A dense fog prevailed at daybreak. The first engagements were not fortunate for Cromwell and his troops. The men fought almost without seeing each other, to the cries of "Covenant" among the Scotch, and "The Lord of Hosts" amongst the English. The Scottish lancers threw the English advanced guard into some disorder; towards seven o'clock the regiment of Cromwell charged sharply. At the same time the sun, dispersing the mists, lit up the sea and mountains. "Let God arise," exclaimed Cromwell, "and let His enemies be scattered!" Inspired by his enthusiasm, his soldiers redoubled their efforts; the Scotch cavalry wavered; an infantry corps, which yet resisted, was broken by the Ironsides. "They run! they run!" cried the English. The rout had set in. "They were now but stubble to our swords," wrote Cromwell. At nine o'clock the battle had ceased; three thousand dead bodies and ten thousand prisoners testified to the victory of the English general. Four days later he was master of Leith, of all the country in the neighborhood of Edinburgh and of the latter city itself, with the exception of the Castle. Charles II. and his government were at Perth. Lesley, with the remains of his army, had fallen back upon Stirling. The republican Parliament could sleep in peace. Scotland, being invaded, had no longer anything to do but to defend herself upon her territory.
Scotland, in effect, thought only of defending herself; but her king soon thought of attacking. He endeavored to escape, and place himself at the head of the royalist movements which were promised in the northern districts; but, although he was soon retaken and brought back to Perth, his attempt gave uneasiness to Parliament, that resolved to take a decisive step and solemnly crown the king at Scone, according to the ancient Scottish custom. The ceremony took place on the 1st of January, 1651. Charles, who notwithstanding his grave faults, possessed tact and the art of pleasing, took advantage of the crowd which thronged around him to secure numerous partisans. The moderate party began to regain influence in the councils. Argyle once more found himself in rivalry with the Duke of Hamilton, brother of him who had perished upon the scaffold. The Presbyterians were a prey to the most violent dissensions. The royalist party was re-forming.
Meanwhile, Cromwell, whose skillful management constantly thwarted the projects and manœuvres of the king, fell seriously ill; so seriously, that the Parliament of England sent two physicians to take charge of him, and the general himself thought he was at death's door. At the same moment royalist plots burst forth in England, despite the severity displayed towards the Cavaliers, and the strict surveillance to which they were subjected by Scott, who was entrusted with this care in the name of the Council of State.
The plots miscarried, and the health of Cromwell was re-established; meanwhile the king had gained ground. The army had been reorganized according to his desire, and he had been placed at its head by the Presbyterian Parliament. At length master of his actions, he abruptly announced to his council his intention of raising the camp, still at Stirling, and waging war in England, where his partisans were only waiting for his presence to declare themselves. Many people complained, protested; Argyle declared that he would not take part in such an undertaking, and retired to his castle at Inverary. The king persisted. He issued a proclamation, and, on the morrow, being the 31st of July, 1651, he took the road to Carlisle with an army of about twelve thousand men. David Lesley had been nominated his Lieutenant-General.
Cromwell had, doubtless, foreseen this movement, and had made no great effort to prevent it, and he foresaw at the same time the rage and terror which it was about to cause in London. He immediately wrote to Parliament: "As the enemy is some few days' march before us, I do apprehend that it will trouble some men's thoughts, and may occasion some inconveniences, which I hope we are as deeply sensible of and have been, and I trust shall be as diligent to prevent as any; but as there is a possibility for the enemy to put you to some trouble, we pray you would, with the same courage, grounded upon a confidence in God—wherein you have been supported to the great things God hath used you in hitherto—improve the best you can such forces as you have in readiness, or as may on the sudden be gathered together, to give the enemy some check until we shall be able to reach up to him, which we trust in the Lord we shall do our utmost endeavor in. This will be a hopeful end of your work, in which it's good to wait upon the Lord, upon the earnest of former experiences, and hope of His presence, which only is the life of your cause."
Cromwell was not mistaken in his forecasts; uneasiness was rife in London, the fear was great, but vigorous measures were taken. The republican leaders, Vane, Scott, Martyn, were men of active and impassioned courage, resolved to make every effort for their cause. Fresh regiments were raised, the ordinance respecting the militia was put in force again in all the counties; corps of volunteers were trusted to protect London; the surveillance of the Cavaliers was redoubled. Heads of families were forbidden to allow their children and domestics to leave their residences, except at fixed hours. It was hoped thus to prevent the royalist insurrections in favor of Charles, who continued to advance without obstacle in the north-west of England.
The king, indeed, advanced, but the people did not rise at his approach, as he had hoped. Surrounded with strangers and Presbyterians, Charles did not inspire in the Cavaliers or the partisans of the Anglican Church absolute confidence. The acclamations were loud, but his army had been increased by a very small number of English royalists when he arrived before Warrington, upon the banks of the Mersey. One of the most faithful servants of his royal father, the Earl of Derby, living retired in the Isle of Man with his wife, Charlotte de Trémoille, had hastened to offer his services to the monarch. Being commissioned by him to overrun Lancashire to assemble together adherents there, Derby was surprised and defeated by Colonel Robert Lilburne. He escaped, almost alone, and rejoined the king. When he arrived at Worcester, Charles had forced the passage of the Mersey in spite of Lambert and Harrison, despatched by Cromwell to oppose the achievement, and the Scotch, wearied, were establishing themselves in a friendly town, counting upon a few days' repose before the arrival of the Ironsides. The royal standard was solemnly unfurled, and all the subjects of the king were convoked to a great review which was to take place upon the banks of the Severn. Thirty or forty gentlemen only repaired thither with their retinues. Two thousand Englishmen at most joined the Scottish army. Cromwell, on the contrary, had seen his forces trebled during his march. When he arrived before Worcester, on the 28th of August, he numbered under his standards thirty-four thousand men.
A discussion arose in the royal army who should be in chief command upon the day of battle. Buckingham, Lesley, Middleton, all urged their claims or their rights. "I will have no other generalissimo than myself," Charles said, to conciliate all, and he spent his time in reconciling his lieutenants with each other, while Cromwell prepared the attack and sent over to the right bank of the Severn some troops commanded by Lambert and Fleetwood. He himself occupied the left bank. On the 3d of September all was ready.
The king was ill-informed, and did not expect any serious engagement upon that day; but towards noon he ascended the belfry of Worcester Cathedral, and thence perceived several regiments of Cromwell crossing the stream upon a bridge of boats, and marching towards the Scotch corps under the orders of Major-General Montgomery, entrusted with the task of defending the town upon the west. Immediately descending from the belfry, the king mounted a horse and hastened to support his troops, who were attacked. Cromwell was before him in the combat, and was vigorously urging matters forward. The struggle began at the same time upon the right bank; the Scotch resisted firmly. The king re-entered the town, placed himself at the head of his best infantry and his English horsemen, to attack the camp of Cromwell. The general immediately crossed the stream after him, and proceeded to defend his quarters. Fighting was carried on at both extremities of the town: "as stiff a contest as ever I have seen," wrote Cromwell. The corps commanded by the king caused the republicans to waver. Three thousand men of the Scotch cavalry, commanded by Lesley, were under arms in the rear of the king. They received orders to charge; they did not stir. "One hour of Montrose! Only one hour!" cried the English Cavaliers. Montrose was wanting. Cromwell resumed the offensive. The royal infantry lacked provisions. The Duke of Hamilton and Sir John Douglas were mortally wounded. The republicans pushed forward to the foot of the fortress, which was summoned to surrender. The commander replied with cannon balls. The fortress was carried by assault, and the garrison was put to the sword. The struggle became confused; the combatants re-entered the town in disorder. Everywhere munitions of war failed the royal troops, who were falling back upon Worcester, followed by their enemies. Fighting took place in the streets. The king endeavored to rally his men, crying to his friends, "I would rather you would shoot me than keep me alive to see the sad consequence of this fatal day!" But soon his friends were obliged to think only of saving him; a small body of the most ardent Cavaliers threw themselves upon the enemy to open up a passage before the king, and to cover his retreat. While the fugitive monarch was proceeding towards the north with a handful of devoted companions, Cromwell having entered Worcester, which city was given up to pillage, wrote to Parliament, "The battle was fought with varying success, but still hopeful on your part, and in the end became an absolute victory; and so full a one as proved a total defeat and ruin of the enemy's army."
The joy and pride of the English Parliament were as great as the uneasiness which they had felt. Honors and rewards were lavished upon Cromwell and his officers; severities were not spared the vanquished. Six or seven thousand prisoners impeded the march of the triumphant army; the prisoners of importance were numerous. The Duke of Hamilton died of his wounds. The Earl of Derby was tried and executed at Chester, with Sir Timothy Featherstonhaugh and Captain Bembow. "I feel in my conscience," said the earl, on ascending the scaffold, "no scruple as to the cause to which I pledged myself; it is in the name of law and religion that I have supported it; my judgment is fulfilled; and I thank God for it, I have not the presumption to decide in these controversies. I pray God to cause to prosper for His glory those who are in the right, and I wish you as much grace and peace as I am about to find beyond all that you possess here." Parliament did not add to such examples. The virtuous nobleman, the loyal and independent servant, was not followed upon the scaffold by those who had supported the same cause without being his friends, nor worthy of being so. While Charlotte de la Trémoille was yet guarding for the king the Isle of Man, which was only wrested from her by treachery, the tower held within its walls the greater number of the prisoners of note. The royalist soldiers were secretly sold or given to merchants and planters for the work of the colonies and the African mines. Parliament offered a reward of one thousand pounds sterling to whoever should deliver up Charles Stuart, "son of the late tyrant."
The king, meanwhile, was flying across the kingdom, hiding from mansion to mansion, from farm to farm—sometimes concealed in the habitations which served as retreats for the proscribed Catholic priests, hearing or seeing at every moment the republican soldiers who were seeking him, ready to seize him; sometimes in the garb of a peasant, sometimes in that of a domestic. He spent one night hidden in the leafy branches of a great tree, which has since that time preserved the name of "the Royal Oak." Imperturbably gay and fearless, Charles braved the dangers, which disappeared more than once before his resolution and skillful self-confidence. All his efforts were directed towards reaching the coast, where he counted upon embarking for France. Several attempts to charter a small vessel had failed, when, on the 14th of October, near Shoreham, the master of a bark at length promised to take "the gentleman whom he had been spoken to about." When he saw the king he took aside the merchant who had engaged him: "You have not dealt fairly with me," he said; "you have not been clear with me; for he is the king, and I very well know him to be so." And as the merchant was denying with effrontery his statement, "I know him very well," repeated the master, "but be not troubled at it, for I think I do God and my country good service in preserving the king; and by the grace of God I will venture my life and all for him, and set him safely on shore, if I can, in France." The master kept his word; the king and Lord Willmot, who had not left him, landed from a small fishing-smack at Fécamp, on the 16th of October, at one o'clock in the afternoon. They repaired at once to Rouen; but they were so poorly clad, and presented so bad an appearance, that they could not get admittance at the inn at which they presented themselves. On the 30th Charles at length arrived in Paris, where the queen, his mother, resided, after having wandered for forty-two days across England, concealed in eight different places of refuge, and known to forty-five persons whose names are recorded, without having suffered from any betrayal, without having been even placed in peril by an act of indiscretion; a rare proof of an intelligent and passionate fidelity towards one in the depth of misfortune.
Meanwhile Cromwell had returned in triumph to London, and had established himself at Whitehall. Before his death, of typhus fever, Ireton had completed the subjugation of Ireland. Monk had conquered Scotland. The fleets of the Commonwealth of England had compelled the Channel Islands to return to their obedience. The distant colonies had accepted the new rule. Parliament was master of all English territory; it remained for it to treat with Europe.
Europe was, at first, ill-disposed towards Parliament and the Commonwealth. The trial and execution of Charles I. had caused a powerful sensation, though for different reasons and in different degrees. The Protestants felt the need of clearing themselves from association with this deed. The Catholics saw in it the fruits of heresy. In France, amidst the agitations of "The Fronde," the Parliament of England had found admirers; but the English revolution, with its consequences, soon excited an exasperation mingled with alarm, which the presence of Queen Henrietta Maria, her sons and her fugitive partisans continued to maintain. Cardinal Mazarin had taken no step in the name of the little king, Louis XIV., for saving of the king his uncle. The two solemn letters written to Cromwell and Fairfax were delivered. Before they had even been despatched from Paris, the king was executed. When he was dead, however, the ambassador, M. de Bellièvre was recalled, and his secretary, M. de Croullé, alone remained entrusted to take charge officially of French interests. Careful to maintain everywhere relations which might prejudice its rivals, Spain did not recall Don Alonzo de Cardeñas; but it neglected to renew his credentials, and he acquired no official position in the Commonwealth of England. Alone, of all the sovereigns of Europe, the Czar of Russia, Alexis, the father of Peter the Great, severed all connection with the revolutionary republic, and drove English merchants from his empire.
At the Hague, in the United Provinces, notwithstanding the hostile feelings of a great portion of the States-General, the devotion of the Prince of Orange to the family of his wife preserved for the fallen English monarchy a support and shelter. It was at the Hague that Doctor Dorislaüs, a Dutchman long naturalized in England, and but recently employed to draw up the impeachment of Charles I., was assassinated, shortly after the death of the king, by some cavaliers who had taken refuge in Holland. Such was also to be the fate a few months later, in an inn at Madrid, of Asham, who had placed his talent as a writer at the service of the revolution. At the Hague, as at Madrid, public feeling was on the side of the murderers. A Dutch patrician might have said with Don Luis de Haro, "I envy the gentlemen who have done so noble a deed; whatever may befall them in consequence, they have avenged the blood of their sovereign. If the king my master had had subjects as resolute, he would not have lost his kingdom of Portugal!"
The words of diplomatists are not always in accordance with their acts. The English Parliament was not moved by the outburst of indignation and legitimate anger which had seized on monarchical and conservative Europe, at the sight of the triumphant revolution. Reserved and haughty, it waited, with distrust, but without any outburst of passion, until its successes and its power should compel its enemies to recognize the Commonwealth of England. The name did not terrify the sovereigns of the Continent. The republic of the United Provinces and the Swiss leagues had lived in peace without disturbing the repose of Europe. Monarchical power was becoming strengthened in France, Germany, and Spain, at the moment when the throne was falling in ruins in England. In vain did Charles II. send agents everywhere, accredit ambassadors at the courts of all the sovereigns of Europe. They were received with kindness and with empty looks. Care was taken not to go beyond this limit, and a strict neutrality reigned between the exiled monarch and the republican government. "The servants of the king of Great Britain," the agent of Cardinal Mazarin in Scotland, M. de Graymond, wrote to him on the 23rd of October, 1649, "are here uttering curses against all the kings and sovereigns of the earth, and principally against his Majesty, if he does not assist their king, after whose ruin, they desire that of all the others. … They do not fear to say that they will contribute with all their might to their destruction, which will be very easy for them to bring about, the people having once got a scent, through the example of England, of the delights of popular power. … They say that Cromwell will begin with us, and that we fully deserve it, because we do not think of the restoration of the King of England, though we have the greatest interest to do so."
Upon one single point Parliament discarded its prudent and calm attitude. In the month of June, 1648, eleven English crews, having revolted against Parliament, proceeded to Holland to place their ships under the orders of the Prince of Wales, and to serve the cause of the captive king. Prince Rupert assumed the command of this royal fleet, and from that time forth he prosecuted at sea, against the Commonwealth, the implacable, roving, and plundering warfare, which he had but recently sustained upon land against Parliament. Charles II. found in the captures of his cousin precious safeguards against poverty. A number of shipowners of all countries asked permission to join the expeditions of the prince, so as to share the profits of them. They paid a tithe to the king. All security disappeared from the seas. The ships of the King of France, as well as those of the States-General of Holland, did not disdain sometimes to lower their standards, and to take part in the expeditions and captures. Against these ruinous and insulting measures Parliament reorganized and immediately augmented its fleet. In the winter of 1650-1651, several squadrons were sent out to protect the English flag in all parts. Before the end of the winter the fleet of Prince Rupert, pursued from the coast of Ireland to Portugal and Spain, by the republican admiral Blake, took refuge, greatly diminished, in the Mediterranean, and thence, upon the coast of Africa, while Parliament, determined to punish equally the French pirates, took possession of six vessels, which were confiscated. The complaints which came from Paris upon this subject were not listened to. Upon the seas the Commonwealth had caused its power to be felt; it was there dreaded by its enemies and respected by its rivals.
Meanwhile the Spaniards were prosecuting in London secret and troublesome manœuvres which gave great uneasiness to Cardinal Mazarin. Through a want of sagacity and foresight, a hatred of Queen Henrietta-Maria, and a distrust towards her family, Parliament had not discovered that the power of Spain was declining, and that the House of Austria was divided and enervated, while France and the House of Bourbon were walking hand-in-hand in a path of rapid and bold progress. It was towards Spain that the preference of the Republican government inclined. It was Spain which first recognized the Commonwealth. On the 24th of December, 1650, Don Alonzo de Cardeñas was received in solemn audience by Parliament, and a few days later, on the 6th of January, 1651, M. de Croullé was arrested at his residence, while a priest was repeating mass to him, and was conducted before the Council of State, who ordered him to quit England within ten days. Some secret negotiations were attempted, to bring about a reconciliation, but Mazarin was tottering, and soon found himself compelled to fly from France. Spain remained sole mistress of the situation until the end of the year 1654.
A much more pressing matter at this moment occupied the minds of the republican leaders. The Prince of Orange had died (6th of November, 1650), and the disappearance of his influence reduced the United Provinces and the States-General to a complete decline. Republican traditions gained fresh force; the civic aristocracy, scattered by the House of Nassau, was regaining power. Everything indicated fresh favor towards the Commonwealth of England, of which the latter power speedily took advantage. Two envoys extraordinary, St. John and Walter Strickland, set out in great magnificence for the Hague; they were eagerly received. The intimate alliance of the two Protestant republics appeared to be on the eve of consummation. The immoderate ambition of St. John, as well as of the Parliamentary leaders whom he represented, placed an obstacle in the way of this desirable result. Their pretensions involved nothing less than the incorporation of the United Provinces in the Commonwealth of England, and the formation of one state under a single government.
Such audacity was difficult to express in words. Two months elapsed. The situation at the Hague became every day more grave. The Cavaliers were numerous there at the court of the young Duke of York. Their plots, in conjunction with the party of Orange, thwarted the efforts of the Dutch patriots. "Add to that," John de Witt subsequently said, "the intolerable caprice of the English nation, its continual jealousy of our prosperity, and the mortal hatred of Cromwell towards the young Prince of Orange, son of the sister of this banished king, who was what he feared most in the world." Negotiations did not progress, and when St. John at length decided to put forth in seven articles some of his pretensions, they so completely subordinated the policy of the United Provinces to the policy and interest of the Commonwealth of England, that it was not difficult to foresee the failure of the envoys. They quitted the Hague on the 1st of July, 1651, haughty and menacing. "Believe me," said St. John to the Dutch with whom he had negotiated, "you will repent having rejected our offers." On the 5th of August Whitelocke introduced into Parliament a bill known under the name of "The Navigation Act," which prohibited all foreign nations from importing into England any commodity which should not be the produce of the soil or of the industry of their own country. It was the most serious blow which could have been struck at Holland, whose transit business brought it wealth. Before the end of the year the Bill was passed and put in force. The United Provinces had not allowed themselves to be conquered by negotiations; war was prepared against them.
Meanwhile the battle of Worcester had caused the scale in Europe to incline decidedly towards the Commonwealth. Recognition, and the resumption of official relations came from all quarters. Don Alonzo de Cardeñas was entrusted to propose a treaty of alliance in the name of Spain, and the Republicans manifested sufficient inclination to accept it. Impelled by so many perils, Mazarin at length adopted his course. He had been for more than a year in negotiation with the English, endeavoring to cause the recognition of the Commonwealth to be purchased by a declaration of England in favor of France and opposed to Spain. He had failed: seven French vessels, having departed from Calais to revictual Dunkirk, which the Spaniards were closely besieging, had been captured by Blake, and Parliament refused to surrender them. The neutrality of the English appeared to be about to cease. The Cardinal commissioned M. de Bordeaux to bear a letter of the king to Parliament and to re-establish the official relations of the two States. The envoy did not possess the title of ambassador, and the letter of Louis XIV. was addressed to "Our dear and great friends the people of the Parliament and the Commonwealth of England." The State Council refused to receive the missive thus addressed. It soon returned with the superscription, "To the Parliament of the Commonwealth of England." Bordeaux was then received, not by Parliament, nor by the Council of State, but by a committee of this latter body. Relations were re-established, with bad grace on the part of France, without good-will on that of the English Republicans. "In my great misfortune, I experienced nothing equal to this," wrote Henrietta-Maria, in the meantime. Charles II. spoke of quitting Paris, but he still remained there. His pension of six thousand livres per month was continued, but his situation became more and more isolated and depressing, and his faithful counsellors all urged him to seek shelter elsewhere.
Holland could no longer offer him support. A decree of the States-General had closed their territory to foreign princes. Although the Dutch statesmen in their patriotism and foresight had rejected the foolish pretensions of St. John, they sincerely wished for peace. A solemn embassy was despatched to London to resume negotiations. Upon their appearance in Westminster Hall, the speaker and all the members of Parliament rose and removed their hats; but this act of courtesy indicated no modification in their pride and rancor. They listened to the proposals of the Dutchmen with the obstinacy of haughty power, confident in its might, ardent in avenging itself for a disappointment which it held as an insult. The disposition of the people corresponded with that of Parliament. More than once the population attacked the house which the Dutchmen occupied at Chelsea. It was found necessary to assign a guard to the ambassadors.
Amidst these diplomatic agitations, it suddenly became known that, on the 12th of May, off Dover, the Dutch fleet, commanded by Tromp, and the English fleet, commanded by Blake, had encountered and fought. It was said that Tromp had refused a salute peremptorily demanded by Blake, and that upon a reiterated summons, he had fired upon the admiral's vessel. The struggle had been brisk, but without decisive issue. Popular wrath was the more immediate result of this. All the explanations given by a new envoy, Adrian de Paw, and the assurance that Tromp had received no instructions, did not appease the chiefs of the Council of State. On the 7th of July, 1652, war was declared, and fifteen days later the States-General accepted perforce and with sadness the challenge which had been thrown down to them.
The navy of the United Provinces at this time was more renowned than that of England: captains and sailors were inured to long cruises; their admirals already practiced ingenious contrivances as yet unknown to the English. The latter, on the other hand, possessed larger vessels, well manned and rigged; they were more ardent in battle, and supported by a country richer and more powerful than Holland. The war opened with impassioned activity. Blake dispersed the fleet of herring-fishers upon the coast of Scotland after having defeated the men-of-war which protected them. Tromp endeavored to avenge his compatriots upon the fleet of Sir George Ayscough; but he was detained in the first place by a calm, and afterwards beaten about by a storm. Blake, coming to the assistance of Ayscough, triumphed without fighting. He impudently cruised along the western coast of the United Provinces before returning to Yarmouth, leading in his wake his prizes and nine hundred prisoners.
Tromp gave in his resignation. He belonged to the party of Orange, and had no taste for serving the States-General. He was replaced by Michael Ruyter, a man of obscure origin, of popular renown, a stranger to political parties and passionately devoted to his country. He soon compelled Ayscough to return into port at Plymouth, leaving the Dutch masters of the English Channel. He marvelled at his own success. "It is only," he said, "when it pleases God to give courage that one gains a victory. This is a work of Providence which cannot be accounted for by man." Proud of this victory and being resolved to prosecute the war with vigor, the States-General gave the command of a new squadron to Cornelis de Witt, one of the boldest of the aristocratic leaders, and committed the mistake of placing Ruyter under his orders. Cornelis de Witt was courageous in the extreme, but harsh and little liked by the sailors. The Dutch encountered the fleet of Blake. Ruyter was not in favor of giving battle; but de Witt pressed forward. After a desperate fight, which lasted during the whole of the day, the advantage rested everywhere with the English, so much so, that on the morrow it was impossible for the fleet of the States-General to resume the struggle, as Cornelis de Witt wished. They were compelled to return into the ports, followed by Blake, who was anxious to make manifest his victory. Constrained by the public voice, the States restored to Tromp the command of their forces. Ruyter offered no objection to serving under his orders. Cornelis de Witt was sick and refused. On the 30th of November, 1652, at the moment when the Parliament of England and its admirals thought themselves absolved from fresh efforts, the Dutch fleet, composed of seventy-three vessels, attacked Blake, who had but thirty-seven. The English were defeated, and Tromp cruised about the Channel as a conqueror, carrying a broom at his mainmast head, thus braving the English navy even in those seas of which it claimed the sovereignty.
Parliament did not accept the resignation tendered by Blake; it sent him important reinforcements. In all the ports the available vessels were put in requisition, and two months and a half later, on the 18th of February, 1653, Blake in his turn was seeking the enemy. Tromp was occupied in protecting a rich convoy of merchant vessels, which impeded his progress. He fought for four days with consummate skill and prudence, continuing to press forward towards the coast of Holland, in order to conduct his convoy thither. When he had at length succeeded in this object, an incontestable advantage rested with the English. Parliament made a great demonstration over a victory which had cost them dear. The war did not progress, and the expenses were becoming enormous. The courts of Europe, divided between the two belligerents, sought to embitter the hostilities rather than to appease them. The ambitious and improvident arrogance of the English Parliament had plunged it into a policy which placed the Commonwealth at contention with its natural friends without securing any ally. At home, it had to contend against ever-renewing difficulties, and to apply increasing severities. It was from the Cavaliers that the money necessary for supporting the war was extorted. While tyranny was resorted to for providing for the wants which a bad foreign policy had created, Cromwell, powerful but inactive, was silently undermining the ground beneath the feet of Parliament, by skillfully taking advantage of its faults.
Cromwell was inactive for good reasons. On the morrow of the victory of Worcester, Parliament, anxious both to diminish its burdens and to enfeeble its rival, had disbanded a portion of the army, while preparing for further reductions. The general, loaded with presents and with marks of gratitude, had returned to take his place in the House, where his presence soon caused itself to be felt. By his influence, and notwithstanding the resistance of the majority of the Republican leaders, two popular measures were voted, a general amnesty act and an electoral law decreeing that Parliament should not sit beyond the 3d of November, 1654. This was in the month of November, 1651: a duration of three years longer was thus assigned to the contest which was beginning between Cromwell and Parliament. Cromwell had too much good sense not to be prepared to wait. He appreciated correctly what was possible, and he stopped even when his desires and his schemes would have led him further. He had succeeded in fixing a term to the existence of Parliament. His efforts, now impassioned and brilliant, now secret and indirect, were soon to harass the power with which he was contending. He contrived with this object to put every means into operation.
The spirit of innovation had taken possession of the young Republic. On all hands bold projects, chimerical or practical, were submitted to Cromwell, who knew by instinct the popular wants and desires. He had constituted himself the patron of reform in the matter of civil proceedings, and more than once he authorized his officers to constitute themselves as improvised judges. In ecclesiastical matters, amidst new sects which sprang up every day, Cromwell never abandoned two great principles, the liberty of conscience, and the regular preaching of the Gospel. The Presbyterians furnished him with pious and learned preachers in great numbers. The persecuted of all parties claimed his support. In all ranks and beneath all Christian standards, he established relations and nourished fruitful hopes. He wished to assure himself of the forces which he had conquered, and to act in a manner favorable to his soldiers.
Upon one occasion, at the residence of the speaker of the House of Commons, Lenthall, some leaders of the army and of Parliament were assembled. Cromwell submitted to the little assemblage the question of a stable government for the nation. The lawyer, Whitelocke, came at once to the point. "I should humbly offer," he said, "whether it be not requisite to be understood in what way this settlement is desired. Whether of an absolute Republic, or with any mixture of monarchy?"
That in fact was the question constantly revived and discussed in these social meetings, which every day assumed more importance. Cromwell prudently advocated the establishment of a single power. He had perceived that the thoughts of some rested upon the young Duke of Gloucester, still in the hands of Parliament. He contrived to restore the little prince to liberty. The child was sent to Holland, to his sister, the Princess of Orange. This royalist competitor being sent away, Cromwell prosecuted his purpose. His daughter, the widow of Ireton, had recently married Fleetwood. He nominated his son-in-law to the command of the forces of Ireland, taking to his own charge the expenditure of Lambert while he had been Lord Deputy. The petitions of the army recommenced. "Take care," said Whitelocke to Cromwell, "this manner of causing the officers to petition thus, sword in hand, might very possibly be inconvenient to you some day!" But Cromwell was more anxious about the success of his schemes than concerned about the embarrassments which he might cause to spring up. He proceeded towards his end, feeling his way at each step. "What if a man should take upon himself to be king?" he said one day to Whitelocke after a long conversation. "As to your own person," said the shrewd lawyer, "the title of king would be of no advantage." And in expounding the reasons for his remark, he finally proposed to Cromwell a negotiation with King Charles II. and the Scotch, for effecting a restoration. Cromwell did not reply, and changed the conversation, being urged in different directions by his own desire and by the adverse opinions of the men whom he questioned. The English army was devoted to him; that of Ireland was more divided, owing to the influence of Ludlow. Streater, an officer in this army, came to England with some comrades, to oppose the designs which he foresaw. He accused the general of seeking his own aggrandizement. Harrison resented this accusation, saying that he was sure that the general only wished to open up the way for the reign of Christ. "Well!" replied Streater, "let Christ come then before Christmas, otherwise He will come too late."
The danger was not so urgent. Cromwell allowed his adversaries time to wear themselves out in public estimation. He ceased to oppose the new reduction of the army. Absolute master of the fortune and the fate of all, Parliament soon came to be regarded in public opinion as an iniquitous and corrupt judge.
This was the juncture which Cromwell had waited for. Impelled by the country, the Republican chiefs themselves prepared the bill of dissolution and the law according to which a new Parliament was to be elected. They still hoped to mislead the public; their proposal retained the sitting members as the nucleus of the new assembly; it was represented as a question of completing, not of renewing Parliament.
Cromwell was not in the House, on the 20th of April, 1653, when Vane, Martyn, and Sydney introduced what they styled the Dissolution Bill, while urging its immediate adoption. Colonel Ingoldsby arrived in haste at Whitehall.
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Cromwell Dismissing The Long Parliament.
"If you wish to do something decisive," he said to Cromwell, "you have not a moment to lose." The general proceeded in the direction of Westminster, posted some troops at the gates, and entered, sitting quietly in his usual place. St. John approached him. "I have come," said Cromwell, "with a purpose of doing what grieves me to the very soul, and what I have earnestly with tears besought the Lord not to impose upon me. I would rather a thousand times be torn piecemeal than do it, but there is a necessity which weighs upon me in order to the glory of God and good of the nation." Vane had ceased speaking: the speaker was about to put the Bill to a vote. Cromwell rose and began to speak, in the first place doing justice to Parliament, to its zeal and to the services which it had rendered to the country; then gradually changing his tone, he reproached the members of the House with their procrastinations and their corruption. "You only wish to perpetuate yourselves in power. Your hour has come; the Lord has done with you—He who has taken me by the hand and who causes me to do what I do." Vane and his friends endeavored to reply; all spoke together. Cromwell replaced his hat upon his head, and stepping into the middle of the Hall, "I will put an end to your prating," he exclaimed. Upon a sign from Harrison, the door opened, and a platoon of musketeers entered the Hall. "You are no Parliament, get you gone," said the general; "give place to honester men!" And as Lenthall refused to quit the chair, "Take him down then yourself," said Cromwell. Harrison placed his hand upon the robe of the speaker, who submitted. The members resisted. "It is contrary to morality and common honesty," exclaimed Vane, "it is an indignity." "Oh, Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane," replied Cromwell, "you might have anticipated all this, but you are but a juggler; the Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane." He addressed the members one by one as they issued forth, reproaching them for their faults and vices. The Hall was becoming empty; the general caused the papers to be seized, taking from the hands of the clerk on duty the Dissolution Bill which was about to have been put to the vote. He alone remained and caused the doors to be locked. As he returned to Whitehall, "I did not think of doing this," he said to his friends who were awaiting him, "but I felt the Spirit of God so strong with me that I heeded neither flesh nor blood."
A few hours later, the Council of State was also dissolved, notwithstanding the protestations of the president, Bradshaw. On the morrow, the passers-by stopped before Westminster Hall, to read a large placard, the night-work of some cavalier, on which were the words, written in large characters: "This house is now to be let unfurnished."
The deed was done. Parliament, which had at first aided, then thwarted Cromwell in his aims and in the exercise of power, had ceased to exist. A Council of State, composed of twelve members, convoked and presided over by the general himself, was henceforth charged with the control of public affairs. No resistance was offered. Scarcely had some austere Republicans protested when Cromwell felt the weight to be too heavy for his robust shoulders. The Government of England was not, could not be the absolute rule of one man. The semblance of a Parliament at least was necessary. He resolved to constitute it himself with the men designated for public approval by their virtues and their piety. A hundred and thirty-nine persons were thus chosen and convoked in the name of Oliver Cromwell, Captain-general of the forces of the Commonwealth. On the 4th of July, 1653, in the Council-chamber at Whitehall, the men elected by Cromwell listened to his address, which was long and diffuse as usual, but which tended entirely to give them confidence in their task and in their right to govern their country. "Accept your trust, for, I repeat to you, it is of God."
Cromwell in vain endeavored to establish upon the solid basis of Divine will that power which he had established with his own hands and which he was shortly about to overthrow. The "Barebones Parliament," as it was called, from the name of one of its members, sat for five months, laborious and exact, ardently occupied in reforming abuses and in establishing a new legislature, it was at the same time inclined to dispute the power and actions of the general more often than was agreeable to Cromwell. He had but recently leant for support upon the sectarian reformers, but he soon felt that such innovators, available for destroying, were still prone to destroy the very power which they had raised; he resolved, therefore, to rid himself of them. He declared this to the Anabaptist preacher, Feake, whose violence embarrassed and exasperated him. "Be assured that on the day when I shall be pressed by my enemies, more pressed than I have ever been, it will be with you that I shall begin to rid myself of them," he said. He found in the very midst of Parliament the instruments necessary for his purpose.
On Monday, the 12th of December, 1653, the friends of the general were assembled together at an early hour in the House. Scarcely had they concluded prayers, which were said as usual by one of the members present, when Colonel Sydenham, addressing the House, vigorously attacked the reformers, or rather the revolutionists, who, he said, rendered all government impossible. "I propose to declare that the sitting of this Parliament any longer would be of no service to the nation, and that we shall repair in a body to the Lord-general and resign the trust which has been committed to us."
A debate began upon this strange proposal. The reformers defended themselves. They sent warning to their friends, who arrived in haste. The issue became doubtful. Rouse, the speaker, abruptly closed the sitting, and proceeded to Whitehall, accompanied by forty members: thirty or thirty-five remained in the House, embarrassed and indignant. They did not muster a sufficient number to deliberate; some began to pray. Colonel Goffe entered with a platoon of soldiers and caused the place to be cleared. Four days later, the act of abdication of the "Barebones" Parliament had received eighty signatures, and Cromwell solemnly accepted the government from the hands of the army in the name of the three nations of England, Scotland, and Ireland, under the title of Protector.
This was the re-establishment of a single power, the first step towards the restoration of a monarchy. As Whitelocke had shortly before predicted to Cromwell, it was henceforth against him that all the blows were directed. Sectaries, passionate like Feake, or sincere like Major Harrison, refused to recognize the new government. Several colonels immediately entered into hostile conspiracies. John Lilburne had reappeared in England, and, although immediately incarcerated in Newgate, he had begun once more to write and to agitate the public with his indefatigable ardor. Cromwell resolved to place him upon his trial. "Freeborn John," wrote one of the confidants of the Protector, "has been sent to the Old Bailey Sessions, and I think that he will soon be hanged."