Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

This and other ordinances having been issued, his first Parliament meets. It cannot be said that our Puritan Protector does not rise to the full level of his position. One might describe him as something of a propagandist, disposed to teach his doctrine of _the rights of Christian men_ to the world at large. It is thus he opens his address:--"GENTLEMEN, You are met here on the greatest occasion that, I believe, England ever saw; having upon your shoulders the interests of three great nations, with the territories belonging to them: and truly I believe I may say it without any hyperbole, you have upon your shoulders _the interest of all the Christian people in the world_. And the expectation is, that I should let you know, as far as I have cognisance of it, the occasion of your assembling together at this time."

But this Parliament fell upon the discussion, as we have said, of the very instrument of government under which they had been called together. Mr Carlyle is as impatient as was Oliver himself at this proceeding of the "Talking apparatus." But how could it be otherwise? Every thing that had taken place since the dissolution of the Long Parliament was done by mere arbitrary authority. The present Parliament, however called together, must consider itself the only legitimate, the only constitutional power: it _must_ look into this instrument of government. But if it was impossible not to commence the discussion, it was equally impossible ever to conclude it. We all know to what length a debate will run upon a constitutional question; and here there was not one such question, but a whole constitution to be discussed. In vain they debated "from eight in the morning to eight at night, with an hour for refreshment about noon:" there was no probability of their ever coming to a conclusion.

This would never do. Oliver shuts up the Parliament-house, stations his musketeers at the door, calls the members to him, presents them with a parchment, "a little thing," to sign, acknowledging his authority, and tells them he will open the door of the House to such only as shall put their names to it. We will quote some parts of the speech he made to them on this occasion, and our readers shall judge whether such a speech, delivered by the living man Cromwell, was likely to fail in effect, whether it was deficient in meaning or in energy. We shall omit the parenthetical comments of the editor, because, however these may amuse and relieve the reader who is making his way through the whole work, and who becomes familiarised with their style, they would only confuse and distract the attention in a brief extract. The single words or phrases which he has introduced, merely to make the sense clear, are retained whenever they are really necessary for this purpose, and without the inverted commas by which they are properly distinguished in the text. We will premise, that the protestations which Cromwell here makes, that he did not seek the government, but was earnestly petitioned to undertake it, may well, in part, be true. When he had once dissolved the Long Parliament, it was no longer a matter of choice for himself or others whether he would take the reins of government. To whom could he commit them? From that time, the government rested upon his shoulders. If he had manifested a wish to withdraw from the burden he had thus brought down upon himself, there is no doubt but that he would have been earnestly petitioned to remain at his post. The greatest enemy of Cromwell, if he had been a lover of his country, would have joined in such a petition; would have besought him to remain at the helm, now he had thrown all other steersmen overboard. No; he must not quit it now. He is there for the rest of his life, to do battle with the waves, and navigate amongst rocks and quicksands as best he may.

Let us hear his own statement and defence of the manner in which he became advanced and "captive" to his high and perilous place.

"GENTLEMEN,--It is not long since I met you in this place, upon
an occasion which gave me much more content and comfort than
this doth. That which I have now to say to you will need no
preamble to let me into my discourse; for the occasion of this
meeting is plain enough. I could have wished, with all my
heart, there had been no cause for it.

"At our former meeting I did acquaint you what was the first
rise of this government which hath called you hither, and by
the authority of which you have come hither. Among other things
which I then told you of, I said you were a Free Parliament;
and so you are, whilst you own the government and authority
which called you hither. But certainly that word (Free
Parliament) implied a reciprocity, or it implied nothing at
all. Indeed, there was a reciprocity implied and expressed; and
I think your actions and carriages ought to be suitable. But I
see it will be necessary for me now a little to magnify my
office, which I have not been apt to do. I have been of this
mind, I have been always of this mind, since I first entered
upon my office. If God will not bear it up, let it sink!--but
if a duty be incumbent upon me, to bear my testimony to it,
(which in modesty I have hitherto forborne,) I am, in some
measure, necessitated thereunto: and therefore that will be the
prologue to my discourse.

"I called not myself to this place. I say again, I called not
myself to this place! Of that God is witness: and I have many
witnesses who, I do believe, could lay down their lives bearing
witness to the truth of that, namely, that I called not myself
to this place! And, being in it, I bear not witness to myself
or my office; but God and the people of these nations have also
borne testimony to it. If my calling be from God, and my
testimony from the people, _God and the people shall take it
from me, else I will not part with it!_ I should be false to
the trust that God hath placed in me, and to the interest of
the people of these nations if I did.

"I was by birth a gentleman; living neither in any considerable
height, nor yet in obscurity. I have been called to several
employments in the nation--to serve in Parliament and others;
and, not to be over-tedious, I did endeavour to discharge the
duty of an honest man, in those services, to God and his
people's interest, and to the Commonwealth; having, when time
was, a competent acceptation in the hearts of men, and some
evidences thereof. I resolve not to recite the times, and
occasions, and opportunities, which have been appointed me by
God to serve him in; nor the presence and blessing of God,
therein bearing testimony to me.

"Having had some occasion to see, together with my brethren and
countrymen, a happy period put to our sharp wars and contests
with the then common enemy, I hoped, in a private capacity, to
have reaped the fruit and benefit, together with my brethren,
of our hard labours and hazards: the enjoyment, to wit, of
peace and liberty, and the privileges of a Christian and a man,
in some equality with others, according as it should please the
Lord to dispense unto me. And when I say God had put an end to
our wars, or at least brought them to a very hopeful issue,
very near an end,--after Worcester fight,--I came up to London
to pay my service and duty to the Parliament which then sat,
hoping that all minds would have been disposed to answer what
seemed to be the mind of God, namely, to give peace and rest to
his people, and especially to those who had bled more than
others in the carrying on of the military affairs,--I was much
disappointed of my expectation. For the issue did not prove so.
_Whatever may be boasted or misrepresented, it was not so, not
so!_

"I can say in the simplicity of my soul, I love not, I love
not,--I declined it in my former speech,--I say, I love not to
rake into sores, or to discover nakednesses! The thing I drive
at is this: I say to you, I hoped to have had leave to retire
to a private life. I begged to be dismissed of my charge; I
begged it again and again; and God be judge between me and all
men if I lie in this matter! That I lie not in matter of fact,
is known to very many; but whether I tell a lie in my heart, as
labouring to represent to you what was not upon my heart, I say
the Lord be judge. Let uncharitable men, who measure others by
themselves, judge as they please. As to the matter of fact, I
say it is true. As to the ingenuity and integrity of my heart
in that desire--I do appeal, as before, upon the truth of that
also. But I could not obtain what my soul longed for. And the
plain truth is, I did afterwards apprehend some more of
opinion, (such the differences of their judgment from mine,)
that it could not well be.

"I confess I am in some strait to say what I could say, and
what is true, of what then followed. I pressed the Parliament,
as a member, to period themselves; once and again, and again,
and ten, nay twenty times over. I told them, for I knew it
better than any one man in the parliament could know it,
because of my manner of life, which had led me every where up
and down the nation, thereby giving me to see and know the
temper and spirits of all men, and of the best of men--that the
nation loathed their sitting. I knew it. And so far as I could
discern, when they _were_ dissolved, _there was not so much as
the barking of a dog_, or any general or visible repining at
it.

"And that there was high cause for their dissolution, is most
evident: not only in regard there was a just fear of that
parliament's perpetuating themselves, but because it actually
was their design. Had not their heels been trod upon by
importunities from abroad, even to threats, I believe there
never would have been any thoughts of rising, or of going out
of that room, to the world's end. I myself was sounded, and by
no mean persons tempted; and proposals were made me to that
very end: that the parliament might be thus perpetuated; that
the vacant places might be supplied by new elections, and so
continue from generation to generation."

He proceeds to object to the measure which the Parliament was really about to pass, that it would have established an uninterrupted succession of Parliaments, that there would have been "a legislative power always sitting," which would thereby have encroached upon the executive power. The speech then enlarges on the general assent of the people, of the army, of the judges, of the civic powers, to the instrument of government, to the Protectorate, and on the implied assent which they themselves had given by accepting their commissions under it.

"And this being so, though I told you in my last speech that
you were a free Parliament, yet I thought it was understood
withal that I was the Protector, and the authority that called
you! That I was in possession of the government by a good right
from God and man. And I believe, that if the learnedest men in
this nation were called to show a precedent equally clear of a
government so many ways approved of, they would not in all
their search find it. And if the fact be so, why should we
sport with it? With a business so serious!... For you to disown
or not to own it; for you to act with parliamentary authority
especially, in the disowning of it, contrary to the very
fundamental things, yea against the very root itself of this
establishment, to sit and not own the authority by which you
sit--is that which I believe astonisheth more men than myself;
and doth as dangerously disappoint and discompose the nation,
as any thing that could have been invented by the greatest
enemy to our peace and welfare."

After drawing the distinction between fundamentals, which may not be shaken, and circumstantials, which it is in the power of Parliament to alter and modify, he continues:--

"I would it had not been needful for me to call you hither to
expostulate these things with you, and in such a manner as
this! But necessity hath no law. Feigned necessities, imaginary
necessities, are the greatest cozenage which man can put upon
the providence of God, and make pretences to break known rules
by. But it is as legal, as carnal, and as stupid to think that
there are _no_ necessities which are manifest and real, because
necessities may be abused or feigned. I have to say, the wilful
throwing away of this government, such as it is, so owned by
God, so approved by men, so witnessed to, as was mentioned
above, were a thing which--and in reference to the good of
these nations and of posterity--_I can sooner be willing to be
rolled into my grave and buried with infamy, than I can give my
consent unto!_

"You have been called hither to save a nation--nations. You had
the best people, indeed, of the Christian world put into your
trust, when you came hither. You had the affairs of these
nations delivered over to you in peace and quiet; you were, and
we all are, put into an undisturbed possession, nobody making
title to us: Through the blessing of God, our enemies were
hopeless and scattered. We had peace at home; peace with almost
all our neighbours round about. To have our peace and interest,
whereof those were our hopes the other day, thus shaken, and
put under such a confusion; and ourselves rendered hereby
almost the scorn and contempt of those strangers who are
amongst us to negotiate their masters' affairs!... Who shall
answer for these things to God or to men? To men, to the people
who sent you hither? who looked for refreshment from you; who
looked for nothing but peace and quietness, and rest and
settlement? When we come to give an account to them, we shall
have it to say, 'Oh, we quarrelled for the _Liberty of
England_; we contested, and went to confusion for
that!--_Wherein, I pray you, for the Liberty of England?_ I
appeal to the Lord, that the desires and endeavours we have
had--nay, the things will speak for themselves,--the liberty of
England, the liberty of the people, the avoiding of tyrannous
impositions either upon men as men, or Christians as
Christians,--is made so safe by this act of settlement, that it
will speak for itself."

The Protector then tells them that, "seeing the authority which called them is so little valued and so much slighted, he had caused a stop to be put to their entrance into the Parliament-house," until a certain "somewhat," which would be found "in the lobby without the Parliament-door"--an adhesion to the government in its fundamentals--should be signed.

This extract, as will be readily supposed, would lead to a far too favourable opinion of Cromwell's oratory, if understood as a specimen of his usual manner of speaking; but our readers will probably confess, that they did not expect that the speeches of Cromwell would have yielded such an extract.

Oliver has, it will be observed, a singularly modest way of speaking of his political remedies and projects. In referring, on a later occasion, to his major-generals, he says, "Truly when that insurrection was, we did find out a _little poor invention_, which I hear has been much regretted. I say there was _a little thing_ invented, which was the erecting of your major-generals, to have a little inspection upon the people thus divided, thus discontented, thus dissatisfied." On the present occasion, the "somewhat which was to be found at the lobby of the Parliament-door," was, after a little demur, accepted and signed by all but a certain number of declared republicans. The parliament afterwards fell from the discussion of a whole constitution, to debates apparently as warm, and as endless, upon poor Biddle the Quaker, and other kindred subjects. Thus their allotted session of five months passed; at the end of which time Cromwell dissolved them.

"I do not know what you have been doing," he tells them in his speech on this occasion. "I do not know whether you have been alive or dead. I have not once heard from you all this time--I have not--and that you all know."

Cromwell's second parliament manifested a wiser industry, and a more harmonious temper--thanks to one of the Protector's "little inventions." Each member was to be provided with a certificate before entering the house; "but near one hundred honourable gentlemen can get no certificate--none provided for _them_--and without certificate there is no admittance. Soldiers stand ranked at the door; no man enters without his certificate!" The stiff republicans, and known turbalent persons, are excluded. From this Parliament Cromwell accepts again the title of Protector, and is installed with great state; things take a more legal aspect; the major-generals are suppressed; a House of Lords is instituted; and a settlement of the nation seems at last effected.

But the second session of this Parliament relapsed again into a restive and republican humour. The excluded members had been admitted, and debates arose about this "other house," as they were disposed to nominate the Lords. So much confusion resulted in the country from this unsettled state of the representative assembly, and so many insurrectionary designs were fostered by it, that the Protector was compelled abruptly to dissolve the Parliament. He tells them:--

"That which brought me into the capacity I now stand in, was
the petition and advice given me by you, who, in reference to
the ancient constitution, did draw me to accept the place of
Protector. _There is not a man living can say I sought it; no,
not a man nor a woman treading upon English ground._ But,
contemplating the sad condition of these nations, relieved from
an intestine war into a six or seven years' peace, I did think
the nation happy therein. But to be petitioned thereunto, and
to be advised by you to undertake such a government, a burden
too heavy for any creature--and this to be done by the House
which then had the legislative capacity--certainly I did look
that the same men who made the frame, should make it good unto
me. _I can say, in the presence of God, in comparison with whom
we are but like poor creeping ants upon the earth, I would have
been glad to have lived under any woodside, to have kept a
flock of sheep, rather then have undertaken such a government
as this._ But, undertaking it by the advice and petition of
you, I did look that you who had offered it unto me, should
make it good."

He concludes thus:--

"It hath been not only your endeavour to pervert the army while
you have been sitting, and to draw them to state the question
about a 'Commonwealth;' but some of you have been listing of
persons, by commission of Charles Stuart, to join with any
insurrection that may be made. And what is like to come upon
this, the enemy being ready to invade us, but even present
blood and confusion? And if this be so, I do assign it to this
cause--your not assenting to what you did invite me to by your
petition and advice, as that which might prove the settlement
of the nation. And if this be the end of your sitting, and this
be your carriage, I think it high time that an end be put to
your sitting. And I do dissolve this Parliament! And let God be
judge between you and me!"

It is at this latter period of his career that the character of Cromwell, to our apprehension, stands out to greatest advantage, becomes more grave, and solemn, and estimable. Other dictators, other men of ambitious aims and fortunes, show themselves, for the most part, less amiable, more tyrannous than ever, more violent and selfish, when they have obtained the last reward of all their striving, and possessed themselves of the seat of power. It was otherwise with Cromwell. He became more moderate, his views more expanded, his temper milder and more pensive. The stormy passions of the civil war were overblown, the intricate and ambiguous passages of his political course had been left behind; and _now_, whatever may have been the errors of the past, and however his own ambition or rashness may have led him to it, he occupied a position which he might say with truth he held for his country's good. Forsake it he could not. Repose in it he could not. A man of religious breeding, of strong conscientiousness, though tainted with superstition, he could not but feel the great responsibility of that position. A vulgar usurper is found at this era of his career to sink into the voluptuary, or else to vent his dissatisfied humour in acts of cruelty and oppression. Cromwell must govern, and govern to his best. The restless and ardent spirit that had ever prompted him onwards and upwards, and which had carried him to that high place, was now upon the wane. It had borne him to that giddy pinnacle, and threatened to leave him there. Men were now aiming at his life; the assassin was abroad; one-half the world was execrating him; we doubt not that he spoke with sincerity when he said, that "he would gladly live under any woodside, and keep a flock of sheep." He would gladly lay down his burden, but he cannot; can lay it down only in the grave. The sere and yellow leaf is falling on the shelterless head of the royal Puritan. The asperity of his earlier character is gone, the acrimony of many of his prejudices has, in his long and wide intercourse with mankind, abated; his great duties have taught him moderation of many kinds; there remains of the fiery sectarian, who so hastily "turned the buckle of his girdle behind him," little more than his firmness and conscientiousness: his firmness that, as he truly said, "could be bold with men;" his conscientiousness, which made the power he attained by that boldness, a burden and a heavy responsibility.

"We have not been now four years and upwards in this government," says the Protector, in one of his speeches, "to be totally ignorant of what things may be of the greatest concernment to us." No; this man has not been an idle scholar. Since the Lord General took the reins of civil government, and became Lord Protector, he has thought and learned much of statemanship. But as a statesman, he is still first of all the Puritan. It is worth while to observe how his foreign policy, which has been justly admired, took its turn and direction from his religious feelings. He made alliances with the Protestant powers of the north, and assumed a firm attitude of hostility towards Spain--and reasons of state may have had some sway in determining him to these measures; but his great motive for hostility with Spain was, that she stood "at the head of the antichristian interest"--"was described in the Scriptures to be papal and antichristian."

"Why, truly your great enemy is the Spaniard. He is a natural enemy. He is naturally so throughout, by reason of that enmity that is in him against whatever is of God.... Your enemy, as I tell you, naturally, by that antipathy which is in him,--and also providentially, (that is, by special ordering of Providence.) An enmity is put in him by God. 'I will put an enmity between thy seed and her seed,' which goes but for little among statesmen, but is more considerable than all things. And he that considers not such natural enmity, the _providential_ enmity as well as the _accidental_, I think he is not well acquainted with the Scripture, and the things of God,"--(_Speech_ 5.)

In fine, we see in Cromwell, every where and throughout, the genuine, fervid Puritan--the Puritan general, the Puritan statesman. He was a man, and, therefore, doubtless ambitious; he rose through a scene of civil as well as military contest, and, doubtless, was not unacquainted with dissimulation; but if we would describe him briefly, it is as the GREAT PURITAN that he must, ever be remembered in history.

In parting company with the editor of these letters and speeches, we feel that we have not done justice to the editorial industry and research which these volumes display. Our space would not permit it. For the same reason we have been unable to quote several instances of vivid narrative, which we had hoped to transfer to our own pages. And as to our main quarrel with him--this outrageous adoption of Puritanical bile and superstition,--we have been haunted all along by a suspicion we have occasionally expressed, that the man _cannot_ be in earnest. He could not have been so abandoned by his common sense. He has been so accustomed to mingle sport, and buffoonery, and all sorts of wilful extravagance, with his most serious mood, that he perhaps does not know himself when, and how far, he is in earnest. In turning over the leaves of his work, we light, towards the end of the second volume, upon the following passage, which may, _perhaps_, explain the temper of the writer, when he is abetting and encouraging his fanatical heroes. He is uttering some sarcasms upon the poor "art of speech."

"Is there no sacredness, then, any longer in the miraculous tongue of man? Is his head become a wretched cracked pitcher, on which you jingle to frighten crows, and makes bees hive? He fills me with terror, this two-legged rhetorical phantasm! I could long for an Oliver without rhetoric at all. I could long for a Mahomet, whose persuasive eloquence, with wild-flashing heart and scimiter, is, 'Wretched moral, give up that; or by the Eternal, thy maker and mine, I will kill thee! Thou blasphemous scandalous misbirth of Nature, is not even _that_ the kindest thing I can do for thee, if thou repent not, and alter in the name of Allah?'"

To this sort of satirical humour--to "the truth of a song,"--not Dryasdust himself would call upon him to swear. And may not all his rhapsodies upon his "sword-in-hand" Puritans be little more than an amplification of this one passage? And, if we insist upon it, that a reform by the pen, or even by speech-making, is better than one by pike and musket--if we should suggest that matters of civil government are better decided by civil and political reasoning than by metaphorical texts of Scripture, interpreted by prejudice and passion--if we contend for such truisms as these, shall we not be in danger of occupying some such position as the worthy prelate whose sagacity led him to discover that _some facts_ in Gulliver's Travels had surely been overcharged?

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _Oliver Cromwell's Letters and Speeches, with Elucidations by Thomas Carlyle._

[2] Take the following instance from the early and more moderate times of the Revolution, and wherein the most staid and sober of this class of people is concerned. When Essex left London to march against the king, then at Oxford, he requested the assembly of divines to keep a fast for his success. Baillie informs us how it was celebrated. "We spent from nine to five graciously. After Dr Twisse had begun with a brief prayer, Mr Marshall prayed large two hours, most divinely confessing the sins of the members of the assembly in a wonderful, pathetic, and prudent way. After Mr Arrowsmith preached an hour, then a psalm; thereafter Mr Vines prayed near two hours, and Mr Palmer preached an hour, and Mr. Seaman prayed near two hours, then a psalm; after Mr Henderson brought them to a sweet conference of the heat confessed in the assembly, and other seen faults to be remedied, and the conveniency to preach against all sects, especially anabaptists and antinomians. Dr Twisse closed with a short prayer and blessing. God was so evidently in all this exercise that we expect certainly a blessing."--_Baillie_, quoted from _Lingard_.

LAYS AND LEGENDS OF THE THAMES.