Chapter XI: Part 11

Parliament next charged Archbishop Laud (S435) with attempting to overthrow the Protestant religion. It condemned him to prison, and ultimately to death. Next, it abolished the Star Chamber and the High Commission Court (S435). It next passed the Triennial Act,[1] a bill requiring Parliament to be summoned once in three years, and also a statute forbidding the collection of "ship money" unless authorized by Parliament.

[1] The Triennial Act was repealed (in form only) in 1664; it was reenacted in 1694; in 1716 it was superseded by the Septennial Act (S535).

Under the leadership of Pym, it followed this by drawing up the "Grand Remonstrance,"[2] which was printed and circulated throughout the country. The "Remonstrance" set forth the faults of the King's government, while it declared utter distrust of his policy. Cromwell did not hesitate to say that if the House of Commons had failed to adopt and print the "Remonstrance," he would have left England never to return. The radicals in the House next made an ineffectual attempt to pass the "Root and Branch Bill," for the complete destruction-- "root and branch"--of the Established Church of England. Finally, the House enacted a law forbidding the dissolution of the present Parliament except by its own consent.

[2] See Summary of Constitutional History in the Appendix, p. xvii, S19.

440. The King attempts to arrest Five Members (1642).

The parliamentary leaders had entered into communication with the Scots and so laid themselves open to a charge of treason. It was rumored, too, that they were about to take a still bolder step and impeach the Queen for having conspired with the Catholics and the Irish to destroy the liberties of the country. No one knew better than Charles how strong a case could be made out against his frivolous and unprincipled consort.

Driven to extremities, Charles determined to seize the five members, John Pym, John Hampden (SS432, 436), and three others, who headed the opposition.[3] The King commanded the House of Commons to give them up for trial. The request was not complied with and the Queen urged Charles to take them by force, saying, "Go along, you coward, and pull those rascals out by the ears!" Thus taunted, the King went on the next day to the House of Parliament with a company of soldiers to seize the members. They had been forewarned, and had left the House, taking refuse in the "city," which showed itself then, as always, on the side of liberty (S34, note 1). Leaving his soldiers at the door, the King entered the House of Commons. Seeing that the five members were absent, the King turned to the Speaker and asked where they were. The Speaker, kneeling before the King, answered, "May it please your Majesty, I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak in this place but as this House is pleased to direct me." Vexed that he could learn nothing further, Charles left the hall amid ominous cries of "Privilege! privilege!"[1]

[3] The full list was Hampden, Pym, Hollis, Haselrig, and Strode, to which a sixth, Mandeville, was added later. Copley's fine painting of the "Attempted Arrest" is in the Boston Public Library.[1] Privilege: the privilege of Parliament to debate all questions exempt from royal interference.

441. The Great Civil War, 1642-1649, between the King and Parliament.

The King, baffled in his purpose, resolved to coerce Parliament by military force. He left London in 1642, never to return until he came as a prisoner, and was delivered into the custody of that legislative body that he had insulted and defied. Parliament now attempted to come to an understanding with the King.

There was then no standing army in England, but each county and large town had a body of militia, formed of citizens who were occasionally mustered for drill. This militia was under the control of the King. Parliament insisted on his resigning that control to them. Charles refused to give up his undoubted constitutional right in the matter, and raised the royal flag at Nottingham, August, 1642. Parliament then organized an army of its own, and the war began.

442. Cavaliers and Roundheads.

It opened in the autumn of that year (1642) with the battle of Edgehill, Warwickshire, and was at first favorable to the King. On his side were a majority of the nobility, the clergy and the country gentlemen. They were mainly members of the Church of England and were known collectively as Cavaliers, from their dashing and daring horsemanship. Their leader was Prince Rupert, a nephew of Charles.[1]

[1] See "A charge with Prince Rupert," _Atlantic Monthly_, III, 725.

On the side of Parliament were the shopkeepers, small farmers and landowners, with a considerable number of men of high rank; as a rule they were Puritans (S378). The King's party nicknamed them "Roundheads," because, despising the long locks and effeminate ringlets worn by the Cavaliers, they cut their hair short so that it showed the shape of the head.[2] Essex and Fairfax were the first leaders of the "Roundheads"; later, Cromwell became their commander.

[2] "Those roundheaded dogs that bawled against bishops," said the Cavaliers.

443. How the Country was divided; Rise of Political Newspapers.

Taking England as a whole, we may say that the southeastern half, that is, what was then the richest part of England, with London and most of the other large towns, was against the King, and that the southwestern half, with most of the North, was for him. (See map opposite.) Each side made great sacrifices in carrying on the war. The Queen sold her crown jewels, and the Cavaliers melted down their silver plate to provide money to pay the King's troops.

On behalf of the People's army Parliament imposed heavy taxes, and levied now for the first time a duty on domestic products, especially on ales and liquors, known as the "Excise Tax." Furthermore, it required each household to fast once a week, and to give the price of a dinner to support the soldiers who were fighting against the King.

Parliament also passed what was called the "Self-denying Ordinance" (1644) (repeated in 1645). It required all members who had any civil or military office to resign, and, as Cromwell seaid, "deny themselves and their private interests for the public good." The real object of this measure was to get rid of incompetent commanders, and give the People's army (soon to be remodeled) the vigorous men that the times demanded.

With the outbreak of the war great numbers of little local newspapers sprang into short-lived existence in imitation of the first publication of that sort, the _Weekly News_, which was issued not quite twenty years before in the reign of James I (S422). Each of the rival armies, it is said, carried a printing press with it, and waged furious battles in type against the other. The whole country was inundated with floods of pamphlets discussing every conceivable religious and political question.

444. The "New Model"; Death of John Hampden; the Solemn League and Covenant (1642-1645).

At the first battle fought, at Edgehill, Warwickshire (1642), Cromwell saw that the Cavaliers (S442) had the advantage, and told John Hampden (SS436, 440) that "a set of poor tapsters [drawers of liquor] and town apprentices would never fight against men of honor." He forthwith proceeded to organize his regiment of "Ironsides," a "lovely company," he said, none of whom swore or gambled.

After the first Self-denying Ordinance was passed (S443), Cromwell and Fairfax formed a new People's army of "God-fearing men" on the same pattern, almost all of whom were Independents (S439). This was called the "New Model" (1645) and was placed under the joint command of the men who organized it. Very many of its officers were kinsmen of Cromwell's, and it speedily became the most formidable body of soldiers of its size in the world,--always ready to preach, pray, exhort, or fight.[1]

[1] "The common soldiers, as well as the officers, did not only pray and preach among themselves, but went up into the pulpits in all churches and preached to the people."--Clarendon, "History of the Rebellion," Book X, 79.

Meanwhile John Hampden (SS436, 440) had been mortally wounded in a skirmish at Chalgrove Field, Oxfordshire. His death was a terrible blow to the parliamentary army fighting in behalf of the rights of the people.[2]

[2] See Macaulay's "Essay on Hampden." Clarendon says that Hampden's death produced as great consternation in his party "as if their whole army had been cut off."

Parliament endeavored to persuade the Scotch to give their aid in the war against the King. The latter finally agreed to do so (1643) on condition that Parliament would sign the Solemn League and Covenant (S438). Parliament signed it, and so made the Scotch Presbyterian worship the state religion of England and Ireland (1647). In reality only a small part of the English people accepted it; but the charge forced a large number of Episcopal clergymen to leave their parishes.

445. Marston Moor and Naseby, 1644, 1645.

On the field of Marston Moor, Yorkshire, 1644, the north of England was conquered by Cromwell with his invincible little army. The following year Cromwell's "Ironsides," who "trusted in God and kept their powder dry," gained the decisive victory of Naseby, 1645, in the Midlands. (See map facing p. 252.) After the fight papers belonging to the King were picked up on the battlefield. They proved that Charles intended betraying those who were negotiating with him for peace, and that he was planning to bring foreign troops to England. The discovery of these papers, which were published by Parliament, was more damaging to the royal cause than the defeat itself.

446. The King and Parliament.

Standing on the walls of the ancient city of Chester, Charles saw his last army utterly routed (1645). Shortly afterwards he fled to the Scots. Oxford, the King's chief city in the Midlands, surrendered to Fairfax (1646). The first civil war was now practically over. The Scots gave up the King (1647) to the parliamentary commissioners, and he was taken to Holmby House, Northamptonshire. There Cromwell and the army made overtures to him, but without effect. He was then brought by the Parliamentary or People's army to Hampton Court, near London.

Here, and elsewhere, the army again attempted to come to some definite understanding with the King, but all to no purpose. Politically speaking, Charles was his own worst enemy. He was false to the core, and, as Carlyle has said: "A man whose word will not inform you at all what he means, or will do, is not a man you can bargain with. You must get out of that man's way, or put him out of yours."

447. The Second Civil War (1648); Pride's Purge (1648); the "Rump Parliament."

After two years spent in fruitless negotiations, Charles, who had fled to Carisbrooke Castle in the Isle of Wight, made a secret treaty with the Scots (1648), promising to sanction the establishment of the Scotch Presbyterian Church in England (S444), if they would send an army into the country to restore him to the throne.[1]

[1] When Cromwell found out that Charles had resolved to destroy him and the Independent army, he apparently made up his mind to put the King to death. See Lord Broghill's story in S. R. Gardiner's "History of the Great Civil War," III, 259.

The Scots marched into England, the Royalists rose to aid them, and the second civil war began. It speedily ended in the utter defeat of the King's forces. The People's army now vowed that they would bring the King to justice. To this neither the Presbyterians in the House of Commons nor the members of the House of Lords would agree.

Colonel Pride then proceeded (1648), as he said, to purge the "Long Parliament" (S439) by driving out all who were opposed to this measure. Cromwell had no part in Pride's expulsion of members, though he afterwards expressed his approval of it. Those who remained were a small body of Independents only (SS422, 439). They did not number sixty; they became the mere tool of the Parliamentary or People's army and were called in derision the "Rump Parliament."

448. Execution of King Charles, 1649.

This so-called "Rump Parliament" named one hundred and thiry-five persons to constitute a high court of justice to try the King on a charge of treason against the nation; the chief judge or presiding officer was John Bradshaw. Less than half of these judges were present throughout the trial. Of those who signed the death warrant Oliver Cromwell was one. Prince Charles, the King's son, then a refugee in France, made every effort to save his father. He sent a blank paper, bearing his signature and seal, to the judges, offering to bind himself to any conditions they might insert, provided they would spare his father's life; but no answer was returned.

The King was brought into court in Westminster Hall, London; a week later the trial was over. The judges pronounced sentence of death on "Charles Stuart, King of England," as a "tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public enemy."

Throughout the trial Charles bore himself with dignity and self-possession. The crisis had brought out the best elements of his nature. He was beheaded January 30, 1649, in London in front of the royal palace of Whitehall. "A great shudder ran through the crowd that saw the deed, then came a shriek, and all immediately dispersed." Tradition declares that Cromwell went secretly that night to see the beheaded corpse. He looked steadfastly at it, shook his head, sighed out the words "Cruel necessity!" and departed.[1]

[1] S. R. Gardiner's "Great Civil War," III, 604; and see in Delaroche's works the picture of Cromwell looking at the King's corpse.

449. Summary.

The whole of Charles I's reign must be regarded as a prolonged struggle between the King and the nation. Under the Tudors and James I the royal power had been growing more and more despotic, while at the same time the progress of the Protestant Reformation and of Puritanism had encouraged freedom of thought.

Between these opposite forces a collision was inevitable, since religious liberty always favors political liberty. Had Charles known how to yield in time, or been sincere in the concessions which he did make, all might have gone well. His duplicity was his ruin. Though his death did not absolutely destroy the theory of the Divine Right of Kings, yet it gave it a blow from which it never recovered.

The Commonwealth and Protectorate--1649-1660

450. Establishment of the Commonwealth, or Republic, 1649.

While the crowd that had witnessed the execution of Charles I was leaving the spot (S448), the remnant of the House of Commons met. This "Rump Parliament" (S447), composed of only about fifty members, claimed the right to act for the whole nation. A few days later it abolished the House of Lords as "useless and dangerous." Next, for similar reasons, it abolished the office of king, and declared that "The People are, under God, the origin of all just power."

England was now a commonwealth or republic, governed, in name at least, by a Council of State. Of this Council John Bradshaw (S448) was president, and the poet Milton was foreign secretary, while General Fairfax with Oliver Cromwell had command of the army. The real power was in the army, and the true head of the army was Cromwell. Without him the so-called republic could not have stood a day.

451. Radical Changes.

All members of the House of Commons, with those who held any civil or military office, were required to swear allegiance to the Commonwealth "without King, or House of Lords." The use of the English church service was forbidden, and the statues of Charles I in London were pulled down and demolished.

The Great Seal of England (S145) had already been cast aside, and a new one adopted, having on one side a map of England and Ireland, on the other a representation of the House of Commons in session, with the words, "In the first year of freedom, by God's blessing restored 1648."[1]

[1] 1648 Old Style would here correspond to 1649 New Style. (See S545, note 2.)

452. Difficulties of the New Republic.

Shortly after the establishment of the Commonwealth, General Fairfax (S442) resigned his command, and Cromwell became the sole leader of the military forces of the country. But the new government, even with his aid, had no easy task before it.

It had enemies in the Royalists, who, since the King's execution, had grown stronger; in the Presbyterians, who hated both the "Rump Parliament" (S450) and the Parliamentary army; finally, it had enemies in its own ranks, for there were half-crazy fanatics. "Levelers,"[1] "Come-outers,"[2] and other "cattle and creeping things," who would be satisfied with nothing but destruction and confusion.

[1] "Levelers": a name given to certain radical republicans who wished to reduce all ranks and classes to the same level with respect to political power and privileges. [2] "Come-outers": those who abandoned all established ways in government and religion.

Among these there were socialists, or communists, who, like those of the present day, wished to abolish private property, and establish "an equal division of unequal earnings," while others declared and acted out their belief in the coming end of the world. Eventually Cromwell had to deal with these crack-brained enthusiasts in a decided way, especially as some of them threatened to assassinate him in order to hasten the advent of the personal reign of Christ and his saints on earth.

453. The Late King's Son proclaimed King in Ireland and Scotland; Dunbar; Worcester (1649-1651).

An attempt of the English Puritan party (S378) to root out Catholicism in Ireland (1641) had caused a horrible insurrection. The Royalist party in Ireland now proclaimed Prince Charles, son of the late Charles I, King. Parliament deputed Cromwell to reduce that country to order, and to destroy the Royalists. Nothing could have been more congenial to his "Ironsides" (S445) than such a crusade. They descended upon the unhappy island (1649), and wiped out the rebellion in such a whirlwind of fire and slaughter that the horror of the visitation has never been forgotten. To this day the direst imprecation a southern Irishman can utter is, "The curse of Cromwell on ye!"[3]

[3] At Drogheda and Wexford, Cromwell, acting in accordance with the laws of war of that day, massacred the garrisons that refused to surrender.

Several years later (1653-1654), Cromwell determined to put in practice a still more drastic policy. He resolved to repeople a very large section of southern Ireland by driving out the Roman Catholic inhabitants and giving their lands to English and Scotch Protestants. It seemed to him the only effectual way of overcoming the resistance which that island made to English rule. By the use of military power, backed up by an Act of Parliament, his generals forced the people to leave their houses and emigrate to the province of Connaught on the west coast. Part of that district was so barren and desolate that it was said, "it had not water enough to drown a man, trees enough to hang him, or earth enough to bury him." Thousands were compelled to go into this dreary exile, and hundreds of families who refused were shipped to the West Indies and sold to the planters as slaves for a term of years,--a thing often done in that day with prisoners of war.

In Scotland also Prince Charles was looked upon as the legitimate sovereign by a strong and influential party. He found in the brave Montrose,[1] who was hanged for treason at Edinburgh, and in other loyal supporters far better friends than he deserved. The Prince came to Scotland (1650); while there, he was crowned and took the oath of the Covenant (S438). It must have been a bitter pill for a man of his free and easy temperament. But worse was to come, for the Scottish Puritans made him sign a paper declaring that his father had been a tyrant and that his mother was an idolater. No wonder the caricatures of the day represented the Scots as holding the Prince's nose to a grindstone. Later, Prince Charles rallied a small force to fight for him, but it was utterly defeated at Dunbar (1650).

[1] See "The Execution of Montrose," in Aytoun's "Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers." Prince Charles basely abandoned Montrose to his fate.

Twelve months afterward, on the anniversary of his defeat at Dunbar, the Prince made a second attempt to obtain the crown. At the battle of Worcester Cromwell again routed his forces and brought the war to an end. Charles escaped in Shropshire, where he hid for a day in an oak at Boscobel. After many narrow escapes he at length succeeded in getting out of the country.

454. Cromwell expels Parliament.

Cromwell now urged the necessity of dissolving the "Rump Parliament" (S450) and of electing a Parliament which should really represent the nation, reform the laws, and pass a general act of pardon. In his despatch to the House of Commons after the victory of Worcester, he called the battle a "crowning mercy." Some of the republicans in that body took alarm at this phrase, and thought that Cromwell used it to foreshadow a design to place the crown on his own head. For this reason, perhaps, they hesitated to dissolve.

But at last they could not withstand the pressure, and a bill was introduced (1653) for summoning a new Parliament of four hundred members, but with the provision that all members of the present House were to keep their seats, and have the right to reject newly elected members.

Cromwell, with the army, believed this provision a trick on the part of the "Rump" (S450) to keep themselves in perpetual power.

Sir Harry Vane, who was a leading member of the House of Commons, and who had been governor of the colony of Massachusetts, feared that the country was in danger of falling into the hands of Cromwell as military dictator. He therefore urged the immediate passage of the bill as it stood. Cromwell heard that a vote was about to be taken. Putting himself at the head of a squad of soldiers, he suddenly entered the House (1653). After listening to the debate for some time, he rose from his seat and charged the Commons with injustice and misgovernment. A member remonstrated. Cromwell grew excited, saying: "You are no Parliament! I say you are no Parliament!" Then he called in the musketeers. They dragged the Speaker from his chair, and drove the members after him.

As they passed out, Cromwell shouted "drunkard," "glutton," "extortioner," with other opprobrious names. When all were gone, he locked the door and put the key in his pocket. During the night some Royalist wag nailed a placard on the door, bearing the inscription in large letters, "The House to let, unfurnished!"

455. Cromwell becomes Protector; the "Instrument of Government" (1653).

Cromwell summoned a new Parliament, which was practically of his own choosing. It consisted of one hundred and thirty-nine members, and was known as the "Little Parliament."[1] The Royalists nicknamed it "Barebone's Parliament" from one of its members, a London leather dealer named Praise-God Barebone. Notwithstanding the irregularity of its organization and the ridicule cast upon it, the "Barebone's Parliament" proposed several reforms of great value, which the country afterwards adopted.

[1] A regularly summoned Parliament, elected by the people, would have been much larger. This one was chosen from a list furnished by the ministers of the various Independent churches (S422). It was in no true sense a representative body.

A council of Cromwell's leading men now secured the adoption of a constitution entitled the "Instrument of Government."[1] It made Cromwell Lord Protector of England, Ireland, and Scotland.

[1] "Instrument of Government": The principal provisions of this constitution were: (1) the government was vested in the Protector and a council appointed for life; (2) Parliament, consisting of the House of Commons only, was to be summoned every three years, and not to be dissolved under five months; (3) a standing army of thirty thousand was to be maintained; (4) all taxes were to be levied by Parliament; (5) the system of representation was reformed, so that many large places hitherto without representation in Parliament now obtained it; (6) all Roman Catholics, and those concerned in the Irish rebellion, were disfranchised forever.

Up to this time the Commonwealth had been a republic, nominally under the control of the House of Commons, but as a matter of facct governed by Cromwell and the army. Now it became a republic under a Protector, or President, whowas to hold his office for life.

A few years later (1657), Parliament offered the title of King to Cromwell, and with it a new constitution called the "Humble Petition and Advice." The new constitution provided that Parliament should consist of two houses, since the majority of influential men felt the need of the restoration of the Lords (S450). For, said a member of "Barebone's Parliament," "the nation has been hopping on one leg" altogether too long. Cromwell had the same feeling, and endeavored to put an end to the "hopping" by trying to restore the House of Lords, but he could not get the Peers to meet. He accepted the new constitution, but the army objected to his wearing the crown, so he simply remained Lord Protector.

456. Emigration of Royalists to America.

Under the tyranny of the Stuart Kings, John Winthrop and many other noted Puritans had emigrated to Massachusetts and other parts of New England. During the Commonwealth the case was reversed, and numbers of Royalists fled to Virginia. Among them were John Washington, the great-grandfather of George Washington, and the ancestors of Jefferson, Patrick Henry, the Lees, Randolphs, and other prominent families, destined in time to take part in founding a republic in the New World much more democractic than anything the Old World had ever seen.

457. Cromwell as a Ruler; Puritan Fanaticism.

When Cromwell's new Parliament (S455) ventured to criticize his course, he dissolved it (1654) quite as peremptorily as the late King had done (S431). Soon afterwards, fear of a Royalist rebellion led him to divide the country into eleven military districts (1655), each governed by a major general, who ruled by martial law and with despotic power. All Royalist families were heavily taxed to support Cromwell's standing army, all Catholic priests wre banished, and no books or papers could be published without permission of the government.

Cromwell, however, though compelled to resort to severe measures to secure peace, was, in spirit, no oppressor. On the contrary, he proved himself the Protector not only of the realm but of the Protestants of Europe. When they were threatened with persecution, his influence saved them. He showed, too, that in an age of bigotry he was no bigot. Puritan fanaticism, exasperated by the persecution it had endured under James and Charles, often went to the utmost extremes, even as "Hudibras"[1] said, to "killing of a cat on Monday for catching of a rat on Sunday."

[1] "Hudibras": a burlesque poem by Samuel Butler (1663). It satirized the leading persons and parties of the Commonwealth, but especially the Puritans.

It treated the most innocent customs, if they were in any way associated with Catholicism or Episcopacy, as serious offenses. It closed all places of amusement; it condemned mirth as ungodly; it made it a sin to dance round a Maypole, or to eat mince pie at Christmas. Fox-hunting and horse-racing were forbidden, and bear-baiting prohibited, "not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators."

In such an age, when a man could hardly claim to be religious unless he wore sad-colored raiment, talked through his nose, and quoted Scripture with great frequency, Cromwell showed exceptional moderation and good sense.

458. Cromwell's Religious Toleration.

He favored the toleration of all forms of worship not directly opposed to the government as then constituted. He befriended the Quakers, who were looked upon as the enemies of every form of worship, and who were treated with cruel severity both in England and America. He was instrumental in sending the first Protestant missionaries to Massachusetts to convert the Indiands, then supposed by many to be a remnant of the lost tribes of Israel; and after an exclusion of many centuries (S222), he permitted the Jews to return to England, and even to build a synagogue in London.

On the other hand, there are few of the cathedral or parish churches of England which do not continue to testify to the Puritan army's destructive hatred of everything savoring of the rule of either Pope or bishop.[1] The empty niches, where some gracious image of the Virgin or the figure of some saint once looked down; the patched remnants of brilliant stained glass, once part of a picture telling some Scripture story; the mutilated statues of noted men; the tombs, hacked and hewed by pike and sword, because they bore some emblem or expression of the old faith,--all these still bear witness to the fury of the Puritan soldiers, who did not respect even the graves of their ancestors, if those ancestors had once thought differently from themselves.

[1] But part of this destruction occurred under Henry VIII and Edward VI (SS352, 364)

459. Victories by Land and Sea; the Navigation Act (1651).

Yet during Cromwell's rule the country, notwithstanding all the restrictions imposed by a stern military government, grew and prospered. The English forces gained victories by land and sea, and made the name of the Protector respected as that of Charles I had never been.

At this period the carrying trade of the world, by sea, had fallen into the hands of the Dutch, and Amsterdam had become a more important center of exchange than London. The Commonwealth passed a measure called the "Navigation Act"[2] (1651) to encourage British commerce. It prohibited the importation or exportation of any goods into England or its colonies in Dutch or other foreign vessels.

[2] The Navigation Act was renewed later. Though aimed at the Dutch, this measure damaged the export trade of the American colonies for a time.

Later, war with the Dutch broke out partly on account of questions of trade, and partly because Royalist plotters found protection in Holland. Then Cromwell created such a navy as the country had never before possessed. Under the command of Admiral Blake, "the sea king," and Admiral Monk, the Dutch were finally beaten so thoroughly (1653) that they bound themselves to ever after salute the English flag wherever they should meet it on the seas. A war undertaken in alliance with France against Spain was equally successful. Jamaica was taken as a permanent possession by the British fleet, and France, in return for Cromwell's assistance, reluctantly gave the town of Dunkirk to England (1658), and the flag of the English Commonwealth was planted on the French coast. But a few years later (1662), the selfish and profligate Charles II sold Dunkirk back to Louis XIV in order to get money to waste on his pleasures.

460. Cromwell's Death; his Character (1658).

After being King in everything but name for five years, Cromwell died (September 3, 1658) on the anniversary of the victories of Dunbar and Worcester (S453). During the latter part of his career he had lived in constant dread of assassination, and wore concealed armor. At the hour of his death one of the most fearful storms was raging hat had ever swept over England. To many it seemed a fit accompaniment to the close of such a life.

In one sense, Cromwell was a usurper and a tyrant; but, at heart, his object was his country's welfare. In such cases the motive is all in all. He was a lonely man of rough exterior and hard manner.[1] He cared little for the smooth proprieties of life, yet he had that dignity of bearing which high moral purpose gives. In all that he did he was eminently practical. In an age of isms, theories, and experiments, he was never confused and never faltered in his course. To-day a colossal bronze statue of the great soldier and ruler stands in the shadow of the Houses of Parliament, where the English people, more than two hundred and forty years after his burial, voted to erect it.

[1] Cromwell was always a lonely man, and had so few real friends that Walter Scott may have expressed his true feeling when he makes him say in his novel of "Woodstock": "I would _I_ had any creature, were it but a dog, that followed me because it loved me, not for what it could make of me."

461. The Times needed Such a Man.

There are emergencies when an ounce of decision is worth a pound of deliberation. When the ship is foundering or on fire, or when the crew have mutinied, it will not avail to sit in the cabin and discuss how it happened. Something must be done, and that promptly. Cromwell was the man for such a juncture. He saw clearly that if the country was to be kept together, it must be by decided measures, which no precedent, law, or constitution justified, but which stood justified none the less by exigencies of the crisis, by his own conscious rectitude of purpose, and by the result.

If there is any truth in Napoleon's maxim, that "The tools belong to him that can use them," then Cromwell had a God-given right to rule; for, first, he had the ability; and, next, though he used his power in his campaign in Ireland (S453) with merciless severity, yet the great purpose of his life was to establish order and justice on what seemed to him the only practical basis.

462. Summary.

Cromwell's original object appears to have been to organize a government representing the will of the nation more completely than it had ever been represented before. He strongly favored the restoration of the House of Lords, he endeavored to reform the laws, and he sought to secure religious toleration for the great body of Protestants. One who knew Cromwell intimately said, "A larger soul, I think, hath seldom dwelt in a house of clay, than his was."

Circumstances, however, were often against him; he had many enemies, and in order to secure peace he was obliged to resort to the exercise of absolute power. Yet the difference in this respect between Cromwell and Charles I was immense: the latter was despotic on his own account, the former for the advantage of those he governed.

RICHARD CROMWELL--September 3, 1658-April 22, 1659

463. Richard Cromwell's Incompetency.

Richard Cromwell, Oliver's eldest son, now succeeded to the Protectorate (S455). He was an amiable individual, as negative in character as his father had been positive. With the extreme Puritans (S457), known as the "godly party," he had no sympathy whatever. "Here," said he to one of them, pointing to a friend of his who stood by, "is a man who can neither preach nor pray, yet I would trust him before you all." Such frankness was not likely to make the new ruler popular with the army, made up of men who never lacked a Scripture text to justify either a murder or a massacre. Moreover, the times were perilous, and called for a decided hand at the helm. After a brief reign of less than eight months the military leaders requested Richard to resign, and soon afterwards recalled the "Rump Parliament" (S447).

464. Richard retires.

The Protector retired not only without remonstrance, but apparently with a sense of relief at being so soon eased of a burden too heavy for his weak shoulders to carry. To the people he was hereafter familiarly known as "Tumbledown-Dick," and was caricatured as such on tavern signboards.

The nation pensioned him off with a moderate allowance, and he lived in obscurity to an advanced age, carrying about with him to the last a trunk filled with the congratulatory addresses and oaths of allegiance which he had received when he became Protector.

Years after his abdication it is reported that he visited Westminster, and when the attendant, who did not recognize him, showed him the throne, he said, "Yes; I have not seen that chair since I sat in it myself in 1659."

465. The "Convention Parliament."

The year following Richard Cromwell's withdrawal was full of anxiety and confusion. The army of the Commonwealth had turned Parliament out of doors (1659). There was no longer any regularly organized government, and the country drifted helplessly like a ship without a pilot.

General Monk, then commander in chief in Scotland, now marched into England (1660) with the determination of calling a new Parliament, which should be full, free, and representative of the real political feeling of the nation. When he reached London with his army, the members of the "Rump Parliament" (S447) had resumed their sessions.

At Monk's invitation the Presbyterian members, whom Colonel Pride had driven from their seats eleven years before (S447), now went back. This assembly issued writs for the summoning of a "Convention Parliament" (so styled because called without royal authority), and then dissolved by their own consent. Thus ended that memorable "Long Parliament" (S439), which had existed nearly twenty years. About a month later the Convention, including ten members of the House of Lords, met, and at once invited Charles Stuart, then in Holland, to return to his kingdom. He had made certain promises, called the "Declaration of Breda,"[1] which were intended to smooth the way for his return.

[1] The Declaration of Breda, made by Charles in Holland (1660) promised: (1) free pardon to all those not excepted by Parliament; (2) liberty of conscience to all whose views did not disturb the peace of the realm; (3) the settlement by Parliament of all claims to landed property; (4) the payment of arrears to Monk's army.

466. Summary.

Richard Cromwell's government existed in name only, never in fact. During his so-called Protectorate the country was under the control of the army of the Commonwealth or of that "Rump Parliament" which represented nothing but itself.

The period which elapsed after Oliver Cromwell's death was one of waiting and preparation. It ended in the meeting of the free national Parliament, which put an end to the republic, and restored royalty in the person of Charles II.

CHARLES II--1660-1685

467. The Restoration of Monarchy; Accession of Charles; a New Standing Army, 1660.

The English army heard that Charles was coming, with sullen silence; the ex-members of the "Rump Parliament" (S465), with sullen dread; the rest of the nation, with a feeling of relief. However much they had hated the despotism of the two Stuart Kings, James I and Charles I, four fifths of the people stood ready to welcome any change which promised to do away with a government maintained by bayonets.

Charles II was received at Dover with the wildest demonstrations of joy. Bells pealed, flags waved, bonfires blazed all the way to London, and the King said, with characteristic irony, "It must have been my own fault that I did not come before, for I find no one but declares that he is glad to see me."

The existence of the late Republic and the Protectorate (SS450, 455) was as far as possible ignored. The House of Lords was restored (SS450, 455). The new reign was dated, not when it actually began, but from the day of Charles I's execution twelve years before. The troops of the Commonwealth were speedily disbanded, but the King retained a picked guard of five thousand men, which became the nucleus of a new standing army.

468. The King's Character.

The sovereign who now ascended the throne was in every respect the opposite of Cromwell. Charles II had no love of country, no sense of duty, no belief in man, no respect for woman. Evil circumstances and evil companions had made him "a good-humored lad but hard-hearted voluptuary." For twelve years he had been a wanderer, and at times almost a beggar. Now the sole aim of his life was enjoyment. He desired to be King because he would then be able to accomplish that aim.

469. Reaction from Puritanism.

In this purpose Charles had the sympathy of a considerable part of the people. The Puritan faith (S378), represented by such men as Hampden (S436) and Milton (S450), was noble indeed; but unfortunately there were many in its ranks who had no like grandeur of soul, but who pushed Puritanism to its most injurious and offensive extreme. That attempt to reduce the whole of life to a narrow system of sour self-denial had at last broken down.

Now, under the Restoration, the reaction set in, and the lower and earthly side of human nature--none the less human because it is at the bottom and not at the top--seemed determined to take its full revenge. Butler ridiculed religious zeal in his poem of "Hudibras" (S457), which ever courtier had by heart. Society was smitten with an epidemic of immorality. Profligacy became the fashion in both speech and action, and much of the popular literature of that day will not bear the light.

470. The Royal Favorites.

The King surrounded himself with men like himself. This merry gang of revelers vied with each other in dissipation and in jests on each other. Charles's two chief favorites were the Earl of Rochester, a gifted but ribald poet, and Lord Shaftesbury, who became Lord Chancellor. Both have left on record their estimate of their royal master. The first wrote on the door of the King's bedchamber:

"Here lies our sovereign lord, the King,
Whose word no man relies on;
He never says a foolish thing,
Nor ever does a wise one."

To which Charles, on reading it, retorted, "'Tis true! because while my words are my own, my acts are my ministers'."

A bright repartee tells us what the second favorite thought. "Ah! Shaftesbury," said the King to him one day, "I verily believe you are the wickedest dog in my dominions." "Yes, your Majesty," replied Shaftesbury, "for a SUBJECT I think perhaps I may be."

471. The Clarendon Ministry; Punishment of the Regicides.

From a political point of view, the new reign began decently and ably under the direction of the Earl of Clarendon as leading minister or adviser to the King. The first act of Charles's first Parliament was to proclaim a pardon to all who had fought against his father in the civil war. The only persons excepted wre the members of that high court of justice (S448) which had sent Charles I to the block. Of these, ten were executed and nineteen imprisoned for life. Most of the other regicide judges were either already out of the country or managed to escape soon after.

Among these, William Goffe, Edward Whalley, and Colonel John Dixwell took refuge in Connecticut, where they remained concealed for several years. Eventually the first two went to Hadley, Massachusetts, where they lived in seclusion in the house of a clergyman until their death.

The bodies of Oliver Cromwell, Ireton, Bradshaw, and Pride, all of whom had served as judges in the trial and condemnation of Charles (S448), were dug up from their graves in Westminster Abbey and hanged in chains at Tyburn.[1] They were then buried at the foot of the gallows along with he moldering remains of highway robbers and criminals of the lowest sort, but Cromwell's head was cut off and set up on a pinnacle of Westminster Hall.[2]

[1] Tyburn: near the northeast entrance to Hyde Park, London. It was for several centuries the chief place for the public execution of felons. [2] It has since been questioned whether Cromwell's body was disposed of in this manner or whether another body, supposed at that time to be his, was dealt with as here described. See the "Dictionary of National (British) Biography," under "Oliver Cromwell."

472. Religious Persecution; Covenanters; Bunyan.

The first Parliament that met (1661) commanded the common hangman to publicly burn the Solemn League and Covenant (S444); it restored the Episcopal form of worship and enacted four very severe laws, called the "Clarendon Code," against those Nonconformists or Dissenters who had ejected the Episcopal clergy (S444).[1]

[1] The chief Nonconformists then were: (1) the Presbyterians; (2) the Independents, or Congregationalists; (3) the Baptists; (4) the Society of Friends, or Quakers. Originally the name "Nonconformist" was given to those who refused to conform to the worship of the Church of England, and who attempted to change it to suit their views or else set up their own form of faith as an independent church. The name "Nonconformist" (or Dissenter) now applies to any Protestant outside the Established Church of England (SS496, 498).

The first of these new laws was entitled the "Corporation Act" (1661). It ordered all holders of municipal offices to renounce the Covenant[2] which had been put in force in 1647, and to take the sacrament of the Church of England. Next, a new Act of Uniformity (1662) (S382) enforced the use of the Episcopal Prayer Book upon all clergymen and congregations. This was followed by the Conventicle Act[3] (1664), which forbade the meeting of any religious assemblies except such as worshiped according to the Established Church of England. Lastly, the Five-Mile Act (1665) forbade all dissenting ministers to teach in schools, or to settle within five miles of an incorporated town.

[2] Covenant: the oath or agreement to maintain the Presbyterian faith and worship. It originated in Scotland (S438). [3] See, too, on these acts, the Summary of Constitutional History in the Appendix, p. xix, S20.

The second of these stringent retaliatory statutes, the Act of Uniformity, drove two thousand Presbyterian ministers from their parishes in a single day, and reduced them to the direst distress. The able-bodied among them might indeed pick up a precarious livelihood by hard labor, but the old and the weak soon found their refuge in the grave.

Those who dared to resist these intolerant and inhuman laws were punished with fines, imprisonment, or slavery. The Scottish Parliament abolished Presbyterianism and restored Episcopacy. It vied with the Cavalier or King's party in England in persecution of the Dissenters,[4] and especially of the Covenanters (S438).

[4] The Scottish Parliament granted what was called the "Indulgence" to Presbyterian ministers who held moderate views. The extreme Covenanters regarded these "indulged Presbyterians" as deserters and traitors who were both weak and wicked. For this reason they hated them worse than they did the Episcopalians. See Burton's "Scotland," VII, 457-468.

Claverhouse, who figures as the "Bonny Dundee" of Sir Walter Scott, hunted the Covenanters with bugle and bloodhound, like so many deer; and his men hanged and drowned those who gathered secretly in glens and caves to worship God.[1] The father of a family would be dragged from his cottage by the soldiers, asked if he would take the test of conformity to the Church of England and the oath of allegiance to King Charles II; if he refused, the officer in command gave the order, "Make ready--take aim--fire!"--and there lay the corpse of the rebel.

[1] See the historical poem of the "Maiden Martyr of Scotland," in the collection of "Heroic Ballads," Ginn and Company.

Among the multitudes who suffered in England for religion's sake was a poor tinker and day laborer named John Bunyan. He had served against the King in the civil wars, and later had become converted to Puritanism, and turned exhorter and itinerant preacher. He was arrested, while preaching in a farmhouse, and convicted of having "devilishly and perniciously abstained from coming to church."

The judge sentenced him to the Bedford county jail, where he remained a prisoner for twelve years (1660-1672). Later on, he was again arrested (1675) and sent to the town jail on Bedford Bridge. It was, he says, a squalid "Denn."[2] But in his marvelous dream of "A Pilgrimage from this World to the Next," which he wrote while shut up within the narrow limits of that filthy prison house, he forgot the misery of his surroundings. Like Milton in his blindness, loneliness, and poverty, he looked within and found that

"The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell."[3]

[2] "As I walk'd through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where there was a Denn, and I laid me down in that place to sleep: and as I slept I dreamed a dream."--"The Pilgrim's Progress," 1678. [3] "Paradise Lost," Book I, 253.

473. Seizure of a Dutch Colony in America (1664).

While these things were going on in England, a strange event took place abroad. The Dutch had established a colony on the Hudson River. It was on territory which the English claimed (S335), but which they had never explored or settled. The Dutch had built a town at the mouth of the Hudson, which they called New Amsterdam. They held the place undisturbed for fifty years, and if "Possession is nine points of the law," they seem to have acquired it. Furthermore, during the period of Cromwell's Protectorate (S455), England had made a treaty with Holland and had recognized the claims of the Dutch in the New World.

Charles had found shelter and generous treatment in Holland when he needed it most. But he now cooly repudiated the treaty, and, though the two nations were at peace, he treacherously sent out a secret expedition to capture the Dutch colony for his brother James, Duke of York, to whom he had granted it.

One day a small English fleet suddenly appeared (1664) in the harbor of the Dutch town, and demanded its immediate and unconditional surrender. The governor was unprepared to make any defense, and the place was given up. Thus, without so much as the firing of a gun, New Amsterdam got the name of New York in honor of the man who had now become its owner. The acquisition of this territory, which had separated the northern English colonies from the southern, gave England complete control of the Atlantic coast from Maine to northern Florida.

474. The Plague and the Fire, 1665, 1666.

The next year a terrible outbreak of the plague occurred in London, 1665, which spread throughout the kingdom (S244). All who could, fled from the city. Hundreds of houses were left vacant, while on hundreds more a cross marked on the doors in red chalk, with the words "Lord have mercy on us," written underneath, told where the work of death was going on.[1]

[1] Pepys writes in his "Diary," describing the beginning of the plague: "The 7th of June, 1665, was the hottest day I ever felt in my life. This day, much against my will, I did in Drury Lane see two or three houses with a red cross upon the door, and `Lord have mercy upon us' writ there, which was a sad sight."--Pepys, "Diary," 1660-1669. Defoe wrote a journal of the plague in 1722, based, probably, on the reports of eyewitnesses. It gives a vivid and truthful account of its horrors.

The pestilence swept off over a hundred thousand victims within six months. Among the few brave men who voluntarily remained in the stricken city were the Puritan ministers, who stayed to comfort and console the sick and dying. After the plague was over, they received their reward through the enforcement of those acts of persecution which drove them homeless and helpless from their parishes and friends (S472).

The dead cart had hardly ceased to go its rounds, when a fire broke out, 1666, of which Evelyn, a courtier who witnessed it, wrote that it "was not to be outdone until the final conflagration of the world."[1] By it the city of London proper was reduced to ruins, little more being left than a fringe of houses on the northeast.

[1] Evelyn's "Diary," 1641-1705; also compare Dryden's poem "Annus Mirabilis."

Great as the calamity was, yet from a sanitary point of view it did immense good. Nothing short of fire could have effectually cleansed the London of that day, and so put a stop to the periodical ravages of the plague. By sweeping away miles of narrow streets crowded with miserable buildings black with the encrusted filth of ages, the conflagration in the end proved friendly to health and life.

A monument near London Bridge still marks the spot where the flames first burst out. For many years it bore an inscription affirming that the Catholics kindled them in order to be revenged on their persecutors. The poet Pope, at a later period, exposed the falsehood in the lines:

"Where London's column pointing toward the skies
Like a tall bully lifts its head and lies."[2]

[2] "Moral Essays," Epistle III.

Sir Christopher Wren, the most famous architect of the period, rebuilt the city. The greater part of it had been of wood, but it rose from the ashes brick and stone. One irreparable loss was the old Gothic church of St. Paul. Wren erected the present cathedral on the foundations of the ancient structure. On a tablet near the tomb of the great master builder one reads the inscription in Latin, "Reader, if you seek his monument, look around."[1]

[1] "Lector, si monumentum requiris, circumspice."

475. Invasion by the Dutch (1667).