Oliver Cromwell whom the
people long called OLD NOLL in accepting
the office of Protector, had bound himself by a certain
paper which was handed to him, called ‘the Instrument,’
to summon a Parliament, consisting of between four
and five hundred members, in the election of which
neither the Royalists nor the Catholics were to have
any share. He had also pledged himself that
this Parliament should not be dissolved without its
own consent until it had sat five months.
When this Parliament met, Oliver made
a speech to them of three hours long, very wisely
advising them what to do for the credit and happiness
of the country. To keep down the more violent
members, he required them to sign a recognition of
what they were forbidden by ‘the Instrument’
to do; which was, chiefly, to take the power from
one single person at the head of the state or to command
the army. Then he dismissed them to go to work.
With his usual vigour and resolution he went to work
himself with some frantic preachers who
were rather overdoing their sermons in calling him
a villain and a tyrant by shutting up their
chapels, and sending a few of them off to prison.
There was not at that time, in England
or anywhere else, a man so able to govern the country
as Oliver Cromwell. Although he ruled with a
strong hand, and levied a very heavy tax on the Royalists
(but not until they had plotted against his life),
he ruled wisely, and as the times required.
He caused England to be so respected abroad, that I
wish some lords and gentlemen who have governed it
under kings and queens in later days would have taken
a leaf out of Oliver Cromwell’s book. He
sent bold Admiral Blake to the Mediterranean Sea,
to make the Duke of Tuscany pay sixty thousand pounds
for injuries he had done to British subjects, and
spoliation he had committed on English merchants.
He further despatched him and his fleet to Algiers,
Tunis, and Tripoli, to have every English ship and
every English man delivered up to him that had been
taken by pirates in those parts. All this was
gloriously done; and it began to be thoroughly well
known, all over the world, that England was governed
by a man in earnest, who would not allow the English
name to be insulted or slighted anywhere.
These were not all his foreign triumphs.
He sent a fleet to sea against the Dutch; and the
two powers, each with one hundred ships upon its side,
met in the English Channel off the North Foreland,
where the fight lasted all day long. Dean was
killed in this fight; but Monk, who commanded in the
same ship with him, threw his cloak over his body,
that the sailors might not know of his death, and
be disheartened. Nor were they. The English
broadsides so exceedingly astonished the Dutch that
they sheered off at last, though the redoubtable Van
Tromp fired upon them with his own guns for deserting
their flag. Soon afterwards, the two fleets
engaged again, off the coast of Holland. There,
the valiant Van Tromp was shot through the heart,
and the Dutch gave in, and peace was made.
Further than this, Oliver resolved
not to bear the domineering and bigoted conduct of
Spain, which country not only claimed a right to all
the gold and silver that could be found in South America,
and treated the ships of all other countries who visited
those regions, as pirates, but put English subjects
into the horrible Spanish prisons of the Inquisition.
So, Oliver told the Spanish ambassador that English
ships must be free to go wherever they would, and
that English merchants must not be thrown into those
same dungeons, no, not for the pleasure of all the
priests in Spain. To this, the Spanish ambassador
replied that the gold and silver country, and the
Holy Inquisition, were his King’s two eyes,
neither of which he could submit to have put out.
Very well, said Oliver, then he was afraid he (Oliver)
must damage those two eyes directly.
So, another fleet was despatched under
two commanders, PENN and VENABLES, for Hispaniola;
where, however, the Spaniards got the better of the
fight. Consequently, the fleet came home again,
after taking Jamaica on the way. Oliver, indignant
with the two commanders who had not done what bold
Admiral Blake would have done, clapped them both into
prison, declared war against Spain, and made a treaty
with France, in virtue of which it was to shelter
the King and his brother the Duke of York no longer.
Then, he sent a fleet abroad under bold Admiral Blake,
which brought the King of Portugal to his senses just
to keep its hand in and then engaged a
Spanish fleet, sunk four great ships, and took two
more, laden with silver to the value of two millions
of pounds: which dazzling prize was brought from
Portsmouth to London in waggons, with the populace
of all the towns and villages through which the waggons
passed, shouting with all their might. After
this victory, bold Admiral Blake sailed away to the
port of Santa Cruz to cut off the Spanish treasure-ships
coming from Mexico. There, he found them, ten
in number, with seven others to take care of them,
and a big castle, and seven batteries, all roaring
and blazing away at him with great guns. Blake
cared no more for great guns than for pop-guns no
more for their hot iron balls than for snow-balls.
He dashed into the harbour, captured and burnt every
one of the ships, and came sailing out again triumphantly,
with the victorious English flag flying at his masthead.
This was the last triumph of this great commander,
who had sailed and fought until he was quite worn out.
He died, as his successful ship was coming into Plymouth
Harbour amidst the joyful acclamations of the
people, and was buried in state in Westminster Abbey.
Not to lie there, long.
Over and above all this, Oliver found
that the VAUDOIS, or Protestant people of the valleys
of Lucerne, were insolently treated by the Catholic
powers, and were even put to death for their religion,
in an audacious and bloody manner. Instantly,
he informed those powers that this was a thing which
Protestant England would not allow; and he speedily
carried his point, through the might of his great
name, and established their right to worship God in
peace after their own harmless manner.
Lastly, his English army won such
admiration in fighting with the French against the
Spaniards, that, after they had assaulted the town
of Dunkirk together, the French King in person gave
it up to the English, that it might be a token to
them of their might and valour.
There were plots enough against Oliver
among the frantic religionists (who called themselves
Fifth Monarchy Men), and among the disappointed Republicans.
He had a difficult game to play, for the Royalists
were always ready to side with either party against
him. The ’King over the water,’
too, as Charles was called, had no scruples about plotting
with any one against his life; although there is reason
to suppose that he would willingly have married one
of his daughters, if Oliver would have had such a
son-in-law. There was a certain COLONEL SAXBY
of the army, once a great supporter of Oliver’s
but now turned against him, who was a grievous trouble
to him through all this part of his career; and who
came and went between the discontented in England
and Spain, and Charles who put himself in alliance
with Spain on being thrown off by France. This
man died in prison at last; but not until there had
been very serious plots between the Royalists and
Republicans, and an actual rising of them in England,
when they burst into the city of Salisbury, on a Sunday
night, seized the judges who were going to hold the
assizes there next day, and would have hanged them
but for the merciful objections of the more temperate
of their number. Oliver was so vigorous and shrewd
that he soon put this revolt down, as he did most
other conspiracies; and it was well for one of its
chief managers that same Lord Wilmot who
had assisted in Charles’s flight, and was now
EARL OF ROCHESTER that he made his escape.
Oliver seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere, and
secured such sources of information as his enemies
little dreamed of. There was a chosen body of
six persons, called the Sealed Knot, who were in the
closest and most secret confidence of Charles.
One of the foremost of these very men, a SIR RICHARD
WILLIS, reported to Oliver everything that passed
among them, and had two hundred a year for it.
MILES SYNDARCOMB, also of the old
army, was another conspirator against the Protector.
He and a man named CECIL, bribed one of his Life Guards
to let them have good notice when he was going out intending
to shoot him from a window. But, owing either
to his caution or his good fortune, they could never
get an aim at him. Disappointed in this design,
they got into the chapel in Whitehall, with a basketful
of combustibles, which were to explode by means of
a slow match in six hours; then, in the noise and
confusion of the fire, they hoped to kill Oliver.
But, the Life Guardsman himself disclosed this plot;
and they were seized, and Miles died (or killed himself
in prison) a little while before he was ordered for
execution. A few such plotters Oliver caused
to be beheaded, a few more to be hanged, and many
more, including those who rose in arms against him,
to be sent as slaves to the West Indies. If he
were rigid, he was impartial too, in asserting the
laws of England. When a Portuguese nobleman,
the brother of the Portuguese ambassador, killed a
London citizen in mistake for another man with whom
he had had a quarrel, Oliver caused him to be tried
before a jury of Englishmen and foreigners, and had
him executed in spite of the entreaties of all the
ambassadors in London.
One of Oliver’s own friends,
the DUKE OF OLDENBURGH, in sending him a present of
six fine coach-horses, was very near doing more to
please the Royalists than all the plotters put together.
One day, Oliver went with his coach, drawn by these
six horses, into Hyde Park, to dine with his secretary
and some of his other gentlemen under the trees there.
After dinner, being merry, he took it into his head
to put his friends inside and to drive them home:
a postillion riding one of the foremost horses, as
the custom was. On account of Oliver’s
being too free with the whip, the six fine horses
went off at a gallop, the postillion got thrown, and
Oliver fell upon the coach-pole and narrowly escaped
being shot by his own pistol, which got entangled
with his clothes in the harness, and went off.
He was dragged some distance by the foot, until his
foot came out of the shoe, and then he came safely
to the ground under the broad body of the coach, and
was very little the worse. The gentlemen inside
were only bruised, and the discontented people of
all parties were much disappointed.
The rest of the history of the Protectorate
of Oliver Cromwell is a history of his Parliaments.
His first one not pleasing him at all, he waited
until the five months were out, and then dissolved
it. The next was better suited to his views;
and from that he desired to get if he could
with safety to himself the title of King.
He had had this in his mind some time: whether
because he thought that the English people, being
more used to the title, were more likely to obey it;
or whether because he really wished to be a king himself,
and to leave the succession to that title in his family,
is far from clear. He was already as high, in
England and in all the world, as he would ever be,
and I doubt if he cared for the mere name. However,
a paper, called the ’Humble Petition and Advice,’
was presented to him by the House of Commons, praying
him to take a high title and to appoint his successor.
That he would have taken the title of King there
is no doubt, but for the strong opposition of the
army. This induced him to forbear, and to assent
only to the other points of the petition. Upon
which occasion there was another grand show in Westminster
Hall, when the Speaker of the House of Commons formally
invested him with a purple robe lined with ermine,
and presented him with a splendidly bound Bible, and
put a golden sceptre in his hand. The next time
the Parliament met, he called a House of Lords of sixty
members, as the petition gave him power to do; but
as that Parliament did not please him either, and
would not proceed to the business of the country, he
jumped into a coach one morning, took six Guards with
him, and sent them to the right-about. I wish
this had been a warning to Parliaments to avoid long
speeches, and do more work.
It was the month of August, one thousand
six hundred and fifty-eight, when Oliver Cromwell’s
favourite daughter, ELIZABETH CLAYPOLE (who had lately
lost her youngest son), lay very ill, and his mind
was greatly troubled, because he loved her dearly.
Another of his daughters was married to LORD FALCONBERG,
another to the grandson of the Earl of Warwick, and
he had made his son RICHARD one of the Members of the
Upper House. He was very kind and loving to
them all, being a good father and a good husband;
but he loved this daughter the best of the family,
and went down to Hampton Court to see her, and could
hardly be induced to stir from her sick room until
she died. Although his religion had been of
a gloomy kind, his disposition had been always cheerful.
He had been fond of music in his home, and had kept
open table once a week for all officers of the army
not below the rank of captain, and had always preserved
in his house a quiet, sensible dignity. He encouraged
men of genius and learning, and loved to have them
about him. MILTON was one of his great friends.
He was good humoured too, with the nobility, whose
dresses and manners were very different from his; and
to show them what good information he had, he would
sometimes jokingly tell them when they were his guests,
where they had last drunk the health of the ’King
over the water,’ and would recommend them to
be more private (if they could) another time.
But he had lived in busy times, had borne the weight
of heavy State affairs, and had often gone in fear
of his life. He was ill of the gout and ague;
and when the death of his beloved child came upon
him in addition, he sank, never to raise his head again.
He told his physicians on the twenty-fourth of August
that the Lord had assured him that he was not to die
in that illness, and that he would certainly get better.
This was only his sick fancy, for on the third of
September, which was the anniversary of the great
battle of Worcester, and the day of the year which
he called his fortunate day, he died, in the sixtieth
year of his age. He had been delirious, and had
lain insensible some hours, but he had been overheard
to murmur a very good prayer the day before.
The whole country lamented his death. If you
want to know the real worth of Oliver Cromwell, and
his real services to his country, you can hardly do
better than compare England under him, with England
under CHARLES THE SECOND.
He had appointed his son Richard to
succeed him, and after there had been, at Somerset
House in the Strand, a lying in state more splendid
than sensible as all such vanities after
death are, I think Richard became Lord
Protector. He was an amiable country gentleman,
but had none of his father’s great genius, and
was quite unfit for such a post in such a storm of
parties. Richard’s Protectorate, which
only lasted a year and a half, is a history of quarrels
between the officers of the army and the Parliament,
and between the officers among themselves; and of a
growing discontent among the people, who had far too
many long sermons and far too few amusements, and
wanted a change. At last, General Monk got the
army well into his own hands, and then in pursuance
of a secret plan he seems to have entertained from
the time of Oliver’s death, declared for the
King’s cause. He did not do this openly;
but, in his place in the House of Commons, as one
of the members for Devonshire, strongly advocated
the proposals of one SIR JOHN GREENVILLE, who came
to the House with a letter from Charles, dated from
Breda, and with whom he had previously been in secret
communication. There had been plots and counterplots,
and a recall of the last members of the Long Parliament,
and an end of the Long Parliament, and risings of the
Royalists that were made too soon; and most men being
tired out, and there being no one to head the country
now great Oliver was dead, it was readily agreed to
welcome Charles Stuart. Some of the wiser and
better members said what was most true that
in the letter from Breda, he gave no real promise to
govern well, and that it would be best to make him
pledge himself beforehand as to what he should be
bound to do for the benefit of the kingdom.
Monk said, however, it would be all right when he came,
and he could not come too soon.
So, everybody found out all in a moment
that the country must be prosperous and happy,
having another Stuart to condescend to reign over
it; and there was a prodigious firing off of guns,
lighting of bonfires, ringing of bells, and throwing
up of caps. The people drank the King’s
health by thousands in the open streets, and everybody
rejoiced. Down came the Arms of the Commonwealth,
up went the Royal Arms instead, and out came the public
money. Fifty thousand pounds for the King, ten
thousand pounds for his brother the Duke of York, five
thousand pounds for his brother the Duke of Gloucester.
Prayers for these gracious Stuarts were put up in
all the churches; commissioners were sent to Holland
(which suddenly found out that Charles was a great
man, and that it loved him) to invite the King home;
Monk and the Kentish grandees went to Dover, to kneel
down before him as he landed. He kissed and embraced
Monk, made him ride in the coach with himself and his
brothers, came on to London amid wonderful shoutings,
and passed through the army at Blackheath on the twenty-ninth
of May (his birthday), in the year one thousand six
hundred and sixty. Greeted by splendid dinners
under tents, by flags and tapestry streaming from
all the houses, by delighted crowds in all the streets,
by troops of noblemen and gentlemen in rich dresses,
by City companies, train-bands, drummers, trumpeters,
the great Lord Mayor, and the majestic Aldermen, the
King went on to Whitehall. On entering it, he
commemorated his Restoration with the joke that it
really would seem to have been his own fault that
he had not come long ago, since everybody told him
that he had always wished for him with all his heart.