CHAPTER XII.

TRIUMPHS OF THE COMMONWEALTH BY LAND AND SEA.--(1649-1652.)

True dispatch is a rich thing; for time is the measure of business, as money is of wares.--BACON.

The Commons now formally abolished the House of Lords (19th March), and settled the government as a ‘commonwealth or free state’ (19th May, 1649). A Republican government is more or less democratical according to the number of those that are privileged to take part in it, either directly as rulers, or indirectly as electors. The government now established under the name of a republic was, in fact, a close oligarchy, and not so popular in constitution as the monarchy which it had overthrown. The body that exercised both the legislative and executive functions numbered about 120, and of these there were rarely more than fifty present at a debate. Though these members had been elected more than eight years ago, and represented but a small fraction of the nation, they had the power of refusing all share in the government to any but their own partisans, while they could not themselves be legally removed without their own consent. Yet, if the Republican ideal was to be carried into act, it had to be done by this remnant of a Parliament. The dissolution of the House involved too great a risk. If all the electors were allowed to take part in choosing a new representative, the majority of members would be Presbyterians and Royalists; if, on the other hand, Presbyterian and Royalist electors were disfranchised, the army officers would get an assembly which only represented themselves. Under these circumstances, both the honest men in the House and the self-interested were agreed in wishing to avoid a dissolution--the former, such as Vane, Martin, Ludlow, Hutchinson, and Bradshaw, because they thought that, in founding a republic, they were rendering their country an incalculable benefit; the latter, either through desire of power in the future, or fear of consequences for the past. “We slipped into circumstances by degrees,” says the lawyer Whitelock, one of these followers with the stream, “by little and little plunging further in, until we knew not how to get out again.”[174] To carry on the executive for the present a council of state was appointed, containing forty-one of the most influential men in the army and the House.

%THE REPUBLIC--ITS ENEMIES.%

The Commonwealth had so many enemies that, but for the support of Cromwell and the army, it could not have stood for a day. At home it was threatened with danger alike from the country people and the Levellers: abroad it was threatened from Scotland, where the Prince of Wales had been proclaimed king of the three countries (Feb. 12th); from Ireland, where Ormond was still supreme; from the Channel, which Rupert held with the revolted ships; and from Europe at large, whose princes refused to recognize the rule of Republican rebels. The Emperor of Russia drove English merchants out of his dominions. The foreign representatives of the Commonwealth were assassinated. Dr. Dorislaus, the agent of the Republic to the States of Holland, was murdered by six Scotch followers of Montrose the very evening of his arrival at the Hague (May 3rd). A like fate befell Ascham, the agent of the Commonwealth to Spain. Two days after his arrival at Madrid, six men entered his chamber while he was at dinner, and, taking off their hats, saluted the company with the words, “Welcome, gallants, welcome!” Ascham rose, thinking them to be friends, and in another moment lay dead on the floor along with one of his companions. Out of the six criminals the Spanish government brought but one to justice. These disgraceful murders of “the things called ambassadors” were open subjects of rejoicing with Royalist exiles.

%EIKON BASILIKE.%

The Commonwealth, while thus attacked by its open enemies abroad, found no support among the masses at home. The immediate result of Charles’ execution was to produce a revulsion of feeling in his favour. His faults were buried in his grave; his private virtues lived after him. A book was published, entitled Eikôn Basilikê, or the Royal Image, which professed to be written by Charles himself during his captivity at Carisbrooke Castle. In it the theory of Divine Right was pictured in its softest colours. Without abating one jot or tittle of the king’s high pretensions as ruling by the will of God, Charles was portrayed as the father of his people, the lover of the established laws and of Parliaments, yielding in all points to the desires of his subjects, save where conscience and honour forbade. Against such a prince the people had taken up arms, misled by a few bold, bad men acting from love of power, blind party passions, and greed to satisfy their own necessities out of the lands and revenues of the Church. By these men the king’s acts had been misrepresented, his good faith unreasonably questioned, but he remained frank and generously forgiving as ever. In his instructions to his son he is represented as bidding him entertain no dislike of Parliaments, but remember that the rebels had acted from misapprehension of their own good. In the prayers with which each chapter of the book closes, he is found beseeching God to bestow upon his enemies repentance and pardon, in place of punishment for the sin of fighting against God’s anointed. For himself, let what would happen, he could still patiently submit to God’s chastening hand, in the full assurance that his Saviour’s crown of thorns was more precious than any crown of gold. Though in fact a forgery of Doctor Gauden, the book produced as great an effect as if it had proceeded from Charles’ own hand. 48,000 copies of this Image of the Martyr-King were sold in a year.[175]

To increase the reaction in the king’s favour, famine appeared in many parts of the country. The present Commonwealth and the late government of the two Houses were associated in the mind of the people with a standing army and heavy taxes;[176] Charles’ rule with the happy memories of unbroken peace. Tales of distress often came before the House--of a town reduced almost to penury, because the commander of the garrison, left unprovided by the government, was forced to allow the soldiers to live at free quarters; of tumults against the tax-gatherers, in which the starving people declared “that they would leave their wives and children to be maintained by the gentry, for the bread was eaten out of their mouths by the taxes.”[177]

%MUTINY OF LEVELLERS.%

From all this discontent the Republicans had little to fear, so long as the army remained faithful. Discontent, however, was widespread there. A successful revolution, however much it offends moderates, must disappoint extremes. Fifth Monarchists, Levellers, Anabaptists, found that neither the equality of men nor the millennium had come with the Republic. Petitions came that the House should dissolve in August; that new parliaments should be held every year; that excise and customs should be abolished; that the law and the church should be reformed; and, lastly, that none should pay rent or homage to fellow-creatures. Aroused by hunger or belief in natural right, bands of men began to dig and plant unenclosed lands. Pamphlets and papers were published supporting the principles of the Levellers. “The gentry,” it was said, “held all authority and command, and drove on designs for their own interest and the people’s slavery. The nobles, who had come in with William the Conqueror, had seized the lands of the people and forced the king to consent to laws necessary to preserve themselves, but had never acted from any love to the poor Commons.” The impracticable Lilburne, the leader and mouthpiece of all the discontented, published tract after tract to stir up the soldiers to mutiny by attacking the ambition of the officers and the tyranny of the House. “The officers,” he wrote, “are inferior to the essential part of the army, the soldiery, and ought to be controlled and overthrown when they try to overthrow and control the soldiery. We were before ruled by a King, Lords, and Commons; now by a General, a Court-Martial, and a House of Commons. We are but under an old cheat, the transmutation of names, but with the addition of new tyrannies to the old; and the last state of this Commonwealth is worse than the first.”

The moment was critical. Prince Charles was invited to Ireland, and, should he land the Irish army in England in the midst of all this surging discontent, Presbyterians and Royalists might rise and defeat an army and party divided against itself. To meet the danger at its source, the Council of State appointed Cromwell commander-in-chief, with orders to make an expedition against Ireland. The soldiers, however, now refused to obey the orders of their officers, and broke out into open mutiny. In Oxfordshire, in Gloucestershire, in Wiltshire, bodies of men marched off from their head-quarters in arms. Fairfax, however, and his officers followed closely on the insurgents, who within a fortnight were all either taken prisoners or defeated and dispersed. The last body of mutineers had marched north from Salisbury, forded the Thames, and reached Burford, in Oxfordshire. Fairfax was at Andover, but, by a march of fifty miles in the day, he surprised them the same evening in their quarters. The larger part of the army had, in fact, remained faithful to their generals, who could be tender, without being weak, stern, without being cruel, so that their soldiers loved and respected them accordingly. “Those,” said Cromwell, “that thought martial law a burden should have liberty to lay down their arms, and be paid their arrears the same as those that stayed; for the rest, the Parliament would in time do all that they desired.” Of the Burford mutineers, out of 400 prisoners, every tenth man was condemned by court-martial to be shot. The sentence was only executed upon three; the others felt grateful for the mercy extended to them: Cromwell’s words brought them to their reason; the men repented, and their leader confessed that many of his party “were so enraged against the Parliament that he did think (in his conscience) there would have been great cruelty exercised by these men, and that it was a happy hour they were surprised and prevented.”

%STORMING OF DROGHEDA.%

Meantime the Duke of Ormond had effected a peace with the Catholics in Ireland by promising them, in the name of Charles Stuart, the free exercise of their religion (Jan., 1649). He had further succeeded in uniting in the Prince’s favour all four parties in the island--the Irish Catholics; the Catholic descendants of the old English settlers; English Episcopalians, whether fugitive Royalists or men whose fathers had been planted by Elizabeth and James on the lands of Irish rebels; and, lastly, the Scotch Presbyterians of the Ulster settlement. Accordingly, when Cromwell arrived in Ireland at the head of 12,000 men, he found almost the whole country under the power of the Royalists (Aug. 15th). A Parliamentary garrison in Dublin itself had only escaped a siege by surprising the enemy on the banks of the Liffey (Aug. 2nd). The general first marched against Drogheda, then called Droghdagh or Tredah, and summoned the garrison to surrender. Sir Arthur Ashton, the governor, refused; he had 3000 of the choicest troops of the confederates and enough provisions to enable him to hold out till winter should compel the enemy to raise the siege. But within twenty-four hours the English batteries had made a breach in the wall. Oliver, after twice seeing his soldiers beaten off, led them on in person and carried the breach. A terrible massacre followed. “Being in the heat of action I forbade them,” Cromwell wrote in his despatch to the Parliament, “to spare any that were in arms in the town; and I think that night they put to the sword about 2000 men.” Of these, one-half probably fell in the streets; the other half Cromwell describes as having been slain at early dawn in St. Peter’s Church. This he looks upon as a judgment for their previous proceedings there. “It is remarkable,” he writes, “that these people at first set up the mass in some places of the town that had been monasteries; but afterwards grew so insolent that, the last Lord’s day before the storm, the Protestants were thrust out of the great church called St. Peter’s, and they had public mass there; and in this very place near 1000 of them were put to the sword, fleeing thither for safety. I believe all the friars were knocked on the head promiscuously but two.” Of the original garrison of 3000, many must have fallen in the defence; and of the remainder who escaped for that night, the officers were ‘knocked on the head,’ and the soldiers mostly shipped for Barbadoes. “I am persuaded,” he further writes, “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.... 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.”

Royalist accounts assert that many hundreds of women and children were slain in St. Peter’s Church. It is, of course, possible that some of the townspeople, fleeing thither for safety, lost their lives in the general massacre of the garrison. There is, however, no trustworthy witness[178] for any lives being taken except those of soldiers and friars. Cromwell did not sanction the killing of any but those with arms in their hands, though he seems to have approved of the fate of the friars. The fanatical zeal of his letter, and the fact that he takes the full credit or discredit for the slaughter of the garrison, makes it improbable that he concealed anything; and this is substantiated by his subsequent declaration, in which he gives this challenge:--“Give us an instance of one man, since my coming into Ireland, not in arms, massacred, destroyed, or banished, concerning the massacre or the destruction of whom justice hath not been done, or endeavoured to be done.”

%IRISH CAMPAIGN.%

With the enemy’s troops Cromwell carried out the determined mode of warfare which he began at Drogheda. They were mostly scattered over the country, occupied in garrison duty. Before whatever town he came he demanded immediate surrender, or threatened to refuse quarter. Town after town opened its gates to this grim summons. Wexford, which refused to surrender, was stormed, and the whole garrison, 2000 in number, put to the sword (Oct. 11th).

While condemning these massacres we must remember, not only that there had been a terrible massacre of Protestants eight years before,[179] but that the Celts, whether Irish or Highlanders, failed themselves to observe towards others the rules of war obtaining among more civilized nations; and further that, even according to the rules of war of that time, the garrisons of places taken by storm were presumed to have lost their right to quarter; the Catholic generals on the Continent had, in fact, put to the sword, not only the garrisons, but the inhabitants of Protestant towns. Yet Cromwell was probably not so much influenced by precedents of his own day as by those drawn from “the wars of the Lord” in his Bible. It is not the only time that religion has been made to seem at war with humanity through the mistaken idea, that usages tolerated among uncivilized nations 3000 years ago are a model for the observance of Christians. The history of the Indian mutiny, in our own time, shows that the danger of an uncritical interpretation of the sacred records is not past for us. It was only in the case of these two garrisons that Cromwell was merciless, but this blot on his character increased his difficulties in the next Scottish campaign by inspiring groundless fears in the civil population.

%REDUCTION OF IRELAND.%

In other respects, while Cromwell’s rigour and determination saved bloodshed in the end by the rapidity and completeness of his conquests, his conduct in Ireland contrasted favourably on many points with that of the Royalists there. His own soldiers, for ill-using the people contrary to regulations, were sometimes cashiered the army, sometimes hanged. When a treaty was made, he kept faithfully to its terms. Garrisons that yielded on summons were allowed either to march away with arms and baggage, or else to go abroad and enter the service of any government at peace with England. Before the war was over he had rid the country, on these terms, of some 45,000 soldiers. Taking advantage of the divisions of his enemies, he persuaded several garrisons of English soldiers to desert the cause of Charles Stuart for the Commonwealth. His conduct of the war was so successful that, during the nine months of his stay in Ireland, the forces of the Royalists were shattered, and the provinces of Leinster and Munster recovered for the Parliament. Cromwell returned to England in May 1650, leaving his son-in-law Ireton to complete the conquest of the country. The last garrisons in Ulster and Munster surrendered during the course of the ensuing summer and autumn. Ireton crossed the Shannon and drove the Irish back into the bogs and mountain fastnesses of Connaught, their last refuge, where fighting still continued for two years after all the rest of the country had been reduced (1651-2).

%PARTIES IN SCOTLAND.%

Cromwell had hastened from Ireland because a pressing danger now threatened England from Scotland. The Scots were divided into three parties--first, the Strict Covenanters, followers of Argyle, who had been placed in power by Cromwell after the defeat of Hamilton in Lancashire (1648); secondly, the Lax Covenanters, or Engagers, who had taken part in Hamilton’s invasion; thirdly, the old Royalists, headed by the Marquis of Montrose. Though the Strict Covenanters declined to fight for a king who refused the Covenant, they grew indignant at seeing Republicans and Sectarians triumph over Presbyterians in England; and, having hopes that the son would be less recalcitrant than the father, sent deputies to the Hague to offer Charles the crown of Scotland, on condition of his taking the Covenant, and promising to rule by the advice of Parliament and Kirk. At the time this treaty was being negotiated, Montrose was defeated and taken prisoner by the Covenanters. Charles, though he had given him a full commission, yet, not wishing to break off the treaty, basely disowned the earl, and caused word to be sent to Argyle that he felt no sorrow for the defeat of the man who had drawn the sword “contrary to the royal command.” The outrages of Montrose’s savage levies were long remembered in the Lowlands, and the Covenanters, in revenge, now determined to execute him with all the circumstances of shame they could devise. He was sentenced to be hung on a gibbet, thirty feet high, in the Grassmarket in Edinburgh, the place of execution for the lowest felons, his body quartered, and his limbs fixed on the gates of four towns in Scotland. Montrose, by the calmness and dignity of his bearing, cast back the scorn and the shame into the faces of his enemies. He had always loved to play the hero, and never had such a scene been offered him before. He walked calmly to the place of execution with a “grand air,” magnificently dressed, as if he had been going to wait upon the king. His country honoured him in his death more than in his life (May 21st).

The Republican statesmen were aware that, if Charles Stuart reigned in Scotland, English and Scotch Presbyterians would unite in an attempt to place him upon the throne of England. They determined, therefore, to ward off the danger by being the first in the field. Fairfax, however, refused to command. The Republicans knew that the only man able to take his place was Cromwell. Cromwell’s power they feared already, but it was in vain they begged and implored Fairfax to go; in vain Cromwell himself entreated him, which he did so earnestly that none could doubt his sincerity; in vain it was urged upon him that the Scots had already broken the Covenant by one invasion under Hamilton, and were now, without doubt, intending a second. Fairfax, however, refusing to march against the Scots unless they first actually entered England, resigned his command to the Commons, who appointed Cromwell commander-in-chief of the whole army in his stead (June 26th).

%SCOTCH CAMPAIGN.%

When Cromwell, at the head of 16,000 men, crossed the border (July 22nd), he found silence and desolation around him. The country people, frightened at horrible tales spread about of cruelties practised by the Sectarian soldiers, had obeyed the orders of the Scotch Parliament and fled for refuge to the towns, leaving behind them only a few women, who baked and brewed for the invaders. When Cromwell arrived at Musselburgh he found the Scotch army of 24,000 men occupying a long line of entrenchments, running from Leith to the hills called Salisbury Crags and Arthur’s Seat, which lie to the east of Edinburgh Old Town. David Leslie, the Scotch general, had taken up this unassailable position with the intention of starving the English out of the country. His own army was amply supplied with provisions from all the north of Scotland lying at his back; while, the eastern Lowlands having been purposely laid waste, his enemies were entirely dependent for their supplies upon a fleet which had followed them from England.

Cromwell marched and countermarched, in hopes of drawing Leslie out of his fastness and bringing on a general engagement. But his efforts were in vain. As autumn approached the difficulties of the situation increased. The weather was wet and stormy, the soldiers fell sick, and the ocean was so rough that provisions were landed with difficulty. A council of war agreed to retreat to Dunbar, a town on the sea-coast, lying between Edinburgh and Berwick, which might, at the worst, be fortified, and afford some quarters for the winter (Aug. 31st). Accordingly the “poor, shattered, hungry, discouraged army” first shipped 500 sick men for Berwick, and then marched from Musselburgh through Haddingtonshire to Dunbar (Aug. 31st). Leslie, who mistakenly supposed that his enemies had put on board their great guns and a large number of troops, followed closely in pursuit, with the intention of putting himself between them and their communications with England. Having succeeded in passing them, he thus made it impossible for them to continue their retreat without cutting their way through his army, which now faced about to front them. They were cooped up between Belhaven Bay and the mouth of the Broxburn, on a strip of coast not above two miles long. Behind there was no shelter but the little fishing town of Dunbar. Immediately in front of this, barely a mile off, was Doon Hill, rising like a hog’s back to a height of more than 500 feet, and forming the northern extremity of the dreary and boggy Lammermoor range. Upon the long level summit of this hill was stationed the Scots’ army, commanding from its vantage ground the surrounding lowland country, and ready to seize any opportune moment to descend and annihilate the smaller force beneath it. In order the more completely to close the road to Berwick, Leslie’s right wing of horse descended and occupied the undulating but comparatively level ground spreading between the foot of Doon Hill and the sea-coast. South of Doon Hill, the Lammermoors gradually approach closer and closer to the sea, until, at Copperspath, some eight or nine miles south of Dunbar, the road to Berwick runs through a narrow pass, “where ten men to hinder are better than forty to make their way,” which was itself already held by the enemy.

To return westwards to Musselburgh was worse than useless. An attempt to escape in their ships was full of danger, as they would be open to attack from the Scots in their rear while embarking. To advance was destruction, as long as Leslie commanded the road to Berwick. To fight was impossible, so long as he remained upon the top of Doon Hill. Oliver prepared for the worst, but did not despair. He wrote to Haslerig, then governor of Newcastle, telling him to collect what forces he could, for the army was so blocked up he could not get out without “almost a miracle,” and his soldiers were falling sick “beyond imagination.” Neither did Oliver’s men despair, to judge from the spirit of a musketeer with a wooden arm, who was taken prisoner in a skirmish. When asked by Leslie “if the army intended to fight,” he replied, “What else do you think we came here for?” “Soldier, how will you fight when you have shipped half your men and all your great guns?” “Sir, if you please to draw down your men to the foot of the hill, you will find both men and great guns also.” Leslie sent him back again free.

%DUNBAR FIELD.%

The Broxburn is a small stream which divides the foot of Doon Hill from the base of the little promontory upon which stands Dunbar. It flows in a glen with steep grassy banks between forty and fifty feet high, and as many apart. The easiest passage across is at a point about a mile from the sea-coast, near the Duke of Roxburgh’s seat, Broxmouth House, where the sides of the glen slope gently down to the water, and the high road to Berwick now crosses by a bridge. Oliver, about four o’clock on Monday afternoon (Sept. 2nd), was walking in the garden of Broxmouth House and watching the movements of the enemy upon Doon Hill, when he perceived that Leslie was actually bringing his whole army down below the steep part of the hill-side, strengthening his right wing, opposite the duke’s house, with two-thirds of the cavalry from his left, and posting his infantry in the cornfields which sloped gently down to the Broxburn. What did this movement mean? Cromwell divined at once. Leslie’s purpose was to seize the easy passage over the brook near Broxmouth House by a surprise, and then bring his forces over and fight at pleasure. Cromwell saw that, by attacking first, he might seize the passage, outflank Leslie’s right wing, and drive it back upon the main body, and thus rout the whole army while hemmed up in that narrow space between the steep of Doon Hill and Broxburn glen. He suggested the plan to Lambert, who said he had meant to say the same thing, and the action was agreed upon for the morrow.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF DUNBAR 3^{rd} Sept 1650.]

%BATTLE OF DUNBAR.%

It was the Presbyterian Committee who had persuaded Leslie to abandon his masterly inactivity on the hill-top. They thought it a mistake to adopt a policy which would let the Sectarians surrender, and thus escape utter destruction. Moreover, while the English were provided with tents, Leslie’s own men were absolutely without shelter, exposed to all the furies of wind and weather. Leslie himself, as his forces numbered 22,000 men, while those of Cromwell, supposing all the men had been in fighting condition, were not above 12,000, had no doubt of the event, and gave out in his camp that, by seven o’clock on the Tuesday, “they would have the army of the enemy dead or alive.”

A misty morning followed a wet and tempestuous night. By four o’clock Cromwell had already set his troops in motion. Large bodies of horse and foot were massed opposite the Scots’ right wing, while, for a mile along the bank of the Broxburn, great guns were stationed, and regiments of foot drawn up, in readiness to assault Leslie’s main battle, now lying in the stubble of the reaped cornfields opposite. At six o’clock the trumpets sounded, the cannon fired all up the line, and the soldiers charged, shouting their word of battle, “The Lord of hosts--the Lord of hosts!” The Scots’ foot were hardly well awake, and had let their matches, then ropes of tow, nearly all out, so that they could not so much as return the fire that assailed them from the opposite side of the glen. Only at the passage, where the road to Berwick then went through the Broxburn, was the struggle fierce. For here the Scotch horse, themselves preparing for a surprise, returned the charge with spirit, and forced their enemies back over brook and hollow. Few, however, were their moments of triumph. Cromwell’s own regiment of foot, coming up to battle, drove them back in turn at push of pike; two foot regiments, which had crossed the glen below Broxmouth House, took their wing in flank; the English horse, charging a second time, broke through horse and foot. Leslie’s whole wing then turned and fled right back upon his own main battle, disordering the whole line, and trampling their friends to death beneath their horses’ feet. For nearly an hour the whole scene was enveloped in mist; when at last the fog broke and the sun shone out upon the sea, Oliver shouted aloud the battle cry of Israel, “Now let God arise and scatter His enemies!” and, as the fog was more and more dispersed, and the battle-field more clearly revealed, he cried again, “I profess they run!” and there “was the Scots’ army all in confusion and running, both right wing and left and main battle.” In all directions they fled--some back towards Copperspath, some in mad panic northwards across the Broxburn to Dunbar itself, but the mass of the fugitives, horse and foot, along the skirts of Doon Hill westwards towards Haddington. Thus within one short hour the situation of the two armies was more than reversed. The English were victorious; destruction surrounded the Scotch. Before joining the chase, the general and those about him halted and sang Psalm cxvii.:--“O praise the Lord, all ye nations; praise him, all ye people. For His merciful kindness is great towards us, and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever. Praise ye the Lord.” Such was the battle, or rather the rout of Dunbar. Upon the place, or near about it, 3000 men were killed or trampled to death; the chase was pursued for nearly eight miles; 10,000 prisoners were taken; the whole of the Scottish baggage and artillery fell into the hands of the conquerors (Sept. 3rd, 1650). Cromwell in his turn advanced; the town of Edinburgh opened its gates, and he laid siege to the castle.

After the defeat of the army of Strict Covenanters at Dunbar, the middle party obtained greater influence in the State. The members of this party were called Engagers, from their having entered into that ‘Engagement’ to free the king, which led to Hamilton’s invasion in 1648. The Parliament met at Perth, and voted that not only Engagers, but Royalists, who submitted to public penance, should be allowed to serve in the army. Charles himself was crowned king at Scone (Jan. 1st), and made commander-in-chief of the army, which by the spring was again raised to a force of 20,000 men. Many Covenanters, however, could not hide from themselves the truth of reproaches cast upon them by Cromwell, that Charles hated the Covenant and sacrificed his conscience for love of a crown. The officers of a new army, raised during the autumn in the western Lowland counties, had presented a remonstrance, refused to fight for the king, and finally joined the invaders. The governor of Edinburgh Castle had shared the views of the remonstrants, and opened its gates to Cromwell (Dec. 19th, 1650).

%CHARLES INVADES ENGLAND.%

Leslie and Charles, adopting the strategy of the former year, took up a strong position near Stirling, where they could not readily be attacked. Cromwell determined to starve them out. He crossed his army over the Firth of Forth at Queensferry, dispersed the force sent to oppose his landing, and thus gained possession of Fife, and shut Charles off from all the north of Scotland. Perth, the seat of the Scottish government, itself surrendered. Charles, finding his supplies cut off, and the road to England open, played the desperate game which Cromwell seems almost to have designed for him. Suddenly breaking up his camp (July 31st), and getting three days’ start of the enemy, he marched straight into England, becoming in his turn the invader. He bent his course towards Gloucestershire, hoping that the people in the west would rise in his favour, and increase the size of his army before he turned upon London. But his friends were unprepared. Only a few partial risings took place, and, when the royal standard was raised at Worcester, his army barely numbered 16,000 men (Aug. 22nd). The Republicans despatched the militia, and every force that could be raised, to check his progress. Cromwell himself, having left 5000 men under General Monk, to complete the conquest of Scotland, followed fast in pursuit, and having effected a junction with the other Republican forces, found himself by the time he reached Worcester, in command of a force of 30,000 men (Aug. 28th).

The city of Worcester, which stands on the eastern bank of the Severn, was then, as now, connected by a bridge with its western suburb of St. John’s. The surrounding country, on either side of the Severn, was cultivated, and the numerous fields, lanes, and ditches rendered it all unsuited for cavalry fighting. West of the Severn a fruitful plain stretches away uninterruptedly as far as the Malvern Hills; but on the eastern side of the river the country is broken, and, at the distance of about a mile from the city, Red Hill, crowned by the Perry Woods, bounds the view. Around and within city and suburb Charles entrenched his army. On a small but abruptly rising eminence, which looks down on Worcester from the south-east, the Scots planted guns and raised an entrenchment, which they called Fort Royal. A bridge at Upton, some miles below Worcester, was broken down, to secure the suburb of St. John’s from attack, by preventing the enemy from crossing to the Severn’s western bank. The work, however, was not thoroughly done. Some of Lambert’s soldiers straddled across a parapet left standing, and, after a fierce struggle, drove the Royalists out of Upton, and repaired and maintained the bridge. The next day, the 29th of August, Cromwell, advancing from Pershore and Whiteladies Ashton, occupied Red Hill and the Perry Woods with the main body of his army. On the 2nd of September, Fleetwood took over the repaired bridge at Upton a formidable force of 10,000 men. Several difficulties, however, remained to be overcome before he could approach St. John’s, for the Royalists held the only bridge over the Teme at Powick, and had placed a strong detachment of troops in the village before it. To ensure a close communication with the other forces, from which he was now separated by the Severn, Fleetwood brought boats up from Upton and Gloucester, and made a bridge of them over the Severn. He then made a second bridge, within pistol-shot of the other, over the Teme, to be ready for use in case his troops could not force the Powick Bridge. Fleetwood began his march from Upton at five o’clock in the morning, but the bridges were not completed until about three in the afternoon. A furious assault was then made upon the Royalists’ advanced guard at Powick, and, after a hard struggle, Fleetwood’s soldiers succeeded in driving them from their position, and forcing a passage over the Teme. This success, however, was but momentary. On seeing the confusion of their friends, large bodies of horse and foot poured out from St. John’s, and, charging furiously, forced the Parliamentarians back again upon the Teme. At this critical moment Cromwell brought several regiments of horse and foot across by the bridge of boats over the Severn. A body of Highlanders gallantly but vainly threw themselves in the way of their advance. Cromwell “led the van in person, being the first man that set foot on the enemy’s ground.” He effected a junction with Fleetwood’s forces, and once for all turned the tide of battle on this side the river. “We beat the enemy,” he says, “from hedge to hedge till we beat him into Worcester.”

[Illustration: BATTLE OF WORCESTER 3^{rd} Sept^r. 1651.]

%BATTLE OF WORCESTER.%

Charles, with his principal officers, was watching the operations from the tower of Worcester Cathedral. On seeing regiment after regiment of Parliamentarians stream across the bridge of boats to the western side of the Severn, he determined to assail the position of the forces still remaining on Red Hill. From the number of the enclosures which cut up the ground, the action was mainly confined to the infantry. The Royalists charged out of Sudbury Gate with even more than their usual gallantry, but could not succeed in breaking two of Cromwell’s foot regiments, who bore the brunt of the shock. Before they had found time for a second charge, Oliver, with several regiments, had re-crossed the bridge of boats. He now charged himself, at the head of his veterans, and the fiercest struggle of all came on. The Highlanders, when their powder was spent, rather than retreat, fought with the butt-ends of their muskets; the artillery from Fort Royal played upon the ranks of the Parliamentarians; the king led his troops on in person again and again. Cromwell saw the position of the Royalists was really untenable; he “did exceedingly hazard himself, riding up and down in the midst of the fire; riding himself in person to the enemy’s foot to offer them quarter, whereto they returned no answer but shot.” In spite of the courage displayed by Charles and his troops, the battle necessarily ended in their complete discomfiture. Closely pursued by Cromwell, they were forced back into the city, where the bloody struggle was continued in the streets. About seven o’clock Fort Royal itself was stormed, and the guns turned upon Worcester. On the south-east side of the city, by Sudbury Gate, and on the west side, over Severn Bridge, the Parliamentarians pressed in at the same time. Charles, in despair, rode up and down the streets, now calling on the foot soldiers, who were throwing away their arms, to stand again; now imploring the horse to charge once more, crying that he would rather they should shoot him than let him outlive that fatal day. But his words were spent in vain; his troops were being pressed back to the north end of the town; the streets were becoming strewn with the dead bodies of men and horses; at last, to avoid falling into the hands of his enemies, he was obliged to fly hard out of the city’s northern gate.[180]

%ESCAPE OF CHARLES.%

Leslie himself was taken prisoner, but while prisoners of note, both Scotch and English noblemen, were captured daily, the Commonwealth’s troops, though they scoured the country up and down, failed to light upon the greatest prize of all. Riding north from Worcester the night after the battle, Charles, early the next morning, reached Whiteladies, a house belonging to a Royalist gentleman. Here he changed his clothes for a peasant’s dress; a coarse linen shirt, a pair of old green breeches, a coat of green, his own stockings with their embroidered tops cut off, and a pair of clumsy shoes, formed his apparel. His face and hands were dyed brown with walnuts. Richard Penderell, one of five brothers, tenants on the estate, clipped off the fugitive’s long locks, and took him to a neighbouring wood for concealment. They had only left Whiteladies half an hour, when soldiers in pursuit came and searched the house. It was wet and cold in the wood, and Penderell sent his sister, Joan Yates, to the king with a blanket and a mess of milk, butter, and eggs. Charles started when she came. “Good woman,” he said, “can you be faithful to a distressed Cavalier?” “Yes, sir,” she replied; “I would rather die than betray you.” At nightfall Charles left his retreat, hoping to get across the Severn and escape into Wales; but the bridges being all guarded, and no boat obtainable, he was obliged to retrace his steps to Whiteladies, where he spent a day, in company with a Cavalier, Captain Careless, in an oak, the thick foliage of which concealed the two fugitives from the sight of passers by. William Penderell and his wife gathered sticks near at hand, ready to give warning of danger, for occasionally soldiers came along the path near the tree, and looked about the surrounding woods and meadows. After running many risks of discovery, Charles made his way through the country to the south coast, and, sailing from Brighton, was landed in safety at Fécamp, in Normandy (Oct. 16th). His escape spoke much for the good faith and loyalty of the English people. He had been a wanderer for forty-four days, and at the mercy of forty-five persons at least whose names are known--peasants, servants, gentlemen, women, Protestants, Catholics--of whom none were prevailed upon to betray him either by fear or greed; and this though the House of Commons had declared all his harbourers traitors, and offered a reward of £1000 for his discovery.

%FOREIGN AFFAIRS.%

During the two troubled years in which Cromwell was reducing Ireland and Scotland, the Council of State had not neglected foreign affairs. Milton had been appointed their Secretary for Foreign Tongues (March 13th, 1649), and with Blake, Popham, and Dean for their admirals, they were engaged in strengthening the navy and raising England’s power by sea. Prince Rupert, driven from the Channel and from Ireland, fled for refuge to the Tagus. Blake pursued him with eighteen ships of war, blocked up the mouth of the river, and inflicted so much damage on Portuguese merchants by seizing vessels coming home from the Indies, that the King of Portugal gave the prince orders to quit the coast (1650). Rupert sailed first to the Mediterranean, but when most of his vessels were destroyed by Blake he made with the remaining three for the West Indies, where being still pursued, wherever he went, by the Commonwealth’s fleets, he at last gave over his pirate’s calling, and sold his vessels to the King of France (March, 1652). His brother Maurice, who accompanied him, had been lost in a storm. By the end of the year 1652 there was hardly a corner of the British dominions that dared any longer openly support the cause of Charles. Guernsey was the last to give in, but Jersey, the Scilly Isles, and the colonies planted on the North American coast and in the West India Islands had all been visited by the Republican admirals, and had consented to recognize the authority of the Commonwealth.

After the victory of Worcester, foreign princes hastened to make friends of men who might prove formidable enemies, and no longer hesitated to recognize the Republic as the lawful government of England. Tuscany, Venice, Geneva, the Swiss cantons, the Hanseatic towns, German princes, sent and received agents; Sweden, Denmark, and Portugal sent extraordinary ambassadors. A Spanish ambassador, as early as December, 1650, received audience of the Commons. The aspirations of the Republican statesmen, Vane, Bradshaw, Martin, and their companions, rose with success. To foreigners they seemed “filled with pride,” and vast schemes of advancing England’s power and commerce were believed to float before their minds. “They intend,” writes a foreigner, “to destroy the trade of Holland and usurp it to themselves. The Dutch must serve on board their fleet, and all the shipwrights, sailmakers, and ropemakers will be obliged to go and earn their living in England. Then they will turn their arms against Denmark, and will oblige Norway to sell their wood to no other nation than England. They will send their fleets against Spain and Lisbon to destroy their trade with the East Indies, and usurp the trade of all the European nations. All the earth must submit to them, work for nobody but them, and they will, from time to time, come into their ports and sweep away all their treasure. All commodities will be worked up in England, so that the best artificers will flock thither; and, if they will have any fine linen or good cloth to wear in another country, the flax and wool must be sent to be manufactured in England.”[181]

%PORTUGAL--FRANCE.%

When the King of Portugal sought a treaty, the Republicans demanded a very large sum as indemnity for the expenses England had incurred in fitting out the fleet against Rupert. The ambassador, on hesitating to agree to such terms, was peremptorily ordered to quit the country (May, 1651). Louis XIV. had allowed French vessels to join with those of Rupert in seizing English merchantmen. The Republicans were now in possession of the more powerful navy, and retaliated severely on the French for their former ill-will. There was no means by which Louis could come to more friendly relations but by sending an ambassador to England and making a treaty. But, though eager for England’s support or, at least, neutrality in the war in which he was now engaged with Spain, his pride forbade him to recognize as lawful rulers the men who had driven his young cousin into exile, and put his uncle to death on the scaffold. The French merchants, in despair at the injuries inflicted on their commerce, asked permission of the English Parliament to send an agent to London to treat privately. “I cannot,” replied the Secretary of the Council of State, “procure for you a safe conduct to come in the capacity you propose. But, if the French Government will consider the wrongs by it committed, and will save us the necessity of seeking justice for ourselves, and treat with the Republic in the forms usual between sovereign states, I have no doubt that this State will be willing to entertain any honest and just propositions for the settlement of differences”[182] (Dec., 1650). Meantime Louis’ delay not only affected the interest of merchants, but threatened the success of his own military expeditions. Agents from the revolted city of Bordeaux appeared in London, soliciting aid of the Republicans, and offering in return to place England in possession of a port it could secure for them on the west coast of France. The English fleet did not hesitate to seize some French vessels carrying provisions for the relief of Dunkirk, at the time besieged by the Netherlanders. The town, in consequence, was forced to surrender (Sept.); and, when the French government complained of the conduct of the English fleet, the Republicans replied that the act was merely a reprisal for damages inflicted on English merchants by French vessels in the Mediterranean. Thus pressed, Louis at last consented to send an ambassador to England, and formally recognized the Republican government (Dec.)

%FOREIGN RELATIONS.%

Though the Republicans, by the energy of their government, caused England to be feared and respected, yet their foreign policy was not marked by any true insight into the relations of states at the time. France, though a Catholic country, was no deadly enemy of Protestantism or of progress; the governments of Spain and Austria were distinguished for their fanatical and reactionary spirit. The Republicans, however, showed themselves inclined to support Spain against France, and now entered into a disastrous war with Holland, the enemy of Spain, a Protestant country, and their own natural ally. This war was, partly, the result of commercial jealousy. The aspiring spirit of the Republicans caused them to make unjust and unreasonable demands as the price of their friendship with the sister republic. We have before had occasion to notice the commercial rivalries existing between the English and the Dutch, the cruel murders perpetrated in the East Indies, and the consequent depression of English trade.[183] The unfriendly feeling thus produced became still more pronounced after the execution of the king and the establishment of the Republic. The Dutch were afraid that England, now that it had a government like their own, would also turn its attention to commerce, and, by the superior size and resources of the country, eclipse the smaller luminary at its side.

%HOLLAND.%

On the other hand the Republicans had been so successful in founding and maintaining their new form of government, that now no designs seemed too bold for accomplishment. At first, trying fair means to prevent the Dutch from acting as their rivals on the sea and the destroyers of their commerce, they had sent two extraordinary ambassadors, Strickland and St. John, to Holland, offering the renewal of a former treaty of 1495, and proposing further that the two countries should unite in a kind of confederacy and have the same friends and enemies (Jan., 1651). The States of Holland, in place of a confederacy, proposed terms of their own for an alliance. Dutch statesmen foresaw that if England and Holland were confederated together, their country being the smaller and less powerful, would practically lose its independence, and in its foreign relations be forced to act in the interest of England. The negotiations were broken off, and the English ambassadors recalled (June, 1651). “My lords,” said St. John to the States commissioners upon taking his leave, “you have your eye upon the issue of the affairs of the King of Scotland, and therefore have despised the friendship we proffered you; I will assure you that many in the Parliament were of opinion that we ought not to have come hither, or to have sent ambassadors till we had first overcome our difficulties, and seen an ambassador from you. I now see my fault, and perceive very well that those members of Parliament judged right. You will in a little time see our affairs against the King of Scotland despatched, and then you will by your ambassadors come and desire what we now so cordially come to proffer. But assure yourselves, you will then repent you have rejected our kindness.”[184]

After the battle of Worcester (3rd Sept., 1651), the victorious Republicans passed the Navigation Act, the heading of which briefly expressed its contents: “Goods from foreign parts; by whom to be imported.” First, with a few exceptions named, it forbade any goods to be imported into England from Asia, Africa, or America, excepting in English ships, or in ships belonging to the English colonies; secondly, it forbade the produce or manufacture of any country in Europe, to be imported into England, except in English ships, or in ships of the country in which the goods were produced (9th Oct., 1651). The framers of this law had two ends in view. The first, to transfer part of the carrying trade[185] of the Dutch to Englishmen; the second, to increase the strength of the English navy. The first end was contrary to the principles of free trade. If the Dutch could import foreign goods into England cheaper than English merchants, the English consumer was benefited by the trade being in their hands, and a saving of labour was made. The second end, however, that of national defence, may, perhaps, then have partly justified the law. English merchants were practically compelled to build vessels in order to import the goods formerly imported by the Dutch; and from the merchant marine came the sailors, and often the ships, that guarded the coasts and caused foreigners to hesitate before insulting the English government. The usage English traders had experienced in the East Indies from the Dutch, in the West Indies from the Spaniards, had proved the necessity of England’s possessing a powerful navy, if she was either to extend her trade or protect her colonies.

%WAR WITH THE DUTCH.%

The Dutch sent ambassadors to resume the negotiations, and obtain the repeal of the new law, but so unfriendly was the feeling existing between the two nations, that while the ambassadors were still in the country, the English and Dutch admirals, Blake and Van Tromp, engaged with their fleets in the Downs (19th May). Each admiral accused the other of having been the aggressor, and war with Holland was now declared (19th July.) Blake sailed to the eastern coast of Scotland, where he surprised 600 Dutch fishing vessels, and exacted from them the tribute of the tenth herring. Meanwhile Van Tromp was prevented by a contrary wind from approaching a small fleet of fifteen vessels, left in the channel under the command of Ayscue to guard the English coasts. He sailed north in search of Blake, but while in the German Ocean a violent storm so damaged his fleet, that he returned to Holland with his vessels reduced to a third of their former number. The Dutch, who thought themselves better sailors than the English, were deeply mortified at their misfortunes, which they ascribed to the “witch-wind” that prevented their admiral from attacking Ayscue. Nor were the English satisfied with such fortuitous successes. They remarked that the country had run great hazards during the summer, from which it had escaped rather by fortune of wind and weather than by the providence of committee or admiral. The committee of council which was at the head of the Admiralty, was, in the opinion of many, too large a body to conduct the affairs of the navy with the skill and expedition required in time of war. The council was now informed that “they were letting slip many fair opportunities, and were like to play a very dangerous after-game, for the Dutch were preparing a great fleet, and would pass through the channel to convoy their merchantmen, when the best of the English ships would be called in for want of victuals.”[186] These fears proved not unfounded. Some of Blake’s ships were under repair, while twenty others had been despatched to the Mediterranean, when Van Tromp, with 95 vessels, passed down the channel. Though Blake had only 37, he preferred fighting to retreating down the channel, and thus leaving the coast towns unguarded. An engagement took place off Dover, which lasted from eleven in the morning until dark. Although the fleets were so unequal in numbers, Blake under cover of the night, succeeded in reaching the Thames in safety with the larger part of his damaged fleet. Two vessels fell into the hands of the Dutch, the “Garland” and one other merchantman, which, when the rest made off, were left fighting ‘board and board’ with Van Tromp’s own flagship (29th Nov.).

On news of this defeat great discouragement prevailed amongst the seamen, great fear amongst the people. General Monk was associated with Blake and Dean in command of the fleet, and four or five special commissioners of the Admiralty were appointed, with Vane at their head. Vane’s name itself was sufficient to serve as a guarantee for an honest administration. The commissioners made every effort to repair the fleet and place it in a flourishing condition. “They sent letters to all vice-admirals and mayors of sea towns to stir up seamen to engage in the service. The best and ablest commanders that could be heard of were invited to the service and entertained, if they were men of courage and civil conversation, and keeping good order in their ships. No fee or gratuity was suffered to be given or taken by any man for their places. The seamen were well paid; the wives and children of the slain were provided for; pensions were given to the wounded. Inquiry made after misdemeanours in officers, and of embezzlements of stores and prize goods, and such officers were removed whose actions appeared to be ill. The commissioners sat daily at Whitehall, both early and late, and were private in their debates.”[187] Early in the spring Van Tromp, convoying on their return voyage up the channel more than 200 laden merchantmen, fell in with the English admirals off Portland Isle. On three successive days the two fleets, each of 80 or 90 sail, were engaged. The battle, begun off Portland Isle, extended to the coast of Holland. The Dutch were entirely defeated, and compelled to seek refuge in the shallow waters of the Texel, whither the English vessels, which drew more water than theirs, were unable to pursue. In this defeat the Dutch lost eleven men-of-war and thirty merchantmen (18, 19, 20 Feb., 1653).

FOOTNOTES:

[174] Whitelock, Mem. 417.

[175] Guizot, Hist. de la Répub. d’Angleterre, i. 28.

[176] P. 233.

[177] Whitelock, 464, 398, 421, 443; Carlyle, i. 345.

[178] Dr. Lingard gives credit to the story of Cromwell’s massacre of townspeople--men, women, and children--but the only direct testimony is a story told by Thomas Wood (the brother of Anthony Wood, the historiographer of Oxford). This Thomas Wood had fought on the king’s side, and after the king’s death, “being deeply engaged in a Cavaliering plot in 1648, he, to avoid being taken and hanged, fled to Ireland,” where, according to his brother’s account, he got a command in the regiment of Ingoldsby, an old schoolfellow, and then a Parliamentary officer; and thus, having changed sides, “was engaged in the storming and assaulting” of Drogheda. He tells a tale, in Spenser’s manner, of a “most handsome virgin, arrayed in costly and gorgeous apparel,” whom a soldier treated as though he were Phineas and she a Midianitish woman; whereupon Wood, “seeing her gasping, took away her money, jewels, &c., and flung her clean over the works.” His brother says “he had an art of merriment called buffooning,” and he seems to have practised this on “his mother and brethren,” to whom he often told this story. Ormond, writing from the neighbourhood, and speaking generally of great cruelty having been exercised for five days after the town was taken, makes no mention of a massacre of townspeople. The Catholic Council of Kilkenny, in the manifesto they published at Clonmacnoise at this time, make no mention of a massacre of townspeople at Drogheda, and even think it necessary to warn the Irish against being deceived by a show of clemency. It is in his answer to this manifesto that Cromwell makes the statement quoted in the text. Ormond Papers, ii. 412; Lingard, viii. Appendix.

[179] See p. 104.

[180] Cromwelliana; Carlyle; Boscobel Tracts; Personal Expenses of Charles II. in City of Worcester, communicated to the Transactions of the Historical Society by R. Woof.

[181] Sorbière to M. de Courcelles at Amsterdam, 1st July, 1652, in Harris, Life of Cromwell, 270.

[182] Guizot, i. 448.

[183] See p. 253.

[184] De Witt, Interest of Holland, 393.

[185] See p. 252.

[186] Colonel Thompson’s Notes upon the Dutch War in Bodleian MSS.

[187] Colonel Thompson’s Notes.