THE LORD PROTECTOR

Chapter XX          The Commonwealth-The Rump-Ireland  
Chapter XXI         Scotland-Dunbar and Worcester  
Chapter XXII        The Lord Protector  
Chapter XXIII       England's Greatest Strength  
Chapter XXIV       The Major Generals   
Chapter XXV        Dallying With the Crown   
Chapter XXVI       The Death of Cromwell  
Chapter XXVI       Cromwell's Place in History  

The Commonwealth of England was practically established when, at the death of Charles I, the monarchal principle was put to sleep, and the Parliament adopted a new great seal, bearing a representation of the House of Commons, with the words, "In the first year of Freedom by God’s blessing restored, 1648" (1649).

This device was suggested by the witty Harry Marten, who, while the measures for changing the form of the Government were in preparation, had used the words, "Restored to its ancient form of Commonwealth." A member questioned the propriety of the word "Restored," as he had never heard of the antiquity of the Commonwealth. Marten made the whimsical but ingenious rejoinder, that there was a text which had often troubled his spirit concerning the man who was blind from his mother’s womb, but whose sight was at length restored to the sight which he should have had.

A proclamation was issued declaring that instant death would be the portion of anyone who should proclaim Charles II, or any other, King, without the consent of the Parliament. It was ordered that all court proceedings should be conducted in the name of the Parliament of England. One hundred pounds was voted as a gratuity to the King’s executioner.

One week after the King’s death (February 6, 1649) the Commons, by a vote of forty-four to twenty-nine on the previous question, and by unanimous vote on the main question, solemnly abolished the House of Lords. On the next day they passed a vote running thus: "It hath been found by experience, and this House doth declare, that the office of the King, in this nation, and to have the power thereof in any single person, is unnecessary, burthensome, and dangerous to the liberty, safety, and public interest of the people of this nation, and therefore ought to be abolished."

On February 13, the Parliament, now consisting only of the "Rump" of the old House of Commons, provided for the creation of a Council of State, which was henceforth to have the executive power and to consist of forty-one persons. Cromwell, Bradshaw, Fairfax, Whitelock, Marten, Ludlow, and Vane were members.

On March 21, the Parliament passed a declaration stating their reasons for establishing a Commonwealth, which contained a full account of their past grievances, together with an appeal to the popular prejudices by aspersing the King’s memory under the old and absurd fable that he had possessed a guilty knowledge of the cause of his father’s death.

On April 25, the Parliament attempted to restore public confidence by passing an act of oblivion.

On May 19, the Parliament enacted:

"That the people of England, and of all the dominions and territories thereunto belonging, are and shall be, and are hereby constituted, made, established, and confirmed to be, A Commonwealth or Free State; and shall from henceforth be governed as a Commonwealth or Free State, by the supreme authority of this nation the representatives of the people in Parliament, and by such as they shall appoint and constitute officers and ministers under them for the good of the people; and that without any King or House of Lords."

When the Council of State first met, Cromwell seems to have been chosen as its President, though afterwards Bradshaw filled the office.

Soon (March 13, 1649) John Milton was pressed by the Council of State to accept service as one of the Latin secretaries for the Commonwealth. He was then engaged in other work, was writing history, had contracted an unhappy marriage, and was planning a series of papers proclaiming the pernicious doctrine that divorce is a boon to society. But he was wanted especially to write a reply to that book of Charles I, Eikon Basilikè—The King’s Image. Its pathos and tender piety were smiting the consciences of all Englishmen.

Immediately after the death of Charles, this book had arisen as an advocate almost out of his grave. It was printed and sold within a very few days of his execution. The King was at once assumed to be its author, and the claim has never been successfully denied, although the question has ever since been the subject of an interesting controversy. The book contains the King’s answer to all the political accusations which the Parliamentary party had made against him; and it was written with so much piety and meekness, and his sufferings were referred to with so much patience, that it caused a tremendous revulsion of feeling. The demand for the book was so great that it passed rapidly through forty-seven editions, amounting to 48,500 copies, which were disposed of in England alone. Translations appeared in foreign countries, and the sentiment that the King had indeed died a martyr began to take such a firm hold upon the public mind, that the Parliamentary party implored John Milton to write a reply, which he promptly proceeded to do in a book entitled Eikonoklastes, or The King’s Image Destroyed. But his style was so sarcastic and severe that it only increased the anger of the Royalists and Presbyterians.

Milton was now forty-one years old. He had been educated at St. Paul’s School, and taken his degree at Cambridge. A season of travel on the Continent had added much to the stores of his mind. He had already produced Comus, besides a number of religious treatises. His political essays, sometimes coarse in expression, sometimes harsh with passion, always suggesting the partisan and the advocate, and seldom the philosopher, were nevertheless powerful additions to the discussions of the times. Firm in his self-confidence, he had already promised the world that he would write a poem which would be the glory of his country. While pursuing his arduous duties as Cromwell’s secretary, he became totally blind. Long afterwards, in a forced retirement which followed the Restoration, he wrote Paradise Lost, and sold it to his publisher for five pounds, with the promise of five more when 1,300 copies should be sold. He had received one thousand pounds for Eikonoklastes. In the following noble sonnet, he paid a tribute of homage to the Puritan leader:

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud

Not of war only, but detractions rude,

Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough’d,

And on the neck of crowned fortune proud

Hast reared God’s trophies, and his work pursued,

While Darwin stream with blood of Scots imbrued,

And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud,

And Worcester’s laureat wreath. Yet much remains

To conquer still; peace hath her victories

No less renowned than war; new foes arise

Threat’ning to bind our souls with secular chains;

Help us to save free conscience from the paw

Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw."

Oliver Cromwell was very busy in these days. The marriage settlement was still to be arranged for his son Richard, idle Richard, who had taken no part in these big wars. Oliver advised him to learn business, to study mathematics, to read Raleigh’s History of the World, to do something, anything, that would make the world respect him. Richard was by this time much in love with Mistress Dorothy, and there was much correspondence between Richard’s father and Dorothy’s father concerning her portion. Oliver was exacting, Mr. Mayor was cautious and thrifty. But Richard was impetuous, in short, a fond lover. "Sir," writes Oliver to Mr. Mayor, "my son had a great desire to come down, and wait upon your daughter. I perceive he minds that more than to attend to business here." A little more negotiation followed, and then all was agreed to. At last they were married (May 1, 1649), and Richard led a dull, stupid, respectable, and uneventful life at Hursely, acquiring nothing from the experience of the times to fit him for his future Protectorship.

Discontent, jealousy, suspicion, seem to be spreading all over the land. The Army becomes infected. John Lilburne, an officer, is writing vicious pamphlets about England’s New Chains Discovered. Whalley’s regiment mutinies. Cromwell, furious in the face of insubordination, hastens to their quarters at Bishopsgate, arrests fifteen of the ringleaders, condemns six of them to death, but pardons five, and makes an example of one young trooper, Lockyer, who is shot. This quells the mutiny, and order is restored.

But Lilburne’s pamphlets are very troublesome. They spread disorder everywhere. Their author is now a close prisoner in the Tower, but his virile pen has wrought much mischief. The Levelers rise, knowing not what they would have, exactly, but they dislike the present order of things. Their aspect is threatening. The country people swell their ranks. Their of husbandry are converted into arms. Their rude implements must be crushed. Cromwell marches upon them, Fairfax being with him. The Levelers retreat north, sorry now that they ever held a grievance. The Lieutenant-General follows them with speed. All through a Sunday and Monday in the middle of May he rides after them. He covers nearly fifty miles in a day, comes up with them at midnight on Monday at the town of Burford. There is no resistance. Three of them are shot to death. He gathers others into a church, and harangues them in the Puritan style, and then pardons them. "England’s New Chains" are now worn without further revolt, and Cromwell returns to London to be banqueted and thanked. He had saved the nation from anarchy. And now for Ireland.

Never, since the Catholic massacre of 1641, had the English Government been able to assert its power in that distressed country. Unpunished crime had made the bigoted rebels bold to continue the most atrocious cruelties. The heir to the throne, now calling himself Charles II, had renewed Ormond’s commission as Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, and the whole island, except the city of Dublin, was held by parties hostile to the Parliament. Ormond, an able and audacious Royalist, had planted his troops in many of the old castles. Owen Roe O’Neil, of an ancient extraction, swayed the native Catholics, and bade defiance to all English, either for King or Parliament. Abbas O’Teague led the excommunicated hordes. In Ulster there were Episcopalians for the King, Presbyterians for the King and the Covenant, and many Sectarians for the Parliament. In Dublin there was Michael Jones, a General commanding for the Parliament, who had just won a great victory by beating the Marquis of Ormond’s army.

The Parliament selected Oliver Cromwell to go to Ireland as Lord Lieutenant, with plenary powers to reduce that country to obedience. He arrived in Dublin August 15, 1649. Henry Cromwell, his gallant son, and Henry Ireton, his son-in-law, were with him. A fearful anarchy prevailed on all sides. The war which had broken out in 1641 had embodied the Irish method of demanding religious liberty for Catholics. Looking back from this enlightened age, we must see that the native population had been sorely oppressed. The narrow spirit of the times had denied to them the right to practice their religion according to the forms in which they had been instructed. A Catholic had no protection for his conscience before the pale of English law, and when their churches were closed, and their lands and money confiscated, they resisted, as people who are treated with like rigor by the ruling powers must ever have the right to resist. But their extreme barbaric ignorance, their savage hatred of their oppressors, and the native fierceness of their disposition, led them beyond the line of conduct of a just rebellion into acts of cruelty and ferocity which made them resemble wild beasts. The story of their brutal treatment of the English settlers has already been told. Cromwell, with a mind oblivious of their own wrongs, brought his invading hosts to conquer them, and wreak a fearful vengeance on their crimes. But his purpose was not one of indiscriminate slaughter. Immediately after his arrival at Dublin, he issued a declaration, warning his soldiers against the practice of any cruelties, pillage, or robbery upon the common people, or those not in arms, and he threatened with death any who disobeyed in this respect. He was transported to believe himself the captain of the Most High, commissioned by Eternal Heaven to lift that unhappy land out of centuries of ignorance and superstition, and to cleave the way for the true gospel of Christ by the power of his sword.

"It is a principle," observes a philosophic French writer, "that every religion which is persecuted becomes itself persecuting, for as soon as by some accidental turn it arises from persecution, it attacks the religion which persecuted it, not as a religion, but as a tyranny."

On the 3^rd of September Cromwell appeared before Drogheda, or Tredagh, as it was then called, and summoned it to surrender. This city is situated in the province of Leinster, thirty-one miles north of Dublin, on the historic Boyne River. The summons being denied, he planted his batteries with extreme leisure, and did not begin to play his guns until one week after. His official report to Speaker Lenthall of this affair is terrible in its simplicity and directness. He writes:

"Upon Tuesday, the 10^th of this instant, about five o’clock in the evening, we began the storm; and after some hot dispute we entered, about seven or eight hundred men; the enemy disputing it very stiffly with us. And indeed, through the advantages of the place, and the courage God was pleased to give the defenders, our men were forced to retreat quite out of the breach, not without some considerable loss."

He does not tell the fact that he, viewing this repulse from the batteries, placed himself at the head of the charging column, and led the second attack in person. But he says:

"Being encouraged to recover their loss, they made a second attempt; wherein God was pleased so to animate them that they got ground of the enemy, and, by the goodness of God, forced him to quit his entrenchments. ... Divers of the enemy retreated into the Mill-Mount: a place very strong and of difficult access, being exceedingly high, having a good graft, and strongly palisadoed. The Governor, Sir Arthur Aston, and divers considerable officers being there, our men getting up to them, were ordered by me to put them all to the sword. And indeed, being in the heat of action, I forbade them to spare any that were in arms in the town: and, I think, that night they put to the sword about 2,000 men; divers of the officers and soldiers being fled over the bridge into the other part of the town, where about 100 of them possessed St. Peter’s Church-steeple, some the Westgate, and others a strong Round Tower next the Gate called St. Sunday’s. These being summoned to yield to mercy, refused. Whereupon I ordered the steeple of St. Peter’s Church to be fired, when one of them was heard to say in the midst of the flames, ‘God damn me, God confound me, I burn, I burn!’"

Night put a stop to the dreadful carnage. But at daybreak it was resumed. Sir Arthur Aston, the English Governor, and Sir Edmund Verney, son of the standard-bearer at Edgehill, were slain. The frightened survivors were caught and killed. Especial delight was manifested in killing the priests. But two of these men escaped the first slaughter, and they were found the next day, and knocked on the head by the soldiers. In all, 3,000 men were put to the sword. Cromwell justifies his conduct by a soldier’s logic. He writes:

"I am persuaded that this is a righteous judgment of God upon these barbarous wretches, who have imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood, and that it will tend to prevent the effusion of blood for the future: which are the satisfactory grounds to such actions, which otherwise cannot but work remorse and regret. The officers and soldiers of this garrison were the flower of their army; and their great expectation was, that our attempting this place would put fair to ruin us, they being confident of the resolution of their men, and the advantage of the place. ... And now give me leave to say how it comes to pass that this work is wrought. It was set upon some of our hearts, that a great thing should be done, not by power or might, but by the Spirit of God. And is it not so, clearly? That which caused your men to storm so courageously, it was the Spirit of God who gave your men courage, and took it away again; and gave the enemy courage, and took it away again; and gave your men courage again, and therewith this happy success. And therefore it is good that God alone have all the glory."

We have told the story of this frightful encounter chiefly in Cromwell’s own words, because Cromwell, as his own witness, has not attempted to evade any part of the responsibility for the slaughter. His purpose in killing the garrison of Drogheda is very plainly expressed by him, and that the result which he so acutely anticipated was speedily accomplished, is shown by this testimony from Carte, the biographer of Ormond: "The execrable policy of that Regicide," says Carte, "had the effect he proposed. It spread abroad the terror of his name."

Cromwell entreated the Parliament to send him money and recruits. "We keep the field much," he wrote, "our tents sheltering us from the wet and cold. But yet the country sickness overtakes many: and therefore we desire recruits, and some fresh regiments of foot, may be sent us. For it’s easily conceived by what the garrisons already drink up, what our field army will come to, if God shall give more garrisons into our hands."

From Drogheda Cromwell marched to Dundalk, a seaport town. He was not a bloodthirsty man; in spite of all the rigors of his battles his policy was that of a stern but humane general. Leading an unconquerable army, he sent this summons to the Governor of Dundalk. A bloodthirsty man would not have written thus:

"12^th September, 1649.

"Sir:

"I offered mercy to the Garrison of Tredagh (Drogheda), in sending the Governor a Summons before I attempted the taking of it. Which being refused brought their evil upon them.

"If you, being warned thereby, shall surrender your Garrison to the use of the Parliament of England, which by this I summon you to do, you may thereby prevent effusion of blood. If, upon refusing this Offer, that which you like not befalls you, you will know whom to blame. I rest, your servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Dundalk surrendered; so did Trim, to the South of it. The intrepid commander left a force of Ironsides to garrison each captured city, which diminished the strength of his marching column, and he sent divers parties to conquer other strongholds. Upon receiving the reports of his operations, the Parliament made haste to send him more troops, which joined him in due time.

After refreshing his soldiers at Dublin, Cromwell (September 23) marched south, and proceeded to invest his troops in some twenty Irish strongholds with scarcely any opposition. The Castle of Arklow, belonging to Ormond, was taken without resistance. At Limerick, Ferns, and Enniscorthy strong castles fell into his hands with varied spoil. By October 1, he had reached the southeastern extremity of Ireland and come before Wexford, a seaport city seventy-four miles south of Dublin, situated at the mouth of the river Slaney, in the province of Leinster. A large garrison of English and Irish soldiers was strongly fortified in this town, under the command of Colonel David Sinnott, and it was their fierce intention to resist the Puritan invaders to victory or death.

Cromwell has been often anathematized as a man of blood for his massacres at Drogheda and Wexford. But an examination of the facts must vindicate his conduct. He had offered fair terms to the garrison at Drogheda before assaulting their stronghold, and they had preferred to take the chances of battle. At Wexford he urged for many days the peaceable surrender of the place, postponing the last extremity of war even after he perceived that the defenders were trifling with him, and were prolonging the negotiations only to gain time for receiving reinforcements. The correspondence which passed between Cromwell and David Sinnott, the Governor of Wexford, is sufficient to exculpate the Puritan leader from the charge of a thirst for human blood. His first summons was as follows:

"To the Commander-In-Chief of the Town Of Wexford.

"Before Wexford, 3^rd October, 1649.

"Sir,

"Having brought the Army belonging to the Parliament of England before this place, to reduce it to its due obedience: to the end effusion of blood may be prevented, and the Town and Country about it preserved from ruin, I thought fit to summon you to deliver the same to me, to the use of the State of England.

"By this offer, I hope it will clearly appear where the guilt will lie, if innocent persons should come to suffer with the nocent. I expect your speedy answer; and rest, Sir, your servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

To this Sinnott replied:

"For the Lord-General Cromwell.

"Wexford, 3^rd October, 1649,

"Sir,

"I received your Letter of Summons for the delivery of this Town into your hands. Which standeth not with my honour to do of myself; neither will I take it upon me, without the advice of the rest of the Officers and Mayor of this Corporation; this town being of so great consequence to all Ireland. Whom I will call together, and confer with; and return my resolution to you to-morrow by twelve of the clock.

"In the mean time, if you be so pleased, I am content to forbear all acts of hostility, so you permit no approach to be made. Expecting your answer in that particular, I remain, my Lord, your Lordship’s servant,

"D. Sinnott."

Cromwell’s answer was brief and to the point:

"Sir,

"I am contented to expect your resolution by twelve of the clock to-morrow morning. Because our tents are not so good a covering as your houses, and for other reasons, I cannot agree to a cessation. I rest, your servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

But Sinnott adroitly spun out the correspondence until the 9^th, and Cromwell’s official report says:

"Our cannon being landed, and we having removed all our quarters to the south-east end of the Town, next the Castle, which stands without the Walls, 6^th October, it was generally agreed that we should bend the whole strength of our artillery upon the Castle; being persuaded that if we got the Castle the Town would easily follow. Upon Thursday the 11^th instant (our batteries being finished the night before), we began to play betimes in the morning; and having spent near a hundred shot, the Governor’s stomach came down; and he sent to me to give leave for four persons, intrusted by him, to come unto me, and offer terms of surrender. Which I condescended to, two Field-Officers, with an Alderman of the Town, and the Captain of the Castle brought out the Propositions enclosed, which for their abominableness manifesting also the impudency of the men, I thought fit to present to your view—together with my Answer:"

The propositions contained in addition to the usual conditions for the lives and property of the inhabitants some severe stipulations for the permanent establishment of the Catholic religion, stipulations which were very repugnant and utterly offensive to the leader of a Puritan Army. But Cromwell wrote a very patient and reasonable reply, and his report continues:

"Whilst these papers were passing between us, I sent the Lieutenant General, Michael Jones, with a party of dragoons, horse and foot, to endeavour to reduce their Fort, which lay at the mouth of their harbour, about ten miles distant from us. To which he sent a troop of dragoons; but the Enemy quitted their Fort, leaving behind them about seven great guns; betook themselves, by the help of their boats, to a Frigate of twelve guns lying in the harbour, within cannon-shot of the Fort. The dragoons possessed the Fort: and some seamen belonging to your Fleet coming happily in at the same time, they bent their guns at the Frigate, and she immediately yielded to mercy—both herself, the soldiers that had been in the Fort, and the seamen that manned her. And whilst our men were in her, the Town, not knowing what had happened, sent another small vessel to her; which our men also took.

"The Governor of the Town having obtained from me a Safe-conduct for the four persons mentioned in one of the papers, to come and treat with me about the surrender of the Town, I expected they should have done so. But instead thereof, the Earl of Castlehaven brought to their relief, on the north side of the river, about five-hundred foot. Which occasioned their refusal to send out any to treat; and caused me to revoke my safe-conduct, not thinking it fit to leave it for them to make use of it when they pleased."

Still Sinnott wrote apologies for not surrendering, and still Cromwell sent him fairly polite replies; one of which follows:

"For the Commander-In-Chief In The Town Of Wexford,

"Before Wexford, 11^th October, 1649."Sir,

"I have had the patience to peruse your Propositions; to which I might have returned an Answer with some disdain. But, to be short—

"I shall give the Soldiers and Noncommissioned officers quarter for life, and leave to go to their several habitations, with their wearing-clothes; they engaging themselves to live quietly there, and to take up arms no more against the Parliament of England. And the Commissioned Officers quarter for their lives, but to render themselves Prisoners. And as for the Inhabitants, I shall engage myself that no violence shall be offered to their goods, and that I shall protect the Town from plunder.

"I expect your positive Answer instantly; and if you will upon these terms surrender and quit, [and] shall, in one hour, send forth to me Four Officers of the quality of Field-Officers, and Two Aldermen, for the performance thereof, I shall thereupon forbear all acts of hostility. Your servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

As Sinnott still vacillated, the Irish officer in charge of the Castle was bribed to surrender it. The Roundheads then stormed the walls of the town and entered it with their ladders. The garrison resisted gallantly but their chance of life was now gone. The entire force under arms, and some of the noncombatants, were violently put to death to the number of 2,000. The townspeople fled away in terror and the city became the spoil of Cromwell’s troopers. Those who attempted to escape by boats so overloaded the frail crafts that they met death in the water. Cromwell continues his report:

"I believe, in all, there was lost of the enemy not many less than two thousand, and I believe not twenty of yours from first to last of the siege. And indeed it hath, not without cause, been deeply set upon our hearts, that, we intending better to this place than so great a ruin, hoping the town might be of more use to you and your army, yet God would not have it so; but by an unexpected providence, in His righteous justice, brought a just judgment upon them; causing them to become a prey to the soldier who in their piracies had made preys of so many families, and now with their bloods to answer the cruelties which they had exercised upon the lives of divers poor Protestants! Two instances of which I have been lately acquainted with. About seven or eight score poor Protestants were by them put into an old vessel; which being, as some say, bulged by them, the vessel sank, and they were all presently drowned in the Harbour. The other [instance] was thus: They put divers poor Protestants into a Chapel (which, since, they have used for a Mass-house, and in which one or more of their priests were now killed), where they were famished to death.

"The soldiers got a very good booty in this place; and had not they had opportunity to carry their goods over the River, whilst we besieged it, it would have much more: I could have wished for their own good, and the good of the Garrison, they had been more moderate. Some things which were not easily portable, we hope we shall make use of to your behoof. There are great quantities of iron, hides, tallow, salt, pipe- and barrel-staves; which are under Commissioners’ hands, to be secured. We believe there are near a hundred cannon in the Fort, and elsewhere in and about the Town. Here is likewise some very good shipping; here are three vessels, one of them of thirty-four guns, which a week’s time would fit to sea; there is another of about twenty guns, very near ready likewise. And one other Frigate of twenty guns, upon the stocks; made for sailing; which is built up to the uppermost deck; for her handsomeness’ sake, I have appointed the workmen to finish her, here being materials to do it, if you or the Council of State shall approve thereof. The Frigate, also, taken beside the Fort, is a most excellent vessel for sailing. Besides divers other ships and vessels in the Harbour.

"This Town is now so in your power, that of the former inhabitants, I believe scarce one in twenty can challenge any property in their houses. Most of them are run away, and many of them killed in this service. And it were to be wished, that an honest people would come and plant here; where are very good houses, and other accommodations fitted in their hands, which may by your favour be made of encouragement to them. As also a seat of good trade, both inward and outward; and of marvellous great advantage in the point of the herring and other fishing. The Town is pleasantly seated and strong, having a rampart of earth within the wall near fifteen feet thick.

"Thus it hath pleased God to give into your hands this other mercy. For which, as for all, we pray God may have all the glory. Indeed your instruments are poor and weak and can do nothing but through believing, and that is the gift of God also.

"I humbly take leave, and rest, your most humble servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

This was the "Curse of Cromwell" which the Puritan invader had fastened upon Ireland. To this day his memory is execrated by the native Catholics. There were many rumors in England of his progress, some of which indicated that he had been slain and his Army destroyed; others, that his pathway was marked by fire and death and conquest; on hearing which a Royalist poet, Will Douglas, wrote thus:

Cromwell is dead, and risen; and dead again,
And risen the third time after he was slain
No wonder! For he’s messenger of Hell:
And now he buffets us, now posts to tell
What’s past; and for one more game new counsel takes
Of his good friend the Devil, who keeps the stakes.

The duties and the fatigues of war could never disengage Cromwell’s heart from those whom he had left at home. He wrote this letter to the father of Richard’s wife. There is an exquisite tenderness and pathos in it; the soldier in a hostile country is homesick, we suspect:

"For my beloved Brother Richard Mayor, Esquire, at Hursley: These.

"Ross, 13^th November, 1649.

"Dear Brother:

"I am not often at leisure, nor now, to salute my friends; yet unwillingly to lose this opportunity. I take it, only to let you know that you and your Family are often in my prayers. As for Dick, I do not much expect it from him, knowing his idleness; but I am angry with my Daughter as a promise-breaker. Pray tell her so; but I hope she will redeem herself.

"It has pleased the Lord to give us (since the taking of Wexford and Ross) a good interest in Munster, by the accession of Cork and Youghal, which are both submitted; their Commanders are now with me. Divers other lesser Garrisons are come in also. The Lord is wonderful in these things; it’s His hand alone does them; oh that all the praise might be ascribed to Him!

"I have been crazy in my health; but the Lord is pleased to sustain me. I beg your prayers. I desire you to call upon my Son to mind the things of God more and more! alas, what profit is there in the things of this world! except they be enjoyed in Christ they are snares. I wish he may enjoy his Wife so, and she him; I wish I may enjoy them both so.

"My service to my dear Sister and Cousin Ann; my blessing to my Children, and love to my Cousin Barton and the rest. Sir, I am, your affectionate brother and servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Young Charles the Second had come as far as the Isle of Jersey, being strongly tempted to join Ormond in Ireland; but when the story of how his affairs were failing there was brought to him he came not thither. Prince Rupert, bearing an Admiral’s commission, and having done some bold things on the high seas which were not far from piracy, had reached the coast of Ireland, expecting further glory. He now sailed away to the West Indies, where he soon after lost his brother, Prince Maurice, beneath a tempestuous wave. Rupert troubled the Parliament but little henceforward.

From Wexford Cromwell proceeded to Ross. Ormond, Castlehaven, and other generals were there, but after providing a strong garrison, they themselves discreetly retired. The Governor, Sir Lucas Taafe, made some show of intending to resist, but Cromwell’s sharp letters and sharper batteries brought him to his senses in time, and he surrendered. "You may see how God pulls down proud stomachs," was Oliver’s comment. Sir Lucas had stipulated for liberty of conscience for the inhabitants of Ross, and Cromwell replied, "As for that which you mention concerning liberty of conscience, I meddle not with any man’s conscience. But if, by liberty of conscience, you mean a liberty to exercise the Mass, I judge it best to use plain dealing, and to let you know, where the Parliament of England have power, that will not be allowed of." The English part of the garrison enlisted under him. There was victory everywhere; but neither the magnificent Army which Cromwell himself had organized and disciplined until it was sensible and pliant to his lightest designs, nor its incomparable and splendid achievements, could evoke any sentiment in his devout heart but that of fervent gratitude to Heaven as the fountain of all mercies. He wrote:

"We are able to say nothing as to all this but that the Lord is still pleased to own a company of poor worthless creatures; for which we desire his name to be magnified, and that the hearts of all concerned may be provoked to walk worthy of such continued favours."

Intelligence came to him that the sentiment of the people at Cork was daily becoming more favorable to a Parliamentary allegiance. He prayed the Parliament to send money, clothes, shoes, and stockings for his men, and likewise new soldiers. "Through the same blessed Presence that has gone along with us," he wrote, "I hope, before it be long, to see Ireland no burden to England, but a profitable part of its Commonwealth."

Cromwell was prostrated by sickness at Ross. And so were many of his followers. "To the praise of God I speak it," he said, "I scarce know one officer of forty amongst us that hath not been sick. And how many considerable ones we have lost, is no little thought of heart to us." But he would never stop the work he had undertaken. He sent Ireton and Jones ahead with the Army, who came up with Lord Inchiquin and the rebels, and after an inconsiderable engagement put them to flight. Cromwell soon joined them and sat down before Waterford.

In describing his many fresh victories to the Parliament as he lay in the cold November nights before Waterford, he makes use of this characteristic language:

"Sir, what can be said in these things? Is it an arm of flesh that hath done these things? Is it the wisdom and counsel, or strength of men? It is the Lord only! God will curse that man and his house that dares to think otherwise! Sir, you see the work is done by a Divine leading. God gets into hearts of men, and persuades them to come under you. I tell you, a considerable part of your Army is fitter for an hospital than the field: if the Enemy did not know it, I should have held it impolitic to have writ this. They know it; yet they know not what to do."

He then undertakes to advise his brethren in England against dissensions. "I beg of those that are faithful," he says, "that they give glory to God. I wish it may have influence upon the hearts and spirits of all those that are now in place of government, in the greatest trust, that they may all in heart draw near to God; giving him glory by holiness of life and conversation." Was it a wonder that these letters of the great Puritan were publicly read, by order of Parliament, in all the pulpits of England? He hopes—

"that these unspeakable mercies may teach dissenting brethren on all sides to agree, at least, in praising God. And if the Father of the family be so kind, why should there be such jarrings and heartburnings among the children? And if it will not be received that these are the seals of God’s approbation of your great Change of Government—which indeed are no more yours than these victories and successes are ours—yet let them with us say, even the most unsatisfied heart amongst them, that both are the righteous judgments and mighty works of God. He hath pulled the mighty from his seat, and called to an account for innocent blood. He thus breaks the enemies of his Church in pieces. And let them not be sullen, but praise the Lord, and think of us as they please; and we shall be satisfied, and pray for them and wait upon our God. And we hope we shall seek the welfare and peace of our native country: and the Lord give them hearts to do so too. Indeed, Sir, I was constrained in my bowels to write thus much."

It was thus that his faith stirred the heart of Cromwell in the gloom of the winter siege in that hostile country.

Waterford was, for the present, unassailable. Large reinforcements had just arrived for the rebels. Cromwell’s Army was in no condition to attempt to storm it; and so, on the 2^nd of December, 1649—"So terrible a day," he says, "as ever I marched in all my life"—he set out for Cork, but paused to beat Ormond at a place called the Fort of Passage.

Under Cromwell’s extraordinary genius his pen possessed a power equal to that of his sword. Arrived at Cork he published A Declaration for the Undeceiving of Deluded and Seduced People, in which he replied to all the charges of cruelty and persecution which the Irish priests had made against him since his coming into their country. There is a tone of thunder in his scorn. In speaking of their Union which was organized to resist him, he says:

"By the grace of God, we fear not, we care not for it. Your covenant is with Death and Hell! Your union is like that of Simeon and Levi: ‘Associate yourselves, and ye shall be broken in pieces; take counsel together, and it shall come to naught!’ For though it becomes us to be humble in respect of ourselves, yet we can say to you: God is not with you. You say, Your union is against a common enemy, and to this, if you will be talking of ‘union,’ I will give you some wormwood to bite on; by which it will appear God is not with you. ... You, unprovoked, put the English to the most unheard of and most barbarous massacre (without respect of sex or age) that ever the Sun beheld."

He boldly advances upon polemic grounds:

"He that bids us ‘contend for the faith once delivered to the saints,’ tells us that we should do it by ‘avoiding the spirit of Cain, Corah, and Balaam’; and by building up ourselves in the most holy faith—not pinning it upon other men’s sleeves. Praying ‘in the Holy Ghost,’ not mumbling over Matins. Keeping ‘ourselves in the love of God,’ not destroying men because they will not be of our faith. ‘Waiting for the mercy of Jesus Christ,’ not cruel, but merciful! But, alas, why is this said? Why are these pearls cast before you? You are resolved not to be charmed from ‘using the instrument of a foolish shepherd’! You are a part of Antichrist, whose Kingdom the Scripture so expressly speaks should be ‘laid in blood’; yea, ‘in the blood of the saints.’ You have shed great store of that already!"

The recent abuses spring up in his mind. He says:

"Arbitrary power is a thing men begin to be weary of, in Kings and Churchmen; their juggle between them mutually to uphold Civil and Ecclesiastical Tyranny begins to be transparent. Some have cast off both; and hope by the grace of God to keep so. Others are at it! Many thoughts are laid up about it, which will have their issue and vent. This principle, That people are for Kings and Churches, and saints are for the Pope or Churchmen, as you call them, begins to be exploded, and therefore I wonder not to see the Fraternity so much enraged. I wish the people wiser than to be troubled at you; or solicitous for what you say or do."

His hatred of Popery blazes out:

"But how dare you assume to call these men your Flocks, whom you have plunged into so horrid a rebellion, by which you have made them and the country almost a ruinous heap? And whom you have fleeced and polled and peeled hitherto, and make it your business to do so still. You cannot feed them! You poison them with your false, abominable and antichristian doctrine and practices. You keep the Word of God from them; and instead thereof give them your senseless orders and Traditions. You teach them ‘implicit belief’; he that goes amongst them may find many that do not understand anything in the matters of your Religion. I have had few better answers from any since I came into Ireland that are of your Flocks than this, That indeed they did not trouble themselves about matters of Religion, but left that to the Church! Thus are your Flocks fed; and such credit have you of them. But they must take heed of ‘losing their Religion.’ Alas, poor creatures, what have they to lose?"

He answers their allegation that he came to despoil them of their lands, thus:

"But what? Was the English Army brought over for this purpose, as you allege? Do you think that the State of England will be at five or six millions charge merely to procure purchasers to be invested in that for which they did disburse little above a quarter of a million? ... No, I can give you a better reason for the Army coming over than this. England hath had experience of the blessing of God in prosecuting just and righteous causes, whatever the cost and hazard be! And if ever men were engaged in a righteous cause in the world, this will scarce be a second to it. We are come to ask an account of the innocent blood that hath been shed, and to endeavour to bring to an account—by the blessing and presence of the Almighty, in whom alone is our hope and strength—all who, by appearing in arms, seek to justify the same. We come to break the power of a company of lawless rebels, who having cast off the authority of England, live as enemies to human society; whose principles, the world hath experience, are, to destroy and subjugate all men not complying with them. We come, by the assistance of God, to hold forth and maintain the lustre and glory of English liberty in a nation where we have undoubted right to do it; wherein the people of Ireland (if they listen not to such seducers as you are) may equally participate in all benefits; to use their liberty and fortune equally with Englishmen, if they keep out of arms."

The expenses of his military operations were enormous, and the extraordinary drain upon the resources of his already impoverished country moved him to the deepest solicitude. But he looked upon the Irish war as a necessity of civilization and of Protestantism, and with this view before his mind he wrote to the Parliament on the subject as follows:

"Sir, I desire the charge [cost] of England as to this War may be abated as much as may be, and as we know you do desire, out of your care to the Commonwealth. But if you expect your work to be done, if the marching Army be not constantly paid, and the course taken that hath been humbly represented, indeed it will not be for the thrift of England, as far as England is concerned in the speedy reduction of Ireland. The money we raise upon the counties maintains the garrison forces; and hardly that. If the active force be not maintained, and all contingencies defrayed, how can you expect but to have a lingering business of it? Surely we desire not to spend a shilling of your treasury, wherein our consciences do not prompt us. We serve you; we are willing to be out of our trade of war; and shall hasten, by God’s assistance and grace, to the end of our work, as the labourer doth to be at his rest. This makes us bold to be earnest with you for necessary supplies: that of money is one. As there be some other things—which indeed I do not think for your service to speak of publicly, which I shall humbly represent to the Council of State—wherewith I desire we may be accommodated."

With the opening of the year 1650, he gives his soldiers a breathing spell, while he, spurning to spare himself, turns his attention to rehabilitating the courts of justice in Dublin, and doing much other work not only in the way of conquest but of pacification.

Michael Jones, his valiant aide, perished under the privations of the war, and Cromwell speaks thus touchingly of his death:

"The noble Lieutenant-General—whose finger, to our knowledge, never ached in all these expeditions—fell sick; we doubt upon a cold taken upon our late march and ill accommodation: and went to Dungarvan, where, struggling some four or five days with a fever, he died; having run his course with so much honour, courage, and fidelity, as his actions better speak than my pen. What England lost hereby, is above me to speak. I am sure I lost a noble friend and companion in labours. You see how God mingles out the cup unto us. Indeed we are at this time a crazy company: yet we live in His sight; and shall work the time that is appointed us, and shall rest after that in peace."

On the 29^th of January he again took the field. "Though God hath blessed you with a great longitude of land," he wrote to Speaker Lenthall, "along the shore, yet hath it but little depth into the country." His second campaign was planned to accomplish the reduction of the inland fortresses. There was grave reason for his haste. The Parliament was becoming alarmed at the unmistakable tendencies in Scotland for Charles II. Cromwell was the only Englishman capable of restoring English authority in that kingdom. A formal letter, recalling him to England, had already been dispatched, but he delayed his return until he could still further advance the work in Ireland. His march was northward, and every day almost he took a castle, a garrison, or a town. Kilkenny Castle opened its gates as soon as he appeared before them. Next Clogheen House submitted. Then Roghill Castle, the town of Knocktofer, and a fort called Old Castletown, were taken. Fitzharris Castle attempted a defense, but was carried by storm, and all its officers were slain, the common soldiers being spared. These conquests required the Lord-Lieutenant to leave many of his troops behind to do garrison duty, and, as he had sent Ireton and Henry Cromwell on other service, he arrived at the town of Fethard with only two hundred followers, and without ladders or guns, and sent his summons in the night. They rashly fired on his trumpeter, which they would have dearly repaid had he been better accompanied. But when they found it was really Cromwell who stood outside the walls they yielded their town to him, although there were then "about seventeen companies of the Ulster foot in Cashel, above five miles from thence." Gaining some reinforcements, Callan was taken, and some officers "who betrayed our garrison of Enniscorthy" were hanged. Ballysonan and Craigue House fell, and then Cromwell, for the first time since coming to Ireland, faced an officer of high rank, the Earl of Castlehaven. But Castlehaven had no spirit to stand before the indomitable conqueror, and vanished away. Leighlin Castle was reduced by assault; Gowran Castle resisted, but was taken by storm, and its officers were shot to death with the exception of one who had urged a surrender at the first summons. "In the same Castle also," says Cromwell, "we took a Popish priest, who was chaplain to the Catholics in this regiment; who was caused to be hanged."

On the 25^th of February, 1650, the Commons gratefully passed a vote of thanks to the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland for his services; and they then ordered that Cromwell’s family should have the use of the lodgings called the Cockpit, a sumptuous royal house in Whitehall. Cromwell thought that his mission was not yet sufficiently accomplished to permit of his return to England, and he wrote thus to the Speaker:

"Having given you this account concerning your affairs, I am now obliged to give you an account concerning myself, which I shall do with all clearness and honesty.

"I have received divers private intimations of your pleasure to have me come in person to wait upon you in England, as also copies of Votes of the Parliament to that purpose. But considering the way they came to me was but by private intimations, and the Votes did refer to a Letter to be signed by the Speaker, I thought it would have been too much forwardness in me to have left my charge here, until the said Letter came; it being not fit for me to prophesy whether the Letter would be an absolute command, or having limitations with a liberty left by the Parliament to me, to consider in what way to yield my obedience. Your Letter came to my hands upon Friday, the 22^nd of March, the same day that I came before the City of Kilkenny, and when I was near the same. And I understood by Dr. Cartwright, who delivered it to me, that reason of cross winds, and the want of shipping in the West of England, where he was, hindered him from coming with it sooner; it bearing date the 8^th of January, and not coming to my hands until the 22^nd of March.

"The Letter supposed your Army in Winter-quarters, and the time of the year not suitable for present action; making this as the reason of your command. And your forces have been in action ever since the 29^th of January; and your Letter, which was to be the rule of my obedience, coming to my hands after our having been so long in action, with respect had to the reasons you were pleased to use therein, [I knew not what to do.] And having received a Letter signed by yourself, of the 26^th of February, which mentions not a word of the continuance of your pleasure concerning my coming over, I did humbly conceive it much consisting with my duty, humbly to beg a positive signification what your will is; professing (as before the Lord) that I am most ready to obey your commands herein with all alacrity; rejoicing only to be about that work which I am called to by those whom God hath set over me, which I acknowledge you to be; and fearing only in obeying you, to disobey you.

"I most humbly and earnestly beseech you to judge for me, whether your Letter doth not naturally allow me the liberty of begging a more clear expression of your command and pleasure. Which, when vouchsafed unto me, will find most, ready and cheerful obedience from, Sir, your most humble servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

On March 22, he sat down before the town of Kilkenny, and demanded its reduction to the obedience of the State of England, "from which," he wrote, "by an unheard-of massacre of the innocent English, you have endeavored to rend yourselves. And as God hath begun to judge you with His sore plagues, so will he follow you until he hath destroyed you, if you repent not." But his demand was stoutly refused by Sir Walter Butler, its Royalist governor. Thereupon the batteries began to play on the town walls until, after a hundred cannon shot, a breach was forced, and a storming party entered. This brought the garrison to a sense of its peril, and, on the fourth day, the city was rendered to him. Some officers who had revolted from the Parliament service were quickly hanged.

Amid the deep concerns of State and war, Cromwell took time to write letters to his family, which, more than any other evidence we can present, disclose the real piety and nobility of his mind. To Richard Mayor he said:

"The taking of the City of Kilkenny hath been one of our last works; which indeed I believe hath been a great discomposing the Enemy—it’s so much in their bowels. We have taken many considerable places lately, without much loss. What can we say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us? Who can fight against the Lord and prosper? Who can resist His will? The Lord keep us in His love.

"I desire your prayers; your Family is often in mine. I rejoice to hear how it hath pleased the Lord to deal with my Daughter. The Lord bless her and sanctify all His dispensations to them and us. I have committed my Son to you; I pray counsel him. Some Letters I have lately had from him have a good savour: the Lord treasure up grace there, that out of that treasury He may bring forth good things."

And then to Richard Cromwell he wrote this letter, which only a Puritan father could write to a beloved son:

"For my beloved Son Richard Cromwell, Esquire, at Hursley in Hampshire: These.

"Carrick, 2^nd April, 1650.

"Dick Cromwell,

"I take your letter kindly: I like expressions when they come plainly from the heart, and are not strained nor affected.

"I am persuaded it’s the Lord’s mercy to place you where you are: I wish you may own it and be thankful, fulfilling all relations to the glory of God. Seek the Lord and His face continually: let this be the business of your life and strength, and let all things be subservient and in order to this! You cannot find nor behold the face of God but in Christ; therefore labour to know God in Christ, which the Scripture makes to be the sum of all, even Life Eternal. Because the true knowledge is not literal or speculative; [no] but inward; transforming the mind to it. It’s uniting to, and participating of, the Divine Nature (Second Peter 1:4): ‘That by these ye might be partakers of the Divine Nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust.’ It’s such a knowledge as Paul speaks of (Philippians 3:8-10): ‘Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the Knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. For whom I have suffered the loss of all things; and do count them but dung that I may win Christ, and be found in Him, not having mine own righteousness which is of the Law, but that which is through the Faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by Faith; that I may know Him, and the power of His Resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings; being made conformable unto His death.’ How little of this knowledge is among us! My weak prayers shall be for you.

"Take heed of an unactive vain spirit! Recreate yourself with Sir Walter Raleigh’s History; it’s a Body of History; and will add much more to your understanding than fragments of Story. Intend [endeavour] to understand the Estate I have settled: it’s your concernment to know it all, and how it stands. I have heretofore suffered much by too much trusting others. I know my brother Mayor will be helpful to you in all this.

"You will think, perhaps, I need not advise you to love your wife! The Lord teach you how to do it; or else it will be done ill-favouredly. Though Marriage be no instituted Sacrament, yet where the undefiled bed is, and love, this union aptly resembles [that of] Christ and his Church. If you can truly love your Wife, what [love] doth Christ bear to His Church and every poor soul therein, who ` gave Himself’ for it and to it! Commend me to your Wife; tell her I entirely love her, and rejoice in the goodness of the Lord to her. I wish her everyway fruitful. I thank her for her loving Letter.

"I have presented my love to my Sister and Cousin Ann, etc., in my Letter to my Brother Mayor. I would not have him alter his affairs because of my debt. My purse is as his: my present thoughts are but to lodge such a sum for my two little Girls; it’s in his hand as well as anywhere. I shall not be wanting to accommodate him to his mind; I would not have him solicitous. Dick, the Lord bless you every way. I rest, your loving Father,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Retracing his steps a little, he came before Clonmel (May 9) in Tipperary, on the river Suir, and met the stoutest foe he had encountered in all Ireland. The commander in Clonmel was Hugh O’Neil, who fought Cromwell’s storming hosts until it became a death-struggle in the trenches. For four hours the soldiers were at push of pike, and there were more Roundheads slain than in any other engagement of that campaign. But night came and O’Neil drew out his forces and retreated. Cromwell, having battered down the castle, occupied the town, and when he found the garrison had quitted it, he set out after them and slew two hundred in the pursuit.

The Puritan Parliament passed a humane act for the settlement of Ireland whereby "all husbandmen, ploughmen, laborers, artificers, and others of the meaner sort" should be exempt from punishment for the awful massacre, which Cromwell had already avenged; and prescribing graded punishments, under trial at law, of death, banishment, or confiscation of their estates, for those who held official positions or had influenced the atrocities against the Protestants. A Protestant Church of Ireland was likewise established, and the Puritan doctrines of righteousness and salvation were preached every Sunday from pulpits where Calvinistic Presbyterianism had never before been heard. In a large part of Ireland the ancient faith was well-nigh exterminated. This arrangement of order, piety, and peace was the "Curse" which Cromwell put upon the country, and even Lord Clarendon admits that Ireland never flourished to such an extent before.

He would have lingered in Ireland through the approaching summer, but affairs in Scotland would not wait.

He appointed his son-in-law, Henry Ireton, his Deputy Lord-Lieutenant. For Ireton’s judgment, vigor, and tact he entertained a high regard, and Ireton’s prosecution of the Irish work was brilliantly pressed forward until, on the 11^th of November, 1651, he died of the plague before the beleaguered walls of Limerick. Edmund Ludlow, who, in spite of the sour Memorials he has left us, was a valiant soldier of the Commonwealth, succeeded to the command of the Irish forces at the death of Ireton. Henry Cromwell was likewise appointed to continue in Ireland, where he acquitted himself with most admirable ability and courage. Leaving these men to subdue the last sparks of rebellion, Oliver Cromwell, having set the "Curse of Cromwell" on that land in such a way as to restore the distracted nation to peace and prosperity, embarked on board a Parliamentary frigate, and in the last days of May returned to England. He had killed men in the trade of war. Alas! many thousands of them had fallen before his sword. But his practice first and last was to offer quarter, and then, if resisted, to pursue his victory to the last extremity. He held with all successful Generals, that battles are fought to conquer, not to conciliate, the enemy. This was the extent of his "cruelties" in Ireland. He had been equally "cruel" in England at Marston Moor and Naseby, and he was soon to employ the same policy against the Scots at Dunbar and Worcester. Ireland, in spite of her woes, was never before so tranquil as in the days of his ascendency, nor has she ever since been so prosperous in her commerce and her industry.

Fairfax and the chief officers of the Army, with the members of Parliament and of the Council of State, met him on Hounslow Heath and escorted him to London. "What a crowd come out to see your Lordship’s triumph," said one of his admirers. "Yes," answered Oliver, with that dry humor which he was ever fond to indulge, "but if it were to see me hanged, how many more would there be!"

Scotland, Dunbar And Worcester

The heroic Marquis of Montrose, acting under a commission from Charles II, had returned to Scotland, followed by a troop of mercenary foreign soldiers, with the design of restoring that country to the authority of his royal master. Montrose had written a poem containing these lines, characteristic of his own daring soul:

"He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all."

The rise of the Independents in England had caused great consternation to the Presbyterian party in Scotland, and the execution of Charles I had pinched the conscience and wounded the vanity of the Scots, insomuch that many of their considerable men were now intriguing for the succession of the younger Charles to the Crown. Many assurances had secretly been given to Montrose that as soon as he should appear he would be joined by his old adherents and by many of the nobility who were ostensibly opposing him. Notwithstanding these promises, Argyle, who enjoyed at this time all the power of a dictator, prepared so comprehensively to crush his old enemy, that when Montrose landed in Scotland he found himself compelled to depend almost wholly upon his foreign battalion. The number of his men was small. Nearly a thousand of them had perished by shipwreck on the way over. He was entirely destitute of cavalry, and was thereby prevented from obtaining necessary intelligence of the enemy’s movements. The Earl of Sutherland, while marching to join him with fifteen hundred men, was intercepted by Argyle’s troops under General David Leslie and Colonel Strachan, and he immediately took service with them. The Covenanters surprised Montrose at Corbiesdale, when he had but six or seven hundred Germans and a few personal friends with him. His situation was entirely hopeless, but with the chivalrous courage which distinguished him as one of the most illustrious of the Cavaliers, he formed his soldiers for battle and fought until a hundred of them were killed and the rest ran away. He himself was taken prisoner, and, after receiving many indignities and oppressions from those who should have treated so eminent a man with the forms of decency, he was publicly hanged (May 21, 1650), his head was suspended on a pole, and his body was ignominiously buried beneath the gibbet. He was but thirty-eight years old at the time of his death.

While destroying in this cruel manner the man who carried the commission of Charles II as Lieutenant-General of Scotland, Argyle had formed a compact with Charles himself by which the young King was to be crowned in Scotland. Charles, after demurring for many months, had swallowed his prejudices and subscribed the Covenant with the insincerity and contempt which were characteristic of his family in their political performances. He wrote to the Committee of Estates, with all the ardor of a Presbyterian: "We have, with you, Religion, the Gospel, and the Covenant, against which Hell shall not prevail, much less a number of sectaries stirred up by it." The Royalists in the three kingdoms were encouraging this alliance as a source of deliverance; Charles finally went to Scotland, and was crowned King; and it was high time that the English Parliament should take alarm. It was now clear that they must either invade Scotland or be invaded by Scotland. They determined upon the former course.

Oliver Cromwell had returned to London on the 31^st of May, 1650. He desired Fairfax to lead the army into Scotland, but Fairfax, controlled by his Presbyterian wife, refused to go, and resigned his commission. Thereupon Cromwell was appointed (June 26) Captain-General and Commander-in-chief of all the forces raised or to be raised by authority of Parliament within the Commonwealth of England.

Fairfax was in some respects a good soldier, but he was woefully out of place in his nominal position of General. He gives this pitiable account of himself: "From the time they [the Army] declared their usurped authority at Triplow-Heath, I never gave my free consent to anything they did. But being yet undischarged of my place, they set my name in way of course to all their papers, whether I consented or not: and to such failings are all authorities subject. Under Parliamentary authority many injuries have been done; so here hath a General’s power been broken and crumbled into a leveling faction, yet even this, I hope, all impartial judges will interpret as force and ravishment of a good name, rather than a voluntary consent, which might make me equally criminal with that faction. And if, in a multitude of words, much more in a multitude of actions, there must be some transgressions, yet I can truly say, they were never designedly or wilfully committed by me." A Short Memorial, quoted by Harris, Life of Cromwell, p. 141. See the interview between Fairfax and Cromwell and the officers, in which they endeavored to persuade Fairfax to go with the Army to Scotland, in Whitelock, Vol. III, p. 207, who observes: "None of the committee [was] so earnest to persuade the General to continue his commission as Cromwell and the soldiers; yet there was cause enough to believe that they did not overmuch desire it."

While the Army preparations were going forward, Cromwell one day took Ludlow aside and discoursed to him about public affairs in that enthusiastic manner which led Sir Philip Warwick to scoff at him as the Inspired Seraphic Independent. In this interview Ludlow notes that Cromwell talked for almost an hour upon the 110^th Psalm. It was the General’s way of expressing his faith in the Providence of God. It was characteristic of him. It was characteristic of his party. The Psalm is short and reads thus:

"The Lord said unto my Lord: Sit thou at my right hand until I make thine enemies thy footstool. The Lord shall send the rod of thy strength out of Zion: rule thou in the midst of thine enemies. Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power; in the beauties of holiness, from the womb of the morning: Thou hast the dew of thy youth. The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, Thou art a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek. The Lord, at thy right hand, shall strike through Kings in the day of his wrath. He shall judge among the Heathen; he shall fill the places with the dead bodies; he shall wound the heads over many countries. He shall drink of the brook in the way: therefore shall he lift up the head."

While Cromwell is bustling amid the preparations for a new war, being deprived of the companionship of his family, he writes hastily to obtain the latest word from them. His son Richard—idle Dick—seems undutiful and neglectful. He has just become a father, and Oliver writes to Mr. Mayor in these words. Is there "hypocrisy," is there "cant" in these private utterances to those who were of his flesh and blood? Could any man write these wonderful letters and be a hypocrite?

"For my very loving Brother Richard Mayor, Esquire, at his House at Hursley: These.

"Alnwick, 17^th July, 1650.

"Dear Brother,

"The exceeding crowd of business I had at London is the best excuse I can make for my silence this way. Indeed, Sir, my heart beareth me witness I want no affection to you or yours; you are all often in my poor prayers.

"I should be glad to hear how the little Brat doth. I could chide both Father and Mother for their neglects of me: I know my Son is idle, but I had better thoughts of Doll [Dorothy]. I doubt now her husband hath spoiled her; pray tell her so from me. If I had as good leisure as they, I should write sometimes. If my Daughter be breeding, I will excuse her, but not for her nursery! The Lord bless them. I hope you give my Son good counsel; I believe he needs it. He is in the dangerous time of his age; and it’s a very vain world. O, how good it is to close with Christ betimes; there is nothing else worth the looking after. I beseech you call upon Him. I hope you will discharge my duty and your own love: you see how I am employed. I need pity. I know what I feel. Great place and business in the world is not worth the looking after; I should have no comfort in mine but that my hope is in the Lord’s presence. I have not sought these things; truly I have been called unto them by the Lord; and therefore am not without some assurance that He will enable His poor worm and weak servant to do His will, and to fulfil my generation. In this I desire your prayers. Desiring to be lovingly remembered to my dear Sister [Mayor’s wife], to our Son and Daughter, to my Cousin Ann and the good Family, I rest, your very affectionate brother,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Cromwell marched north on the 29^th of June, 1650—less than one month since his return from Ireland. His army numbered about sixteen thousand horse and foot. John Lambert, an officer who had attracted notice by his service at Marston Moor and Naseby, and was now only thirty-one years old, was his Major-General. Charles Fleetwood, afterwards his son-in-law, was General of the Horse. Whalley, his cousin, who had charge of the King’s person at the time Charles was permitted to escape from Hampton Court, was Commissary-General. Overton, Pride, and George Monk were among his colonels. His rank and file was composed of the flower of the Ironsides. John Rushworth accompanied him as his secretary.

By the 22^nd of July the Army had reached Berwick, the northernmost part of England, and crossed the Tweed. It then marched northward along the coast of Scotland to Dunbar, and thence to Musselburgh, a small town but six miles from Edinburgh. In the latter place Leslie was fortified with a strong army, and Cromwell endeavored to provoke him to fight; but Leslie, wary of the man who had won the victory at Marston Moor after he himself had lost it, would not appear now. A drenching rain and lack of provisions compelled Cromwell to draw back his forces, seeing which, Leslie attacked his rear, "and indeed," says Oliver, "had like to have engaged our rear brigade of horse with their whole army, had not the Lord by his Providence put a cloud over the moon, thereby giving us opportunity to draw off those horse to the rest of our army." Upon which, Leslie withdrew to his trenches. Cromwell writes:

"The Enemy, when we drew off, fell upon our rear; and put them into some little disorder: but our bodies of horse being in some readiness, came to a grabble with them; where indeed there was a gallant and hot dispute; the Major-General and Colonel Whalley being in the rear; and the Enemy drawing out great bodies to second their first affront. Our men charged them up to the very trenches, and beat them in. The Major-General’s horse was shot in the neck and head; himself run through the arm with a lance, and run into another place of his body, was taken prisoner by the Enemy, but rescued immediately by Lieutenant Empson of my regiment. Colonel Whalley, who was then nearest to the Major-General, did charge very resolutely; and repulsed the Enemy, and killed divers of them upon the place, and took some prisoners, without any considerable loss. Which indeed did so amaze and quiet them, that we marched off to Musselburgh, but they dared not send out a man to trouble us. We hear their young King looked on upon all this, but was very ill satisfied to see their men do no better."

Again he says:

"I did not think advisable to attempt upon the Enemy, lying as he doth: but surely this would sufficiently provoke him to fight if he had a mind to. I do not think he is less than six or seven thousand horse, and fourteen or fifteen thousand foot. The reason, I hear, that they give out to their people why they do not fight us, is, Because they expect many bodies of men more out of the North of Scotland; which when they come, they give out they will then engage. But I believe they would rather tempt us to attempt them in their fastness, within which they are entrenched; or else hoping we shall famish for want of provisions; which is very likely to be, if we be not timely and fully supplied."

Cromwell drew his officers about him and made them a characteristic discourse upon the greatness of the work that was to be performed. He spoke to them "as a Christian and a soldier," and besought them to be doubly and trebly diligent, to be worthy and wary, for sure enough, he said, they had work before them. But had they not had God’s blessing hitherto? "Then let us go on faithfully," he cried, "and hope for the like still!" The officers, who believed him to be, indeed, the "Inspired Seraphic Independent," received his words with acclamations. No man could come in contact with him and escape the magnetic spell of his enthusiasm. Every soldier in his army loved him and was fearless of any foe when he was on the field.

And Cromwell loved a jest. On that same evening of his discourse to the officers, he heard a great shout among the soldiers and looked out of the window. Some of the men had found a Scotch churn filled with rich cream, which they were greedily drinking from their iron hats. One fellow, who seemed afraid he would miss his portion, raised the churn to his mouth and attempted to drink from it; but another merrily pushed it up until it fell over his head, spilling the cream over his clothing, and sticking fast on his head like a great hat. Cromwell laughed heartily at the ludicrous sight.

On another occasion, when Cromwell rode out with a small guard to reconnoiter, a Scottish soldier from a concealed position discharged his carbine at him, but missed his mark. Cromwell called to him that if he had been one of his soldiers he would have cashiered him for firing at such a distance.

When he brought his troops before Hume Castle and demanded its surrender, the Governor answered, "I know not Cromwell; and as for my Castle, it is built on a rock." The guns were then turned upon the stronghold, which caused the doughty Governor to write this singular epistle to Cromwell:

"I, William of the Wastle,
Am now in my Castle;
And aw the dogs in the town
Shanna gar me gang down."

But his poetry brought forth such a shower of shot and shell that he soon abated his tone and made a hasty capitulation.

A "Paper War," the usual accompaniment of those unhappy strifes, then ensued. The Kirk of Scotland violently denounced Cromwell and the Independents through many bitter pamphlets, and Cromwell replied in letters of equal rancor and ability. In one of these papers he said:

"Indeed we are not, through the grace of God, afraid of your numbers, nor confident in ourselves. We could—I pray God you do not think we boast—meet your Army, or what you have to bring against us. We have given—humbly we speak it before our God, in whom all our hope is—some proof that thoughts of that kind prevail not upon us. The Lord hath not hid His face from us since our approach so near unto you."

And here come strange words from a General to an armed foe:

"Your own guilt is too much for you to bear: bring not therefore upon yourselves the blood of innocent men, deceived with pretences of King and Covenant; from whose eyes you hide a better knowledge! I am persuaded that divers of you, who lead the People, have laboured to build yourselves in these things; wherein you have censured others, and established yourselves ‘upon the Word of God.’ Is it therefore infallibly agreeable to the Word of God, all that you say? I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken. Precept may be upon precept, line may be upon line, and yet the Word of the Lord may be to some a Word of judgment; that they may fall backwards, and be broken, and be snared and be taken! There may be a spiritual fulness, which the World may call drunkenness; as in the second Chapter of Acts. There may be, as well, a carnal confidence upon misunderstood and misapplied precepts, which may be called spiritual drunkenness. There may be a Covenant made with Death and Hell! I will not say yours was so. But judge if such things have a politic aim: To avoid the overflowing scourge; or, To accomplish worldly interests? And if therein we have confederated with wicked and carnal men, and have respect for them, or otherwise have drawn them in to associate with us, Whether this be a Covenant of God, and spiritual? Bethink yourselves; we hope we do.

"I pray you read the Twenty-eighth of Isaiah, from the fifth to the fifteenth verse. And do not scorn to know that it is the Spirit that quickens and giveth life.

"The Lord give you and us understanding to do that which is well-pleasing in His sight. Committing you to the grace of God, I rest, your humble servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Here is the passage from Isaiah:

"In that day shall the Lord of Hosts be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue of His people. And for a spirit of judgment to him that sitteth in judgment, and for strength to them that turn the battle to the gate. But they also have erred through wine, and through strong drink are out of the way! The Priest and the Prophet have erred through strong drink; they are swallowed up of wine; they are out of the way through strong drink. They err in vision, they stumble in judgment. For all tables are full of vomit and filthiness; so that there is no place clean. Whom shall he teach knowledge? Whom shall he make to understand doctrine? Them that are weaned from the milk, and drawn from the breasts. For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here a little and there a little. For with stammering lips and another tongue will He speak to this people. To whom He said, This is the rest wherewith ye may cause the weary to rest, and this is the refreshment; yet they would not hear. But the Word of the Lord was unto them precept upon precept, line upon line, here a little and there a little, That they might go, and fall backward, and be broken and snared and taken! Wherefore hear ye the Word of the Lord, ye scornful men that rule this people which is in Jerusalem!"

We assume that honest David Leslie, the Scottish General, cherished but little real sympathy for the casuistries under which the Kirk theologians were endeavoring to reconcile austere Presbyterianism with the profligate branch of the Episcopalian party that was represented by the young King Charles. But Leslie, in a very brief letter, and with no relish for the business, forwarded to Cromwell, by command of the General Assembly, a Declaration, "wherein we are resolved," said Leslie, "by the Lord’s assistance, to fight your army when the Lord shall be pleased to call us thereunto." Unhappy Leslie! Upon him and upon his party Cromwell straightway pours out the vials of his wrath. He writes:

"But that under the pretence of the Covenant mistaken and wrested from the most native intent and equity thereof a King should be taken in by you, to be imposed upon us; and this [be] called ‘the Cause of God and the Kingdom’; and this done upon ‘the satisfaction of God’s People in both Nations,’ as is alleged, together with a disowning of Malignants; although he [Charles Stuart] who is the head of them, in whom all their hope and comfort lies, be received; who, at this very instant, hath a Popish Army fighting for and under him in Ireland; hath Prince Rupert, a man who hath had his hand deep in the blood of many innocent men of England, now in the head of our Ships, stolen from us upon a Malignant account; hath the French and Irish ships daily making depredations on our coasts; and strong combinations by the Malignants in England, to raise Armies in our bowels, by virtue of his commissions, who hath of late issued out very many to that purpose: How the [Godly] Interest you pretend to have received him upon, and the Malignant Interests in their ends and consequences [all] centring in this man, can be secured, we cannot discern! And how we should believe, that whilst known and notorious Malignants are fighting and plotting against us on the one hand, and you are declaring for him on the other, it should not be an ‘espousing of a Malignant Party’s Quarrel or Interest’; but be a mere ‘fighting upon former grounds and principles, and in defence of the Cause of God and the Kingdoms, as hath been these twelve years last past,’ as you say: how this should be ‘for the security and satisfaction of God’s People in both Nations’; or [how] the opposing of this should render us enemies to the Godly with you, we cannot well understand. Especially considering that all these Malignants take their confidence and encouragement from the late transactions of your Kirk and State with your King. For as we have already said, so we tell you again, It is but [some] satisfying security to those who employ us and [who] are concerned, that we seek. Which we conceive will not be by a few formal and feigned Submissions, from a Person [i.e. Charles II] that could not tell otherwise how to accomplish his Malignant ends, and [is] therefore counselled to this compliance, by them who assisted his Father, and have hitherto actuated himself in his most evil and desperate designs; designs which are now again by them set on foot. Against which, How you will be able, in the way you are in, to secure us or yourselves? [this it now] is (forasmuch as concerns ourselves) our duty to look after.

"If the state of your Quarrel be thus, upon which, as you say, you resolve to fight our Army, you will have opportunity to do that; else what means our abode here? And if our hope be not in the Lord, it will be ill with us. We commit both you and ourselves to Him who knows the heart and tries the reins; with whom are all our ways; who is able to do for us and you above what we know: Which we desire may be in much mercy to His poor People, and to the glory of His great Name."

One evening (July 28) Cromwell placed his army within a mile of Edinburgh, "so tired and wearied for want of sleep," said Cromwell, "and so dirty by reason of the wetness of the weather, that we expected the enemy would make an infall upon us." Whereupon Leslie endeavored to insert his troops between the Lord General and his supplies. At dawn of the next morning Cromwell perceived the dangerous situation. There were hasty marchings by both armies and a severe skirmish, but the English succeeded in regaining their quarters at Musselburgh. It became clear by this time that it was Leslie’s policy to remain in safety behind the walls of Edinburgh, and to tire out the strength and patience of his enemy. It was a wise design. Cromwell could not conveniently unload his provisions at Musselburgh, his men were falling sick, and, after exhausting every expedient to provoke an engagement, he was forced to retreat to Dunbar where there was a fine harbor and he could fortify himself for the winter and wait a chance for battle.

Dunbar is situated about thirty miles northeast of Edinburgh on high ground on the rockbound coast. The town is on a sort of peninsula, about a mile and a half across its breast from sea to sea; and to landward of it are huge hills which are impassable except by one road. As Oliver, with an uncomfortable sense of being in full retreat, passed through these hills, Leslie, leading an army of 23,000 men, followed him and blocked up the passes. On one side of the Parliamentary host was the sea, on the other side a range of unscalable hills and a hostile army. The ground on which they had set their tents was marked with plashes of water and rough bent grass. It was no suitable place for a fight. The Roundheads were in a trap.

For the first time in his life Cromwell was in despair, "being sensible of our disadvantages," he wrote, "and having some weakness of the flesh." His men now numbered scarce 11,000, and they were all conscious of the grave peril of their situation. Cromwell, standing for the first time in the presence of palpable defeat, wrote the following letter to Sir Arthur Hazelrig, plainly intimating his expectation of the annihilation of his command.

"To the Honourable Sir Arthur Hazelrig, at Newcastle or elsewhere: These. Haste, haste.

"Dunbar, 2^nd September, 1650.

"Dear Sir:

"We are upon an Engagement very difficult. The Enemy hath blocked-up our way at the pass at Copperspath, through which we cannot get without almost a miracle. He lieth so much upon the Hills that we know not how to come that way without great difficulty; and our lying here daily consumeth our men, who fall sick beyond imagination.

"I perceive, your forces are not in a capacity for present release. Wherefore, whatever becomes of us, it will be well for you to get what forces you can together, and the South to help what they can. The business nearly concerneth all Good People. If your forces had been in a readiness to have fallen upon the back of Copperspath, it might have occasioned supplies to have come to us. But the only wise God knows what is best. All shall work for Good. Our spirits are comfortable, praised be the Lord, though our present condition be as it is. And indeed we have much hope in the Lord; of whose mercy we have had large experience.

"Indeed, do you get together what forces you can against them. Send to friends in the South to help with more. Let H. Vane know what I write. I would not make it public, lest danger should accrue thereby. You know what use to make hereof. Let me hear from you. I rest, your servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

"P. S.: It’s difficult for me to send to you. Let me hear from you after you receive this."

His position was indeed very similar to that of Essex in 1644, when he surrendered his army to Charles on the Cornwall promontory. But before Cromwell had dispatched his letter to Hazelrig, Leslie brought his troops down to the foot of the hills and placed them in such a position that the practiced eye of the Puritan leader joyfully discerned that there was still a chance for victory. He called quickly to Lambert and Monk, who likewise perceived the error of the Scottish formation.

Between the two armies a wide and deep brook ran. Far on the left of Cromwell’s men there was a ford except at which the stream was impassable. Leslie placed his foot near this ford and then surrounded them with his horse, concentrating the full strength of his army on this right wing. Cromwell believed that if he could but pass over the ford he would be able to strike such a blow on the foot soldiers as would force them back upon their own horse and throw the whole into confusion. To cross the ford first would be a point of vantage. With the armies in these postures the night fell.

An English soldier, who strayed too near this ford, was captured and taken before General Leslie. "Soldier," asked the General, "how will you fight, when you have shipped half of your men, and all your great guns?" "Sir," replied the Roundhead, "if you please to draw down your men, you shall find both men and great guns too!" An officer demanded how he dare answer the General so saucily. "Sir," he said, "I only answer the question put to me." Leslie set him at liberty, and he returned across the brook to Cromwell, complaining that he had been plundered of twenty shillings, which Cromwell made good to him from his own pocket.

Early on the morning of Tuesday, September 3, soon after three o’clock, the English were astir. The Lord General had explained his plan, and selected Lambert, Fleetwood, Whalley, and Monk to lead the charge. It was indeed victory or destruction. Lambert was slow to leave his tent, and Cromwell chafed at the delay. But by four o’clock the Ironsides were at the ford—were passing over. "They were actuated," said Cromwell, "with as much courage as ever hath been seen in any action since this war." There was a loud alarm in the Scottish camp. Their bugles called their men to arms. Before they were well aware of it, the English were upon them. The Roundhead horse were bravely met by the Scottish foot. Leslie’s men had hardly time to light their gun-matches. They were forced to use sword and pike. Oliver’s foot came across the stream and were bravely repulsed. Whalley’s horse was killed under him, but he quickly mounted another. They charged again, and the fight raged for nearly an hour. The Scottish horse attempted an onset, but were so fairly in the rear of their own infantry that they could make little headway. "The Covenant, the Covenant!" cried the Scots, now beginning to give ground. "The Lord of Hosts!" answered the English, "The Lord of Hosts!" Just then the tardy sun rose far out in the distant ocean. Oliver saw it. "Let God arise!" he shouted, "Let his enemies be scattered!" Old Noll, as the soldiers loved to call him, was in the heat of the battle, directing every movement of his men. "They run! I profess they run!" he cried. They were indeed beginning to yield. The words of the 117^th Psalm sprang from the lips of the enthusiastic conqueror; to his warring hosts it sounded like a hymn of battle. "O! praise the Lord, all ye nations; praise him, all ye people!" he cried. "For his merciful kindness is great towards us; and the truth of the Lord endureth forever. Praise ye the Lord!" The troops caught the psalm from his lips and repeated it. He pressed to the front; once more the Roundheads charged—and won. The pursuit and slaughter were kept up for eight miles. Three thousand Scots were slain. Ten thousand of them were taken prisoners. All their artillery, ammunition, colors, and stores, and 15,000 arms, were captured. Leslie was foremost in the flight—he got to Edinburgh, thirty miles away, by nine o’clock that morning. The power of the Scots was crushed. The young King, who, before the Scots would fight for him, had been forced to sign a disgraceful declaration acknowledging that his late father had been justly punished for his sins, fled in terror to the Highlands. The English had won their victory by their gallant and invincible charge; they lost not over a score of men in the battle.

On the day after this victory Oliver wrote to his wife this touching letter:

"For my beloved Wife Elizabeth Cromwell, at the Cockpit: These.

"Dunbar, 4^th September, 1650.

"My Dearest,

"I have not leisure to write much. But I could chide Thee that in many of thy Letters thou writest to me, That I should not be unmindful of thee and thy little ones. Truly, if I love you not too well, I think I err not on the other hand much. Thou art dearer to me than any creature; let that suffice.

"The Lord hath showed us an exceeding mercy—who can tell how great it is! My weak faith hath been upheld. I have been in my inward man marvellously supported; though I assure thee, I grow an old man, and feel infirmities of age marvellously stealing upon me. [He was now 51 years old.] Would my corruptions as fast decrease! Pray on my behalf in the latter respect.

"The particulars of our late success Harry Vane or Gilbert Pickering will impart to thee. My love to all dear friends. I rest thine,

"Oliver Cromwell."

He appears unable to express his joy and thankfulness in the victory too fervently. Writing to Richard Cromwell’s father-in-law, he says:

"I desire my love may be presented to my dear sister Mayor’s wife, and to all your family. I pray tell Doll I do not forget her nor her little Brat. She writes very cunningly and complimentally to me; I expect a letter of plain dealing from her. She is too modest to tell me whether she breeds or not. I wish a blessing upon her and her husband. The Lord make them fruitful in all that’s good. They are at leisure to write often; but indeed they are both idle and worthy of blame."

He seemed to yearn for frequent letters from his family, and they seemed to write all too infrequently.

The same day he wrote to Ireton, who was winning rapid victories in Ireland, and was soon to die there:

"We have been engaged upon a service the fullest of trial ever poor creatures were upon. We made great professions of love; knowing we were to deal with many who were Godly, and [who] pretended to be stumbled at our Invasion: indeed, our bowels were pierced again and again; the Lord helped us to sweet words, and in sincerity to mean them. We were rejected again and again; yet still we begged to be believed that we loved them as our own souls; they often returned evil for good. We prayed for security: [against young Charles Stuart’s designs.] they would not hear or answer a word to that. We made often appeals to God; they appealed also. We were near engagements three or four times, but they lay upon advantages. A heavy flux fell upon our Army; brought it very low, from Fourteen to Eleven thousand: Three-thousand five-hundred horse, and Seven-thousand five-hundred foot. The enemy Sixteen-thousand foot, and Six-thousand horse."

After writing to the Parliament a full account of his operations in Scotland up to this time, he spoke in these eloquent terms of the duties of the hour. He believed that the promise "The saints shall possess the earth" was in course of fulfillment, and his words sound like those of the ancient Prophets, with whom, indeed, he felt his spirit to be in kindred intercourse:

"Thus you have the prospect of one of the most signal mercies God hath done for England and His People, this War—and now may it please you to give me the leave of a few words. It is easy to say, The Lord hath done this. It would do you good to see and hear our poor foot to go up and down making their boast of God. But, Sir, it’s in your hands, and by these imminent mercies God puts it more into your hands, To give glory to Him; to improve your power, and His blessings, to His praise. We that serve you beg of you not to own us, but God alone. We pray you own His people more and more; for they are the chariots and horsemen of Israel. Disown yourselves—but own your Authority; and improve it to curb the proud and the insolent, such as would disturb the tranquillity of England, though under what specious pretences soever. Relieve the oppressed, hear the groans of poor prisoners in England. Be pleased to reform the abuses of all professions—and if there be any one that makes many poor to make a few rich, that suits not the Commonwealth. If He that strengthens your servants to fight, please to give you hearts to set upon these things, in order to His glory, and the glory of your Commonwealth, [then] besides the benefit England shall feel thereby, you shall shine forth to other Nations, who shall emulate the glory of such a pattern, and through the power of God turn—in to the like!

"These are our desires. And that you may have liberty and opportunity to do these things, and not to be hindered, we have been and shall be (by God’s assistance) willing to venture our lives; and [will] not desire you should be precipitated by importunities, from your care of safety and preservation; but that the doing of these things may have their place amongst those which concern well-being, and so be wrought in their time and order.

"Since we came in Scotland, it hath been our desire and longing to have avoided blood in this business; by reason that God hath a people here fearing His name, though deceived. And to that end have we offered much love unto such, in the bowels of Christ; and concerning the truth of our hearts therein, have we appealed unto the Lord. The Ministers of Scotland have hindered the passage of these things to the hearts of those to whom we intended them. And now we hear, that not only the deceived people, but some of the Ministers are also fallen in this Battle. This is the great hand of the Lord, and worthy of the consideration of all those who take into their hands the instruments of a foolish shepherd—to wit, meddling with worldly policies, and mixtures of earthly power, to set up that which they call the Kingdom of Christ, which is neither it, nor, if it were it, would such means be found effectual to that end—and neglect, or trust not to, the Word of God, the Sword of the Spirit; which is alone powerful and able for the setting up of that Kingdom; and, when trusted to, will be found effectually able to that end, and will also do it! This is humbly offered for their sakes who have lately too much turned aside: that they might return again to preach Jesus Christ, according to the simplicity of the Gospel; and then no doubt they will discern and find your protection and encouragement. Beseeching you to pardon this length, I humbly take leave; and rest, Sir, your most obedient servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Cromwell marched back to Edinburgh, in triumph entered the city this time, and began another "Paper War" with the preachers who were shut up in the Castle far above him. In this controversy he drives home the fact that they have departed from the Puritan fold by their resumption of the Stuart allegiance. He said:

"And although they [the Scottish Ministers] seem to comfort themselves with being sons of Jacob, from whom (they say) God hath hid His face for a time; yet it’s no wonder when the Lord hath lifted up His hand so eminently against a Family as He hath done so often against this [the Stuart Family], and men will not see His hand, it’s no wonder if the Lord hide His face from such; putting them to shame both for it and their hatred of His people, as it is this day. When they purely trust to the Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, which is powerful to bring down strongholds and every imagination that exalts itself—which alone is able to square and fit the stones for the new Jerusalem—then and not before, and by that means and no other, shall Jerusalem, the City of the Lord, which is to be the praise of the whole Earth, be built; the Sion of the Holy One of Israel."

The Scottish pamphleteers had said some harsh things about the late King’s execution, which stirred Cromwell to speak his mind boldly as to that, and the new government in England:

"Now if the Civil Authority, or that part of it which continued faithful to their trust [an allusion to Pride’s Purge], and true to the ends of the Covenant, did, in answer to their consciences, turn-out a Tyrant, in a way which the Christians in after times will mention with honour, and all Tyrants in the world look at with fear; and [if] while many thousands of saints in England rejoice to think of it, and have received from the hand of God a liberty from the fear of like usurpations, and have cast-off him [young Charles Stuart] who trod in his Father’s steps, doing mischief as far as he was able (whom you have received like fire into your bosom, of which God will, I trust, in time make you sensible): if, I say, Ministers railing at the Civil Power, and calling them murderers and the like for doing these things, have been dealt with as you mention, will this be found a ‘personal persecution’? Or is sin so, because they say so? They that acted this great business (the King’s Execution) have given a reason of their faith in the action; and some here are ready farther to do it against all gainsayers."

When the Scottish ministers attempted to reprove the English Puritans, and made themselves "the judges and determiners of sin," Cromwell said:

"This [method of censure] was not practised by the church since our Saviour’s time, till Antichrist, assuming the Infallible Chair, and all that he called Church to be under him, practised this authoritatively over civil governors. The way to fulfill your ministry with joy is to preach the Gospel; which I wish some who take pleasure in reproofs at a venture, do not forget too much to do."

In the midst of his solemn polemics, he strikes out some wise truths of public policy:

"Indeed, you err through mistaking of the Scriptures. Approbation is an act of conveniency in respect of order; not of necessity, to give faculty to preach the Gospel. Your pretended fear lest Error should step in, is like the man who would keep all the wine out of the country lest men should be drunk. It will be found an unjust and unwise jealousy, to deprive a man of his natural liberty upon a supposition he may abuse it. When he doth abuse it, judge. If a man speak foolishly, ye suffer him gladly because ye are wise; if erroneously, the truth more appears by your conviction [of him.] Stop such a man’s mouth by sound words which cannot be gainsayed. If he speak blasphemously, or to the disturbance of the public peace, let the Civil Magistrate punish him: if truly, rejoice in the truth. And if you will call our speakings together since we came into Scotland—to provoke one another to love and good works, to faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, and repentance from dead works; [and] to charity and love towards you, to pray and mourn for you, and for your bitter returns to our love of you, and your incredulity of our professions of love to you, of the truth of which we have made our solemn and humble appeals to the Lord our God, which He hath heard and borne witness to: if you will call [these things] scandalous to the Kirk, and against the Covenant, because done by men of Civil callings—we rejoice in them, notwithstanding what you say."

It must be repeated, Cromwell was not a man of blood. He had treated the Scottish people with great leniency, and he vainly hoped by the power of his pen to convert them to his own Independent theology, rather than to compel their obedience to England by military conquest. He wrote to the Council of State:

"I am in great hopes, through God’s mercy, we shall be able this Winter to give the People such an understanding of the justness of our Cause, and our desires for the just liberties of the People, that the better sort of them will be satisfied therewith; although, I must confess, hitherto they continue obstinate. I thought I should have found in Scotland a conscientious People, and a barren country: about Edinburgh it is as fertile for corn as any part of England; but the People generally (are so) given to the most impudent lying and frequent swearing, as is incredible to be believed."

On the 24^th of December the great castle was surrendered to him, together with a store of ordnance more vast than could be found in any other stronghold in Scotland.

The praying quality of Cromwell’s godly men and his high appreciation of piety in the Army, are shown in a letter which the Lord General wrote to Colonel Hacker, refusing to appoint one Captain Hubbert to a place then held by Captain Empson:

"I pray let Captain Hubbert know I shall not be unmindful of him, and that no disrespect is intended to him. But indeed I was not satisfied with your last speech to me about Empson, That he was a better preacher than fighter or soldier,-or words to that effect. Truly I think he that prays and preaches best will fight best. I know nothing [that] will give like courage and confidence as the knowledge of God and Christ will; and I bless God to see any in this Army able and willing to impart the knowledge they have, for the good of others. And I expect it to be encouraged, by all the Chief Officers in this Army especially; and I hope you will do so. I pray receive Captain Empson lovingly; I dare assure you he is a good man and a good officer; I would we had no worse."

His wife at London is proud of his career and writes him (December 27) intimating that it will advance his interest if he write occasionally to Oliver St. John, now Lord Chief justice, and to John Bradshaw, now President of the Council of State [her letter is quoted in Chapter 1]. Letters also came from London informing him of his appointment as Chancellor of the University of Oxford, a compliment which pleased him much, and called forth this letter:

"To the Reverend Dr. Greenwood, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford, and other Members of the Convocation.

"Edinburgh, 4^th Feb., 1650.

"Honoured Gentlemen:

"I have received by the hands of those worthy Persons of your University sent by you into Scotland, a Testimony of very high respect and honour, in [your] choosing me to be your Chancellor. Which deserves a fuller return, of deep resentment [appreciation], value and acknowledgement, than I am any ways able to make. Only give me a little to expostulate, on your and my own behalf. I confess it was in your freedom to elect, and it would be very uningenuous in me to reflect upon your action; only (though somewhat late) let me advise you of my unfitness to answer the ends of so great a Service and Obligation, with some things very obvious.

"I suppose a principal aim in such elections hath not only respected abilities and interest to serve you, but freedom [as] to opportunities of time and place. As the first may not be well supposed, so the want of the latter may well become me to represent to you. You know where Providence hath placed me for the present; and to what I am related if this call were off [Lord Lieutenant of Ireland], I being tied to attendance in another Land as much out of the way of serving you as this, for some certain time yet to come appointed by the Parliament. The known esteem and honour of this place is such, that I should wrong it and your favour very much, and your freedom in choosing me, if, either by pretended modesty or in any unbenign way, I should dispute the acceptance of it. Only I hope it will not be imputed to me as a neglect towards you, that I cannot serve you in the measure I desire.

"I offer these exceptions with all the candour and clearness to you, as [leaving you] most free to mend your choice in case you think them reasonable; and shall not reckon myself the less obliged to do all good offices for the University. But if these prevail not, and that I must continue this honour, until I can personally serve you, you shall not want my prayers That that seed and stock of Piety and Learning, so marvellously springing up amongst you, may be useful to that great and glorious Kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ; of the approach of which so plentiful an effusion of the Spirit upon those hopeful plants is one of the best presages. And in all other things I shall, by the Divine assistance, improve my poor abilities and interests in manifesting myself, to the University and yourselves, your most cordial friend and servant,

"Oliver Cromwell."

In February, 1651, he was stricken down by a dangerous sickness—the "infirmities of age" were indeed stealing upon him. His friends in England, including the Parliament and the Council of State, were greatly alarmed. But he recovered his strength and health, and wrote this letter to Bradshaw:

"Indeed, my Lord, your service needs not me; I am a poor creature; and have been a dry bone; and am still an unprofitable servant to my Master and you. I thought I should have died of this fit of sickness; but the Lord seemeth to dispose otherwise. But truly, my Lord, I desire not to live, unless I may obtain mercy from the Lord to approve my heart and life to Him in more faithfulness and thankfulness, and [to] those I serve in more profitableness and diligence. And I pray God, your Lordship, and all in public trust, may improve all those unparalleled experiences of the Lord’s wonderful workings in your sight, with singleness of heart to His glory, and the refreshment of His People; who are to Him as the apple of His eye; and upon whom your enemies, both former and latter, who have fallen before you, did split themselves."

At the same period he wrote to his wife—wrote often to her doubtless, but too few of his family letters have been preserved. Those that do exist are profoundly attractive, illuminating as they do the secret soul of Cromwell. Of the persons referred to, "Betty" and "him" are his daughter Elizabeth and Claypole, her husband; "the Lord Herbert" is Henry Somerset, eldest son of the Marquis of Worcester, a Protestant only because the times made it expedient to be one, and therefore to be avoided:

"For my beloved Wife Elizabeth Cromwell, at the Cockpit: These.

"Edinburgh, 12^th April, 1651.

"My Dearest:

"I praise the Lord I am increased in strength in my outward man. But that will not satisfy me except I get a heart to love and serve my heavenly Father better; and I get more of the light of His countenance, which is better than life, and more power over my corruptions: in these hopes I wait, and am not without expectation of a gracious return. Pray for me; truly I do daily for thee and the dear Family; and God Almighty bless you with all His spiritual blessings.

"Mind poor Betty of the Lord’s great mercy. Oh, I desire her not only to seek the Lord in her necessity, but in deed and in truth to turn to the Lord; and to keep close to Him; and to take heed of a departing heart, and of being cozened with worldly vanities and worldly company, which I doubt she is too subject to. I earnestly and frequently pray for her and for him. Truly they are dear to me, very dear; and I am in fear lest Satan should deceive them, knowing how weak our hearts are, and how subtle the adversary is, and what way the deceitfulness of our hearts and the vain world make for his temptations. The Lord give them truth of heart to Him. Let them seek Him in truth, and they shall find Him.

"My love to the dear little ones; I pray for grace for them. I thank them for their letters; let me have them often.

"Beware of my Lord Herbert’s resort to your house. If he do so, it may occasion scandal, as if I were bargaining with him. Indeed, be wise—you know my meaning. Mind Sir Henry Vane of the business of my estate. Mr. Floyd knows my whole mind in that matter.

"If Dick Cromwell and his Wife be with you, my dear love to them. I pray for them: they shall, God willing, hear from me. I love them very dearly. Truly I am not able as yet to write much. I am very weary; and rest, thine,

"Oliver Cromwell."

And here is another, the last that we have from this husband to his wife:

"For my beloved Wife Elizabeth Cromwell, at the Cockpit: These.

"Edinburgh, 3^rd May, 1651.

"My Dearest:

"I could not satisfy myself to omit this post, although I have not much to write; yet indeed I love to write to my Dear, who is very much in my heart. It joys me to hear thy soul prospereth: the Lord increase His favours to thee more and more. The great good thy soul can wish is, That the Lord lift upon thee the light of His countenance, which is better than life. The Lord bless all thy good counsel and example to all those about thee, and hear all thy prayers, and accept thee always.

"I am glad to hear thy Son and Daughter are with thee. I hope thou wilt have some good opportunity of good advice to him. Present my duty to my Mother, my love to all the Family. Still pray for thine,

"Oliver Cromwell."

Some of the good people of Durham had petitioned the Parliament to convert "the houses of the late Dean and Chapter," in the city of Durham into a college or school of literature, but the matter had slumbered while more active affairs flour. fished. It is evidence of the common respect that was held for Cromwell’s liberal mind that those who were pushing the college establishment now made a perilous midwinter journey to Edinburgh to secure his co-operation in the scheme. He entered into the project with hearty accord, and wrote to Speaker Lenthall in these terms:

"Truly it seems to me a matter of great concernment and importance; as that which, by the blessing of God, may such conduce to the promoting of learning and piety in those poor rude and ignorant parts; there being also many concurring advantages to this Place, as pleasantness and aptness of situation, healthful air and plenty of provisions, which seem to favour and plead for their desires therein. And besides the good, so obvious to us, [which] those Northern Counties may reap thereby, who knows but the setting on foot this work at this time may suit with God’s present dispensations; and may—if due care and circumspection be used in the right constituting and carrying-on the same—tend to, and by the blessing of God produce, such happy and glorious fruits as are scarce thought on or foreseen."

Upon the receipt of his letter there was some further debate concerning the school, but it was put aside until seven years later, when, in the fulness of his own power, he erected a seat of learning at Durham with considerate generosity to its necessities.

He marched near to Stirling, where Charles II and the remnant of the Scottish Army were in winter quarters, but finding them too strongly fortified, and the weather terribly severe, he returned to Edinburgh and passed the winter there. In April he marched west and entered Glasgow where his Army spent ten days. He was again thrown into a violent sickness—the third attack this winter. The disease was an ague; and the Council of State was instructed by the Parliament to request him to return to England for milder air. Two physicians were sent from London to see him. But he was undaunted in the face of sickness, and wrote thus hopefully:

"I shall not need to recite the extremity of my last sickness: it was so violent that indeed my nature was not able to bear the weight thereof. But the Lord was pleased to deliver me, beyond expectation; and to give me cause to say once more ‘He hath plucked me out of my grave!’ My Lord, the indulgence of the Parliament expressed by their Order is a very high and undeserved favour: of which although it be fit I keep a thankful remembrance, yet I judge it would be too much presumption in me to return a particular acknowledgement. I beseech you give me the boldness to return my humble