out any display of violence." On the 10th of May following, more than a month after the election of the new lord mayor, and more than three months after the death of Charles I., the authority of the House was not established in the city, for the Commonwealth had not yet been proclaimed there. Inquiry was made into the cause of this delay, and twenty days after, on the 30th of May, the proclamation at length took place, in the absence of several of the aldermen, who declined to take any part in the ceremonial, and amid the strongest manifestations of popular disapprobation. "It was desired," wrote M. de Croullé, the secretary of the President de Bellièvre, to Cardinal Mazarin, "that this act should be effected in the ordinary form of a simple publication, without the mayor and aldermen being supported by any soldiers, in order to show that no violent means had been resorted to; but a quantity of people having assembled around them with hootings and insults, compelled them to send for some troops, who first drove away all the bystanders, and thus they finished their pub lication. The aldermen who had absented them selves were called to the bar of the House, and they unhesitatingly confessed the motives of their absence. Sir Thomas Soames, who was also a member of the House, stated, "That it was against several oaths which he had taken as an alderman of London, and against his judgment and conscience." Alderman Chambers said, "That his heart did not go along with the work, in that business." They were both deprived of their municipal functions, and declared incapable of holding any public office. Sir Thomas Soames was even expelled from the House. But when it became necessary to replace them, it was found very difficult to obtain persons willing to be their successors, and seven successive refusals attested the ill-will of the citizens. A dinner offered to the House, by that faction in the city which was devoted to its cause, was a poor compensation for these checks; and, in order to put the municipal body in a position to discharge its functions, it was found necessary to give to forty, and even, in certain cases, to ten of its members, the right to act in its name." The same sort of opposition was met with everywhere. Besides the attachment which was felt to the late king, and which was roused to a pitch of enthusiasm by the publication of the Eikon Basilike, the notion of a monarchy was so thoroughly woven into the language and usages of the people, that even the most customary business was seldom transacted without some breach, often undesigned, of the republican theory or practice. Several years elapsed before the parliament could effect the removal of the royal arms from the churches, and even in so small a matter as the stating of parochial accounts in remote districts, we find continually, for many years after the execution of the king, that the people ran into mistakes founded on the supposition of a continued royal authority; for example, in the accounts of a parish in Gloucestershire which chance at this moment to be before us, the court of "King's" Bench is so named, with one exception, even throughout the whole of the protectorate. The republic, even when established, took so slight a hold of the regard of the people, that it would probably have died out quickly, from mere exhaustion, but for the attempts made by the royalists to bring in the heir to the throne. But Cromwell's victories saved tary genius is always highly paid by the republic only to overturn it. Milipopular enthusiasm, and that of Cromwell raised him to so much eminence that it would have been more than mortal for any man placed in such circumstances to have withstood ambitious promptings; especially as the reputation of his masters of the parliament seemed to decrease exactly in proportion as he achieved the greater glory. It is curious to mark the rise and progress of his ambition. The indications are but few anterior to Worcester. From that time the course of his thoughts was obvious. On his return towards London he received a more than royal greeting, and accepted it in a truly princely manner. Commissioners delegated by the parliament met him beyond Aylesbury with an address. On his entry into London he was met by the Speaker and a large number of members of the House of Commons, by the president of the council of state, the lord mayor and aldermen of the city, and many thousands of notable citizens, who lutes of artillery, and popular acclamaaccompanied him to Whitehall, amid sations; and when, four days afterwards, he made his appearance again in the House, the Speaker reiterated to him the solemn thanks of the Parliament and country. Cromwell received all these honours with pious modesty, saying but little of himself, and ascribing first to God and then to his soldiers, the whole merit of his success. Through his humility, however, glimpses of an irrepressible internal exultation occasionally manifested themselves : his affability towards the commissioners whom the parliament had sent to meet him wore an air of magnificence and grandeur: he presented to each of them a fine horse and some of the prisoners of rank whom he brought with him, and who would certainly redeem their liberty at a high price. To Whitelocke he gave two of them, and he liberated them without ransom. Cromwell proceeded slowly towards London, receiving the homage of the population on his route, and sometimes even halting to share in the hawking expeditions of the gentlemen whom he met. At Aylesbury, it was remarked that he remained long in private conversation with the Chief Justice St. John, one of the parliament's commissioners, and also one of Cromwell's most intimate confidants. His air, his language, and his manners, seemed to undergo a natural transformation; and Hugh Peters, a clear-sighted sectarian preacher, who had long been used to understand and serve him, said, as he noticed his altered ap pearance: "This man will be King of England yet." In considering the conduct of the parliament after the battle of Worcester, when, the country being reduced to quiet, they set themselves to the work of social amelioration, M. Guizot scarcely does them justice. Again, we think, he is misled by a modern instance of which his mind is no doubt full. They effected, during a comparatively brief period, and amidst many interruptions, a number of useful improvements, and laid the foundation for many more. In some of these they were assisted by Cromwell, and we certainly cannot agree with M. Guizot that his conduct in reference to these and the other public questions which were then in agitation was unguided by principle. Cromwell," says M. Guizot, "had no fixed principles, and no unalterable determination. No mind could have been less systematic than his, or less governed by general and preconceived ideas." We totally dissent from this view of his character. It is contradicted by all the actions of his life. "He had an unerring instinct of popular feelings and wishes," continues M. Guizot, "and, without much caring to inquire how far they were legitimate or capable of satisfaction, he boldly became their patron in order to make them allies." The only evidence adduced in favour of these broad assertions goes the length of shewing that even from the time of the battle of Dunbar, Cromwell urged upon the parliament the reform of the law, by making litigation less costly; and that after his return to London from Worcester, petitions were addressed to him and his officers, urging them to procure the abolition of tithes and the excise, as well as the reform of the law. M. Guizot adds, that in religious matters Cromwell aimed at "the regular preaching of the Gospel and liberty of conscience," by which means he conciliated all varieties of sectaries. But in all this where is the proof of want of system, of absence of principle, or of a mere desire to please the popular anxiety for change, without reference to the practicability or the reasonableness of the changes desired? Do unsystematic men make good generals, justice, a settled provision for the or win great battles? Are cheap preaching of the Gospel, and liberty of conscience, objects which cannot be advocated, and consistently advocated, as was the case with Cromwell from the first, without subjecting their supporter to a suspicion of being a mere demagogue? On these points, M. Guizot fails, as it seems to us, to establish his view of Cromwell's character. His theory wants support on two vital points, neither of which does he endeavour to establish, nor, as we think, can establish. First, he must shew that Cromwell's character was variable, which is the infallible result both of want of system and absence of principle; and, secondly, he must shew that the measures which he indicates were in his sense of the word popular measures, measures which a demagogue would support with a view to the acquisition of mere popular applause. We do not think this can be done with respect to any of the suggested measures, certainly not with reference to the last of them, liberty of conscience. In those days such liberty was no more popular with the two great parties, those of the Church of England and the Presbyterians, than reform of law was popular with the lawyers. By the advocacy of such measures, all that can be said of Cromwell is, that he alienated great and powerful interests, but gained the favour of a few despised and uninfluential sectaries. The final dispute between Cromwell and the Long Parliament came, as is well known, not upon any of the questions before suggested, but with reference to a new electoral law. The parliament would have had a new parliament elected by the country at large, but by a greatly enlarged constituency. The particulars of their scheme are not accurately known, for Cromwell, when he turned out the parliament, put the bill in his pocket, and it has not yet been found. Cromwell and the army deemed, and perhaps rightly, judging upon their principles, that the country was not in a state to be trusted with a re-election. A free parliament returned in the way proposed would unquestionably have restored the monarchy. They contended that certain great and crying reforms were necessary, which would be better accomplished by a smaller body of some forty well-selected persons, to whom it was advisable that the necessary power should be delegated. The parliament was universally unpopular. The army cry was that the scheme proposed, enforced as no doubt it would be by certain tests, would merely perpetuate the present worthless body, and that the required reforms would thus be indefinitely postponed. These were the allegations upon which Cromwell acted, and certainly no coup d'etat was ever more entirely popular than his. M. Guizot prints a letter from the French ambassador in London which mentions the event thus. He reports Cromwell's speech, in which he concluded with declaring them to be no longer a parliament Having finished his brief discourse, he put on his hat and walked twice or thrice up and down the parliament chamber. Seeing that the members did not budge, the General ordered Major Harrison to bring in the soldiers who formed the guard. They entered without saying a word. Then the Major, hat in hand, with all possible respect, went up to the Speaker's chair, and kissing his hand took it in his own, and led him out of the hall as a gentleman does a lady, the whole parliament following. General Cromwell took the mace and gave it to the soldiers. . . . All the people everywhere are delighted, and so also are the gentry, with this noble action of General Cromwell, and the fall of the parliament, which is reviled in the mouth of everybody. There is written upon the Parliament House This house is now to be let unfurnished; And songs are everywhere sung against them. One was publicly sold, which General Cromwell out of his great moderation has ordered not to be sung again, and has suppressed 40,000 copies which were seized at the printers. They are not allowed to be sold underhand. "We do not hear a dog bark at their going," was Cromwell's exclamation on the dissolution of the Long Parliament: the fact was literally so. Not the slightest impediment was thrown in his way, and he proceeded at leisure to select and summon what has been called the assembly of Puritan Notables, but is better known by its nickname of the Barebones Parliament. In the meantime an executive council of thirteen was appointed with Cromwell at its head, and the whole business of the country was transacted by them. We cannot follow the narrative of the events of the protectorate minutely. Nor is it necessary. Every body remembers them, and we do not find any great deal of novelty in the version presented to us by M. Guizot. We turn rather to some pleasant resumés of the information we possess respecting Cromwell's general conduct and bearing. In these there is great fairness and liberality, the facts are pleasantly grouped, and the impression they produce of the character and spirit of Cromwell's government is on the whole, we believe, most accurate. In those days the universities were in considerable danger. Many of the lower class of sectaries deemed the learning which they did not possess altogether unnecessary, and the Barebones Parliament would have made root and branch work with the schools in which it was taught. Cromwell, more enlightened, took them under his protection. He sent amongst them, indeed, new men who modified much that was obsolete, but energetically defended the institutions themselves. Amongst these men were Goodwin and Owen, the latter of whom stands commemorated amongst the vice-chancellors of Oxford for wearing a grotesque costume, of which Spanish boots, large knots of ribbon at his knees, and a cocked hat, formed conspicuous parts. Such an outrage upon clerical custom excited no little temporary gossip. It was thought by many people that such heterodoxy in ecclesiastical tailorism was absolute ruin. But it was by such men that Cromwell saved the universities "from the attacks of the revolution which had raised him to the sovereign power." The instances are innumerable in which he showed his respect for genius and learning. He presented Greek MSS. to Oxford, gave effectual encouragement to Walton's Polyglot, and decreed the foundation of a great college at Durham. The wits were almost all royalists, but Cromwell forgot their politics out of respect for their talent: Waller resided as his cousin at his court; Cowley and Hobbes were allowed to return from exile; Butler meditated in the house of one of Cromwell's officers his grotesque satires against the fanatical or hypocritical sectaries; Davenant, on his liberation from prison, obtained permission from the Puritan dictator to open a little theatre at Rutland House for the performance of his comedies. . . . He directed Thurloe to apply to Cudworth, who was living in learned retirement at Cambridge, for information regarding persons educated in that university who aspired to public employments; to Hobbes, whose political doctrines pleased him, he offered the post of a secretary in his household; Selden and Meric Casaubon were invited by him to write, one an answer to the "Eikon Basilike," and the other a history of the recent civil war. Both of them declined, and Casaubon even refused a purely gratuitous pension; but Cromwell took no offence. On the death of Archbishop Usher he was anxious that he should have a solemn funeral in Westminster Abbey, and purchased his library, that it might not be sent to the Continent. Amongst the literary men of his own party who were actively engaged in connection with his government, besides Milton, the names of May, Morland, Pell, Owen, Goodwin, Nye, will be borne in mind. Harrington and his Rota, although watched by him, were not persecuted. He indeed seized the MS. of Oceana, but it was restored to the writer on the interposition of Mrs. Claypole, and ultimately published with a dedication to Cromwell himself. "Few despots," concludes M. Guizot, "have so carefully confined themselves within the limits of practical necessity, and allowed the human mind such a wide range of liberty." M. Guizot enters at considerable length into the proceedings of Cromwell in the latter part of his protectorate; his parliaments of 1657 and 1658; his desire to take upon him the title of King, and the suggestions made to him in his periods of perplexity to effect the restoration of the Stuarts. One example of this kind which has lately been brought forward by Lady Theresa Lewis is well introduced by M. Guizot. The Marquess of Hertford, who had been one of Charles's friends, lived in retirement after the death of the King. He had the misfortune to lose his eldest son by death. Cromwell sent Sir Edward Sydenham to the old nobleman with a message of condolence and sympathy. The act was one of intended kindness, and was kindly taken. It was in accordance with Cromwell's usual policy to keep unclosed such a communication thus opened. After a little while the Protector invited the Marquess to dine with him. From motives of policy the invitation was accepted. After dinner Cromwell took the Marquess aside and told him that He had desired his company that he might have his advice what to do. "For," said he, "I am not able to bear the weight of business that is upon me; I am weary of it, and you, my lord, are a great and a wise man, and of great experience, and have been much versed in the business of government. Pray advise me what I shall do." The Marquis was much surprised at this discourse of the Protector, and desired again and again to be excused, telling him he had served King Charles all along, and been of his private council; and that it was no way consistent with his principles that either the Protector should ask, or he (the Marquis) adventure, to give him any advice. This, notwithstanding, would not satisfy Cromwell; but he pressed him still, and told him he would receive no excuses nor denials, but bid the Marquis speak freely, and whatsoever he said it should not turn in the least to his prejudice. The Marquis, seeing himself thus pressed, and that he could not avoid giving an answer, said: "Sir, upon this assurance you have given me, I will declare to your Highness my thoughts, by which you may continue to be great, and esta blish your name and family for ever. Our young master that is abroad, that is my master, and the master of us allrestore him to his crowns; and by doing this you may have what you please." The Protector, no way disturbed at this, answered very sedately, that he had gone so far that the young gentleman could not forgive. The Marquis replied, that if his Highness pleased he would undertake with his master for what he had said. The Protector returned answer, that, in his circumstances, he could not trust. Thus they parted, and the Marquis received no prejudice thereby as long as Cromwell lived. Cromwell's answers to such suggestions seem to have been based upon two distinct grounds. First, the one which was suggested to Lord Hertford, that Charles II. could never forgive the death of his father; and second, that he was a person so debauched and idle that no confidence could be placed in him. Both these reasons were natural enough in Cromwell's circumstances; and it cannot be doubted that, although individually Charles would have forgiven and forgotten almost everything to secure his own succession, it would have been very difficult even for him to have kept down the desire of his followers to wreak vengeance upon those who had defeated them. Cromwell himself never seems to have doubted that he could maintain his authority during his life, nor to have given any encouragement to the idea that he meditated any compromise with Charles, although, as time wore on, the difficulty of transmitting his power to a person so unambitious and in every way so incompetent as his son Richard, must have been painfully ap: parent to him. But he evidently lived under the common deception in reference to the approach of death. He had no idea that his life was near its close. He probably thought there would be time enough for him to make new dispositions at some future day, some more convenient season. In reference to the last arrangements of the protectorate, M. Guizot prints, we believe for the first time, an important letter from Thurloe to Monk, communicated by Dr. Travers Twiss. It announces to the Governor of Scotland the scheme of government contained in the "Humble Address and Remonstrance," under which Cromwell was GENT. MAG. VOL. XLII. for the second time advised to assume the title of King, and clearly proves the just fears entertained at court of the intrigues to which such a step might give rise in the army. We have said that this letter makes mention of the fears entertained "at court," by which we rather mean by Cromwell and his family; although, as Protector, he had a modest "court," and surrounded himself by something like the trappings of royalty. His wife was "a simple and timid person, less ambitious than interested, anxious about her future fate, careful to secure resources for every contingency, and jealous of her husband, who, although he lived on good terms with her, furnished her more than once with just cause for complaint." M. Guizot points out Lady Dysart afterwards Duchess of Lauderdale, and Lady Lambert, with "perhaps others whose names are not so certainly known," as ladies who were "on terms of intimacy with Cromwell," and by whom "he is said to have had several natural children." Much of this suspicion, for we believe it is no more, was probably based upon royalist libels, or upon wild suspicious jealous fancies like that which Cromwell's wife entertained of Queen Christina of Sweden, who, in her admiration for the boldness of Cromwell's character, meditated a visit to England for the purpose of seeing him. on It was more on his children than on his wife that the Protector relied for the direction of his court. He summoned his son Richard to London, and obtained his election as a Member of Parliament, a University of Oxford. His son-in-law, Privy Councillor, and Chancellor of the John Claypole, was a man of elegant tastes, and, like Richard Cromwell, was friendly terms with a great many Cavaliers. After the marriage of his two younger daughters, with Lord Fauconberg and Mr. Rich, Cromwell had about him four young and wealthy families, desirous to enjoy life, and to share their enjoyments with all who came near them in rank and fortune. The Protector himbrilliant assemblies; he was also passionately fond of music, and took delight in surrounding himself with musicians, and in listening to their performances. His court became, under the direction of his daughters, numerous and gay. One alone of them, the widow of Ireton and wife of self was fond of social amusements and Р |