers, iii. 396.]

[Footnote 3: Carte’s Letters, ii. 136-142, 145. Clar. Pap. iii. 401.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. March 15.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. April 14.]

and the preparations of the royalists to receive the exiled king, added to habitual indisposition, had soured and irritated the temper of Cromwell. He saw that to bring to trial the men who had been his associates in the cause might prove a dangerous experiment; but there was nothing to deter him from wreaking his vengeance on the royalists, and convincing them of the danger of trespassing any more on his patience by their annual projects of insurrection. In every county all who had been denounced, all who were even suspected, were put under arrest; a new high court of justice was established according to the act of 1656; and Sir Henry Slingsby, Dr. Hewet, and Mr. Mordaunt, were selected for the three first victims. Slingsby, a Catholic gentleman and a prisoner at Hull, had endeavoured to corrupt the fidelity of the officers in the garrison; who, by direction of the governor, amused the credulity of the old man, till he had the imprudence to deliver[a] to them a commission from Charles Stuart.[1] Dr. Hewet was an episcopalian divine, permitted to preach at St. Gregory’s, and had long been one of the most active and useful of the royal agents in the vicinity of the capital. Mordaunt, a younger brother of the earl of Peterborough, had also displayed his zeal for the king, by maintaining a constant correspondence with the marquess of Ormond, and distributing royal commissions to those who offered to raise men in favour of Charles. Of the truth of the charges brought against them, there could be no doubt; and, aware of their danger, they strongly protested against the legality of the court, demanded a trial by jury, and appealed to Magna Charta and several acts of parliament. Slingsby at last pleaded, and was condemned; Hewet, under the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 777, 780, 786, 870; vii. 46, 47, 98.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. April 2.]

pretence that to plead was to betray the liberties of Englishmen, stood mute; and his silence, according to a recent act, was taken for a confession of guilt. Mordaunt was more fortunate. Stapeley, who, to save his own life, swore against him, proved an unwilling witness; and Mallory, who was to have supported the evidence of Stapeley, had four days before been bribed to abscond. This deficiency was gladly laid hold of by the majority of the judges, who gave their opinion[a] that his guilt was not proved; and, for similar reasons, some days later acquitted two other conspirators, Sir Humphrey Bennet and Captain Woodcock. The fact is, they were weary of an office which exposed them to the censure of the public; for the court was viewed with hatred by the people. It abolished the trial by jury; it admitted no inquest or presentment by the oaths of good and faithful men; it deprived the accused of the benefit of challenge; and its proceedings were contrary to the law of treason, the petition of right, and the very oath of government taken by the protector. Cromwell, dissatisfied with these acquittals, yielded to the advice of the council, and sent the rest of the prisoners before the usual courts of law, where several were found guilty, and condemned to suffer the penalties of treason.[1]

Great exertions were made to save the lives of Slingsby and Hewet. In favour of the first, it was urged that he had never been suffered to compound, had never submitted to the commonwealth, and had

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 673, 674. Thurloe, vii. 159, 164. State Trials, v. 871, 883, 907. These trials are more interesting in Clarendon, but much of his narrative is certainly, and more of it probably, fictitious. It is not true that Slingsby’s offence was committed two years before, nor that Hewet was accused of visiting the king in Flanders, nor that Mallory escaped out of the hall on the morning of the trial (See Claren. Hist. iii. 619-624.) Mallory’s own account of his escape is in Thurloe, vii. 194-220.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. June 9.]

been for years deprived both of his property and liberty, so that his conduct should be rather considered as the attempt of a prisoner of war to regain his freedom, than of a subject to overturn the government. This reasoning was urged[a] by his nephew, Lord Falconberg, who, by his recent marriage with Mary Cromwell, was believed to possess considerable influence with her father. The interest of Dr. Hewet was espoused by a more powerful advocate–by Elizabeth, the best-beloved of Cromwell’s daughters, who at the same time was in a delicate and precarious state of health. But it was in vain that she interceded for the man whose spiritual ministry she employed; Cromwell was inexorable. He resolved[b] that blood should be shed, and that the royalists should learn to fear his resentment, since they had not been won by his forbearance. Both suffered death by decapitation.[1]

During the winter, the gains and losses of the hostile armies in Flanders had been nearly balanced. If, on the one hand, the duke of York was repulsed with loss in his attempt to storm by night the works at Mardyke; on the other, the Marshal D’Aumont was made prisoner with fifteen hundred men by the Spanish governor of Ostend, who, under the pretence of delivering up the place, had decoyed him within the fortifications. In February, the offensive treaty

[Footnote 1: Ludlow, ii. 149. I think there is some reason to question those sentiments of loyalty to the house of Stuart, and that affliction and displeasure on account of the execution of Hewet, which writers attribute to Elizabeth Claypole. In a letter written by her to her sister-in-law, the wife of H. Cromwell, and dated only four days after the death of Hewet, she calls on her to return thanks to God for their deliverence from Hewet’s conspiracy: “for sertingly not ondly his (Cromwell’s) famely would have bin ruined, but in all probabillyti the hol nation would have his invold in blod."–June 13. Thurloe, vii. 171.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. Nov. 19.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. June 8.]

between France and England was renewed for another year; three thousand men, drafted from different regiments, were sent by the protector to supply the deficiency in the number of his forces; and the combined army opened the campaign with the siege of Dunkirk. By the Spaniards the intelligence was received with surprise and apprehension. Deceived by false information, they had employed all their efforts to provide for the safety of Cambray. The repeated warnings given by Charles had been neglected; the extensive works at Dunkirk remained in an unfinished state; and the defence of the place had been left to its ordinary garrison of no more than one thousand men, and these but scantily supplied with stores and provisions. To repair his error, Don Juan, with the consent of his mentor, the Marquess Caracena, resolved to hazard a battle; and, collecting a force of six thousand infantry and four thousand cavalry, encamped between the village of Zudcote and the lines of the besiegers. But Turenne, aware of the defective organization of the Spanish armies, resolved to prevent the threatened attack; and the very next morning, before the Spanish cannon and ammunition had reached the camp, the allied force was seen advancing in battle array. Don Juan hastily placed his men along a ridge of sand-hills which extended from the sea coast to the canal, giving the command of the right wing to the duke of York, of the left to the prince of Condé, and reserving the centre to himself. The battle was begun by the English, who found themselves opposed to their countryman, the duke of York. They were led by Major-General Morgan; for Lockhart, who acted both as ambassador and commander-in-chief, was confined by indisposition to his carriage. Their ardour to distinguish themselves in the presence of the two rival nations carried them considerably in advance of their allies; but, having halted to gain breath at the foot of the opposite sand-hill, they mounted with impetuosity, received the fire of the enemy, and, at the point of the pike, drove them from their position. The duke immediately charged at the head of the Spanish cavalry; but one half of his men were mowed down by a well-directed fire of musketry; and James himself owed the preservation of his life to the temper of his armour. The advantage, however, was dearly purchased: in Lockhart’s regiment scarcely an officer remained to take the command.

By this time the action had commenced on the left, where the prince of Condé, after some sharp fighting, was compelled to retreat by the bank of the canal. The centre was never engaged; for the regiment, on its extreme left, seeing itself flanked by the French in pursuit of Condé, precipitately abandoned its position, and the example was successively imitated by the whole line. But, in the meanwhile, the duke of York had rallied his broken infantry, and while they faced the English, he charged the latter in flank at the head of his company of horse-guards. Though thrown into disorder, they continued to fight, employing the butt-ends of their muskets against the swords of their adversaries, and in a few minutes several squadrons of French cavalry arrived to their aid. James was surrounded; and, in despair of saving himself by flight, he boldly assumed the character of a French officer; rode at the head of twenty troopers toward the right of their army; and, carefully threading the different corps, arrived without exciting suspicion at the bank of the canal, by which he speedily effected his escape to Furnes.[1] The victory on the part of the allies was complete. The Spanish cavalry made no effort to protect the retreat of their infantry; every regiment of which was successively surrounded by the pursuers, and compelled to surrender. By Turenne and his officers the chief merit of this brilliant success was cheerfully allotted to the courage and steadiness of the English regiments; at Whitehall it was attributed to the prayers of the lord-protector, who, on that very day, observed with his council a solemn fast to implore the blessing of heaven on the operations of the allied army.[2]

Unable to oppose their enemies in the field, the Spanish generals proposed to retard their progress by the most obstinate defence of the different fortresses. The prince de Ligne undertook that of Ipres; the care of Newport, Bruges, and Ostend was committed to the duke of York; and Don Juan returned to Brussels to hasten new levies from the different provinces. Within a fortnight Dunkirk capitulated,[a] and the king of France, having taken possession, delivered the keys with his own hand to the English ambassador. Gravelines was soon afterwards reduced;[b] the prince de Ligne suffered himself to be surprised by the

[Footnote 1: See the account of this battle by James himself, in his Memoirs, i. 338-358; also Thurloe, vii. 155, 156, 159.]

[Footnote 2: “Truly,” says Thurloe, “I never was present at any such exercise, where I saw a greater spirit of faith and prayer poured forth."–Ibid. 158. “The Lord,” says Fleetwood, “did draw forth his highness’s heart, to set apart that day to seek the Lord; and indeed there was a very good spirit appearing. Whilst we were praying, they were fighting; and the Lord hath given a signal answer. And the Lord hath not only owned us in our work there, but in our waiting upon him in our way of prayer, which is indeed our old experienced approved way in all our straits and difficulties."–Ibid. 159.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. June 17.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. August 20.]

superior activity of Turenne; Ipres opened its gates, and all the towns on the banks of the Lys successively submitted to the conquerors. Seldom, perhaps, had there occurred a campaign more disastrous to the Spanish arms.[1]

In the eyes of the superficial observer, Cromwell might now appear to have reached the zenith of power and greatness. At home he had discovered, defeated, and punished all the conspiracies against him; abroad, his army had gained laurels in the field; his fleets swept the seas; his friendship was sought by every power; and his mediation was employed in settling the differences between both Portugal and Holland, and the king of Sweden and the elector of Brandenburg. He had recently sent Lord Falconberg to compliment Louis XIV. on his arrival at Calais; and in a few days, was visited by the duke of Crequi, who brought him a magnificent sword as a present from that prince, and by Mancini, with another present of tapestry from his uncle, the Cardinal Mazarin. But, above all, he was now in possession of Dunkirk, the great object of his foreign policy for the last two years, the opening through which he was to accomplish the designs of Providence on the continent. The real fact, however, was that his authority in England never rested on a more precarious footing than at the present moment; while, on the other hand, the cares and anxieties of government, joined to his apprehensions of personal violence, and the pressure of domestic affliction, were

[Footnote 1: James, Memoirs, i. 359. Thurloe, vii. 169, 176, 215. If we may believe Temple (ii. 545), Cromwell now saw his error in aiding the French, and made an offer of uniting his forces with those of Spain, provided the siege of Calais were made the first attempt of the combined army.]

rapidly undermining his constitution, and hurrying him from the gay and glittering visions of ambition to the darkness and silence of the tomb.

1. Cromwell was now reduced to that situation which, to the late unfortunate monarch, had proved the source of so many calamities. His expenditure far outran his income. Though the last parliament had made provision, ample provision, as it was then thought, for the splendour of his establishment, and for all the charges of the war, he had already contracted enormous debts; his exchequer was frequently drained to the last shilling; and his ministers were compelled to go a-begging–such is the expression of the secretary of state–for the temporary loan of a few thousand pounds, with the cheerless anticipation of a refusal.[1] He looked on the army, the greater part of which he had quartered in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, as his chief–his only support against his enemies; and while the soldiers were comfortably clothed and fed, he might with confidence rely on their attachment; but now that their pay was in arrear, he had reason to apprehend that discontent might induce them to listen to the suggestions of those officers who sought to subvert his power. On former occasions, indeed, he had relieved himself from similar embarrassments by the imposition of taxes by his own authority; but this practice was so strongly reprobated in the petition and advice, and he had recently abjured it with so much solemnity, that he dared not repeat the experiment. He attempted to raise a loan among the merchants and capitalists in the city; but his credit and popularity were gone; he had, by plunging into

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 99, 100, 144, 295.]

war with Spain, cut off one of the most plentiful sources of profit, the Spanish trade; and the number of prizes made by the enemy, amounting to more than a thousand,[1] had ruined many opulent houses. The application was eluded by a demand of security on the landed property belonging to country gentlemen. There remained a third expedient,–an application to parliament. But Cromwell, like the first Charles, had learned to dread the very name of a parliament. Three of these assemblies he had moulded according to his own plan, and yet not one of them could he render obsequious to his will. Urged, however, by the ceaseless importunities of Thurloe, he appointed[a] nine councillors to inquire into the means of defeating the intrigues of the republicans in a future parliament; the manner of raising a permanent revenue from the estates of the royalists; and the best method of determining the succession to the protectorate. But among the nine were two who, aware of his increasing infirmities, began to cherish projects of their own aggrandizement, and who, therefore, made it their care to perplex and to prolong the deliberations. The committee sat three weeks. On the two first questions they came to no conclusion; with respect to the third, they voted, on a division, that the choice between an elective and an hereditary succession was a matter of indifference. Suspicious of their motives, Cromwell dissolved[b] the committee.[2] But he substituted no

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 662.]

[Footnote 2: Ibid. 146, 176, 192, 269. The committee consisted, in Thurloe’s words, of Lord Fiennes, Lord Fleetwood, Lord Desborow, Lord Chamberlayne, Lord Whalley, Mr. Comptroller, Lord Goffe, Lord Cooper, and himself (p. 192). On this selection Henry Cromwell observes: “The wise men were but seven; it seems you have made them nine. And having heard their names, I think myself better able to guess what they’ll do than a much wiser man; for no very wise man can ever imagine it” (p. 217).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658 June 16.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658 July 8.]

council in its place; things were allowed to take their course; the embarrassment of the treasury increased; and the irresolution of the protector, joined to the dangers which threatened the government, shook the confidence of Thurloe himself. It was only when he looked up to heaven that he discovered a gleam of hope, in the persuasion that the God who had befriended Cromwell through life, would not desert him at the close of his career.[1][a]

2. To the cares of government must be added his constant dread of assassination. It is certainly extraordinary that, while so many conspiracies are said to have been formed, no attempt was actually made against his person; but the fact that such designs had existed, and the knowledge that his death was of the first importance to his enemies, convinced him that he could never be secure from danger. He multiplied his precautions. We are told that he wore defensive armour under his clothes; carried loaded pistols in his pockets; sought to remain in privacy; and, when he found it necessary to give audience, sternly watched the eyes and gestures of those who addressed him. He was careful that his own motions should not be known beforehand. His carriage was filled with attendants; a numerous escort accompanied him; and he proceeded at full speed, frequently diverging from the road to the right or left, and generally returning by a different route. In his palace he often inspected the nightly watch, changed his bed-chamber, and was careful that, besides the principal door, there should be some other egress, for the facility

[Footnote 1: Ibid. 153, 282, 295.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. July 27.]

of escape. He had often faced death without flinching in the field; but his spirit broke under the continual fear of unknown and invisible foes. He passed the nights in a state of feverish anxiety; sleep fled from his pillow; and for more than a year before his death we always find the absence of rest assigned as either the cause which produced, or a circumstance which aggravated, his numerous ailments.[1]

3. The selfishness of ambition does not exclude the more kindly feelings of domestic affection. Cromwell was sincerely attached to his children; but, among them, he gave the preference to his daughter Elizabeth Claypole. The meek disposition of the young woman possessed singular charms for the overbearing spirit of her father; and her timid piety readily received lessons on mystical theology from the superior experience of the lord-general.[2] But she was now dying of a most painful and internal complaint, imperfectly understood by her physicians; and her grief for the loss of her infant child added to the poignancy of her sufferings. Cromwell abandoned the business of state that he might hasten to Hampton Court, to

[Footnote 1: So says Clarendon (iii. 646), Bates (Elench. 343), and Welwood (p. 94); but their testimony can prove nothing more than that such reports were current, and obtained credit, among the royalists.]

[Footnote 2: The following passage from one of Cromwell’s letters to his daughter Ireton, will perhaps surprise the reader. “Your sister Claypole is (I trust in mercye) exercised with some perplexed thoughts, shee sees her owne vanitye and carnal minde, bewailinge itt, shee seeks after (as I hope alsoe) that w’ch will satisfie, and thus to bee a seeker, is to be of the best sect next a finder, and such an one shall every faythfull humble seeker bee at the end. Happie seeker; happie finder. Who ever tasted that the Lord is gracious, without some sense of self-vanitye and badness? Who ever tasted that graciousnesse of his, and could goe lesse in desier, and lesse than pressinge after full enjoyment? Deere hart presse on: lett not husband, lett not anythinge coole thy affections after Christ,” &c. &c. &c.–Harris, iii. App. 515, edit. 1814.]

console his favourite daughter. He frequently visited her, remained long in her apartment, and, whenever he quitted it, seemed to be absorbed in the deepest melancholy. It is not probable that the subject of their private conversation was exposed to the profane ears of strangers. We are, however, told that she expressed to him her doubts of the justice of the good old cause, that she exhorted him to restore the sovereign authority to the rightful owner, and that, occasionally, when her mind was wandering, she alarmed him by uttering cries of “blood,” and predictions of vengeance.[1]

4. Elizabeth died.[a] The protector was already confined to his bed with the gout, and, though he had anticipated the event, some days elapsed before he recovered from the shock. A slow fever still remained, which was pronounced a bastard tertian.[b] One of his physicians whispered to another, that his pulse was intermittent;[c] the words caught the ears of the sick man; he turned pale, a cold perspiration covered his face; and, requesting to be placed in bed, he executed his private will. The next morning he had recovered his usual composure; and when he received the visit of his physician,[d] ordering all his attendants to quit the room but his wife, whom he held by the hand, he said to him: “Do not think that I shall die; I am sure of the contrary.” Observing the surprise which these words excited, he continued: “Say not that I have lost my reason: I tell you the truth. I know it from better authority than any which you can have from Galen or Hippocrates. It is the answer of God himself to our prayers; not to mine alone, but to those of others who have a more intimate

[Footnote 1: Clar. Hist. iii. 647. Bulstrode, 205. Heath, 408.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. August 6.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. August 17.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1658. August 24.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1658. August 25.]

interest in him than I have."[1] The same communication was made to Thurloe, and to the different members of the protector’s family; nor did it fail to obtain credit among men who believed that “in other instances he had been favoured with similar assurances, and that they had never deceived him."[2] Hence his chaplain Goodwin exclaimed, “O Lord, we pray not for his recovery; that thou hast granted already; what we now beg is his speedyrecovery."[3]

In a few days, however, their confidence was shaken. For change of air he had removed to Whitehall, till the palace of St. James’s should be ready for his reception. There his fever became[a] a double tertian, and his strength rapidly wasted away. Who, it was asked, was to succeed him? On the day of his inauguration he had written the name of his successor within a cover sealed with the protectorial arms; but that paper had been lost, or purloined, or destroyed. Thurloe undertook to suggest to him a second nomination; but the condition of the protector, who, if we believe him, was always insensible or delirious, afforded no opportunity. A suspicion, however, existed, that he had private reasons for declining to interfere in so delicate a business.[4]

The 30th of August was a tempestuous day: during the night the violence of the wind increased till it blew a hurricane. Trees were torn from their roots in the park, and houses unroofed in the city. This extraordinary occurrence at a moment when it was thought that the protector was dying, could not fail

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 321, 340, 354, 355. Bates, Elench. 413.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vii. 355, 367, 376.]

[Footnote 3: Ludlow, ii. 151.]

[Footnote 4: Thurloe, 355, 365, 366.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658 August 28.]

of exciting remarks in a superstitious age; and, though the storm reached to the coasts of the Mediterranean, in England it was universally referred to the death-bed of the protector. His friends asserted that God would not remove so great a man from this world without previously warning the nation of its approaching loss; the Cavaliers more maliciously maintained that the devils, “the princes of the air,” were congregating over Whitehall, that they might pounce on the protector’s soul.[1]

On the third night afterwards,[a] Cromwell had a lucid interval of considerable duration. It might have been expected that a man of his religious disposition would have felt some compunctious visitings, when from the bed of death he looked back on the strange eventful career of his past life. But he had adopted a doctrine admirably calculated to lull and tranquillize the misgivings of conscience. “Tell me,” said he to Sterry, one of his chaplains, “Is it possible to fall from grace?” “It is not possible,” replied the minister. “Then,” exclaimed the dying man, “I am safe; for I know that I was once in grace.” Under this impression he prayed, not for himself, but for God’s people. “Lord,” he said, “though a miserable and wretched creature, I am in covenant with thee through thy grace, and may and will come to thee for thy people. Thou hast made me a mean instrument to do them some good, and thee service. Many of them set too high a value upon me, though others would be glad of my death. Lord, however thou disposest of me, continue, and go on to do good for them. Teach those who look too much upon thy instruments, to depend more upon thyself,

[Footnote 1: Clar. 646. Bulstrode, 207. Heath, 408. Noble, i. 147, note.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Sept. 2.]

and pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a poor worm, for they are thy people too."[1]

Early in the following morning,[a] he relapsed into a state of insensibility. It was his fortunate day, the 3rd of September, a circumstance from which his sorrowing relatives derived a new source of consolation. It was, they observed, on the 3rd of September that he overcame the Scots at Dunbar; on that day, he also overcame the royalists at Worcester; and on the same day, he was destined to overcome his spiritual enemies, and to receive the crown of victory in heaven. About four in the afternoon he breathed his last, amidst the tears and lamentations of his attendants. “Cease to weep,” exclaimed the fanatical Sterry, “you have more reason to rejoice. He was your protector here; he will prove a still more powerful protector, now that he is with Christ at the right hand of the Father.” With a similar confidence in Cromwell’s sanctity, though in a somewhat lower tone of enthusiasm, the grave and cautious Thurloe announced the event by letter to the deputy of Ireland. "He is gone to heaven, embalmed with the tears of his people, and upon the wings of the prayers of the saints."[2]

Till the commencement of the present century, when that wonderful man arose, who, by the splendour of his victories and the extent of his empire, cast all preceding adventurers into the shade, the name of Cromwell stood without a parallel in the history of civilized Europe. Men looked with a feeling of awe on the

[Footnote 1: Collection of Passages concerning his late Highness in Time of his Sickness, p. 12. The author was Underwood, groom of the bed-chamber. See also a letter of H. Cromwell, Thurloe, vii. 454; Ludlow, ii. 153.]

[Footnote 2: Ludlow, ii. 153. Thurloe, vii. 373.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Sept. 3.]

fortunate individual who, without the aid of birth, or wealth, or connections, was able to seize the government of three powerful kingdoms, and to impose the yoke of servitude on the necks of the very men who had fought in his company to emancipate themselves from the less arbitrary sway of their hereditary sovereign. That he who accomplished this was no ordinary personage, all must admit; and yet, on close investigation, we shall discover little that was sublime or dazzling in his character. Cromwell was not the meteor which surprises and astounds by the rapidity and brilliancy of its course. Cool, cautious, calculating, he stole on with slow and measured pace; and, while with secret pleasure he toiled up the ascent to greatness, laboured to persuade the spectators that he was reluctantly borne forward by an exterior and resistless force, by the march of events, the necessities of the state, the will of the army, and even the decree of the Almighty. He seems to have looked upon dissimulation as the perfection of human wisdom, and to have made it the key-stone of the arch on which he built his fortunes.[1] The aspirations of his ambition were concealed under the pretence of attachment to “the good old cause;” and his secret workings to acquire the sovereignty for himself and his family were represented as endeavours to secure for his former brethren in arms the blessings of civil and religious freedom, the two great objects which originally called them into the field. Thus his whole conduct was made up of artifice and deceit. He laid his plans long beforehand; he studied the views and dispositions of all from whose influence he had any thing to hope or fear; and he

[Footnote 1: See proofs of his dissimulation in Harris, iii. 93-103; Hutchinson, 313.]

employed every expedient to win their affections, to make them the blind unconscious tools of his policy. For this purpose he asked questions, or threw out insinuations in their hearing; now kept them aloof with an air of reserve and dignity; now put them off their guard by condescension, perhaps by buffoonery;[1] at one time, addressed himself to their vanity or avarice; at another, exposed to them with tears (for tears he had at will), the calamities of the nation; and then, when he found them moulded to his purpose, instead of assenting to the advice which he had himself suggested, feigned reluctance, urged objections, and pleaded scruples of conscience. At length he yielded; but it was not till he had acquired by his resistance the praise of moderation, and the right of attributing his acquiescence to the importunity of others instead of his own ambition.[2]

Exposed as he was to the continued machinations of the royalists and Levellers, both equally eager to precipitate him from the height to which he had attained, Cromwell made it his great object to secure to himself the attachment of the army. To it he owed the acquisition, through it alone could he insure the permanence, of his power. Now, fortunately for this purpose, that army, composed as never was army before or since, revered in the lord-protector what it valued mostly in itself, the cant and practice of religious enthusiasm. The superior officers, the subalterns, the privates, all held themselves forth as professors of godliness. Among them every public breach of morality was severely punished; the exercises of religious worship

[Footnote 1: See instances in Bates, Elenc. 344; Cowley, 95; Ludlow, i. 207; Whitelock, 656; State Trials, v. 1131, 1199.]

[Footnote 2: See Ludlow, i. 272; ii. 13, 14, 17.]

were of as frequent recurrence as those of military duty;[1] in council, the officers always opened the proceedings with extemporary prayer; and to implore with due solemnity the protection of the Lord of Hosts, was held an indispensable part of the preparation for battle. Their cause they considered the cause of God; if they fought, it was for his glory; if they conquered, it was by the might of his arm. Among these enthusiasts, Cromwell, as he held the first place in rank, was also pre-eminent in spiritual gifts.[2] The fervour with which he prayed, the unction with which he preached, excited their admiration and tears. They looked on him as the favourite of God, under the special guidance of the Holy Spirit, and honoured with communications from heaven; and he, on his part, was careful, by the piety of his language, by the strict decorum of his court, and by his zeal for the diffusion of godliness, to preserve and strengthen such impressions. In minds thus disposed, it was not difficult to create a persuasion that the final triumph of “their cause” depended on the authority of the general under whom they had conquered; while the full enjoyment of that religious freedom which they so highly prized rendered them less jealous of the arbitrary power which he occasionally

[Footnote 1: “The discipline of the army was such that a man would not be suffered to remain there, of whom we could take notice he was guilty of such practices."–Cromwell’s speech to parliament in 1654. It surprised strangers.–Certa singulis diebus tum fundendis Deo precibus, tum audiendis Dei praeconiis erant assignata tempora.–Parallelum Olivae apud Harris, iii. 12. E certo ad ogni modo, che le Truppe vivono con tanta esatezza, come se fossero fraterie de’ religiosi.–Sagredo, MS.]

[Footnote 2: Religioso al estremo nell’ esteriore, predica con eloquenza ai soldati, li persuade a vivere secondo le legge d’ Iddio, e per render più efficace la persuasione, si serve ben spesso delle lagrime, piangendo più li peccati altrui, che li proprii.–Ibid. See also Ludlow, iii. 111.]

assumed. In his public speeches, he perpetually reminded them that, if religion was not the original cause of the late civil war, yet, God “soon brought it to that issue;” that amidst the strife of battle, and the difficulties and dangers of war, the reward to which they looked was freedom of conscience; that this freedom to its full extent they enjoyed under his government, though they could never obtain it till they had placed the supreme authority in his hands.[1] The merit which he thus arrogated to himself was admitted to be his due by the great body of the saints; it became the spell by which he rendered them blind to his ambition and obedient to his will; the engine with which he raised, and afterwards secured, the fabric of his greatness.

On the subject of civil freedom, the protector could not assume so bold a tone. He acknowledged, indeed, its importance; it was second only to religious freedom; but if second, then, in the event of competition, it ought to yield to the first. He contended that, under his government, every provision had been made for the preservation of the rights of individuals, so far as was consistent with the safety of the whole nation. He had reformed the Chancery, he had laboured to abolish the abuses of the law, he had placed learned and upright judges on the bench, and he had been careful in all ordinary cases that impartial justice should be administered between the parties. This indeed was true; but it was also true that by his orders men were arrested and committed without lawful cause; that juries were packed; that prisoners, acquitted at their trial, were sent into confinement beyond the

[Footnote 1: See in particular his speech to his second parliament, printed by Henry Hills, 1654.]

jurisdiction of the courts; that taxes had been raised without the authority of parliament; that a most unconstitutional tribunal, the high court of justice, had been established; and that the majors-general had been invested with powers the most arbitrary and oppressive.[1] These acts of despotism put him on his defence; and in apology he pleaded, as every despot will plead, reasons of state, the necessity of sacrificing a part to preserve the whole, and his conviction, that a “people blessed by God, the regenerated ones of several judgments forming the flock and lambs of Christ, would prefer their safety to their passions, and their real security to forms.” Nor was this reasoning addressed in vain to men who had surrendered their judgments into his keeping, and who felt little for the wrongs of others, as long as such wrongs were represented necessary for their own welfare.

Some writers have maintained that Cromwell dissembled in religion as well as in politics; and that, when he condescended to act the part of the saint, he assumed for interested purposes a character which he otherwise despised. But this supposition is contradicted by the uniform tenor of his life. Long before he turned his attention to the disputes between the king and the parliament, religious enthusiasm had made a deep impression on his mind;[2] it continually manifested itself during his long career, both in the senate and the field; and it was strikingly displayed in his speeches and prayers on the last evening of his

[Footnote 1: “Judge Rolles,” says Challoner, “was shuffled out of his place. Three worthy lawyers were sent to the Tower. It cost them fifty pounds a-piece for pleading a client’s cause. One Portman was imprisoned two or three years without cause. Several persons were taken out of their beds, and carried none knows whither."–Burton’s Diary, iv. 47.

[Footnote 2: Warwick, 249.]

life. It should, however, be observed, that he made his religion harmonize with his ambition. If he believed that the cause in which he had embarked was the cause of God, he also believed that God had chosen him to be the successful champion of that cause. Thus the honour of God was identified with his own advancement, and the arts, which his policy suggested, were sanctified in his eyes by the ulterior object at which he aimed–the diffusion of godliness, and the establishment of the reign of Christ among mankind.[1]

[Footnote 1: The Venetian ambassador observes that during the protectorate London wore the appearance of a garrison town, where nothing was to be seen but the marching of soldiers, nothing to be heard but the sound of drums and trumpets. Il decoro et grandezza di Londra ha molto cangiato di faccia, la nobiltà, che la rendeva conspicua, sta divisa per la campagna, et la delecatezza della corte la più sontuosa et la più allegre del mondo, frequentata da principali dame, et abundante nelli più scelti trattenementi, e cangiata al presente in una perpetua marchia et contramarchia, in un incessante strepito di tamburri, e di trembe, et in stuoio numerosi di soldati et officiali diversi ai posti.–Sagredo. See also an intercepted letter in Thurloe, ii. 670.]

Chapter VIII.

Richard Cromwell Protector–Parliament Called–Dissolved–Military Government–Long Parliament Restored–Expelled Again–Reinstated–Monk In London–Re-Admission Of Secluded Members–Long Parliament Dissolved–The Convention Parliament–Restoration Of Charles II.

By his wife, Elizabeth Bourchier, Cromwell left two sons, Richard and Henry. There was a remarkable contrast in the opening career of these young men. During the civil war, Richard lived in the Temple, frequented the company of the Cavaliers, and spent his time in gaiety and debauchery. Henry repaired to his father’s quarters, and so rapid was his promotion, that at the age of twenty he held the commission of captain in the regiment of guards belonging to Fairfax, the lord-general. After the establishment of the commonwealth, Richard married, and, retiring to the house of his father-in-law, at Hursley in Hampshire, devoted himself to the usual pursuits of a country gentleman. Henry accompanied his father in the reduction of Ireland, which country he afterwards governed, first with the rank of major-general, afterwards with that of lord-deputy. It was not till the second year of the protectorate that Cromwell seemed to recollect that he had an elder son. He made him a lord of trade, then chancellor of the university of Oxford, and lastly a member of the new house of peers. As these honours were far inferior to those which he lavished on other persons connected with his family, it was inferred that he entertained a mean opinion of Richard’s abilities. A more probable conclusion is, that he feared to alarm the jealousy of his officers, and carefully abstained from doing that which might confirm the general suspicion, that he designed to make the protectorship hereditary in his family.[1]

The moment he expired, the council assembled, and the result of their deliberation was an order to proclaim Richard Cromwell protector, on the ground that he had been declared by his late highness his successor in that dignity.[2] Not a murmur of opposition was heard; the ceremony was performed in all places after the usual manner of announcing the accession of a new sovereign; and addresses of condolence and congratulation poured in from the army and

[Footnote 1: “The Lord knows my desire was for Harry and his brother to have lived private lives in the country, and Harry knows this very well; and how difficultly I was persuaded to give him his commission for Ireland."–Letter to Fleetwood, 22nd June, 1655.]

[Footnote 2: There appears good reason to doubt this assertion. Thurloe indeed (vii. 372) informs Henry Cromwell that his father named Richard to succeed on the preceding Monday. But his letter was written after the proclamation of Richard, and its contents are irreconcilable with the letters written before it. We have one from Lord Falconberg, dated on Monday, saying that no nomination had been made, and that Thurloe had promised to suggest it, but probably would not perform his promise (ibid. 365); and another from Thurloe himself to Henry Cromwell, stating the same thing as to the nomination.–Ibid. 364. It may perhaps be said that Richard was named on the Monday after the letters were written; but there is a second letter from Thurloe, dated on the Tuesday, stating that the protector was still incapable of public business, and that matters would, he feared, remain till the death of his highness in the same state as he described them in his letter of Monday.–Ibid. 366. It was afterwards said that the nomination took place on the night before the protector’s death, in the presence of four of the council (Falconberg in Thurloe, 375, and Barwick, ibid. 415); but the latter adds that many doubt whether it ever took place at all.]

navy, from one hundred congregational churches, and from the boroughs, cities, and counties. It seemed as if free-born Britons had been converted into a nation of slaves. These compositions were drawn up in the highest strain of adulation, adorned with forced allusions from Scripture, and with all the extravagance of Oriental hyperbole. “Their sun was set, but no night had followed. They had lost the nursing father, by whose hand the yoke of bondage had been broken from the necks and consciences of the godly. Providence by one sad stroke had taken away the breath from their nostrils, and smitten the head from their shoulders; but had given them in return the noblest branch of that renowned stock, a prince distinguished by the lovely composition of his person, but still more by the eminent qualities of his mind. The late protector had been a Moses to lead God’s people out of the land of Egypt; his son would be a Joshua to conduct them into a more full possession of truth and righteousness. Elijah had been taken into heaven: Elisha remained on earth, the inheritor of his mantle and his spirit!"[1]

The royalists, who had persuaded themselves that the whole fabric of the protectorial power would fall in pieces on the death of Cromwell, beheld with amazement the general acquiescence in the succession, of Richard; and the foreign princes, who had deemed it prudent to solicit the friendship of the father, now

[Footnote 1: The Scottish ministers in Edinburgh, instead of joining in these addresses, prayed on the following Sunday, “that the Lord would be merciful to the exiled, and those that were in captivity, and cause them to return with sheaves of joy; that he would deliver all his people from the yoke of Pharaoh, and task-masters of Egypt, and that he would cut off their oppressors, and hasten the time of their deliverance."–Thurloe, vii. 416.]

hastened to offer their congratulations to his son. Yet, fair and tranquil as the prospect appeared, an experienced eye might easily detect the elements of an approaching storm. Meetings were clandestinely held by the officers;[a] doubts were whispered of the nomination of Richard by his father; and an opinion was encouraged among the military that, as the commonwealth was the work of the army, so the chief office in the commonwealth belonged to the commander of the army. On this account the protectorship had been bestowed on Cromwell; but his son was one who had never drawn his sword in the cause; and to suffer the supreme power to devolve on him was to disgrace, to disinherit, the men who had suffered so severely, and bled so profusely, in the contest.

These complaints had probably been suggested, they were certainly fomented, by Fleetwood and his friends, the colonels Cooper, Berry, and Sydenham. Fleetwood was brave in the field, but irresolute in council; eager for the acquisition of power, but continually checked by scruples of conscience; attached by principle to republicanism, but ready to acquiesce in every change, under the pretence of submission to the decrees of Providence. Cromwell, who knew the man, had raised him to the second command in the army, and fed his ambition with distant and delusive hopes of succeeding to the supreme magistracy. The protector died, and Fleetwood, instead of acting, hesitated, prayed, and consulted; the propitious moment was suffered to pass by; he assented to the opinion of the council in favour of Richard; and then, repenting of his weakness, sought to indemnify himself for the loss by confining the

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Sept. 14.]

authority of the protector to the civil administration, and procuring for himself the sole, uncontrolled command of the army. Under the late government, the meetings of military officers had been discountenanced and forbidden; now they were encouraged to meet and consult; and, in a body of more than two hundred individuals, they presented to Richard a petition, by which they demanded that no officer should be deprived, but by sentence of a court-martial, and that the chief command of the forces, and the disposal of commissions, should be conferred on some person whose past services had proved his attachment to the cause. There were not wanting those who advised the protector to extinguish the hopes of the factious at once by arresting and imprisoning the chiefs; but more moderate counsels prevailed, and in a firm but conciliatory speech,[a] the composition of Secretary Thurloe, he replied that, to gratify their wishes, he had appointed his relative, Fleetwood, lieutenant-general of all the forces; but that to divest himself of the chief command, and of the right of giving or resuming commissions, would be to act in defiance of the “petition and advice,” the instrument by which he held the supreme authority. For a short time they appeared satisfied; but the chief officers continued to hold meetings in the chapel at St. James’s, ostensibly for the purpose of prayer, but in reality for the convenience of deliberation. Fresh jealousies were excited; it was said that another commander (Henry Cromwell was meant) would be placed above Fleetwood; Thurloe, Pierrepoint, and St. John were denounced as evil counsellors; and it became evident to all attentive observers that the two parties must soon come into collision. The protector could depend on the armies

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Oct. 14.]

in Ireland and Scotland. In Ireland, his brother Henry governed without an opponent; in Scotland, Monk, by his judicious separation of the troops, and his vigilance in the enforcement of discipline, had deprived the discontented of the means of holding meetings and of corresponding with each other. In England he was assured of the services of eight colonels, and therefore, as it was erroneously supposed, of their respective regiments, forming one half of the regular force. But his opponents were masters of the other half, constituted the majority in the council, and daily augmented their numbers by the accession of men who secretly leaned to republican principles, or sought to make an interest in that party which they considered the more likely to prevail in the approaching struggle.[1]

From the notice of these intrigues the public attention was withdrawn by the obsequies of the late protector. It was resolved that they should exceed in magnificence those of any former sovereign, and with that view they were conducted according to the ceremonial observed at the interment of Philip II. of Spain. Somerset House was selected for the first part of the exhibition. The spectators, having passed through three rooms hung with black cloth, were admitted[a] into the funereal chamber; where, surrounded with wax-lights, was seen an effigy of Cromwell clothed in royal robes, and lying on a bed of state,

[Footnote 1: For these particulars, see the letters in Thurloe, vii. 386, 406, 413, 415, 424, 426, 427, 428, 447. 450, 452, 453, 454, 463, 490, 491, 492, 493, 495, 496, 497, 498, 500, 510, 511. So great was the jealousy between the parties, that Richard and his brother Henry dared not correspond by letter. “I doubt not all the letters will be opened, which come either to or from your highness, which can be suspected to contain business” (454). For the principle now professed by the Levellers, see note (I).]

[Sidenote b: A.D. 1658. Sept. 26.]

which covered, or was supposed to cover, the coffin. On each side lay different parts of his armour: in one hand was placed the sceptre, in the other the globe; and behind the head an imperial crown rested on a cushion in a chair of state. But, in defiance of every precaution it became necessary to inter the body before the appointed day; and the coffin was secretly deposited at night in a vault at the west end of the middle aisle of Westminster Abbey, under a gorgeous cenotaph which had recently been erected. The effigy was now removed to a more spacious chamber; it rose from a recumbent to an erect posture; and stood before the spectators not only with the emblems of royalty in its hands, but with the crown upon its head. For eight weeks this pageant was exhibited to the public. As the day appointed for the funeral obsequies approached, rumours of an intended insurrection during the ceremony were circulated; but guards from the most trusty regiments lined the streets; the procession consisting of the principal persons in the city and army, the officers of state, the foreign ambassadors, and the members of the protector’s family, passed[a] along without interruption; and the effigy, which in lieu of the corpse was borne on a car, was placed, with due solemnity, in the cenotaph already mentioned. Thus did fortune sport with the ambitious prospects of Cromwell. The honours of royalty which she refused to him during his life, she lavished on his remains after death; and then, in the course of a few months, resuming her gifts, exchanged the crown for a halter, and the royal monument in the abbey for an ignominious grave at Tyburn.[1]

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vi. 528, 529. Carrington apud Noble, i. 360-369. The charge for black cloth alone on this occasion was six thousand nine hundred and twenty-nine pounds, six shillings, and fivepence,–Biblioth. Stow. ii. 448. I do not notice the childish stories about stealing of the protector’s body.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Nov. 23.]

Before the reader proceeds to the more important transactions at home, he may take a rapid view of the relations existing between England and foreign states. The war which had so long raged between the rival crowns of France and Spain was hastening to its termination; to Louis the aid of England appeared no longer a matter of consequence; and the auxiliary treaty between the two countries, which had been renewed from year to year, was suffered to expire at the appointed[a] time. But in the north of Europe there was much to claim the attention of the new protector; for the king of Sweden, after a short peace, had again unsheathed the sword against his enemy, the king of Denmark. The commercial interests of the maritime states were deeply involved in the issue of this contest; both England and Holland prepared to aid their respective allies; and a Dutch squadron joined the Danish, while an English division, under the command of Ayscue, sailed to the assistance of the Swedish monarch. The severity of the winter forced Ayscue to return; but as soon as the navigation of the Sound was open, two powerful fleets were despatched to the Baltic, one by the protector, the other by the States; and to Montague, the English admiral, was intrusted the delicate and difficult commission, not only of watching the proceedings of the Dutch, but also of compelling them to observe peace towards the Swedes, without giving them occasion to commence hostilities against himself. In this he was successful; but no offer of mediation could reconcile the contending

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. August.]

monarchs; and we shall find Montague still cruising in the Baltic at the time when Richard, from whom he derived his commission, will be forced to abdicate the protectorial dignity.[1]

In a few days after the funeral of his father, to the surprise of the public, the protector summoned[a] a parliament. How, it was asked, could Richard hope to control such an assembly, when the genius and authority of Oliver had proved unequal to the attempt? The difficulty was acknowledged; but the arrears of the army, the exhaustion of the treasury, and the necessity of seeking support against the designs of the officers, compelled him to hazard the experiment, and he flattered himself with the hope of success, by avoiding the rock on which, in the opinion of his advisers, the policy of his father had split. Oliver had adopted the plan of representation prepared by the long parliament before its dissolution, a plan which, by disfranchising the lesser boroughs, and multiplying the members of the counties, had rendered the elections more independent of the government: Richard, under the pretence of a boon to the nation, reverted to the ancient system; and, if we may credit the calculation of his opponents, no fewer than one hundred and sixty members were returned from the boroughs by the interest of the court and its supporters. But to adopt the same plan in the conquered countries of Scotland and Ireland would have been dangerous; thirty representatives were therefore summoned from each; and, as the elections were conducted under the eyes of the

[Footnote 1: Burton’s Diary, iii. 576. Thurloe, vol. vii. passim. Carte’s Letters, ii. 157-182, Londorp, viii. 635, 708. Dumont, vi. 244, 252, 260.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1658. Nov. 30.]

commanders of the forces, the members, with one solitary exception, proved themselves the obsequious servants of government.[1]

It was, however, taken as no favourable omen, that when the protector, at the opening of parliament, commanded the attendance of the Commons in the House of Lords, nearly one-half of the members refused[a] to obey. They were unwilling to sanction by their presence the existence of an authority, the legality of which they intended to dispute; or to admit the superior rank of the new peers, the representatives of the protector, over themselves, the representatives of the people. As soon as the lower house was constituted, it divided itself into three distinct parties. 1. The protectorists formed about one-half of the members. They had received instructions to adhere inviolably to the provisions of the “humble petition and advice,” and to consider the government by a single person, with the aid of two houses, as the unalterable basis of the constitution. 2. The republicans, who did not amount to fifty, but compensated for deficiency in number by their energy and eloquence. Vane, Hazlerig, Lambert, Ludlow, Nevil, Bradshaw, and Scot, were ready debaters, skilled in the forms of the house, and always on the watch to take advantage of the want of knowledge or of experience on the part of their adversaries. With them voted Fairfax, who, after a long retirement, appeared once more on the stage. He constantly sat by the side, and echoed the opinions of Hazlerig; and, so artfully did he act his part, so firmly did he attach their confidence, that, though a royalist at heart, he was designed by them

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 541, 550. Ludlow, ii. 170. Bethel, Brief Narrative, 340. England’s Confusion (p. 4), London, 1659.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Jan. 27]

for the office of lord-general, in the event of the expulsion or the abdication of Richard. 3. The “moderates or neuters” held in number the medium between the protectorists and republicans. Of these, some wavered between the two parties; but many were concealed Cavaliers, who, in obedience to the command of Charles, had obtained seats in the house, or young men who, without any fixed political principles, suffered themselves to be guided by the suggestions of the Cavaliers. To the latter, Hyde had sent instructions that they should embarrass the plans of the protector, by denouncing to the house the illegal acts committed under the late administration; by impeaching Thurloe and the principal officers of state; by fomenting the dissension between the courtiers and the republicans; and by throwing their weight into the scale, sometimes in favour of one, sometimes of the other party, as might appear most conducive to the interests of the royal exile.[1]

The Lords, aware of the insecure footing on which they stood, were careful not to provoke the hostility of the Commons. They sent no messages; they passed no bills; but exchanging matters of state for questions of religion, contrived to spend their time in discussing the form of a national catechism, the sinfulness of theatrical entertainments, and the papal corruptions supposed to exist in the Book of Common

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, i. 766; vii. 562, 604, 605, 609, 615, 616. Clarend. Pap. iii. 423, 424, 425, 428, 432, 434, 436. There were forty-seven republicans; from one hundred to one hundred and forty counterfeit republicans and neuters, seventy-two lawyers, and above one hundred placemen.–Ibid. 440. They began with a day of fasting and humiliation within the house, and four ministers, with praying and preaching, occupied them from nine till six.–Burton’s Diary and Journals, Feb. 4.]

Prayer.[1] In the lower house, the first subject which called forth the strength of the different parties was a bill which, under the pretence of recognizing Richard Cromwell for the rightful successor to his father, would have pledged the parliament to an acquiescence in the existing form of government.[a] The men of republican principles instantly took the alarm. To Richard personally they made no objection; they respected his private character, and wished well to the prosperity of his family; but where, they asked, was the proof that the provisions of the “humble petition and advice” had been observed? where the deed of nomination by his father? where the witnesses to the signature?–Then what was the “humble petition and advice” itself? An instrument of no force in a matter of such high concernment, and passed by a very small majority in a house, out of which one hundred members lawfully chosen, had been unlawfully excluded. Lastly, what right had the Commons to admit a negative voice, either in another house or in a single person? Such a voice was destructive of the sovereignty of the people exercised by their representatives. The people had sent them to parliament with power to make laws for the national welfare, but not to annihilate the first and most valuable right of their constituents. Each day the debate grew more animated and personal; charges were made and recriminations followed: the republicans enumerated the acts of misrule and oppression under the government of the late protector; the courtiers balanced the account with similar instances from the proceedings of their adversaries during the sway of the long parliament; the orators, amidst the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, 559, 609, 615.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Feb. 1.]

multitude of subjects incidentally introduced, lost sight of the original question; and the speaker, after a debate of eight days, declared that he was bewildered in a labyrinth of confusion, out of which he could discover no issue. Weariness at last induced the combatants to listen to a compromise,[a] that the recognition of Richard as protector should form part of a future bill, but that at the same time, his prerogative should be so limited as to secure the liberties of the people. Each party expressed its satisfaction. The republicans had still the field open for the advocacy of their favourite doctrines; the protectorists had advanced a step, and trusted that it would lead them to the acquisition of greater advantages.[1]

From the office of protector, the members proceeded to inquire into the constitution and powers of the other house; and this question, as it was intimately connected with the former, was debated with equal warmth and pertinacity. The opposition appealed to the “engagement,” which many of the members had subscribed; contended that the right of calling a second house had been personal to the late protector, and did not descend to his successors; urged the folly of yielding a negative voice on their proceedings to a body of counsellors of their own creation; and pretended to foretel that a protector with a yearly income of one million three hundred thousand pounds, and a house of lords selected by himself, must inevitably become, in the course of a few years, master of the liberties of the people. When, at the end of nine days, the speaker was going to put the question, Sir

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 1, 14. Thurloe, 603, 609, 610, 615, 617. Clar. Pap. iii. 424, 426, 429. In Burton’s Diary the debate occupies almost two hundred pages (iii. 87-287).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Feb 14.]

Richard Temple, a concealed royalist, demanded that the sixty members from Scotland and Ireland, all in the interest of the court, should withdraw.[a] It was, he said, doubtful, from the illegality of their election, whether they had any right to sit at all; it was certain that, as the representatives of other nations, they could not claim to vote on a question of such high importance to the people of England. Thus another bone of contention was thrown between the parties; eleven days were consumed before the Scottish and Irish members could obtain permission to vote,[b] and then five more expired before the question respecting the other house was determined.[c] The new lords had little reason to be gratified with the result. They were acknowledged, indeed, as a house of parliament for the present; but there was no admission of their claim of the peerage, or of a negative voice, or of a right to sit in subsequent parliaments. The Commons consented “to transact business with them” (a new phrase of undefined meaning), pending the parliament, but with a saving of the rights of the ancient peers, who had been faithful to the cause; and, in addition, a few days later,[d] they resolved that, in the transaction of business, no superiority should be admitted in the other house, nor message received from it, unless brought by the members themselves.[1]

In these instances, the recognition of the protector, and of the two houses, the royalists, with some exceptions, had voted in favour of the court, under the impression that such a form of government was

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 18, March 28, April 5, 6, 8. Thurloe, 615, 626, 633, 636, 640, 647, Clar. Pap. iii. 429, 432. Burton’s Diary, iii. 317-369, 403-424, 510-594; iv. 7-41, 46-147, 163-243, 293, 351, 375.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. March 10.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. March 23.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. March 28.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1659. April 8.]

one step towards the restoration of the king. But on all other questions, whenever there was a prospect of throwing impediments in the way of the ministry, or of inflaming the discontent of the people, they zealously lent their aid to the republican party. It was proved that, while the revenue had been doubled, the expenditure had grown in a greater proportion; complaints were made of oppression, waste, embezzlement, and tyranny in the collection of the excise: the inhumanity of selling obnoxious individuals for slaves to the West India planters was severely reprobated;[1] instances of extortion were daily announced to the house by the committee of grievances; an impeachment was ordered against Boteler, accused of oppression in his office of major-general; and another threatened against Thurloe for illegal conduct in his capacity of secretary of state. But, while these proceedings awakened the hopes and gratified the resentments of the people, they at the same time spread alarm through the army; every man conscious of having abused the power of the sword began to tremble for his own safety; and an unusual ferment, the sure presage of military violence, was observable at the head-quarters of the several regiments.

[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 429, 432. Thurloe, 647. Burton’s Diary, iii. 448; iv. 255, 263, 301, 403, 429. One petition stated that seventy persons who had been apprehended on account of the Salisbury rising, after a year’s imprisonment, had been sold at Barbadoes for “1550 pounds’ weight of sugar a-piece, more or less, according to their working faculties.” Among them were divines, officers, and gentlemen, who were represented as “grinding at the mills, attending at the furnaces, and digging in that scorching island, being bought and sold still from one planter to another, or attached as horses or beasts for the debts of their masters, being whipped at the whipping-posts as rogues at their masters’ pleasure, and sleeping in sties worse than hogs in England."–Ibid. 256. See also Thurloe, i. 745.]

Hitherto the general officers had been divided between Whitehall and Wallingford House, the residences of Richard and of Fleetwood. At Whitehall, the Lord Falconberg, brother-in-law to the protector, Charles Howard, whom Oliver had created a viscount,[1] Ingoldsby, Whalley, Goffe, and a few others, formed a military council for the purpose of maintaining the ascendancy of Richard in the army. At Wallingford House, Fleetwood and his friends consulted how they might deprive him of the command, and reduce him to the situation of a civil magistrate; but now a third and more numerous council appeared at St. James’s, consisting of most of the inferior officers, and guided by the secret intrigues of Lambert, who, holding no commission himself, abstained from sitting among them, and by the open influence of Desborough, a bold and reckless man, who began to despise the weak and wavering conduct of Fleetwood. Here originated the plan of a general council of officers,[a] which was followed by the adoption of “the humble representation and petition,” an instrument composed in language too moderate to give reasonable cause of offence, but intended to suggest much more than it was thought prudent to express. It made no allusion to the disputed claim of the protector, or the subjects of strife between the two houses; but it complained bitterly of the contempt into which the good old cause had sunk, of the threats held out, and the prosecutions instituted, against the patriots who had distinguished themselves in its support, and of the privations to which the military were reduced

[Footnote 1: Viscount Howard, of Morpeth, July 20, 1657, afterwards created Baron Dacre, Viscount Howard of Morpeth and earl of Carlisle, by Charles II., 30 April, 1661.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. April 6.]

by a system that kept their pay so many months in arrear. In conclusion, it prayed for the redress of these grievances, and stated the attachment of the subscribers to the cause for which they had bled, and their readiness to stand by the protector and parliament in its defence.[1] This paper, with six hundred signatures, was presented to Richard, who received it with an air of cheerfulness, and forwarded it to the lower house. There it was read, laid on the table, and scornfully neglected. But the military leaders treated the house with equal scorn; having obtained the consent of the protector, they established a permanent council of general officers; and then, instead of fulfilling the expectations with which they had lulled his jealousy, successively voted, that the common cause was in danger, that the command of the army ought to be vested in a person possessing its confidence, and that every officer should be called upon to testify his approbation of the death of Charles I., and of the subsequent proceedings of the military; a measure levelled against the meeting at Whitehall, of which the members were charged with a secret leaning to the cause of royalty.[2] This was sufficiently alarming; but, in addition, the officers of the trained bands signified their adhesion to the “representation” of the army; and more than six hundred privates of the regiment formerly commanded by Colonel Pride published their determination to stand by their officers in the maintenance “of the old cause."[3] The

[Footnote 1: “The Humble Representation and Petition, printed by H. Hills, 1659."–Thurloe, 659.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, 662. Ludlow, ii. 174.]

[Footnote 3: The Humble Representation and Petition of Field Officers, &c. of the Trained Bands. London, 1659. Burton’s Diary, iv. 388, note.]

friends of the protector saw that it was time to act with energy; and, by their influence in the lower house, carried the following votes:[a] that no military meetings should be held without the joint consent of the protector and the parliament, and that every officer should forfeit his commission who would not promise, under his signature, never to disturb the sitting, or infringe the freedom of parliament. These votes met, indeed, with a violent opposition in the “other house,” in which many of the members had been chosen from the military; but the courtiers, anxious to secure the victory, proposed another and declaratory vote in the Commons,[b] that the command of the army was vested in the three estates, to be exercised by the protector. By the officers this motion was considered as an open declaration of war: they instantly met; and Desborough, in their name, informed Richard that the crisis was at last come; the parliament must be dissolved, either by the civil authority, or by the power of the sword. He might make his election. If he chose the first, the army would provide for his dignity and support; if he did not, he would be abandoned to his fate, and fall friendless and unpitied.[1]

The protector called a council of his confidential advisers. Whitelock opposed the dissolution, on the ground that a grant of money might yet appease the discontent of the military. Thurloe, Broghill, Fiennes, and Wolseley maintained, on the contrary, that the dissension between the parliament and the army was irreconcilable; and that on the first shock between them, the Cavaliers would rise simultaneously in the

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, 555, 557, 558, 662. Burton’s Diary, iv. 448-463, 472-480. Ludlow ii. 176, 178.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. April 18.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. April 21.]

cause of Charles Stuart. A commission was accordingly signed by Richard, and the usher of the black rod repeatedly summoned the Commons to attend in the other house.[a] But true to their former vote of receiving no message brought by inferior officers, they refused to obey; some members proposed to declare it treason to put force on the representatives of the nation, others to pronounce all proceedings void whenever a portion of the members should be excluded by violence; at last they adjourned for three days, and accompanied the speaker to his carriage in the face of the soldiery assembled at the door. These proceedings, however, did not prevent Fiennes, the head commissioner, from dissolving the parliament; and the important intelligence was communicated to the three nations by proclamation in the same afternoon.[1]

Whether the consequences of this measure, so fatal to the interests of Richard, were foreseen by his advisers, may be doubted. It appears that Thurloe had for several days been negotiating both with the republican and the military leaders. He had tempted some of the former with the offer of place and emolument, to strengthen the party of the protector; to the latter he had proposed that Richard, in imitation of his father on one occasion, should raise money for the payment of the army by the power of the sword, and without the aid of parliament.[2] But these intrigues were now at an end; by the dissolution Richard had signed his own deposition; though he continued to reside at Whitehall, the government fell into abeyance; even the officers, who had hitherto frequented

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 677. England’s Confusion, 9. Clarendon Papers, 451, 456. Ludlow, ii. 174. Merc. Pol. 564.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, 659, 661.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. April 22.]

his court, abandoned him, some to appease, by their attendance at Wallingford House, the resentment of their adversaries, the others, to provide, by their absence, for their own safety. If the supreme authority resided any where, it was with Fleetwood, who now held the nominal command of the army; but he and his associates were controlled both by the meeting of officers at St. James’s, and by the consultations of the republican party in the city; and therefore contented themselves with depriving the friends of Richard of their commissions, and with giving their regiments to the men who had been cashiered by his father.[1] Unable to agree on any form of government among themselves, they sought to come to an understanding with the republican leaders. These demanded the restoration of the long parliament, on the ground that, as its interruption by Cromwell had been illegal, it was still the supreme authority in the nation; and the officers, unwilling to forfeit the privileges of their new peerage, insisted on the reproduction of the other house, as a co-ordinate authority, under the less objectionable name of a senate. But the country was now in a state of anarchy; the intentions of the armies in Scotland and Ireland remained uncertain; and the royalists, both Presbyterians and Cavaliers, were exerting themselves to improve the general confusion to the advantage of the exiled king. As a last resource, the officers, by an instrument in which they regretted their past errors and backsliding, invited[a] the members of the long parliament to resume the trust of

[Footnote 1: See the Humble Remonstrance from four hundred Non-commissioned Officers and Privates of Major-general Goffe’s Regiment (so called) of Foot. London, 1659.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. May 6.]

which they had been unrighteously deprived. With some difficulty, two-and-forty were privately collected in the Painted Chamber; Lenthall, the former speaker, after much entreaty, put himself at their head,[a] and the whole body passed into the house through two lines of officers, some of whom were the very individuals by whom, six years before, they had been ignominiously expelled.[1]

The reader will recollect that, on a former occasion, in the year 1648, the Presbyterian members of the long parliament had been excluded by the army. Of these, one hundred and ninety-four were still alive, eighty of whom actually resided in the capital. That they had as good a right to resume their seats as the members who had been expelled by Cromwell could hardly be doubted; but they were royalists, still adhering to the principles which they professed during the treaty in the Isle of Wight, and from their number, had they been admitted, would have instantly outvoted the advocates of republicanism. They assembled in Westminster Hall;[b] and a deputation of fourteen, with Sir George Booth, Prynne, and Annesley at their head, proceeded to the house. The doors were closed in their faces; a company of soldiers, the keepers, as they were sarcastically called, of the liberties of England, filled the lobby; and a resolution was passed that no former member, who had not subscribed the engagement, should sit till further order of parliament.[c] The attempt, however, though it failed of success, produced its effect. It served to countenance a belief that the sitting members were mere tools of the military, and supplied the royalists with the means of masking their

[Footnote 1: Ludlow, 179-186. Whitelock, 677. England’s Confusion, 9.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. May 7.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. May 7.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. May 9.]

real designs under the popular pretence of vindicating the freedom of parliament.[1]

By gradual additions, the house at last amounted to seventy members, who, while they were ridiculed by their adversaries with the appellation of the "Rump,” constituted themselves the supreme authority in the three kingdoms. They appointed, first, a committee of safety, and then a council of state, notified to the foreign ministers their restoration to power, and, to satisfy the people, promised by a printed declaration[a] to establish a form of government, which should secure civil and religious liberty without a single person, or kingship, or house of lords. The farce of addresses was renewed; the “children of Zion,” the asserters of the good old cause, clamorously displayed their joy; and Heaven was fatigued with prayers for the prosperity and permanence of the new government.[2]

That government at first depended for its existence on the good-will of the military in the neighbourhood of London; gradually it obtained[b] promises of support from the forces at a distance. 1. Monk, with his

[Footnote 1: Journ. May 9. Loyalty Banished, 3. England’s Confusion, 12. On the 9th, Prynne found his way into the house, and maintained his right against his opponents till dinner-time. After dinner he returned, but was excluded by the military. He was careful, however, to inform the public of the particulars, and moreover undertook to prove that the long parliament expired at the death of the king; 1. On the authority of the doctrine laid down in the law books; 2. Because all writs of summons abate by the king’s death in parliament; 3. Because the parliament is called by a king regnant, and is his, the king regnant’s, parliament, and deliberates on hisbusiness; 4. Because the parliament is a corporation, consisting of king, lords, and commons, and if one of the three be extinct, the body corporate no longer exists.–See Loyalty Banished, and a true and perfect Narrative of what was done and spoken by and between Mr. Prynne, &c., 1650.]

[Footnote 2: See the Declarations of the Army and the Parliament in the Journals, May 7.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. May 13.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. May 17.]

officers, wrote to the speaker, congratulating him and his colleagues on their restoration to power, and hypocritically thanking them for their condescension in taking up so heavy a burthen; but, at the same time, reminding them of the services of Oliver Cromwell, and of the debt of gratitude which the nation owed to his family.[1] 2. Lockhart hastened to tender the services of the regiments in Flanders, and received in return a renewal of his credentials as ambassador, with a commission to attend the conferences between the ministers of France and Spain at Fuentarabia. 3. Montague followed with a letter from the fleet; but his professions of attachment were received with distrust. To balance his influence with the seamen, Lawson received the command of a squadron destined to cruise in the Channel; and, to watch his conduct in the Baltic, three commissioners, with Algernon Sydney at their head, were joined with him in his mission to the two northern courts.[2] 4. There still remained the army in Ireland. From Henry Cromwell, a soldier possessing the affections of the military, and believed to inherit the abilities of his father, an obstinate, and perhaps successful, resistance was anticipated. But he wanted decision. Three parties had presented themselves to his choice; to earn, by the promptitude of his acquiescence, the gratitude of the new government; or to maintain by arms the right of his deposed brother; or to declare, as he was strongly solicited to declare, in favour of Charles Stuart. Much time was lost in consultation; at length the thirst of resentment, with the lure of reward, determined him

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 678.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, 669, 670. Ludlow, ii. 199. Journals, May 7, 9, 18, 26, 31.]

to unfurl the royal standard;[1] then the arrival of letters from England threw him back into his former state of irresolution; and, while he thus wavered from project to project, some of his officers ventured to profess their attachment to the commonwealth, the privates betrayed a disinclination to separate their cause from that of their comrades in England, and Sir Hardress Waller, in the interest of the parliament, surprised the castle of Dublin.[a] The last stroke reduced Henry at once to the condition of a suppliant; he signified his submission by a letter to the speaker, obeyed the commands of the house to appear before the council,[b] and, having explained to them the state of Ireland, was graciously permitted to retire into the obscurity of private life. The civil administration of the island devolved on five commissioners, and the command of the army was given to Ludlow,[c] with the rank of lieutenant-general of the horse.[2]

But the republican leaders soon discovered that they had not been called to repose on a bed of roses.[d] The officers at Wallingford House began to dictate to the men whom they had made their nominal masters, and forwarded to them fifteen demands, under the modest title of “the things which they had on their minds,” when they restored the long parliament.[3] The house took them successively into consideration. A committee was appointed to report the form of government the best calculated to secure the liberties of the people; the duration of the existing parliament was

[Footnote 1: Carte’s Letters, ii. 242. Clar. Pap. 500, 501, 516.]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vii. 683, 684. Journals, June 14, 27, July 4, 17. Henry Cromwell resided on his estate of Swinney Abbey, near Sohan, in Cambridgeshire, till his death in 1674.–Noble, i. 227.]

[Footnote 3: See the Humble Petition and Address of the Officers, printed by Henry Hills, 1659.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. June 15.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. July 6.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. July 18.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1659. May 15.]

limited to twelve months; freedom of worship was extended to all believers in the Scriptures and the doctrine of the Trinity, with the usual exception of prelatists and papists; and an act of oblivion, after many debates, was passed, but so encumbered with provisoes and exceptions, that it served rather to irritate than appease.[1] The officers had requested[a] that lands of inheritance, to the annual value of ten thousand pounds, should be settled on Richard Cromwell, and a yearly pension of eight thousand pounds on her “highness dowager,” his mother. But it was observed in the house that, though Richard exercised no authority, he continued to occupy the state apartments at Whitehall; and a suspicion existed that he was kept there as an object of terror, to intimate to the members that the same power could again set him up, which had so recently brought him down. By repeated messages, he was ordered to retire; and, on his promise to obey, the parliament granted him the privilege of freedom from arrest during six months; transferred his private debts, amounting to twenty-nine thousand six hundred and forty pounds, to the account of the nation, gave him two thousand pounds as a relief to his present necessities, and voted that a yearly income of ten thousand pounds should be settled on him and his heirs, a grant easily made on paper, but never carried into execution.[2]

[Footnote 1: Declaration of General Council of Officers, 27th of October, p. 5. For the different forms of government suggested by different projectors, see Ludlow, ii. 206.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, May 16, 25, July 4, 12, 16.–Ludlow (ii. 198) makes the present twenty thousand pounds; but the sum of two thousand pounds is written at length in the Journals; May 25. While he was at Whitehall, he entertained proposals from the royalists, consented to accept a title and twenty thousand pounds a year, and designed to escape to the fleet under Montague, but was too strictly watched to effect his purpose.–Clar. Pap. iii. 475, 477, 478.]

[Sidenote: A.D. 1659. July 12.]

But the principal source of disquietude still remained. Among the fifteen articles presented to the house, the twelfth appeared, not in the shape of a request, but of a declaration, that the officers unanimously owned Fleetwood as “commander-in-chief of the land forces in England.” It was the point for which they had contended under Richard; and Ludlow, Vane, and Salloway earnestly implored their colleagues to connive at what it was evidently dangerous to oppose. But the lessons of prudence were thrown away on the rigid republicanism of Hazlerig, Sydney, Neville, and their associates, who contended that to be silent was to acknowledge in the council of officers an authority independent of the parliament. They undertook to remodel the constitution of the army. The office of lord-general was abolished; no intermediate rank between the lieutenant-general and the colonels was admitted; Fleetwood was named lieutenant-general, with the chief command in England and Scotland, but limited in its duration to a short period, revocable at pleasure, and deprived of several of those powers which had hitherto been annexed to it. All military commissions were revoked, and an order was made that a committee of nine members should recommend the persons to be officers in each regiment; that their respective merits should be canvassed in the house; and that those who had passed this ordeal should receive their commissions at the table from the hand of the speaker. The object of this arrangement was plain: to make void the declaration of the military, to weed out men of doubtful fidelity, and to render the others dependent for their situations on the pleasure of the house. Fleetwood, with his adherents, resolved never to submit to the degradation, while the privates amused themselves with ridiculing the age and infirmities of him whom they called their new lord-general, the speaker Lenthall; but Hazlerig prevailed on Colonel Hacker, with his officers, to conform; their example gradually drew others; and, at length, the most discontented, though with shame and reluctance, condescended to go through this humbling ceremony. The republicans congratulated each other on their victory; they had only accelerated their defeat.[1]

Ever since the death of Oliver, the exiled king had watched with intense interest the course of events in England; and each day added a new stimulus to his hopes of a favourable issue. The unsettled state of the nation, the dissensions among his enemies, the flattering representations of his friends, and the offers of co-operation from men who had hitherto opposed his claims, persuaded him that the day of his restoration was at hand. That the opportunity might not be forfeited by his own backwardness, he announced[a] to the leaders of the royalists his intention of coming to England, and of hazarding his life in the company of his faithful subjects. There was scarcely a county in which the majority of the nobility and gentry did not engage to rally round his standard; the first day of August was fixed for the general rising; and it was determined[b] in the council at Brussels that Charles should repair in disguise to the coast of Bretagne, where he might procure a passage into Wales or Cornwall; that the duke of York, with six hundred veterans furnished by the prince of Condé, should attempt to land from Boulogne on the coast of Kent; and that the duke of Gloucester should follow

[Footnote 1: Journals, passim. Ludlow, ii. 197. Declaration of Officers, 6. Thurloe, 679. Clarend. Hist. iii. 665.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. June 4.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. July.]

from Ostend with the royal army of four thousand men under the Marshal Marsin. Unfortunately his concerns in England had been hitherto conducted by a council called “the Knot,” at the head of which was Sir Richard Willis. Willis, the reader is aware, was a traitor; but it was only of late that the eyes of Charles had been opened to his perfidy by Morland, the secretary of Thurloe, who, to make his own peace, sent to the court at Bruges some of the original communications in the writing of Willis. This discovery astonished and perplexed the king. To make public the conduct of the traitor was to provoke him to farther disclosures: to conceal it, was to connive at the destruction of his friends, and the ruin of his own prospects. He first instructed his correspondents to be reserved in their communications with “the Knot;"[a] he then ordered Willis to meet him on a certain day at Calais;[b] and, when this order was disregarded, openly forbade the royalists to give to the traitor information, or to follow his advice.[1]

But these precautions came too late. After the deposition of the protector, Willis had continued to communicate with Thurloe, who with the intelligence

[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 514, 517, 518, 520, 524, 526, 529, 531, 535, 536. Willis maintained his innocence, and found many to believe him. Echard (p. 729) has published a letter with Morland’s signature, in which he is made to say that he never sent any of the letters of Willis to the king, nor even so much as knew his name; whence Harris (ii. 215) infers that the whole charge is false. That, however, it was true, no one can doubt who will examine the proofs in the Clarendon Papers (iii. 518, 526, 529, 533, 535, 536, 542, 549, 556, 558, 562, 563, 574, 583, 585), and in Carte’s Collection of Letters (ii. 220, 256, 284). Indeed, the letter from Willis of the 9th of May, 1660, soliciting the king’s pardon, leaves no room for doubt.–Clar. Pap. 643. That Morland was the informer, and, consequently, the letter in Echard is a forgery, is also evident from the reward which he received at the restoration, and from his own admission to Pepys.–See Pepys, i. 79, 82, 133, 8vo. See also “Life of James II.” 370.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. July 18.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. August 7.]

which he thus obtained, was enabled to purchase the forbearance of his former opponents. At an early period in July, the council was in possession of the plan of the royalists. Reinforcements were immediately demanded from the armies in Flanders and Ireland; directions were issued for a levy of fourteen regiments of one thousand men each;[a] measures were taken for calling out the militia; numerous arrests were made in the city and every part of the country; and the known Cavaliers were compelled to leave the metropolis, and to produce security for their peaceable behaviour. These proceedings seemed to justify Willis in representing the attempt as hopeless; and, at his persuasion, “the Knot” by circular letters forbade the rising, two days before the appointed time.[b] The royalists were thus thrown into irremediable confusion. Many remained quiet at their homes; many assembled in arms, and dispersed on account of the absence of their associates; in some counties the leaders were intercepted in their way to the place of rendezvous; in others as soon as they met, they were surrounded or charged by a superior force. In Cheshire alone was the royal standard successfully unfurled by Sir George Booth, a person of considerable influence in the county, and a recent convert to the cause of the Stuarts. In the letter which he circulated, he was careful to make no mention of the king, but called on the people to defend their rights against the tyranny of an insolent soldiery and a pretended parliament.[c] "Let the nation freely choose its representatives, and those representatives as freely sit without awe or force of soldiery.” This was all that he sought: in the determination of such an assembly, whatever that determination might be, both he and

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. August 13.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. August 29.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. August 2.]

his friends would cheerfully acquiesce.[1] It was in effect a rising on the Presbyterian interest; and the proceedings were in a great measure controlled by a committee of minister, who scornfully rejected the aid of the Catholics, and received with jealousy Sir Thomas Middleton, though a known Presbyterian, because he openly avowed himself a royalist.

At Chester, the parliamentary garrison retired into the castle, and the insurgents took possession of the city. Each day brought to them a new accession of strength; and their apparent success taught them to augur equally well of the expected attempts of their confederates throughout the kingdom. But the unwelcome truth could not long be concealed; and when they learned that they stood alone, that every other rising had been either prevented or instantly suppressed, and that Lambert was hastening against them with four regiments of cavalry and three of foot, their confidence was exchanged for despair; every gentleman who had risked his life in the attempt claimed a right to give his advice; and their counsels, from fear, inexperience, and misinformation, became fluctuating and contradictory.[a] After much hesitation, they resolved to proceed to Nantwich and defend the passage of the Weever; but so rapid had been the march of the enemy, who sent forward part of the infantry on horseback, that the advance was already arrived in the neighbourhood; and, while the royalists lay unsuspicious of danger in the town, Lambert forced the passage of the river at Winnington.[b] In haste, they filed out of Nantwich into the nearest fields; but here they found that most of their ammunition was still at Chester;[c] and, on the suggestion that the position was

[Footnote 1: Parl. Hist. xxiii. 107.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. August 16.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. August 18.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. August 19.]

unfavourable, hastened to take possession of a neighbouring eminence. Colonel Morgan, with his troop, attempted to keep the enemy in check; he fell, with thirty men; and the rest of the insurgents, at the approach of their adversaries, turned their backs and fled. Three hundred were made prisoners in the pursuit, and few of the leaders had the good fortune to escape. The earl of Derby, who had raised men in Lancashire to join the royalists, was taken in the disguise of a servant. Booth, dressed as a female, and riding on a pillion, took[a] the direct road for London, but betrayed himself at Newton Pagnell by his awkwardness in alighting from the horse. Middleton, who was eighty years old, fled to Chirk Castle; and, after a defence of a few days, capitulated,[b] on condition that he should have two months to make his peace with the parliament.[1]

The news of this disaster reached the duke of York at Boulogne, fortunately on the very evening on which he was to have embarked with his men. Charles received it at Rochelle, whither he had been compelled to proceed in search of a vessel to convey him to Wales. Abandoning the hopeless project, he instantly continued his journey to the congress at Fuentarabia, with the delusive expectation that, on the conclusion of peace between the two crowns, he should obtain a supply of money, and perhaps still more substantial aid, from a personal interview with the ministers, Cardinal Mazarin and Don Louis de Haro.[2] Montague, who had but recently become a proselyte to the royal cause,

[Footnote 1: Clar. Hist. iii. 672-675. Clar. Pap. iii. 673, 674. Ludlow, ii. 223. Whitelock, 683. Carte’s Letters, 194, 202. Lambert’s Letter, printed for Thomas Neucombe, 1659.]

[Footnote 2: Both promised to aid him secretly, but not in such manner as to give offence to the ruling party in England.–Clar. Pap. iii. 642.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. August.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. August 24.]

was drawn by his zeal into the most imminent danger. As soon as he heard of the insurrection, he brought back the fleet from the Sound, in defiance of his brother commissioners, with the intention of blockading the mouth of the Thames, and of facilitating the transportation of troops. On his arrival he learned the failure of his hopes; but boldly faced the danger, appeared before the council, and assigned the want of provisions as the cause of his return. They heard him with distrust; but it was deemed prudent to dissemble, and he received permission to withdraw.[1]

To reward Lambert for this complete, though almost bloodless, victory, the parliament[a] voted him the sum of one thousand pounds, which he immediately distributed among his officers. But while they recompensed his services, they were not the less jealous of his ambition. They remembered how instrumental he had been in raising Cromwell to the protectorate; they knew his influence in the army; and they feared his control over the timid, wavering mind of Fleetwood, whom he appeared to govern in the same manner as Cromwell had governed Fairfax. It had been hoped that his absence on the late expedition would afford them leisure to gain the officers remaining in the capital; but the unexpected rapidity of his success had defeated their policy; and, in a short time, the intrigue which had been interrupted by the insurrection was resumed. While Lambert hastened back to the capital, his army followed by slow marches; and at Derby the officers subscribed[b] a petition, which had been clandestinely forwarded to them from Wallingford House. In it they complained that adequate rewards were not conferred on the deserving; and

[Footnote 1: Journals, Sept. 16. Clar. Pap. iii. 551. Carte’s Letters, ii. 210, 236. Pepys’ Memoirs, i. 157.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. August 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. Sept. 14.]

demanded that the office of commander-in-chief should be given to Fleetwood without limitation of time, and the rank of major-general to their victorious leader; that no officer should be deprived of his commission without the judgment of a court-martial; and that the government should be settled in a house of representatives and a permanent senate. Hazlerig, a man of stern republican principles, and of a temper hasty, morose, and ungovernable, obtained a sight of this paper, denounced[a] it as an attempt to subvert the parliament, and moved that Lambert, its author, should be sent to the Tower; but his violence was checked by the declaration of Fleetwood, that Lambert knew nothing of its origin; and the house contented itself with ordering all copies of the obnoxious petition to be delivered up, and with resolving[b] that “to augment the number of general officers was needless, chargeable, and dangerous."[1] From that moment a breach was inevitable. The house, to gratify the soldiers, had advanced their daily pay; and with the view of discharging their arrears, had raised[c] the monthly assessment from thirty-five thousand pounds to one hundred thousand pounds.[2] But the military leaders were not to be diverted from their purpose. Meetings were daily and nightly held at Wallingford House; and another petition with two hundred and thirty signatures was presented by Desborough, accompanied by all the field-officers in the metropolis; In most points it was similar to the former; but it contained a demand that, whosoever should afterwards “groundlessly and causelessly inform the house against their servants, thereby creating jealousies, and casting scandalous imputations upon them, should be

[Footnote 1: Journ., Aug. 23, Sept. 22, 23. Ludlow, ii. 223, 227, 233, 244.]

[Footnote 2: Ibid., May 31, Aug. 18, Sept. 1]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Sept. 22.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. Sept. 23.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. Oct. 5.]

brought to examination, justice, and condign punishment.” This was a sufficient intimation to Hazlerig and his party to provide for their own safety. Three regiments, through the medium of their officers, had already made the tender of their services for the protection of the house; Monk, from Scotland, and Ludlow, from Ireland, wrote that their respective armies were animated with similar sentiments; and a vote was passed and ordered to be published,[a] declaring it to be treason to levy money on the people without the previous consent of parliament, a measure which, as all the existing taxes were to expire on the first day of the ensuing year, made the military dependent for their future subsistence on the pleasure of the party. Hazlerig, thus fortified, deemed himself a match for his adversaries; the next morning he boldly threw down the gauntlet;[b] by one vote, Lambert, Desborough, six colonels, and one major, were deprived of their Commissions for having subscribed the copy of the petition sent to Colonel Okey; and, by a second, Fleetwood was dismissed from his office of commander-in-chief, and made president of a board of seven members established for the government of the army. Aware, however, that he might expect resistance, the republican chieftain called his friends around him during the night; and, at the dawn of day, it was discovered that he had taken military possession of King-street and the Palace-yard with two regiments of foot and four troops of horse, who protested aloud that they would live and die with the parliament.[1][c]

[Footnote 1: Journals, Sept. 28, Oct. 5, 10, 11, 12. Ludlow, ii. 229, 247. Carte’s Letters, ii, 246. Thurloe, vii. 755. Declaration of General Council of Officers, 9-16. True Narrative of the Proceedings in Parliament, Council of State, &c., published by special order, 1659. Printed by John Redmayne.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Oct 11.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. Oct 12.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. Oct 13.]

Lambert mustered about three thousand men. His first care was to intercept the access of members to the house, and to prevent the egress of the militia from the city. He then marched to Westminster. Meeting the speaker, who was attended by his guard, he ordered the officer on duty to dismount, gave the command to Major Creed, one of those who had been deprived of their commissions by the preceding vote, and scornfully directed him to conduct the “lord-general” to Whitehall, whence he was permitted to return to his own house. In Westminster, the two parties faced each other; but the ardour of the privates did not correspond with that of the leaders; and, having so often fought in the same ranks, they showed no disposition to imbrue their hands in each other’s blood. In the mean time the council of state assembled: on the one side Lambert and Desborough, on the other Hazlerig and Morley, appeared to support their pretensions; much time was spent in complaint and recrimination, much in hopeless attempts to reconcile the parties; but the cause of the military continued to make converts; the advocates of the “rump,” aware that to resist was fruitless, consented to yield; and it was stipulated that the house should cease to sit, that the council of officers should provide for the public peace, arrange a new form of government, and submit it to the approbation of a new parliament. An order, that the forces on both sides should retire to their respective quarters, was gladly obeyed; the men mixed together as friends and brothers, and reciprocally promised never more to draw the sword against each other.[1]

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 685. Journals, Oct. 13. Clar. Pap. iii. 581, 590. Ludlow, ii. 247-251. Ludlow’s account differs considerably from that by Whitelock. But the former was in Ireland, the latter present at the council.]

Thus a second time the supreme authority devolved on the meeting of officers at Wallingford House. They immediately established their favourite plan for the government of the army. The office of commander-in-chief, in its plenitude of power, was restored to Fleetwood; the rank of major-general of the forces in Great Britain was given to Lambert; and all those officers who refused to subscribe a new engagement, were removed from their commands. At the same time they annulled by their supreme authority all proceedings in parliament on the 10th, 11th, and 12th of October, vindicated their own conduct in a publication with the title of “The Army’s Plea,"[1] vested the provisional exercise of the civil authority in a committee of safety of twenty-three members, and denounced the penalties of treason against all who should refuse to obey its orders, or should venture to levy forces without its permission. An attempt was even made to replace Richard Cromwell in the protectorial dignity;[a] for this purpose he came from Hampshire to London, escorted by three troops of horse; but his supporters in the meeting were out-voted by a small majority, and he retired to Hampton Court.[2]

[Footnote 1: See Declaration of the General Council of Officers, 17. The Army’s Plea for its Present Practice, printed by Henry Hills, printer to the army, 1659, is in many parts powerfully written. The principal argument is, that as the parliament, though bound by the solemn league and covenant to defend the king’s person, honour, and dignity, did not afterwards scruple to arraign, condemn, and execute him because he had broken his trust; so the army, though they had engaged to be true and faithful to the parliament, might lawfully rise against it, when they found that it did not preserve the just rights and liberties of the people. This condition was implied in the engagement; otherwise the making of the engagement would have been a sin, and the keeping thereof would have been a sin also, and so an adding of sin to sin.]

[Footnote 2: Whitelock, 685, 686. Ludlow, ii. 250, 286, 287. Clar. Pap. 591. At the restoration, Richard, to escape from his creditors, fled to the continent; and, after an expatriation of almost twenty years, returned to England to the neighbourhood of Cheshunt, where he died in 1713, at the age of eighty-six.–Noble, i. 228.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Oct 26.]

Of all the changes which had surprised and perplexed the nation since the death of the last king, none had been received with such general disapprobation as the present. It was not that men lamented the removal of the Rump; but they feared the capricious and arbitrary rule of the army; and, when they contrasted their unsettled state with the tranquillity formerly enjoyed under the monarchy, many were not backward in the expression of their wishes for the restoration of the ancient line of their princes. The royalists laboured to improve this favourable disposition; yet their efforts might have been fruitless, had the military been united among themselves. But among the officers there were several who had already made their peace with Charles by the promise of their services, and many who secretly retained a strong attachment to Hazlerig and his party in opposition to Lambert. In Ireland, Barrow, who had been sent as their representative from Wallingford House, found the army so divided and wavering, that each faction alternately obtained a short and precarious superiority; and in Scotland, Cobbet, who arrived there on a similar mission, was, with seventeen other officers who approved of his proposals, imprisoned by order of Monk.[1]

From this moment the conduct of Monk will claim a considerable share of the reader’s attention. Ever since the march of Cromwell in pursuit of the king to Worcester he had commanded in Scotland; where, instead of concerning himself with the intrigues and parties in England, he appeared to have no other occupation

[Footnote 1: Ludlow, ii. 237, 252, 259, 262, 300. Clar. Pap. iii. 591. Carte’s Letters, 266.]

than the duties of his place, to preserve the discipline of his army, and enforce the obedience of the Scots. His despatches to Cromwell from Scotland form a striking contrast with those from the other officers of the time. There is in them no parade of piety, no flattery of the protector, no solicitation for favours. They are short, dry, and uninteresting, confined entirely to matters of business, and those only of indispensable necessity. In effect, the distinctive characteristic of the man was an impenetrable secrecy.[1] Whatever were his predilections or opinions, his wishes or designs, he kept them locked up within his own breast. He had no confidant, nor did he ever permit himself to be surprised into an unguarded avowal. Hence all parties, royalists, protectorists, and republicans, claimed him for their own, though that claim was grounded on their hopes, not on his conduct. Charles had been induced to make to him repeatedly the most tempting offers, which were supported by the solicitations of his wife and his domestic chaplain; Monk listened to them without displeasure, though he never unbosomed himself to the agents or to his chaplain so far as to put himself in their power. Cromwell had obtained some information of these intrigues; but, unable to discover any real ground of suspicion, he contented himself with putting Monk on his guard by a bantering postscript to one of his letters. “Tis said,” he added, “there is a cunning fellow in Scotland,

[Footnote 1: “His natural taciturnity was such, that most of his friends, who thought they knew him best, looked upon George Monk to have no other craft in him than that of a plain soldier, who would obey the parliament’s orders, and see that his own were obeyed."–Price, Mystery and Method of his Majesty’s happy Restoration, in Select Tracts relating to the Civil Wars in England, published by Baron Maseres, ii. 700.]

called George Monk, who lies in wait there to serve Charles Stuart; pray use your diligence to take him and send him up to me."[1] After the fall of the protector Richard, he became an object of greater distrust. To undermine his power, Fleetwood ordered two regiments of horse attached to the Scottish army to return to England; and the republicans, when the military commissions were issued by the speaker, removed a great number of his officers, and supplied their places with creatures of their own. Monk felt these affronts: discontent urged him to seek revenge; and, when he understood that Booth was at the head of a considerable force, he dictated a letter to the speaker, complaining of the proceedings of parliament, and declaring that, as they had abandoned the real principles of the old cause, they must not expect the support of his army. His object was to animate the insurgents and embarrass their adversaries; but, on the very morning on which the letter was to be submitted for signature to his principal officers, the news of Lambert’s victory arrived;[a] the dangerous instrument was instantly destroyed, and the secret most religiously kept by the few who had been privy to the intention of the general.[2]

To this abortive attempt Monk, notwithstanding his wariness, had been stimulated by his brother, a clergyman of Cornwall, who visited him with a message from Sir John Grenville by commission from Charles Stuart. After the failure of Booth, the general dismissed him with a letter of congratulation to the parliament, but without any answer to Grenville, and under an oath to keep secret whatever he had learnt

[Footnote 1: Price, 712.]

[Footnote 2: Id. 711, 716, 721.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. August 23.]

respecting the past, or the intended projects of his brother.[1] But the moment that Monk heard of the expulsion of the members,[a] and of the superior rank conferred on Lambert, he determined to appear openly as the patron of the vanquished, under the alluring, though ambiguous, title of "asserter of the ancient laws and liberties of the country.” Accordingly, he secured with trusty garrisons the castle of Edinburgh and the citadel of Leith,[b] sent a strong detachment to occupy Berwick, and took the necessary measures to raise and discipline a numerous force of cavalry. At Leith was held a general council of officers; they approved of his object, engaged to stand by him, and announced their determination, by letters directed to Lenthall, the speaker, to the council at Wallingford House, and to the commanders of the fleet in the Downs, and of the army in Ireland. It excited, however, no small surprise, that the general, while he thus professed to espouse the defence of the parliament, cashiered all the officers introduced by the parliament into his army, and restored all those who had been expelled. The more discerning began to suspect his real intentions;[2] but Hazlerig and his party were too

[Footnote 1: All that Grenville could learn from the messenger was, that his brother regretted the failure of Booth, and would oppose the arbitrary attempts of the military in England; an answer which, though favourable as far as it went, still left the king in uncertainty as to his real intentions.–Clar. Pap. iii. 618.]

[Footnote 2: Ludlow, ii. 269. Whitelock, 686, 689, 691. Price, 736, 743. Skinner, 106-109. Monk loudly asserted the contrary. “I do call God to witness,” he says in the letter to the speaker, Oct. 20, “that the asserting of a commonwealth is the only intent of my heart."–True Narrative, 28. When Price remonstrated with him, he replied: “You see who are about me and write these things. I must not show any dislike of them. I perceive they are jealous enough of me already."–Price, 746. The fact probably was, that Monk was neither royalist nor republican: that he sought only his own interest, and had determined to watch every turn of affairs, and to declare at last in favour of that party which appeared most likely to obtain the superiority.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Oct. 17.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. Oct. 18.]

elated to dwell on the circumstance, and, under the promise of his support, began to organize the means of resistance against their military oppressors.

Monk soon discovered that he was embarked in a most hazardous undertaking. The answers to his letters disapproved of his conduct; and the knowledge of these answers kindled among his followers a spirit of disaffection which led to numerous desertions. From the general of an army obedient to his commands, he had dwindled into the leader of a volunteer force, which it was necessary to coax and persuade. Two councils were formed, one of the colonels of the longest standing, the other of all the commissioned officers. The first perused the public despatches received by the general, and wrote the answers, which were signed by him as the chairman; the other was consulted on all measures respecting the conduct of the army, and confirmed or rejected the opinion of the colonels by the majority of voices. But if Monk was controlled by this arrangement, it served to screen him from suspicion. The measures adopted were taken as the result of the general will.

To the men at Wallingford House it became of the first importance to win by intimidation, or to reduce by force, this formidable opponent. Lambert marched against him from London at the head of seven thousand men; but the mind of the major-general was distracted by doubts and suspicions; and, before his departure, he exacted a solemn promise from Fleetwood to agree to no accommodation, either with the king, or with Hazlerig, till he had previously received the advice and concurrence of Lambert himself.[1] To Monk delay was as necessary as expedition was desirable to his opponents. In point of numbers and experience the force under his command was no match for that led by Lambert, but his magazines and treasury were amply supplied, while his adversary possessed not money enough to keep his army together for more than a few weeks. Before the major-general reached Newcastle, he met three deputies from Monk on their way to treat with the council in the capital. As no arguments could induce them to open the negotiation with him, he allowed them to proceed, and impatiently awaited the result. After much discussion, an agreement was concluded in London; but Monk, instead of ratifying it with his signature, discovered,[a] or pretended to discover, in it much that was obscure or ambiguous, or contrary to the instructions received by the deputies; his council agreed with him in opinion; and a second negotiation was opened with Lambert at Newcastle, to obtain from him an explanation of the meaning of the officers in the metropolis. Thus delay was added to delay; and Monk improved the time to dismiss even the privates whose sentiments were suspected, and to fill up the vacancies in the regiments of infantry by levies among the Scots. At the same time he called a convention of the Scottish estates at Berwick, of two representatives from each county and one from each borough, recommended to them the peace of the country during his absence, and obtained from them the grant of a year’s arrears of their taxes, amounting to sixty thousand pounds, in

[Footnote 1: See the Conferences of Ludlow and Whitelock with Fleetwood, Ludlow, ii. 277; Whitelock, 690.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Nov. 19.]

addition to the excise and customs. He then fixed his head-quarters at Coldstream.[1]

In the mean while the detention of Lambert in the north by the artifices of Monk had given occasion to many important events in the south. Within the city several encounters had taken place between the military and the apprentices;[2] a free parliament had become the general cry; and the citizens exhorted each other to pay no taxes imposed by any other authority. Lawson, though he wavered at first, declared against the army, and advanced with his squadron up the river as far as Gravesend. Hazlerig and Morley were admitted into Portsmouth by the governor, were joined by the force sent against them by Fleetwood, and marched towards London, that they might open a communication with the fleet in the river. Alarm produced in the committee of safety the most contradictory councils. A voice ventured to suggest the restoration of Charles Stuart; but it was replied that their offences against the family of Stuart were of too black a dye to be forgiven; that the king might be lavish of promises now that he stood in need of their services; but that the vengeance of parliament would absolve him from the obligation, when the monarchy should once be established. The final resolution was to call a new parliament against the 24th of January, and to appoint twenty-one conservators of the public peace during the interval. But they

[Footnote 1: Price, 741-744. Whitelock, 688, 699. Ludlow, 269, 271, 273. Skinner, 161, 164.]

[Footnote 2: The posts occupied by the army within the city were, “St. Paul’s Church, the Royall Exchange, Peeter-house in Aldersgate-street, and Bernet’s Castle, Gresham Coledge, Sion Coledge. Without London, were the Musses, Sumersett-house, Whitehall, St. James’s, Scotland-yeard."–MS. Diary by Thomas Rugge.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Dec. 8.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. Dec. 17.]

reckoned on an authority which they no longer possessed. The fidelity of the common soldiers had been shaken by the letters of Monk, and the declaration of Lawson. Putting themselves under the command of the officers who had been lately dismissed, they mustered[a] in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, marched before the house of Lenthall in Chancery Lame, and saluted him with three volleys of musketry as the representative of the parliament and lord-general of the army. Desborough, abandoned by his regiment, fled in despair towards Lambert; and Fleetwood, who for some days had done nothing but weep and pray, and complain that “the Lord had spit in his face," tamely endeavoured to disarm by submission the resentment of his adversaries. He sought the speaker, fell on his knees before him, and surrendered his commission.[1]

Thus the Rump was again triumphant. The members, with Lenthall at their head, resumed[b] possession of the house amidst the loud acclamations of the soldiery. Their first care was to establish a committee for the government of the army, and to order the regiments in the north to separate and march to their respective quarters. Of those among their colleagues who had supported the late committee of safety, they excused some, and punished others by suspension, or exclusion, or imprisonment: orders were sent to Lambert, and the most active of his associates, to withdraw from the army to their homes, and then instructions were given to the magistrates to take them into custody. A council of state was appointed, and into the oath to be taken by the

[Footnote 1: Ludlow, 268, 276, 282, 287, 289, 290, 296, 298. Whitelock, 689, 690, 691. Clar. Pap. 625, 629, 636, 641, 647.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. Dec. 24.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. Dec. 26.]

members was introduced a new and most comprehensive abjuration of kingship and the family of Stuart. All officers commissioned during the interruption by any other authority than that of Monk were broken; the army was entirely remodelled; and the time of the house was daily occupied by the continued introduction of officers to receive their commissions in person from the hand of the speaker.[1]

In the mean while, Monk, to subdue or disperse the army of Lambert, had raised up a new and formidable enemy in his rear. Lord Fairfax was become a convert to the cause of monarchy; to him the numerous royalists in Yorkshire looked up as leader; and he, on the solemn assurance of Monk that he would join him within twelve days or perish in the attempt, undertook to call together his friends, and to surprise the city of York. On the first day of the new year,[a] each performed his promise. The gates of York were thrown open to Fairfax by the Cavaliers confined within its walls;[2] and Monk, with his army, crossed the Tweed on his march against the advanced posts of the enemy. Thus the flame of civil war was again kindled in the north; within two days it was extinguished. The messenger from parliament ordered Lambert’s forces to withdraw to their respective quarters. Dispirited by the defection of the military in the south, they dared not disobey: at Northallerton the officers bade adieu with tears to their general; and Lambert retired in privacy to a house which he possessed in the county. Still, though the weather was

[Footnote 1: Journals, Dec. 26, Jan. 31.]

[Footnote 2: That the rising under Fairfax was in reality a rising of royalists, and prompted by the promises of Monk, is plain from the narrative of Monkton, in the Lansdowne MSS. No. 988, f. 320, 334. See also Price, 748.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Jan. 1.]

severe, though the roads were deeply covered with snow, Monk continued[a] his march; and, at York, spent five days in consultation with Fairfax; but to the advice of that nobleman, that he should remain there, assume the command of their united forces, and proclaim the king, he replied that, in the present temper of his officers, it would prove a dangerous, a pernicious, experiment. On the arrival of what he had long expected, an invitation to Westminster, he resumed his march, and Fairfax, having received the thanks of the parliament, disbanded[b] his insurrectionary force.[1]

At York, the general had caned[c] an officer who charged him with the design of restoring the kingly government; at Nottingham, he prevented with difficulty the officers from signing an engagement to obey the parliament in all things “except the bringing in of Charles Stuart;” and at Leicester, he was compelled to suffer[d] a letter to be written in his name to the petitioners from Devonshire, stating his opinion that the monarchy could not be re-established, representing the danger of recalling the members excluded in 1648, and inculcating the duty of obedience to the parliament as it was then constituted.[2] Here he was met by two of the most active members, Scot and Robinson, who had been commissioned to accompany him during his journey, under the pretence of doing him honour, but, in reality, to sound his disposition, and to act as spies on his conduct. He received them with respect as the representatives of the sovereign authority; and so flattered were they by his attentions, so duped by his wariness, that they could not see through the veil which he spread over his intentions.

[Footnote 1: Price, 749-753. Skinner, 196, 200, 205. Journals, Jan. 6.]

[Footnote 2: Ibid. 754. Kennet’s Register, 32.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Jan. 12.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. Jan. 16.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1660. Jan. 19.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1660. Jan. 23.]

As he advanced, he received at every stage addresses from boroughs, cities, and counties, praying him to restore the excluded members, and to procure a free and a full parliament. With much affectation of humility, Monk referred the deputies to the two delegates of the supreme power, who haughtily rebuked them for their officiousness, while the friends of Monk laboured to keep alive their hopes by remote hints and obscure predictions.[1]

To lull the jealousy of the parliament, Monk had taken with him from York no more than five thousand men, a force considerably inferior to that which was quartered in London and Westminster. But from St. Alban’s he wrote[a] to the speaker, requesting that five of the regiments in the capital might be removed before his arrival, alleging the danger of quarrels and seduction, if his troops were allowed to mix with those who had been so recently engaged in rebellion. The order was instantly made; but the men refused[b] to obey. Why, they asked, were they to leave their quarters for the accommodation of strangers? Why were they to be sent from the capital, while their pay was several weeks in arrear? The royalists laboured to inflame the mutineers, and Lambert was on the watch, prepared to place himself at their head; but the distribution of a sum of money appeased their murmurs; they consented to march; and the next morning[c] the general entered at the head of his army, and proceeded to the quarters assigned to him at Whitehall.[2]

Soon after his arrival, he was invited to attend and

[Footnote 1: Price, 754. Merc. Polit. No. 604. Philips, 595. Journals, Jan. 16.]

[Footnote 2: Price, 755, 757, 758. Jour. Jan. 30. Skinner, 219-221. Philips, 594, 595, 596. Clar. Pap. iii. 666, 668. Pepys, i. 19, 21.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Jan. 28.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. Feb. 2.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1660. Feb. 3.]

receive the thanks of the house. A chair had been placed for him within the bar: he stood uncovered behind it; and, in reply[a] to the speaker, extenuated his own services, related the answers which he had given to the addresses, warned the parliament against a multiplicity of oaths and engagements, prayed them not to give any share of power to the Cavaliers or fanatics, and recommended to their care the settlement of Ireland and the administration of justice in Scotland. If there was much in this speech to please, there was also much that gave offence. Scot observed that the servant had already learned to give directions to his masters.[1]

As a member of the council of state, he was summoned to abjure the house of Stuart, according to the late order of parliament. He demurred. Seven of the counsellors, he observed, had not yet abjured, and he wished to know their reasons, for the satisfaction of his own conscience. Experience had shown that such oaths were violated as easily as they were taken, and to him it appeared an offence against Providence to swear never to acquiesce in that which Providence might possibly ordain. He had given the strongest proofs of his devotion to parliament: if these were not sufficient, let them try him again; he was ready to give more.[2]

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 6. New Parl. Hist. iii. 1575. Philips, 597. Price, 759. The Lord-general Monk, his Speech. Printed by J. Macock, 1660.]

[Footnote 2: Gumble, 228. Price, 759, 760. Philips, 595. About this time, a parcel of letters to the king, written by different persons in different ciphers, and intrusted to the care of a Mr. Leonard, was intercepted by Lockhart at Dunkirk, and sent by him to the council. When the writers were first told that the letters had been deciphered, they laughed at the information as of a thing impracticable; but were soon undeceived by the decipherer, who sent to them by the son of the bishop of Ely copies of their letters in cipher, with a correct interlineary explanation of each. They were astonished and alarmed; and, to save themselves from the consequences of the discovery, purchased of him two of the original letters at the price of three hundred pounds.–Compare Barwick’s Life, 171, and App. 402, 412, 415, 422, with the correspondence on the subject in the Clarendon Papers, iii. 668, 681, 696, 700, 715. After this, all letters of importance were conveyed through the hands of Mrs. Mary Knatchbull, the abbess of the English convent in Gand.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Feb. 6.]

The sincerity of this declaration was soon put to the test. The loyal party in the city, especially among the moderate Presbyterians, had long been on the increase. At the last elections the common council had been filled with members of a new character; and the declaration which they issued demanded "a full and free parliament, according to the ancient and fundamental laws of the land.” Of the assembly sitting in Westminster, as it contained no representative from the city, no notice was taken; the taxes which it had imposed were not paid; and the common council, as if it had been an independent authority, received and answered addresses from the neighbouring counties. This contumacy, in the opinion of the parliamentary leaders, called for prompt and exemplary punishment; and it was artfully suggested that, by making Monk the minister of their vengeance, they would open a wide breach between him and their opponents. Two hours after midnight he received[a] an order to march into the city, to arrest eleven of the principal citizens, to remove the posts and chains which had lately been fixed in the streets, and to destroy the portcullises and the gates. After a moment’s hesitation, he resolved to obey, rather than hazard the loss of his commission. The citizens received him with groans and hisses; the soldiers murmured; the officers tendered their resignations. He merely replied that his orders left nothing to his discretion; but the reply was made with a sternness of

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Feb. 9.]

tone, and a gloominess of countenance, which showed, and probably was intended to show, that he acted with reluctance and with self-reproach.[1]

As soon as the posts and chains were removed, Monk suggested, in a letter to the speaker, that enough had been done to subdue the refractory spirit of the citizens. But the parliamentary leaders were not satisfied: they voted that he should execute his former orders; and the demolition of the gates and portcullises was effected. The soldiers loudly proclaimed their discontent: the general, mortified and ashamed, though he had been instructed to quarter them in the city, led them back to Whitehall.[2] There, on the review of these proceedings, he thought that he discovered proofs of a design, first to commit him with the citizens, and then to discard him entirely. For the house, while he was so ungraciously employed, had received, with a show of favour, a petition from the celebrated Praise-God Barebone, praying that no man might sit in parliament, or hold any public office, who refused to abjure the pretensions of Charles Stuart, or of any other single person. Now this was the very case of the general, and his suspicions were confirmed by the reasoning of his confidential advisers. With their aid, a letter to the speaker was prepared[a] the same evening, and approved the next morning by the council of officers. In it the latter were made to complain that they had been rendered the instruments of personal resentment against the citizens, and to require that by the following Friday every vacancy in the house should be filled up, preparatory to its

[Footnote 1: Journ. Feb. 9. Price, 761. Ludlow, ii. 336. Clar. Pap. iii. 674, 691. Gumble, 236. Skinner, 231-237.]

[Footnote 2: Journ. Feb. 9. Philips, 599.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Feb. 10.]

subsequent dissolution and the calling of a new parliament. Without waiting for an answer, Monk marched back into Finsbury Fields: at his request, a common council (that body had recently been dissolved by a vote of the parliament) was summoned; and the citizens heard from the mouth of the general that he, who yesterday had come among them as an enemy by the orders of others, was come that day as a friend by his own choice; and that his object was to unite his fortune with theirs, and by their assistance to obtain a full and free parliament for the nation. This speech was received with the loudest acclamations. The bells were tolled; the soldiers were feasted; bonfires were lighted; and among the frolics of the night was “the roasting of the rump,” a practical joke which long lived in the traditions of the city. Scot and Robinson, who had been sent to lead back the general to Whitehall, slunk away in secrecy, that they might escape the indignation of the populace.[1]

At Westminster, the parliamentary leaders affected a calmness and intrepidity which they did not feel. Of the insult offered to their authority they took no notice; but, as an admonition to Monk, they brought in a bill[a] to appoint his rival, Fleetwood, commander-in-chief in England and Scotland. The intervention of the Sunday allowed more sober counsels to prevail.

[Footnote 1: Price, 765-768. Clar. Pap. iii. 681, 692, 714. Ludlow, 337. Gumble, 249. Skinner, 237-243. Old Parl. Hist. xxii. 94. Pepys, i. 24, 25. “At Strand-bridge I could at one time tell thirty-one fires; in King-street, seven or eight, and all along burning, and roasting, and drinking for rumps; there being rumps tied upon sticks, and carried up and down. The butchers at the May-pole in the Strand rang a peal with their knives, when they were going to sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate-hill there was one turning of the spit that had a rump tied to it, and another basting of it. Indeed it was past imagination."–Ibid. 28.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Feb. 11.]

They solicited the general to return to Whitehall; they completed the bill for the qualifications of candidates and electors; and, on the day fixed by the letter of the officers, ordered[a] writs to be issued for the filling up of the vacancies in the representation. This measure had been forced upon them; yet they had the ingenuity to make it subservient to their own interest, by inserting a provision in the act, that no man should choose or be chosen, who had not already bound himself to support a republican form of government. But immediately the members excluded in 1648 brought forward their claim to sit, and Monk assumed the appearance of the most perfect indifference between the parties. At his invitation, nine of the leaders on each side argued the question before him and his officers; and the result was, that the latter expressed their willingness to support the secluded members, on condition that they should pledge themselves to settle the government of the army, to raise money to pay the arrears, to issue writs for a new parliament to sit on the 20th of April, and to dissolve themselves before that period. The general returned[b] to Whitehall; the secluded members attended his summons; and, after a long speech, declaratory of his persuasion that a republican form of government and a moderate presbyterian kirk were necessary to secure and perpetuate the tranquillity of the nation, he advised them to go and resume their seats. Accompanied by a great number of officers, they walked to the house; the guard, under the command of Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, opened to let them pass; and no opposition was made by the speaker or the members.[1] Hazlerig, however, and the

[Footnote 1: Journals, Feb. 11, 13, 15, 17, 21. Price, 768-773. Ludlow, ii. 345, 351, 353. Skinner, 256-264. Clar. Pap. 663, 682, 688. Gumble, 260, 263. Philips, 600. The number of secluded members then living was one hundred and ninety-four, of members sitting or allowed to sit by the orders of the house, eighty-nine.–"A Declaration of the True State of the Matter of Fact,” 57.]

[Sideline a: A.D. 1660. Feb. 17.] [Sideline b: A.D. 1660. Feb. 21.]

more devoted of his adherents, rose and withdrew–a fortunate secession for the royalists; otherwise, with the addition of those among the restored members who adhered to a commonwealth, the republicans might on many questions have still commanded a majority.[1]

To the Cavaliers, the conduct of Monk on this occasion proved a source of the most distressing perplexity. On the one hand, by introducing the secluded members he had greatly advanced the cause of royalty. For though Holles, Pierpoint, Popham, and their friends still professed the doctrines which they had maintained during the treaty in the Isle of Wight, though they manifested the same hatred of popery and prelacy, though they still inculcated the necessity of limiting the prerogative in the choice of the officers of state and in the command of the army, yet they were royalists by principle, and had, several of them, made the most solemn promises to the exiled king of labouring strenuously for his restoration. On the other hand, that Monk at the very time when he gave the law without control, should declare so loudly in favour of a republican government and a presbyterian kirk, could not fail to alarm both Charles and his abettors.[2] Neither was this the only instance: to all, Cavaliers or republicans, who approached him to discover his intentions, he uniformly professed the same sentiments, occasionally confirming his professions with oaths and imprecations. To explain this inconsistency between

[Footnote 1: Hutchinson, 362.]

[Footnote 2: Clar. Hist. iii. 720, 721, 723, 724; Papers, ii. 698.]

the tendency of his actions and the purport of his language, we are told by those whom he admitted to his private counsels, that it was forced upon him by the necessity of his situation; that, without it, he must have forfeited the confidence of the army, which believed its safety and interest to be intimately linked with the existence of the commonwealth. According to Ludlow, the best soldier and statesman in the opposite party, Monk had in view an additional object, to deceive the suspicions and divert the vigilance of his adversaries; and so successfully had he imposed on the credulity of many (Hazlerig himself was of the number), that, in defiance of every warning, they blindly trusted to his sincerity, till their eyes were opened by the introduction of the secluded members.[1]

In parliament the Presbyterian party now ruled without opposition. They annulled[a] all votes relative to their own expulsion from the house in 1648; they selected a new council of state, in which the most influential members were royalists; they appointed Monk commander-in-chief of the forces in the three kingdoms, and joint commander of the fleet with Admiral Montague; they granted him the sum of twenty thousand pounds in lieu of the palace at Hampton Court, settled on him by the republican party; they discharged[b] from confinement, and freed from the penalty of sequestration, Sir George Booth and his associates, a great number of Cavaliers, and the Scottish lords taken after the battle at Worcester; they restored the common council, borrowed sixty thousand pounds for the immediate pay of the army,

[Footnote 1: Price, 773. Ludlow, 349, 355. Clar. Pap. iii. 678, 697, 703, 711.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. Feb. 21.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. March.]

declared the Presbyterian confession of faith to be that of the church of England, ordered copies of the solemn league and covenant to be hung up in all churches, offered rewards for the apprehension of Catholic priests, urged the execution of the laws against Catholic recusants, and fixed the 15th of March for their own dissolution, the 25th of April for the meeting of a new parliament.[1]

Here, however, a serious difficulty arose. The House of Commons (according to the doctrine of the secluded members, it could be nothing more) was but a single branch of the legislature. By what right could it pretend to summon a parliament? Ought not the House of Lords, the peers who had been excluded in 1649, to concur? Or rather, to proceed according to law, ought not the king either to appoint a commission to hold a parliament, as was usually done in Ireland, or to name a guardian invested with such power, as was the practice formerly, when our monarchs occasionally resided in France? But, on this point, Monk was inflexible. He placed guards at the door of the House of Lords to prevent the entrance of the peers; and he refused to listen to any expedient which might imply an acknowledgment of the royal authority. To the arguments urged by others, he replied,[a] that the parliament according to law determined by the death of Charles I.; that the present house could justify its sitting on no other ground but that of necessity, which did not apply to the House of Lords; and that it was in vain to expect the submission of the army to a parliament called by royal authority. The military had, with reluctance, consented to the restoration of

[Footnote 1: Journals, passim.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. March 3.]

the secluded members; and to ask more of them at present was to hazard all the advantages which had hitherto been obtained.[1]

Encouraged by the downfall of the republicans, the royalists throughout the country expressed their sentiments without restraint. In some places Charles was proclaimed by the populace; several ministers openly prayed for him in the churches: the common council, in their address, declared themselves not averse to his restoration; and the house itself was induced to repeal[a] the celebrated engagement in favour of a commonwealth, without a single person or a house of peers, and to embody under trusty officers the militia of the city and the counties, as a counterpoise to the republican interest in the army. The judges of the late king, and the purchasers of forfeited property, began to tremble. They first tempted the ambition of the lord-general with the offer of the sovereign authority.[2] Rejected by him, they appealed to the military; they represented the loss of their arrears,

[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 704. Ludlow, 364, 365. Price, 773.]

[Footnote 2: Gumble, 270. Two offers of assistance were made to the general, on the supposition that he might aspire to the supreme power; one from the republicans, which I have mentioned, another from Bordeaux, the French ambassador, in the name of Cardinal Mazarin. On one of these offers he was questioned by Sir Anthony Ashley Copper in the council of state. If we may believe Clarges, one of his secret advisers, it was respecting the former which Clarges mentioned to Cooper. With respect to the offer from Bordeaux, he tells us that it was made through Clarges himself, and scornfully rejected by Monk, who nevertheless consented to receive a visit from Bordeaux, on condition that the subject should not be mentioned.–Philips, 602, 604. Locke, on the contrary, asserts that Monk accepted the offer of the French minister; that his wife, through loyalty to the king, betrayed the secret; and that Cooper put to the general such searching questions that he was confused, and, in proof of his fidelity, took away the commissions of several officers of whom the council was jealous.–Memoirs of Shaftesbury, in Kennet’s Register, 86. Locke, ix, 279. See note (K).]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. March 10.]

and of the property which they had acquired, as the infallible consequences of the restoration of the royal exile; and they so far wrought on the fears of the officers, that an engagement to oppose all attempts to set up a single person was presented[a] to Monk for his signature, with a request that he would solicit the concurrence of the parliament. A second council of officers was held the next morning;[b] the general urged the inexpediency of troubling the house with new questions, when it was on the point of dissolving itself; and by the address and influence of his friends, though with considerable difficulty, he procured the suppression of the obnoxious paper. In a short time he ordered the several officers to join their respective regiments, appointed a commission to inspect and reform the different corps, expelled all the officers whose sentiments he had reason to distrust, and then demanded and obtained from the army an engagement to abstain from all interference in matters of state, and to submit all things to the authority of the new parliament.[1]

Nineteen years and a half had now elapsed since the long parliament first assembled–years of revolution and bloodshed, during which the nation had made the trial of almost every form of government, to return at last to that form from which it had previously departed. On the 16th of March, one day later than was originally fixed, its existence, which had been illegally prolonged since the death of Charles I., was terminated[c] by its own act.[2] The reader is already acquainted with its history. For the glorious stand

[Footnote 1: Philips, 603, 606. Price, 781. Kennet’s Reg. 113. Thurloe, vii. 852, 859, 870. Pepys, i. 43. Skinner, 279-284.]

[Footnote 2: Journals, March 16.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. March 14.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. March 15.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1660. March 16.]

which it made against the encroachments of the crown, it deserves both admiration and gratitude; its subsequent proceedings assumed a more ambiguous character; ultimately they led to anarchy and military despotism. But, whatever were its merits or demerits, of both posterity has reaped the benefit. To the first, we are indebted for many of the rights which we now enjoy; by the second, we are warned of the evils which result from political changes effected by violence, and in opposition to the habits and predilections of the people.

Monk had now spent more than two months in England, and still his intentions were covered with a veil of mystery, which no ingenuity, either of the royalists or of the republicans, could penetrate. Sir John Grenville, with whom the reader is already acquainted, paid frequent visits to him at St. James’s; but the object of the Cavalier was suspected, and his attempts[a] to obtain a private interview were defeated by the caution of the general. After the dissolution, Morrice, the confidential friend of both, brought them together, and Grenville delivered to Monk a most flattering letter from the king. He received and perused it with respect. This was, he observed, the first occasion on which he could express with safety his devotion to the royal cause; but he was still surrounded with men of hostile or doubtful sentiments; the most profound secrecy was still necessary; Grenville might confer in private with Morrice, and must consent to be himself the bearer of the general’s answer. The heads of that answer were reduced to writing. In it Monk prayed the king to send him a conciliatory letter, which, at the proper season, he might lay before the parliament; for himself he asked

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. March 10.]

nothing; he would not name, as he was desired, his reward; it was not for him to strike a bargain with his sovereign; but, if he might express his opinion, he advised Charles to promise a general or nearly general pardon, liberty of conscience, the confirmation of the national sales, and the payment of the arrears due to the army. As soon as this paper had been, read, he threw it into the fire, and bade Grenville rely on his memory for its contents.[1]

By Charles at Brussels the messenger was received as an angel from heaven. The doubts which had so long tormented his mind were suddenly removed; the crown, contrary to expectation, was offered[a] without previous conditions; and nothing more was required than that he should aid with his pen the efforts of the general; but when he communicated the glad tidings to Ormond, Hyde, and Nicholas, these counsellors discovered that the advice, suggested by Monk, was derogatory to the interests of the throne and the personal character of the monarch, and composed a royal declaration which, while it professed to make to the nation the promises recommended by Monk, in reality neutralized their effect, by subjecting them to such limitations as might afterwards be imposed by the wisdom of parliament. This paper was enclosed[b] within a letter to the speaker of the House of Commons; another letter was addressed to the House of Lords; a third to Monk and the army; a fourth to Montague and the navy; and a fifth to the lord mayor and the city. To the general, open copies were transmitted, that he might deliver or destroy the originals

[Footnote 1: Clar. Hist. iii. 734-736. Price, 785. Philips, 605. Clar. Pap. iii. 706, 711. From the last authorities it is plain that Mordaunt was intrusted with the secret as well as Grenville–also a Mr. Herne, probably a fictitious name.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. March 26.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. April 2.]

as he thought fit. Notwithstanding the alterations made at Brussels, he professed himself satisfied with the declaration, and ordered[a] Grenville to keep the papers in his custody, till the proper season should arrive.[1]

In the mean while, the writs for the new parliament had been issued; and, as there was no court to influence, no interference of the military to control the elections, the result may be fairly taken to express the sense of the country. The republicans, the Cavaliers, the Presbyterians, all made every effort in their power to procure the return of members of congenial sentiments. Of the three parties, the last was beyond comparison the most powerful, had not division paralyzed its influence. The more rigid Presbyterians, though they opposed the advocates of the commonwealth because they were sectaries, equally deprecated the return of the king, because they feared the restoration of episcopacy. A much greater number, who still adhered with constancy to the solemn league and covenant, deemed themselves bound by it to replace the king on the throne, but under the limitations proposed during the treaty in the Isle of Wight. Others, and these the most active and influential, saw no danger to be feared from a moderate episcopacy; and, anxious to obtain honours and preferment, laboured

[Footnote 1: Clar. iii. 737-740, 742-751. Price, 790. Monk had been assured, probably by the French ambassador, that the Spaniards intended to detain the king at Brussels as a hostage for the restoration of Jamaica and Dunkirk. On this account he insisted that the king should leave the Spanish territory, and Charles, having informed the governor of his intention to visit Breda, left Brussels about two hours, if Clarendon be correct, before an order was issued for his detention. The several letters, though written and signed at Brussels, were dated from Breda, and given to Grenville the moment the king placed his foot on the Dutch territory.–Clar. 740.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. April 10.]

by the fervour of their present loyalty to deserve the forgiveness of their past transgressions. These joined with the Cavaliers; their united efforts bore down all opposition; and, in most places, their adversaries either shrunk from the contest, or were rejected by overwhelming majorities.[1]

But the republicans sought for aid in another direction. Their emissaries penetrated into the quarters of the military, where they lamented the approaching ruin of the good old cause, regretted that so many sacrifices had been made, so much blood had been shed in vain, and again insinuated to the officers, that they would forfeit the lands which they had purchased, to the privates, that they would be disbanded and lose their arrears.[2] A spirit of discontent began to spread through several corps, and a great number of officers repaired to the metropolis. But Monk, though he still professed himself a friend to republican government, now ventured to assume a bolder tone. The militia of the city, amounting to fourteen thousand men, was already embodied under his command; he had in his pocket a commission from Charles, appointing him lord-general over all the military in the three kingdoms; and he had resolved, should circumstances compel him to throw off the mask, to proclaim the king, and to summon every faithful subject to repair to the royal standard. He first ordered[a] the officers to return to their posts; he then directed the promise of submission to the new parliament to be tendered to

[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii, 866, 887. Price, 787. Carte’s Letters, ii. 326. Clar. Pap. iii. 705, 714, 726, 730, 731, 733. It appears that many of the royalists were much too active. “When the complaint was made to Monk, he turned it off with a jest, that as there is a fanatic party on the one side, so there is a frantic party on the other” (721, 722).]

[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vii. 870.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. April 9.]

the privates, and every man who refused to make it was immediately discharged.[1] At the same time, the friends of the commonwealth resolved to oppose Lambert, once the idol of the soldiery, to Monk. Lambert, indeed, was a prisoner in the Tower, confined by order of the council, because he had refused to give security for his peaceable behaviour; but, with the aid of a rope, he descended[a] from the window of his bed-chamber, was received by eight watermen in a barge, and found a secure asylum in the city. The citizens, however, were too loyal to listen to the suggestions of the party; he left his concealment, hastened[b] into Warwickshire, solicited, but in vain, the co-operation of Ludlow, collected from the discontented regiments six troops of horse and some companies of foot, and expected in a few days to see himself at the head of a formidable force. But Ingoldsby, who, of a regicide, was become a royalist, met him[c] near Daventry with an equal number; a troop of Lambert’s men under the command of the younger Hazlerig, passed over to his opponents; and the others, when he gave the word to charge, pointed their pistols to the ground. The unfortunate commander immediately turned and fled; Ingoldsby followed; the ploughed land gave the advantage to the stronger horse; the fugitive was overtaken, and, after an ineffectual effort to awaken the pity of his former comrade, submitted to his fate. He was conducted[d] back to the Tower, at the time when the trained bands, the volunteers, and the auxiliaries raised in the city, passed in review before the general in Hyde Park. The auxiliaries drank the king’s health on their knees; Lambert was at the moment driven under Tyburn

[Footnote 1: Clar. Pap. iii. 715.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. April 11.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. April 13.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1660. April 21.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1660. April 24.]

and the spectators hailed with shouts and exclamations the disgrace of the prisoner.[1]

The Convention parliament (so it was called, because it had not been legally summoned) met[a] on the appointed day, the 25th of April. The Presbyterians, by artful management, placed Sir Harbottle Grimstone, one of their party, in the chair; but the Cavaliers, with their adherents, formed a powerful majority, and the new speaker, instead of undertaking to stem, had the prudence to go along with, the stream. Monk sat as representative of Devonshire, his native county.

To neutralize the influence of the Cavaliers among the Commons, the Presbyterian peers who sat in 1648, assembled in the House of Lords, and chose the earl of Manchester for their speaker. But what right had they exclusively to constitute a house of parliament? They had not been summoned in the usual manner by writ; they could not sit as a part of the long parliament, which was now at least defunct; and, if they founded their pretensions on their birthright, as consiliarii nati, other peers were in possession of the same privilege. The question was propounded to the lord-general, who replied that he had no authority to determine the claims of any individual. Encouraged by this answer, a few of the excluded peers attempted to take their seats, and met with no opposition; the example was imitated by others, and in a few days the Presbyterian lords did not amount to more than one-fifth of the house. Still, however, to avoid cavil, the peers who sat in the king’s parliament at Oxford, as well as those whose patents bore date after the

[Footnote 1: Kennet’s Reg. 120. Price, 792, 794. Ludlow, 379. Philips, 607. Clar. Pap. iii. 735.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. April 25.]

commencement of the civil war, abstained for the present from demanding admission.[1]

Monk continued to dissemble. By his direction Grenville applied to a member, who was entering the council-chamber, for an opportunity of speaking to the lord-general. Monk came to the door, received from him a letter, and, recognizing on the seal the royal arms, commanded the guards to take care that the bearer did not depart. In a few minutes Grenville was called in, interrogated by the president as to the manner in which he became possessed of the letter, and ordered to be taken into custody. “That is unnecessary,” said Monk; “I find that he is my near kinsman, and I will be security for his appearance.”

The ice was now[a] broken. Grenville was treated not as a prisoner, but a confidential servant of the sovereign. He delivered to the two houses the letters addressed to them, and received in return a vote of thanks, with a present of five hundred pounds. The letter for the army was read by Monk to his officers, that for the navy by Montague to the captains under his command, and that for the city by the lord mayor to the common council in the Guildhall. Each of these bodies voted an address of thanks and congratulation to the king.

The paper which accompanied the letters to the two houses,–1. granted a free and general pardon to all persons, excepting such as might afterwards be excepted by parliament; ordaining that every division of party should cease, and inviting all who were the subjects of the same sovereign to live in union and harmony; 2. it declared a liberty to tender consciences, and that no man should be disquieted or called in

[Footnote 1: Lords’ Journ. xi. 4, 5, 6.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. May 1.]

question for differences of opinion in matters of religion which did not disturb the peace of the kingdom, and promised moreover the royal assent to such acts of parliament as should be offered for the full granting of that indulgence: 3. it alluded to the actions at law to which the actual possessors of estates purchased by them or granted to them during the revolution might be liable, and purposed to leave the settlement of all such differences to the wisdom of parliament, which could best provide for the just satisfaction of the parties concerned: lastly, it promised to liquidate the arrears of the army under General Monk, and to retain the officers and men in the royal service upon the same pay and conditions which they actually enjoyed. This was the celebrated declaration from Breda, the royal charter on the faith of which Charles was permitted to ascend the throne of his fathers.[1]

Encouraged by the bursts of loyalty with which the king’s letters and declaration had been received, his agents made it their great object to procure his return to England before limitations could be put on the prerogative. From the Lords, so numerous were the Cavaliers in the upper house, no opposition could be feared; and the temper already displayed by the Commons was calculated to satisfy the wishes of the most ardent champions of royalty. The two houses voted, that by the ancient and fundamental laws of the realm the government was and ought to be by king, lords, and commons; they invited Charles to come and receive the crown to which he was born; and, to relieve his more urgent necessities, they sent him a present of fifty thousand pounds, with ten thousand pounds for his brother the duke of York, and five

[Footnote 1: Lords’ Journ. xi. 7, 10.]

thousand pounds for the duke of Gloucester. They ordered the arms and symbols of the commonwealth to be effaced, the name of the king to be introduced into the public worship, and his succession to be proclaimed as having commenced from the day of his father’s death.[1] Hale, the celebrated lawyer, ventured, with Prynne, to call[a] upon the House of Commons to pause in their enthusiasm, and attend to the interests of the nation. The first moved the appointment of a committee to inquire what propositions had been offered by the long parliament, and what concessions had been made by the last king in 1648; the latter urged the favourable opportunity of coming to a mutual and permanent understanding on all those claims which had been hitherto subjects of controversy between the two houses and the crown. But Monk rose, and strongly objected to an inquiry which might revive the fears and jealousies, the animosities and bloodshed, of the years that were past. Let the king return while all was peace and harmony. He would come alone; he could bring no army with him; he would be as much at their mercy in Westminster as in Breda. Limitations, if limitations were necessary, might be prepared in the interval, and offered to him after his arrival. At the conclusion of this speech, the house resounded with the acclamations of the Cavaliers; and the advocates of the inquiry, awed by the authority of the general and the clamour of their opponents, deemed it prudent to desist.[2]

Charles was as eager to accept, as the houses had been to vote, the address of invitation. From Breda he had gone to the Hague, where the States, anxious to atone for their former neglect, entertained him with

[Footnote 1: Journals of both houses.]

[Footnote 2: Burnet, i. 88. Ludlow, iii. 8, 9.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. May 7.]

unusual magnificence. The fleet, under Montague,[1] had anchored in the Bay of Scheveling; and Charles, as soon as the weather permitted, set sail[a] for Dover, where Monk, at the head of the nobility and gentry from the neighbouring counties, waited to receive the new sovereign. Every eye was fixed on their meeting;[b] and the cheerful, though dignified, condescension of the king, and the dutiful, respectful homage of the general, provoked the applause of the spectators. Charles embraced him as his benefactor, bade him walk by his side, and took him into the royal carriage. From Dover to the capital the king’s progress bore the appearance of a triumphal procession. The roads were covered with crowds of people anxious to testify their loyalty, while they gratified their curiosity. On Blackheath he was received[c] by the army in battle array, and greeted with acclamations as he passed through the ranks; in St. George’s Fields the lord mayor and aldermen invited him to partake of a splendid collation in a tent prepared for the purpose; from London Bridge to Whitehall the houses were hung with tapestry, and the streets lined by the trained bands, the regulars, and the officers who had served under Charles I. The king was preceded by troops of horsemen, to the amount of three thousand persons, in splendid dresses, attended by trumpeters and footmen; then came the lord mayor, carrying the naked sword, after him the lord-general and the duke of Buckingham, and lastly the king himself, riding between his two brothers. The cavalcade was closed by the general’s life-guard, five regiments

[Footnote 1: Montague had long been in correspondence with the king, and disapproved of the dissimulation of Monk, so far as to call him in private a “thick-sculled fool;” but thought it necessary to flatter him, as he could hinder the business.–Pepys, i. 69.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1660. May 23.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1660. May 25.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1660. May 29.]

of horse, and two troops of noblemen and gentlemen. At Whitehall Charles dismissed the lord mayor, and received in succession the two houses, whose speakers addressed him in strains of the most impassioned loyalty, and were answered by him with protestations of attachment to the interests and liberties of his subjects. It was late in the evening before the ceremonies of this important day were concluded; when Charles observed to some of his confidants “It must sorely have been my fault that I did not come before; for I have met with no one to-day who did not protest that he always wished for my restoration."[1]

That the re-establishment of royalty was a blessing to the country will hardly be denied. It presented the best, perhaps the only, means of restoring public tranquillity amidst the confusion and distrust, the animosities and hatreds, the parties and interests, which had been generated by the events of the civil war, and by a rapid succession of opposite and ephemeral governments. To Monk belongs the merit of having, by his foresight and caution, effected this desirable object without bloodshed or violence; but to his dispraise it must also be recorded, that he effected it without any previous stipulation on the part of the exiled monarch. Never had so fair an opportunity been offered of establishing a compact between the sovereign and the people, of determining, by mutual consent, the legal rights of the crown, and of securing from future encroachment the freedom of the people. That Charles would have consented to such conditions,

[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 702. Kennet’s Reg. 163. Clarendon’s Hist. iii. 772. Clarendon’s Life by Himself, Continuation, p. 7, 8. Evelyn’s Diary, ii. 148.]

we have sufficient evidence; but, when the measure was proposed, the lord-general declared himself its most determined opponent. It may have been, that his cautious mind figured to itself danger in delay; it is more probable that he sought to give additional value to his services in the eyes of the new sovereign. But, whatever were the motives of his conduct, the result was, that the king ascended the throne unfettered with conditions, and thence inferred that he was entitled to all the powers claimed by his father at the commencement of the civil war. In a few years the consequence became manifest. It was found that, by the negligence or perfidy of Monk, a door had been left open to the recurrence of dissension between the crown and the people; and that very circumstance which Charles had hailed as the consummation of his good fortune, served only to prepare the way for a second revolution, which ended in the permanent exclusion of his family from the government of these kingdoms.



NOTE A, p. 117.

Nothing more clearly shows the readiness of Charles to engage in intrigue, and the subtleties and falsehood to which he could occasionally descend, than the history of Glamorgan’s mission to Ireland. In this note I purpose to lay before the reader the substance of the several documents relating to the transaction.

On the 1st of April, 1644, the king gave to him, by the name of Edward Somerset, alias Plantagenet, Lord Herbert, Baron Beaufort, &c., a commission under the great seal, appointing him commander-in-chief of three armies of Englishmen, Irishmen, and foreigners; authorizing him to raise moneys on the securities of the royal wardships, customs, woods, &c.; furnishing him with patents of nobility from the title of marquis to that of baronet, to be filled up with names at his discretion; promising to give the Princess Elizabeth to his son Plantagenet in marriage with a dower of three hundred thousand pounds, a sum which did not much exceed what Herbert and his father had already spent in the king’s service, and in addition to confer on Herbert himself the title of duke of Somerset, with the George and blue ribbon.–From the Nuncio’s Memoirs in Birch’s Inquiry, p. 22.

This commission was granted in consequence of an understanding with the deputies from the confederate Catholics, who were then at Oxford, and its object is fully explained by Herbert himself in a letter to Clarendon, to be laid before Charles II., and dated June 11, 1660. “For his majesty’s better information, through your favour, and by the channel of your lordship’s understanding things rightly, give me leave to acquaint you with one chief key, wherewith to open the secret passages between his late majesty and myself, in order to his service; which was no other than a real exposing of myself to any expense or difficulty, rather than his just design should not take place; or, in taking effect, that his honour should suffer; an effect, you may justly say, relishing more of a passionate and blind affection to his majesty’s service, than of discretion and care of myself. This made me take a resolution that he should have seemed angry with me at my return out of Ireland, until I had brought him into a posture and power to own his commands, to make good his instructions, and to reward my faithfulness and zeal therein.

“Your lordship may well wonder, and the king too, at the amplitude of my commission. But when you have understood the height of his majesty’s design, you will soon be satisfied that nothing less could have made me capable to effect it; being that one army of ten thousand men was to have come out of Ireland through North Wales; another of a like number, at least, under my command in chief, have expected my return in South Wales, which Sir Henry Gage was to have commanded as lieutenant-general; and a third should have consisted of a matter of six thousand men, two thousand of which were to have been Liegois, commanded by Sir Francis Edmonds, two thousand Lorrainers, to have been commanded by Colonel Browne, and two thousand of such French, English, Scots, and Irish, as could be drawn out of Flanders and Holland. And the six thousand were to have been, by the prince of Orange’s assistance, in the associated counties; and the governor of Lyne, cousin german to Major Bacon, major of my own regiment, was to have delivered the town unto them.

“The maintenance of this army of foreigners was to have come from the pope, and such Catholick princes as he, should have drawn into it, having engaged to afford and procure thirty thousand pounds a month; out of which the foreign army was first to be provided for, and the remainder to be divided among the other armies. And for this purpose had I power to treat with the pope and Catholick princes with particular advantages promised to Catholicks for the quiet enjoying their religion, without the penalties which the statutes in force had power to inflict upon them. And my instructions for this purpose, and my powers to treat and conclude thereupon, were signed by the king under his pocket signet, with blanks for me to put in the names of pope or princes, to the end the king might have a starting-hole to deny the having given me such commissions, if excepted against by his own subjects; leaving me as it were at stake, who for his majesty’s sake was willing to undergo it, trusting to his word alone."–Clarendon Papers, ii. 201, 202.

But his departure was delayed by Ormond’s objections to the conditions of peace; and the king, to relieve himself from the difficulty, proposed to Herbert to proceed to Ireland, and grant privately to the Catholics those concessions which the lord-lieutenant hesitated to make, on condition of receiving in return an army of ten thousand men for the royal service. In consequence, on the 27th of December, Charles announced to Ormond that Herbert was going to Ireland under an engagement to further the peace.–Carte, ii. App. p. 5.

1645, January 2nd. Glamorgan (he was now honoured with the title of earl of Glamorgan) received these instructions. “First you may ingage y’r estate, interest and creditt that we will most really and punctually performe any our promises to the Irish, and as it is necessary to conclude a peace suddainely, soe whatsoever shall be consented unto by our lieutenant the marquis of Ormond. We will dye a thousand deaths rather than disannull or break it; and if vpon necessity any thing to be condescended unto, and yet the lord marquis not willing to be seene therein, as not fitt for us at the present publickely to owne, doe you endeavour to supply the same."–Century of Inventions by Mr. Partington, original letters and official papers, xxxv. Then follows a promise to perform any promise made by him to Ormond or others, &c.

January 6. He received a commission to levy any number of men in Ireland and other parts beyond the sea, with power to appoint officers, receive the king’s rents, &c.–Birch, p. 18, from the Nuncio’s Memoirs, fol. 713.

January 12. He received another warrant of a most extraordinary description, which I shall transcribe from a MS. copy in my possession, attested with the earl’s signature, and probably the very same which he gave to Ormond after his arrest and imprisonment.

“Charles Rex

“Charles by the grace of God king of England Scotland France and Ireland Defender of the Fayth, &c. To our Right trusty and Right well beloved Cossin Edward Earle of Glamorgan greetinge. Whereas wee haue had sufficient and ample testimony of y’r approued wisdome and fideliti. Soe great is the confidence we repose in yo’w as that whatsoeuer yo’w shall perform as warranted only under our signe manuall pockett signett or private marke or even by woorde of mouthe w’thout further cerimonii, wee doo in the worde of a kinge and a cristian promis to make good to all intents and purposes as effectually as if your authoriti from us had binne under our great seale of England w’th this advantage that wee shall esteem our self farr the moore obliged to yo’w for y’r gallantry in not standing upon such nice tearms to doe us service w’h we shall God willing rewarde. And althoughe yo’w exceed what law can warrant or any power of ours reach unto, as not knowinge what yo’w may have need of, yet it being for our service, wee oblige ourself not only to give yo’w our pardon, but to mantayne the same w’th all our might and power, and though, either by accident yo’w loose or by any other occasion yo’w shall deem necessary to deposit any of our warrants and so wante them at yo’r returne, wee faythfully promise to make them good at your returne, and to supply any thinge wheerin they shall be founde defective, it not being convenient for us at this time to dispute upon them, for of what wee haue heer sett downe yo’w may rest confident, if theer be fayth or truth in man; proceed theerfor cheerfully, spedelj, and bouldly, and for your so doinge this shal be yo’r sufficient warrant. Given at our Court at Oxford under our signe manuall and privat signet this 12 of January 1644.


  “To our Right trustj and Right well beloved cosin
  Edward Earle of Glamorgan."
  Indorsed, “The Earle of Glamorgan’s further authoritj.”

Feb. 12. Glamorgan had left Oxford, and was raising money in Wales, when Charles sent him other despatches, and with them a letter desiring him to hasten to Ireland. In it he acknowledges the danger of the undertaking, that Glamorgan had already spent above a million of crowns in his service, and that he was bound in gratitude to take care of him next to his own wife and children. “What I can further thinke at this point is to send y’w the blue ribben, and a warrant for the title of duke of Somerset, both w’ch accept and make vse of at your discretion, and if you should deferre y’e publishing of either for a whyle to avoyde envye, and my being importuned by others, yet I promise yo’r antiquitie for y’e one and your pattent for the other shall bear date with the warrants."–Century of Inventions, p. xxxiv. On the 18th of August, 1660, the marquess of Hertford complained that this patent was injurious to him, as he claimed the tide of Somerset. Glamorgan, then marquess of Worcester, readily surrendered it on the 3rd of September, and his son was created duke of Beaufort.

On March 12, the king wrote to him the following letter:–


“I wonder you are not yet gone for Ireland; but since you have stayed all this time, I hope these will ouertake you, whereby you will the more see the great trust and confidence I repose in your integrity, of which I have had soe long and so good experience; commanding yow to deale with all ingenuity and freedome with our lieutenant of Ireland the marquess of Ormond, and on the word of a king and a Christian I will make good any thing which our lieutenant shall be induced unto upon your persuasion; and if you find it fitting, you may privately shew him these, which I intend not as obligatory to him, but to myselfe, and for both your encouragements and warrantise, in whom I repose my cheefest hopes, not having in all my kingdomes two such subjects; whose endeauours joining, I am confident to be soone drawen out of the mire I am now enforced to wallow in."–Century of Inventions, xxxviii.

What were the writings meant by the word ’these” which Glamorgan might show to Ormond if he thought fitting? Probably the following warranty dated at Oxford on the same day.

“Charles R.

“Charles by the Grace of God King of England Scotland France and Ireland Defender of the Fayth &c. To our right trusty and right welbeloved Cosin Edward earle of Glamorgan Greeting. We reposing great and espitiall trust, and confidence in y’r approved wisdome, and fidelity doe by these (as firmely as under our great seale to all intents and purposes) Authorise and give you power to treate and conclude w’th the Confederat Romaine Catholikes in our Kingdom of Ireland, if vpon necessity any thing be to be condescended vnto wherein our Lieutenant can not so well be seene in as not fitt for vs at the present publikely to owne, and therefore we charge you to proceede according to this our warrant w’th all possible secresie, and for whatsoever you shall engage your selfe, vpon such valuable considerations as you in y’r iudgement shall deeme fitt, we promise in the word of a King and a Christian to ratifie and performe the same, that shall be graunted by you, and vnder your hand and seale, the sayd confederat Catholikes having by theyr supplyes testified theyre zeale to our service, and this shall be in eache particular to you a sufficient warrant. Given at our Court at Oxford, under our signett and Royall signature the twelfe day of Marche in the twentieth year of our Raigne 1644.

To our Right Trusty and right welbeloved Cosin,

Edward Earle of Glamorgan.”

Some writers have attempted to dispute the authenticity of this warrant, because though it was inserted verbatim in Glamorgan’s treaty with the confederates, he did not produce it at the requisition of the council at Dublin, under the excuse that he had deposited it with the Catholics at Kilkenny. But that this was the truth, appears from the Nuncio’s Memoirs: "a sua majestate mandatum habuit, cujus originate regiâ manu subscriptum Glamorganae comes deposuit apud confoederatos Catholicos,” (fol. 1292, apud Birch, 215); and if better authority be required, I have in my possession the original warrant itself, with the king’s signature and private seal, bearing the arms of the three kingdoms, a crown above, and C.R. on the sides, and indorsed in the same handwriting with the body of the warrant, "The Earle of Glamorgan’s espetiall warrant for Ireland.” Of this original the above is a correct copy.

April 30. The king having heard that Rinuccini had been appointed nuncio, and was on his way to Ireland, sent to Glamorgan a letter for that prelate and another for the pope. The contents of the second are unknown; the first is copied in the Nuncio’s Memoirs, “Nous ne doubtons point, que les choses n’yront bien, et que les bonnes intentions commencés par effect du dernier pape ne s’accomplisseront par celuys icy, et par vos moyens, en notre royaume d’Irelande et de Angleterre."–Birch 28. He then requests the nuncio to join with Glamorgan, and promises to accomplish on the return of the latter, whatever they shall have resolved together.–Ibid.

The king, on his return to Oxford, after the disastrous campaign of 1645, still placed his principal reliance on the mission of Glamorgan; and, to induce the court of Rome to listen to the proposals of that envoy, wrote, with his own hand, the two following letters, of which the originals still exist in the Archivio Vaticano, one to the pope himself, the other to Cardinal Spada, requesting of both to give credit to Glamorgan or his messenger, and engaging the royal word to fulfil whatever should be agreed upon by Glamorgan, in the name of his sovereign:–

“Beatissime Pater,

“Tot tantaque testimonia fidelitatis et affectus consanguinei nostri comitis Glamorganiae jamdudum accepimus, eamque in illo fiduciam merito reponimus, ut Sanctitas Vestra ei fidem merito praebere possit in quacumque re, de qua per se vel per alium nostro nomine cum Sanctitate Vestra tractaturus sit. Quaecumque vero ab ipso certo statuta fuerint, ea munire et confirmare pollicemur. In cujus testimonium brevissimas has scripsimus, manu et sigillo nostro munitas, qui nihil (potius) habemus in votis, quam ut fevore vestro in eum statum redigamur, quo palam profiteamur nos.

“Sanctitatis Vestrae

“Humilimum et obedientissimum servum,

  “Apud Curiam nostram,             CHARLES R.
  Oxoniae, Oct. 20, 1645.”


“Beatissimo Patri Innocentio decimo Pontifici Maximo.”

“Eminentissime Domine, Pauca scripsimus Beatissimo Patri, de fide adhibenda consanguineo nostro comiti Glamorganiae, et cuilibet ab eo delegato, quem ut Eminentia vestra pariter omni favore prosequatur, rogamus; certoque credat nos ratum habituros quicquid a praedicte comite, vel suo delegato, cum Sanctissimo Patre vel Eminentia vestra transactum fuerit.

“Eminentiae Vestrae,

  “Apud Curiam nostram,        Fidelisimus Amicus,
  Oxoniae, Oct. 20, 1645.”               CHARLES R.


“Eminentissimo Domino et Consanguineo nostro, Dño Cardinali Spada.”

After the discovery of the whole proceeding, the king, on January 29th, 1646, sent a message to the two houses in England, in which he declares (with what truth the reader may judge) that Glamorgan had a commission to raise men, and “to that purpose only;” that he had no commission to treat of any thing else without the privity and directions of Ormond; that he had never sent any information of his having made any treaty with the Catholics, and that he (the king) disavowed him in his proceedings, and had ordered the Irish council to proceed against him by due course of law.–Charles’s Works, 555.

Two days later, January 31, having acknowledged to the council at Dublin that he had informed Glamorgan of the secret instructions given to Ormond, and desired him to use his influence with the Catholics to persuade them to moderate their demands, he proceeds: “To this end (and with the strictest limitations that we could enjoin him, merely to those particulars concerning which we had given you secret instructions, as also even in that to do nothing but by your especial directions) it is possible we might have thought fit to have given unto the said earl of Glamorgan such a credential as might give him credit with the Roman Catholics, in case you should find occasion to make use of him, either as a farther assurance unto them of what you should privately promise, or in case you should judge it necessary to manage those matters for their greater confidence apart by him, of whom, in regard of his religion and interest, they might be less jealous. This is all, and the very bottom of what we might have possibly entrusted unto the said earl of Glamorgan in this affair."–Carte’s Ormond, iii. 446. How this declaration is to be reconciled with the last, I know not.

With this letter to the council he sent two others. One was addressed to Ormond, asserting on the word of a Christian that he never intended Glamorgan to treat of any thing without Ormond’s knowledge and approbation, as he was always diffident of the earl’s judgment, but at the same time commanding him to suspend the execution of any sentence which might be pronounced against that nobleman.–Carte, ii. App. p. 12. The second, dated Feb. 3, was to Glamorgan himself, in these words:–


I must clearly tell you, both you and I have been abused in this business; for you have been drawn to consent to conditions much beyond your instructions, and your treaty had been divulged to all the world. If you had advised with my lord lieutenant, as you promised me, all this had been helped. But we must look forward. Wherefore, in a word, I have commanded as much favour to be shewn to you as may possibly stand with my service or safety; and if you will yet trust my advice–which I have commanded Digby to give you freely–I will bring you so off that you may still be useful to me, and I shall be able to recompence you for your affection; if not, I cannot tell what to say. But I will not doubt your compliance in this, since it so highly concerns the good of all my crowns, my own particular, and to make me have still means to shew myself

Your most assured Friend,

CHARLES R. Oxford, Feb. 3, 1645-6.” Warner, 360.

In this letter Charles, in his own defence, pretends to blame Glamorgan; probably as a blind to Ormond and Digby, through whom it was sent. Soon afterwards, on February 28th, he despatched Sir J. Winter to him with full instructions, and the following consolatory epistle:–


I am confident that this honest trusty bearer will give you good satisfaction why I have not in euerie thing done as you desired, the wante of confidence in you being so farre from being y’e cause thereof, that I am euery day more and more confirmed in the trust that I have of you, for beleeve me, it is not in the power of any to make you suffer in my opinion by ill offices; but of this and diuers other things I have given so full instructions that I will saye no more, but that I am

Yor most assured constant Friend,

Charles R.”

Century of Inventions, xxxix.

April 5th he wrote to him again.


I have no time, nor do you expect that I shall make unnecessary repetitions to you. Wherefore, referring you to Digby for business, this is only to give you assurance of my constant friendship to you: which, considering the general defection of common honesty, is in a sort requisite. Howbeit, I know you cannot but be confident of my making good all instructions and promises to you and the nuncio.

Your most assured constant Friend,

Charles R.”

Warner, 373.

On the following day the king sent him another short letter.


As I doubt not but you have too much courage to be dismayed or discouraged at the usage you have had, so I assure you that my estimation of you is nothing diminished by it, but rather begets in me a desire of revenge and reparation to us both; for in this I hold myself equally interested with you. Wherefore, not doubting of your accustomed care and industry in my service, I assure you of the continuance of my favour and protection to you, and that in deeds more than words, I shall shew myself to be

Your most assured constant Friend,

Charles R.”

Warner, 374.

If after the perusal of these documents any doubt can remain of the authenticity of Glamorgan’s commission, it must be done away by the following passage from Clarendon’s correspondence with secretary Nicholas. Speaking of his intended history, he says, “I must tell you, I care not how little I say in that business of Ireland, since those strange powers and instructions given to your favourite Glamorgan, which appears to me so inexcusable to justice, piety, and prudence. And I fear there is very much in that transaction of Ireland, both before and since, that you and I were never thought wise enough to be advised with in. Oh, Mr. Secretary, those stratagems have given me more sad hours than all the misfortunes in war which have befallen the king, and look like the effects of God’s anger towards us."–Clarendon Papers, ii. 337.

It appears that the king, even after he had been delivered by the Scots to the parliament, still hoped to derive benefit from the exertions of Glamorgan. About the beginning of June, 1647, Sir John Somerset, the brother of that nobleman, arrived in Rome with a letter from Charles to Innocent X. The letter is not probably in existence; but the answer of the pontiff shows that the king had solicited pecuniary assistance, and, as an inducement, had held out some hint of a disposition on his part to admit the papal supremacy and the Catholic creed. Less than this cannot be inferred from the language of Innocent. Literae illae praecipuam tuam alacritatem ac propensionem ad obediendum Deo in nobis, qui ejus vices gerimus, luculenter declarant ... a majestate tua enixe poscimus, ut quod velle coepit, mox et facto perficiat ... ut aliquo id aggrediaris argumento, quo te te ad Catholicam fidem recepisse intelligamus. Undoubtedly Charles was making the same experiment with the pontiff which he had just made with his Presbyterian subjects; and as, to propitiate them, he had undertaken to study the Presbyterian doctrines, so he hoped to draw money from Innocent by professing an inclination in favour of the Catholic creed. But the attempt failed. The answer was, indeed, complimentary: it expressed the joy of the pontiff at the perusal of his letter, and exhorted him to persevere in the inquiry till he should come to the discovery of the truth; but it disposed of his request, as Urban had previously disposed of a similar request, by stating that it was inconsistent with the duty of the pope to spend the treasures of his church in the support of any but Catholic princes. This answer is dated 29th June, 1647.

NOTE B, p. 136.

1. The ordinances had distinguished two classes of delinquents, the one religious, the other political. The first comprised all Catholic recusants, all persons whomsoever, who, having attained the age of twenty-one, should refuse to abjure upon oath the doctrines peculiar to the Catholic creed. These were reputed papists, and had been made to forfeit two-thirds of their real and personal estates, which were seized for the benefit of the kingdom by the commissioners of sequestration appointed in each particular county. The second comprehended all persons who were known to have fought against the parliament, or to have aided the royal party with money, men, provisions, advice, or information; and of these the whole estates, both real and personal, had been sequestrated, with the sole exception of one-fifth allotted for the support of their wives and children, if the latter were educated in the Protestant religion.–Elsynge’s Ordinances. 3, 22, et seq.

2. These sequestrated estates not only furnished a yearly income, but also a ready supply on every sudden emergency. Thus when Colonel Harvey refused to march till his regiment had received the arrears of its pay, amounting to three thousand pounds, an ordinance was immediately passed to raise the money by the sale of woods belonging to Lord Petre, in the county of Essex.–Journals, vi, 519. When a complaint was made of a scarcity of timber for the repairs of the navy, the two houses authorized certain shipwrights to fell two thousand five hundred oak trees on the estates of delinquents in Kent and Essex.–Ibid, 520. When the Scots demanded a month’s pay for their army, the committee at Goldsmiths’ Hall procured the money by offering for sale such property of delinquents as they judged expedient, the lands at eight, the houses at six years’ purchase.–Journals of Commons, June 10, 24, 1644.

3. But the difficulty of procuring ready money by sales induced the commissioners to look out for some other expedient; and when the sum of fifteen thousand pounds was wanted to put the army of Fairfax in motion, it was raised without delay by offering to delinquents the restoration of their sequestrated estates, on the immediate payment of a certain fine.–Commons’ Journals, Sept. 13, 1644. The success of this experiment encouraged them to hold out a similar indulgence to such persons as were willing to quit the royal party, provided they were not Catholics, and would take the oath of abjuration of the Catholic doctrine.–Ibid. March 6, August 12, 1645; May 4, June 26, Sept. 3, 1646. Afterwards, on the termination of the war, the great majority of the royalists were admitted to make their compositions with the committee. Of the fines required, the greater number amounted to one-tenth, many to one-sixth, and a few to one-third of the whole property, both real and personal, of the delinquents.–(See the Journals of both houses for the years 1647, 1648.)

NOTE C, p. 241.

On the day after the king’s execution appeared a work, entitled [Greek: EIKON BASILIKAe], or the Portraicture of his Sacred Majesty in “his Solitude and Sufferings.” It professed to be written by Charles himself; a faithful exposition of his own thoughts on the principal events of his reign, accompanied with such pious effusions as the recollection suggested to his mind. It was calculated to create a deep sensation in favour of the royal sufferer, and is said to have passed through fifty editions in the course of the first year. During the commonwealth, Milton made a feeble attempt to disprove the king’s claim to the composition of the book: after the restoration, Dr. Gauden, a clergyman of Bocking, in Essex, came forward and declared himself the real author. But he advanced his pretensions with secrecy, and received as the price of his silence, first the bishopric of Exeter, and afterwards, when he complained of the poverty of that see, the richer bishopric of Worcester.

After the death of Gauden his pretensions began to transpire, and became the subject of an interesting controversy between his friends and the admirers of Charles. But many documents have been published since, which were then unknown, particularly the letters of

Gauden to the earl of Clarendon (Clarendon Papers, iii. App. xxvi.-xxxi., xcv.), and others from him to the earl of Bristol (Maty’s Review, ii. 253. Clarendon Papers, iii. App. xcvi.; and Mr. Todd, Memoirs of Bishop Walton, i. 138). These have so firmly established Gauden’s claim, that, whoever denies it must be prepared to pronounce that prelate an impostor, to believe that the bishops Morley and Duppa gave false evidence in his favour, and, to explain how it happened, that those, the most interested to maintain the right of the king, namely Charles II., his brother the duke of York, and the two earls of Clarendon and Bristol, yielded to the deception. These difficulties, however, have not appalled Dr. Wordsworth, who in a recent publication of more than four hundred pages, entitled, “Who wrote[Greek: EIKON BASILIKAe]” has collected with patient industry every particle of evidence which can bear upon the subject; and after a most minute and laborious investigation, has concluded by adjudging the work to the king, and pronouncing the bishop an impudent impostor. Still my incredulity is not subdued. There is much in the[Greek: EIKON BASILIKAe] itself which forbids me to believe that Charles was the real author, though the latter, whoever he were, may have occasionally consulted and copied the royal papers; and the claim of Gauden appears too firmly established to be shaken by the imperfect and conjectural improbabilities which have hitherto been produced against it.

NOTE D, p. 276.

The Massacres at Drogheda and Wexford.

I. Drogheda was taken by storm on the 11th of September, 1649. Cromwell, on his return to Dublin, despatched two official accounts of his success, one to Bradshaw, president of the council of state; a second to Lenthall, the speaker of parliament. They were dated on the 16th and 17th of September; which probably ought to have been the 17th and 18th, for he repeatedly makes such mistakes in numbering the days of that month. These two documents on several accounts deserve the attention of the reader.

I. Both mention a massacre, but with this difference, that whereas the earlier seems to confine it to the men in arms against the commonwealth, the second towards the end notices, incidentally as it were, the additional slaughter of a thousand of the townspeople in the church of St. Peter. In the first, Cromwell, as if he doubted how the shedding of so much blood would be taken, appears to shift the origin of the massacre from himself to the soldiery, who considered the refusal of quarter as a matter of course, after the summons which had been sent into the town on the preceding day; but in the next despatch he assumes a bolder tone, and takes upon himself all the blame or merit of the proceeding. “Our men were ordered by meto put them all to the sword."–"I forbade them to spare any that were in arms.” In the first, to reconcile the council to the slaughter, he pronounces it a “marvellous great mercy;” for the enemy had lost by it their best officers and prime soldiers: in the next he openly betrays his own misgivings, acknowledging that “such actions cannot but work remorse and regret without sufficient grounds,” and alleging as sufficient grounds in the present case–1. that it was a righteous judgment of God on barbarous wretches who had imbued their hands in so much innocent blood; and 2. that it would tend to prevent the effusion of blood for the future.

2. Now the insinuation conveyed in the first of these reasons, that the major part of the garrison had been engaged in the outbreak of the rebellion and its accompanying horrors, was in all probability a falsehood; for the major part of the garrison was not composed of native soldiers, but of Englishmen serving under the marquess of Ormond, the king’s lord lieutenant. This is plain from the evidence of persons who cannot be supposed ignorant of the fact; the evidence of the royalist Clarendon (History, vol. iii. part i. p. 323), and of the republican Ludlow, who soon afterwards was made general of the horse, and became Cromwell’s deputy in the government of the island (Ludlow, Memoirs, i. 301). But, however groundless the insinuation might be, it served Cromwell’s purpose; it would array in his favour the fanaticism of the more godly of his party.

For the massacre of the townspeople in the church he offers a similar apology, equally calculated to interest the feelings of the saints. “They had had the insolence on the last Lord’s day to thrust out the Protestants, and to have the mass said there.” Now this remark plainly includes a paralogism. The persons who had ordered the mass to be said there on the 9th of September were undoubtedly the civil or military authorities in the town. Theirs was the guilt, if guilt it were, and theirs should have been the punishment. Yet his argument supposes that the unarmed individuals whose blood was shed there on the 12th, were the very persons who had set up the mass on the 9th.

3. We know not how far this second massacre was originated or encouraged by Cromwell. It is well known that in the sack of towns it is not always in the power of the commander to restrain the fury of the assailants, who abuse the license of victory to gratify the most brutal of their passions. But here we have no reason to suppose that Cromwell made any effort to save the lives of the unarmed and the innocent. Both the commander and his men had a common religious duty to perform. They were come, in his own language, “to ask an account of the innocent blood which had been shed,"–to “do execution on the enemies of God’s cause.” Hence, in the case of a resisting city, they included the old man, the female, and the child in the same category with the armed combatant, and consigned all to the same fate.

4. Of the proceedings of the victors during that night we are ignorant; but it does not suggest a very favourable notion of their forbearance, that in the following morning the great church of St. Peter’s was filled with crowds of townspeople of both sexes, and of every age and condition. The majority of the women and children sought protection within the body of the church; a select party of females, belonging to the first families in the town, procured access to the crypts under the choir, which seemed to offer more favourable chances of concealment and safety. But the sacred edifice afforded no asylum to either. The carnage began within the church at an early hour; and, when it was completed, the bloodhounds tracked their prey into the vaults beneath the pavement. Among the men who thus descended into these subterranean recesses, was Thomas Wood, at that time a subaltern, afterwards a captain in Ingoldsby’s regiment. He found there, according to his own narrative, “the flower and choicest of the women and ladies belonging to the town, amongst whom a most handsome virgin, arrayed in costly and gorgeous apparel, kneeled down to him with tears and prayers to save her life; and being strucken with a profound pitie, he took her under his arme, and went with her out of the church with intentions to put her over the works to shift for herself; but a soldier perceiving his intention, he ran his sword up her belly or fundament. Whereupon Mr. Wood, seeing her gasping, took away her money, jewels, &c., and flung her down over the works.” (See the Life of Anthony a Wood, p. xx., in the edition by Bliss, of 1813. Thomas was the brother of Anthony, the Oxford historian.) "He told them also that 3,000 at least, besides some women and children, were, after the assailants had taken part, and afterwards all the towne, put to the sword on the 11th and 12th of September, 1649. He told them that when they were to make their way up to the lofts and galleries of the church, and up to the tower, where the enemy had fled, each of the assailants would take up a child, and use as a buckler of defence, when they ascended the steps, to keep themselves from being shot or brained."–Wood, ibid. These anecdotes, from the mouth of one who was an eyewitness of, probably a participator in, the horrors of that day, will enable the reader to form an adequate notion of the thirst for blood which stimulated the soldiery, and of the cruelties which they exercised on their defenceless victims.

5. The terms of indignation, and abhorrence in which the sack of Drogheda was described by the royalists of that period are well known. I shall add here another testimony; not that it affords more important information, but because I am not aware that it has ever met the eye of more recent historians; the testimony of Bruodin, an Irish friar, of great eminence and authority in the Franciscan order. “Quinque diebus continuis haec laniena (qua, nullo habito locorum, sexus, religionis aut aetatis discrimine, juvenes et virgines lactantes aeque ac senio confecti barbarorum gladiis ubique trucidati sunt) duravit. Quatuor milia Catholicorum virorum (ut de infinita multitudine religiosorum, foeminarum, puerorum, puellarum et infantium nihil dicam) in civitate gladius impiorum rebellium illa expugnatione devoravit."–Propugnaculum Cathol. Veritatis, lib. iv. c. 14, p. 678.

6. Here another question occurs. How did Cromwell obtain possession of Drogheda? for there appears in his despatches a studied evasion of the particulars necessary to give a clear view of the transaction. The narrative is so confused that it provokes a suspicion of cunning and concealment on the part of the writer. The royalists affirmed that the place was won through promises of quarter which were afterwards perfidiously violated, and their assertion is supported by the testimony of Ormond in an official letter written from the neighbourhood to Lord Byron. "Cromwell,” he says, “having been twice beaten from the breach, carried it the third time, all his officers and soldiers promising quarter to such as would lay down their arms, and performing it as long as any place held out, which encouraged others to yield; but when they had all once in their power, and feared no hurt that could be done them, then the word no quarter went round, and the soldiers were, many of them, forced against their wills to kill their prisoners. The governor and all his officers were killed in cold blood, except some few of least consideration that escaped by miracle."–Sept. 29, Carte’s Letters, ii. 412. It is possible, though not very probable, that Ormond suffered himself to be misled by false information. It should, however, be observed, that there is nothing in his account positively contradicted by Cromwell’s despatch. Cromwell had, not forbidden the granting of quarter before the storm. It was afterwards, “in the heat of the action,” that he issued this order. But at what part of the action? On what account? What had happened to provoke him to issue it? He tells us that within the breach the garrison had thrown up three entrenchments; two of which were soon carried, but the third, that on the Mill-Mount, was exceedingly strong, having a good graft, and strongly palisaded. For additional particulars we must have recourse to other authority, from which we learn that within this work was posted a body of picked soldiers with every thing requisite for a vigorous defence, so that it could not have been taken by force without the loss of some hundreds of men on the part of the assailants. It so happened, however, that the latter entered it without opposition, and “Colonel Axtell, with some twelve of his men, went up to the top of the mount, and demanded of the governor the surrender of it, who was very stubborn, speaking very big words, but at length was persuaded to go into the windmill at the top of the mount, and as many more of the chiefest of them as it could contain, where they were disarmed, and afterwards all slain."–Perfect Diurnal from Oct. 1 to Oct. 8. Now Cromwell in his despatch says “The governor, Sir Arthur Ashton, and divers considerable officers, being there (on the Mill-Mount), our men, getting up to them, were ordered by me to put them all to the sword.” In my opinion this passage affords a strong corroboration of the charge made by Ormond. If the reader compare it with the passage already quoted from the Diurnal, he will find it difficult to suppress a suspicion that Axtell and his men had obtained a footing on the Mill-Mount through the offer of quarter; and that this was the reason why Cromwell, when he knew that they had obtained possession, issued an order forbidding the granting of quarter on any account. The consequence was, that the governor and his officers went into the mill, and were there disarmed, and afterwards all slain. The other prisoners were treated in the same manner as their officers.

7. Ormond adds, in the same letter, that the sack of the town lasted during five days, meaning, probably, from September 11 to September 15, or 16, inclusively. The same is asserted by most of the royalists. But how could that be, when the storm began on the 11th, and the army marched from Drogheda on the 15th? The question may perhaps be solved by a circumstance accidentally mentioned by Dr. Bates, that on the departure of the army, several individuals who had hitherto succeeded in concealing themselves, crept out of their hiding-places, but did not elude the vigilance of the garrison, by whom they were put to the sword.–Bates’s Rise and Progress, part ii. p. 27.

II. 1. It did not require many days to transmit intelligence from Dublin to the government; for the admiralty had contracted with a Captain Rich, that for the monthly sum of twenty-two pounds he should constantly have two swift-sailing vessels, stationed, one at Holyhead, the other at Dublin, ready to put to sea on the arrival of despatches for the service of the state.–Lords’ Journ. ix. 617. From an accidental entry in Whitelock, it would appear that the letters from Cromwell reached London on the 27th of September; on the 28th, parliament, without any cause assigned in the Journals, was adjourned to October 2nd, and on that day the official account of the massacre at Drogheda was made public. At the same time an order was obtained from the parliament, that “a letter should be written to the lord lieutenant of Ireland, to be communicated to the officers there, that the house doth approve of the execution done at Drogheda both as an act of justice to them and mercy to others, who may be warned by it" (Journals, vi. 301), which are the very reasons alleged by Cromwell in his despatch. His conduct was now sanctioned by the highest authority; and from that moment the saints in the army rejoiced to indulge the yearnings of their zeal for the cause of God, by shedding the blood of the Irish enemy. Nor had they long to wait for the opportunity. On the 1st of October he arrived in the neighbourhood of Wexford; on the 9th he opened a cannonade on the castle, which completely commanded the town. On the 11th, Synnot, the military governor, offered to capitulate; four commissioners, one of whom was Stafford, the captain of the castle, waited on Cromwell to arrange the terms. He was dissatisfied with their demands, pronounced them "abominable,” and detained them till he had prepared his answer. By that answer he granted life and liberty to the soldiers; life, but not liberty, to the commissioned officers, and freedom from pillage to the inhabitants, subject, however, to the decision of parliament with respect to their real property. He required an immediate acceptance of these terms, and the delivery to him of six hostages within an hour.–(Compare the letter of October 16 in the King’s Pamphlets, No. 442, with the document published by Mr. Carlyle, ii. 79, which appears to me nothing more than a rough and incorrect draft of an intended answer.) But Stafford was a traitor. In the interval, being “fairly treated,” he accepted, without communication with the governor, the terms granted by Cromwell, and opened the gates of the fortress to the enemy. From the castle they scaled an undefended wall in the vicinity, and poured into the town. A paper containing the terms was now delivered to the other three commissioners; but “their commissioners this while not having hearts to put themselves into the town again with out offer."–Ibid. Letter of October 16. Thus Synnot and the other authorities remained in ignorance of Cromwell’s decision.

2. At the first alarm the garrison and burghers assembled in the market-place, to which they were accompanied or followed by crowds of old men, women, and children. For a while the progress of the enemy was retarded by barricades of cables. At the entrance of the market-place they met with a “stiff resistance,” as it is called by Cromwell. The action lasted about an hour; but the assailants receiving continual reinforcements, obtained at last fell possession of the place, and put to the sword every human being found upon it. The governor and the mayor perished with the rest.

3. But how could these bloody proceedings be reconciled with the terms of capitulation which had been already granted? If we may believe Cromwell’s official account, a matchless specimen of craft and mystification, he was not to blame that they had been broken. He was perfectly innocent of all that had happened. Could he not then have ordered his men to keep within the castle, or have recalled them when they forced an entrance into the town? Undoubtedly he might; but the pious man was unwilling to put himself in opposition to God. “His study had been to preserve the place from plunder, that it might be of more use to the commonwealth and the army." But he saw “that God would not have have it so.” The events which so quickly followed each other, were to him a proof that God in his righteous judgment had doomed the town and its defendants to destruction; on which account he “thought it not good, nor just, to restrain off the soldiers from their right of pillage, nor from doing of execution on the enemy."–Letter of 16th of October. He concludes his despatch to the government with these words:–"Thus it has pleased God to give into your hands this other mercy, for which, as for all, we pray God may have all the glory. Indeed, your instruments are poor and weak. and can do nothing but through believing, and that is the gift of God also."–Cary’s Memorials, ii. 180. Did then the fanatic believe that perfidy and cruelty were gifts of God? for at Wexford he could not plead, as at Drogheda, that his summons had been contemptuously rejected. It had been accepted, and he had himself dictated the terms of capitulation. Was he not obliged to carry them into execution, even if, as was pretended in defiance of all probability, his men had taken possession of the castle, and forced an entrance into the town without his knowledge or connivance? Would any honest man have released himself from such obligation under the flimsy pretext that it would be acting against the will of God to recall the soldiers and prevent them from doing execution on the enemy?

4. Cromwell’s ministers of the divine will performed their part at Wexford, as they had done at Drogheda, doing execution, not on the armed combatants only, but on the women and children also. Of these helpless victims many had congregated round the great cross. It was a natural consequence in such an emergency. Hitherto they had been accustomed to kneel at the foot of that cross in prayer, now, with life itself at stake, they would instinctively press towards it to escape from the swords of the enemy. But, as far an regards the atrocity of the thing, it makes little difference on what particular spot they were murdered. You cannot relieve the memory of Cromwell from the odium of such murder, but by proving, what it is impossible to prove, that at Wexford the women and children were specially excepted out of the general massacre.

5. I have already copied Bruodin’s description of the sack of Drogheda; here I may transcribe his account of the sack of Wexford. “Ipse strategus regicidarum terrestri itinere Dublinium praetergressus, Wexfordiam (modicam quidem, et maritimam, munitam et opulentam civitatem) versus castra movet, occupatoque insperate, proditione cujusdam perfidi ducis castro, quod moenibus imminebat, in civitatem irruit: opposuere se viriliter aggressori praesidiarii simul cum civibus, pugnatumque est ardentissime per unius horae spatium inter partes in foro, sed impari congressu, nam cives fere omnes una cum militibus, sine status, sexus, aut aetatis discrimine, Cromweli gladius absumpsit."–Bruodin, Propag. 1. iv. c. 14, p. 679. The following is a more valuable document, from the “humble petition of the ancient natives of the town of Wexford,” to Charles II., July 4, 1660. “Yet soe it is, may it please your Majestie, that after all the resistance they could make, the said usurper, having a great armie by sea and land before the said toune, did on the 9th of October, 1649, soe powerfully assault them, that he entered the toune, and put man, woman, and child, to a very few, to the sword, where among the rest the governor lost his life, and others of the soldiers and inhabitants to the number of 1,500 persons."–Gale’s Corporation System in Ireland, App. p. cxxvi.

6. My object in these remarks has been to enable the reader to form a correct notion of the manner in which Cromwell conducted the war in Ireland. They will give little satisfaction to the worshippers of the hero. But his character is not a mere matter of taste or sympathy. It is a question of historic inquiry. Much indeed has been written to vindicate him from the imputation of cruelty at Drogheda and Wexford; but of the arguments hitherto adduced in his defence, it will be no presumption to affirm that there is not one among them which can bear the test of dispassionate investigation.

NOTE E, p. 338.

The following pensions were afterwards granted to different persons instrumental in facilitating the king’s escape. Unless it be mentioned otherwise, the pension is for life:–

  To Jane Lane (Lady Fisher) . . . . . . . . . 1000
  Thomas Lane, the father . . . . . . . . .  500
  Charles Gifford, Esq. . . . . . . . . . .  300
  Francis Mansell, Esq. . . . . . . . . . .  200
  Thomas Whitgrave, Esq.  . . . . . . . . .  200
  Catharine Gunter, for 21 years  . . . . .  200
  Joan Harford  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   50
  Eleanor Sampson . . . . . . . . . . . . .   50
  Francis Reynolds  . . . . . . . . . . . .  200
  John and Anne Rogers, and heirs male  . .  100
  Anne Bird . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   30
  Sir Thomas Wyndham, and heirs, for ever .  600
  William Ellesdun, during pleasure . . . .  100
  Robert Swan, during the king’s life . . .   80
  Lady Anne Wyadham . . . . . . . . . . . .  400
  Juliana Hest  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   30

Clarendon Corres. i. 656.

NOTE F, p. 358.

The Act for the Settlement of Ireland.

Whereas the parliament of England after expense of much blood and treasure for suppression of the horrid rebellion in Ireland have by the good hand of God vpon their vndertakings brought that affaire to such an issue as that a totall reducm’t and settlement of that nation may with Gods blessing be speedily effected. To the end therefore that the people of that nation may knowe that it is not the intention of the Parliament to extirpat that wholl nation, but that mercie and pardon both as to life and estate may bee extended to all husbandmen, plowmen, labourers, artificers, and others of the inferior sort, in manner as is heereafter declared, they submitting themselves to the Parliament of the Commonwealth of England and liveing peaceably and obediently vnder their governement, and that others alsoe of a higher ranke and quality may knowe the Parliament’s intention concerning them according to the respective demerits and considerations under which they fall, Bee it enacted and declared by this present Parliament and by the authority of the same, That all and every person and persons of the Irish nation comprehended in any of the following Qualifications shal bee lyable vnto the penalties and forfeitures herein mentioned and contained or bee made capable of the mercy and pardon therein extended respectively according as is heereafter expressed and declared, that is to saye,

1. That all and every person and persons who at any time before the tenth day of November, 1642, being the time of the sitting of the first generall assembly at Kilkenny in Ireland have contrived, advised, counselled, or promoted the Rebellion, murthers, massacres, done or committed in Ireland w’ch began in the year 1641, or have at any time before the said tenth day of November 1642 by bearing armes or contributing men, armes, horses, plate, money, victuall or other furniture or habilliments of warre (other then such w’ch they shall make to appeare to haue been taken from them by meere force & violence) ayded, assisted, promoted, prosecuted or abetted the said rebellion murthers or massacres, be excepted from pardon of life and estate.

2. That all and every person & persons who at any time before the first day of May 1643, did sitt or vote, in the said first generall

assembly, or in the first pretended counsell comonly called the supreame councell of the confederate Catholiques in Ireland or were imployed as secretaries or cheife clearke, to be exempted from pardon for life and estate.

3. That all and every Jesuitt preist and other person or persons who have receaved orders from the Pope or Sea of Rome, or any authoritie from the same, that have any wayes contrived, advised, counselled, promoted, continued, countenanced, ayded, assisted or abetted, or at any time hereafter shall any wayes contriue, advise, councell, promote, continue, countenance, ayde, assist or abett the Rebellion or warre in Ireland, or any the murthers, or massacres, robberies, or violences, comitted against ye Protestants, English, or others there, be excepted from pardon for life and estate.

4. That James Butler earl of Ormond, James Talbot earl of Castelhaven, Ullick Bourke earl of Clanricarde, Christopher Plunket earl of Fingal, James Dillon earl of Roscommon, Richard Nugent earl of Westmeath, Moragh O’Brian baron of Inchiquin, Donogh M’Carthy viscount Muskerry, Richard Butler viscount Mountgarrett, Theobald Taaffe viscount Taaffe of Corren, Rock viscount Fermoy, Montgomery viscount Montgomery of Ards, Magennis viscount of Iveagh, Fleming baron of Slane, Dempsey viscount Glanmaleere, Birmingham baron of Athenry, Oliver Plunket baron of Lowth, Robert Barnwell baron of Trymletstoune, Myles Bourke viscount Mayo, Connor Magwyre baron of Enniskillen, Nicholas Preston viscount Gormanstowne, Nicholas Nettervill, viscount Nettervill of Lowth, John Bramhall late Bishop of Derry, (with eighty-one baronets, knights and gentlemen mentioned by name) be excepted from pardon of life and estate.

5. That all and every person & persons (both principalls and accessories) who since the first day of October 1641 have or shall kill, slay or otherwise destroy any person or persons in Ireland w’ch at ye time of their being soe killed, slaine or destroyed were not publiquely enterteined, and mainteyned in armes as officers or private souldiers for and on behalfe of the English against ye Irish, and all and every person and persons (both principals and accessories) who since the said first day of October 1641 have killed slayne or otherwise destroyed any person or persons entertained and mainteyned as officers or private souldiers for and on behalfe of the English, against the Irish (the said persons soe killing, slaying or otherwise destroying, not being then publiquely enterteyned and mainteyned in armes as officer or private souldier vnder the comand and pay of ye Irish against the English) be excepted from pardon for life and estate.

6. That all and every person & persons in Ireland that are in armes or otherwise in hostilitie against ye Parliam’t of ye Commonwealth of England, and shall not wthin eight and twenty dayes after publicacon hereof by ye deputy gen’ll of Ireland, and ye comission’rs for the Parliam’t, lay downs armes & submitt to ye power and authoritie of ye said Parliam’t & commonwealth as ye same is now established, be excepted from pardon for life and estate.

7. That all other person & persons (not being comprehended in any of ye former Qualifications,) who have borne comaund in the warre of Ireland against the Parliam’t of England or their forces, as generall, leift’ts generall, major gen’ll, commissary generall, colonell, Gouerno’rs of any garrison, Castle or Forte, or who have been imployed as receaver gen’ll or Treasurer of the whole Nation, or any prouince thereof, Comissarie gen’ll of musters, or prouissions, Marshall generall or marshall of any province, advocate to ye army, secretary to ye councell of warre, or to any generall of the army, or of any the seuerall prouinces, in order to the carrying on the warre, against the parliam’t or their forces, be banished dureing the pleasure of the parliam’t of ye Com’wealth of England, and their estates forfeited & disposed of as followeth, (viz.) That two third partes of their respective estates, be had taken & disposed of for the vse & benefitt of the said Com’wealth, and that ye other third parte of their said respective estates, or other lands to ye proporcon & value thereof (to bee assigned in such places in Ireland as the Parliam’t in order to ye more effectual settlem’ of ye peace of this Nation shall thinke fitt to appoint for that purpose,) be respectiuely had taken and enioyed by ye wifes and children of the said persons respectively.

8. That ye deputy gen’ll and comission’rs of parliam’t have power to declare, That such person or persons as they shall judge capeable of ye parliam’ts mercie (not being comprehended in any of ye former qualifications) who have borne armes against the Parliam’t of England or their forces, and have layd downe armes, or within eight & twenty dayes after publicacon hereof by ye deputy gen’ll of Ireland and ye Comissioners for ye parliam’t, shall lay downe armes & submit to ye power & authoritie of ye said parliam’t & com’wealth as ye same is now established, (by promising & ingaging to be true to ye same) shal be pardoned for their liues, but shall forfeit their estates, to the said comonwealth to be disposed of as followeth (viz.) Two third partes thereof (in three equall partes to bee diuided) for the vse benefitt & aduantage of ye said ComOnwealth, and ye other third parte of the said respective states, or other lands to ye proporcon or value thereof) to bee assigned in such places in Ireland as the parliam’t in order to ye more effectual settlement of the peace of the Nation shall thinke fitt to appoint for that purpose (bee enioyed by ye said persons their heires or assigns respectively) provided, That in case the deputy gen’ll Comission’rs or either of them, shall see cause to give any shorter time than twenty-eight dayes, vnto any person or persons in armes, or any Guarrison, Castle, or Forte, in hostilitie against the Parliam’t & shall giue notice to such person or persons in armes or in any Guarrison, Castle or Forte, That all and every such person & persons who shall not wthin such time as shal be sett downe in such notice surrender such Guarrison, Castle, or Forte to ye parliam’t, and lay downe armes, shall haue noe advantage of ye time formerly limited in this Qualificacon.

9. That all and every person & persons who have recided in Ireland at any time from the first day of October 1641, to ye first of March 1650, and haue not beene in actuall service of ye parliam’t at any time from ye first of August 1649, to the said first of March 1650, or have not otherwise manifested their constant good affections to the interest of ye Comonwealth of England (the said Persons not being comprehended in any of the former Qualificacons) shall forfeit their estates in Ireland to the said Comonwealth to be disposed of as followeth, (viz.), one third parte thereof for the vse, benefitt, and advantage of the said Comonwealth, and the other two third partes of their respective estates, or other lands to the proporcon or value thereof (to bee assigned in such places in Ireland, as ye Parliam’t for ye more effectual settlement of ye peace of the Nation shall thinke fitt to appoint for that purpose) bee enioyed by such person or persons their heires or assigns respectively.

10. That all and every person & persons (haueing noe reall estate in Ireland nor personall Estate to the value of ten pounds,) that shall lay downe armes, and submitt to the power and Authoritie of the Parliament by the time limited in the former Qualificacon, & shall take & subscribe the engagem’t to be true and faithfull to the Comonwealth of England as the same is now established, within such time and in such manner, as the deputy Generall & commission’rs for the Parliam’t shall appoint and direct, such persons (not being excepted from pardon nor adiuged for banishm’t by any of the former Qualificacons) shal be pardoned for life & estate, for any act or thing by them done in prosecution of the warre.

11. That all estates declared by the Qualificacons concerning rebells or delinquents in Ireland to be forfeited shal be construed, adiuged & taken to all intents and purposes to extend to ye forfeitures of all estates tayle, and also of all rights & titles thereunto which since the fiue and twentith of March 1639, have beene or shal be in such rebells or delinquents, or any other in trust for them or any of them, or their or any of their vses, w’th all reversions & remainders thereupon in any other person or persons whatsoever.

And also to the forfeiture of all estates limitted, appointed, conveyed, settled, or vested in any person or persons declared by the said Qualificacons to be rebells or delinquents with all reversions or remainders of such estates, conueyed, uested, limitted, declared or appointed to any the heires, children, issues, or others of the blood, name, or kindred of such rebells or delinquents, w’ch estate or estates remainders or reuersions since the 25th of March 1639 have beene or shal be in such rebells or delinquents, or in any their heires, children, issues or others of the blood, name, or kindred of such rebells or delinquents.

And to all estates graunted, limitted, appointed or conueyed by any such rebells or delinquents vnto any their heires, children, issue, w’th all the reversions and remainders thereupon, in any other person of the name, blood or kindred of such rebells or delinquents, provided that this shall not extend to make voyd the estates of any English Protestants, who haue constantly adhered to the parliam’t w’ch were by them purchased for valuable consideracon before ye 23rd of October 1641, or vpon like valuable consideracon mortgaged to them before ye tyme or to any person or persons in trust for them for satisfaction of debts owing to them.

NOTE G, p. 396.

I have not been able to ascertain the number of Catholic clergymen who were executed or banished for their religion under Charles I., and under the commonwealth. But I possess an original document, authenticated by the signatures of the parties concerned, which contains the names and fate of such Catholic priests as were apprehended and prosecuted in London between the end of 1640 and the summer of 1651 by four individuals, who had formed themselves into a kind of joint-stock company for that laudable purpose, and who solicited from the council some reward for their services. It should, however, be remembered that there were many others engaged in the same pursuit, and consequently many other victims besides those who are here enumerated.

“The names of such Jesuits and Romish priests as have been apprehended and prosecuted by Capt James Wadsworth, Francis Newton, Thomas Mayo, and Robert de Luke, messengers, at our proper charge; whereof some have been condemned; some executed, and some reprieved since the beginning of the parliament (3 Nov. 1640); the like having not been done by any others since the reformation of religion in this nation:–

William Waller, als. Slaughter, als. Walker, executed at Tyburne.

Cuthbert Clapton, condemned, reprieved and pardoned.

Bartholomew Row, executed at Tyburne.

Thomas Reynolds, executed at Tyburne.

Edward Morgan, executed at Tyburne.

Thomas Sanderson, als. Hammond, executed at Tyburne.

Henry Heath, alias Pall Magdelen, executed at Tyburne.

Francis Quashet, dyed in Newgate after judgment.

Arthur Bell, executed at Tyburne.

Ralph Corbey, executed at Tyburne.

John Duchet, executed at Tyburne.

John Hamond, als. Jackson, condemned, reprieved by the king, and died in Newgate.

Walter Coleman, condemned and died in Newgate,

Edmond Cannon, condemned and died in Newgate.

John Wigmore, als. Turner, condemned, reprieved by the king, and is in custodie in Newgate.

Andrew Ffryer, alias Herne, als. Richmond, condemned and died in Newgate.

Augustian Abbot, als. Rivers, condemned, reprieved by the king, and died in Newgate.

John Goodman, condemned and died in Newgate.

Peter Welford, condemned and died in Newgate.

Thomas Bullaker, executed at Tyburne.

Robert Robinson, indicted and proved, and made an escape out of the King’s Bench.

James Brown, condemned and died in Newgate.

Henry Morse, executed at Tyburne.

Thomas Worseley, alias Harvey, indicted and proved, and reprieved by the Spanish ambassador and others.

Charles Chanie (Cheney) als. Tomson, indicted and proved, and begged by the Spanish ambassador, and since taken by command of the councell of state, and is now in Newgate.

Andrew White, indicted, proved, reprieved before judgment, and banished.

Richard Copley, condemned and banished.

Richard Worthington, found guiltie and banished.

Edmond Cole, Peter Wright, and William Morgan, indicted, proved, and sent beyond sea.

Philip Morgan, executed at Tyburne.

Edmond Ensher, als. Arrow, indicted, condemned, reprieved by the parliament and banished.

Thomas Budd, als. Peto, als. Gray, condemned, reprieved by the lord mayor of London, and others, justices, and since retaken by order of the councell of state, and is now in Newgate.

George Baker, als. Macham, indicted, proved guiltie, and now in Newgate.

Peter Beale, als. Wright, executed at Tyburne.

George Sage, indicted by us, and found guiltie, and since is dead.

James Wadsworth.

Francis Newton.

Thomas Mayo.

Robert de Luke.”

This catalogue tells a fearful but instructive tale; inasmuch as it shows how wantonly men can sport with the lives of their fellow-men, if it suit the purpose of a great political party. The patriots, to enlist in their favour the religious prejudices of the people, represented the king as the patron of popery, because he sent the priests into banishment, instead of delivering them to the knife of the executioner. Hence, when they became lords of the ascendant, they were bound to make proof of their orthodoxy; and almost every execution mentioned above took place by their order in 1642, or 1643. After that time they began to listen to the voice of humanity, and adopted the very expedient which they had so clamorously condemned. They banished, instead of hanging and quartering.

NOTE H, p. 493.

Revenue of the Protector. When the parliament, in 1654, undertook to settle an annual sum on the protector, Oliver Cromwell, the following, according to the statement of the sub-committee, was the amount of the revenue in the three kingdoms:–

  Excise and customs in England . . . . . . . . . . . £80,000
  Excise and customs in Scotland  . . . . . . . . . .  10,000
  Excise and customs in Ireland . . . . . . . . . . .  20,000
  Monthly assessments in England (at 60,0001.)  . . . 720,000
  Monthly assessments in Ireland (at 8,0001.) . . . .  96,000
  Monthly assessments in Scotland (at 8,0001.)  . . .  96,000
  Crown revenue in Guernsey and Jersey  . . . . . . .   2,000
  Crown revenue in Scotland . . . . . . . . . . . . .   9,000
  Estates of papists and delinquents in England . . .  60,000
  Estates of papists and delinquents in Scotland  . .  30,000
  Rent of houses belonging to the crown . . . . . . .   1,250
  Post-office . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  10,000
  Exchequer revenue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  20,000
  Probate of wills  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  10,000
  Coinage of tin  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   2,000
  Wine licenses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  10,000
  Forest of Dean  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   4,000
  Fines on alienations  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  20,000

[From the original report in the collection of Thomas Lloyd, Esq.]

NOTE I, p. 558.

Principles of the Levellers.

The following statement of the principles maintained by the Levellers is extracted from one of their publications, which appeared soon after the death of Cromwell, entitled “The Leveller; or, The Principles and Maxims concerning Government and Religion, which are asserted by those that are commonly called Levellers, 1659.”

Principles of Government.

1. The government of England ought to be by laws, and not by men; that is, the laws ought to judge of all offences and offenders, and all punishments and penalties to be inflicted upon criminals; nor ought the pleasure of his highness and his council to make whom they please offenders, and punish and imprison whom they please, and during pleasure.

2. All laws, levies of moneys, war and peace, ought be made by the people’s deputies in parliament, to be chosen by them successively at certain periods. Therefore there should be no negative of a monarch, because he will frequently by that means consult his own interest or that of his family, to the prejudice of the people. But it would be well if the deputies of the people were divided into two bodies, one of which should propose the laws, and the other adopt or reject them.

3. All persons, without a single exception, should be subject to the law.

4. The people ought to be formed into such a military posture by and under the parliament, that they may be able to compel every man to obey the law, and defend the country from foreigners. A mercenary (standing) army is dangerous to liberty, and therefore should not be admitted.

Principles of Religion. 1. The assent of the understanding cannot be compelled. Therefore no man can compel another to be of the true religion.

2. Worship follows from the doctrines admitted by the understanding. No man therefore can bind another to adopt any particular form of worship.

3. Works of righteousness and mercy are part of the worship of God, and so far fall under the civil magistrate, that he ought to restrain men from irreligion, that is, injustice, faith-breaking, oppression, and all other evil works that are plainly evil.

4. Nothing is more destructive to true religion than quarrels about religion, and the use of punishments to compel one man to believe as another.

NOTE K, p. 608.

That Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper was deeply engaged in the intrigues of this busy time is sufficiently manifest. He appears to have held himself out to every party as a friend, and to have finally attached himself to the royalists, when he saw that the royal cause was likely to triumph. Charles acknowledged his services in the patent by which he was created Lord Ashley, mentioning in particular “his prudent and seasonable advice with General Monk in order to the king’s restoration."–Dugd. ii. 481. From this passage we may infer that Cooper was one of Monk’s confidential advisers; but his admirers have gone much farther, attributing to him the whole merit of the restoration, and representing the lord-general as a mere puppet in the hands of their hero. In proof they refer to the story told by Locke (iii. 471),–a story which cannot easily be reconciled with the more credible and unpretending narrative of Clarges, in Baker’s Chronicle, p. 602, edit. 1730. But that the reader may form his own judgment, I shall subjoin the chief heads of each in parallel columns.


1. Scot, Hazlerig, and others sought and obtained a private interview with Monk at Whitehall; and Clarges, from their previous conversation with himself, had no doubt that their object was to offer the government of the kingdom to the general.

2. The council of state was sitting in another room; and Clarges, sending for Sir A.A. Cooper, communicated his suspicion to him.

3. After some consultation it was agreed that, as soon as Monk, having dismissed Scot and Hazlerig, should enter the council-room, Cooper should move that the clerks be ordered to withdraw.

4. When this was done, Cooper said that he had received notice of a dangerous design; that some seditious persons had made “indecent proposals" to the general; and of such proposals he desired that the council might have a full discovery.

5. Monk, unwilling to expose them, replied that there was very little danger in the case; that some persons had, indeed, been with him to be resolved in scruples respecting the present transactions in parliament; but that he had sent them away well satisfied (p. 602).

6. Bordeaux offered to Monk through Clarges the aid of Mazarin, whether it were his object to restore the king, or to assume the government himself. Monk refused; but consented to receive a visit of civility from the ambassador, on condition that politics should not be introduced (p. 604).


1. Bordeaux, the French ambassador, visited Monk one evening, and Mrs. Monk, who had secreted herself behind the hangings, heard him offer the aid of Mazarin to her husband, if he was willing to take the government on himself, which offer the general accepted.

2. Mrs. Monk sent her brother Clarges to communicate the discovery of her husband’s ambitious design to Sir A.A. Cooper.

3. Cooper caused a council to be called, and, when they were met, moved that the clerks should withdraw, because he had matter of consequence to communicate.

4. He then charged Monk, “not openly, but by insinuation, that he was playing false with them, so that the rest of the council perceived there was something in it, though they knew not what was meant.”

5. Monk replied that he was willing to satisfy them that he was true to his principles. Then, said Ashley, replace certain officers of suspicious character by others of known fidelity. This was done on the spot; the command of the army by the change was virtually taken from Monk; and he was compelled to declare for Charles Stuart

It may be thought that Locke’s narrative derives confirmation from another version of the same story in the Life of Lord Shaftesbury, lately edited by Mr. Cooke, with the following variations. Bordeaux is made to accompany the republicans; the greater part of the night is spent in consultation, and Monk not only consents to assume the government, but resolves to arrest in the morning Cooper and several other influential individuals (p. 233-235). But that life cannot be considered as an authority; for the documents from which it is said to have been compiled are neither quoted nor described by its author, nor have ever been seen by its present editor.

End of Vol. VIII.