FOOTNOTES:

[5] The physical results of intermarriage with the object of concentrating property, are very apparent in many of the older Bonde families in Norway.

[6] It would not be right to allow this observation to pass without mentioning, even at the cost of destroying so fascinating a picture of pastoral felicity, that the hard-working dairy-maids of Norway are never accompanied by their sweethearts to the sœters, where, except from Saturday night until Monday morning, when the young men find time to visit them, they lead the most solitary lives, and are busy all day in milking cows and goats and making butter and cheese.

[7] In 1833 the total production of spirits in the rural districts amounted to about 3-1/2 gallons per head of the population. The demoralization that resulted from its increase necessitated the enactment of restrictive measures, and at last, in 1848, the small stills were purchased by the State, and private distillation was prohibited. As in Great Britain, the vice of drunkeness is now decreasing in Norway, owing partly to the reduced means of the population, but chiefly to the influence of education and of temperance societies.

[8] The average proportion of 1851-52 was 9.32 per cent. There is a difference of only 1 per cent, between the rates of illegitimacy in rural and urban districts, to the disadvantage of the latter.

[9] 'The French Constitution of 1791 is one of the principal sources of the Fundamental Law of Norway. The suspensive veto has been derived from it.'—O. I. Broch.

[10] At the end of 1882, the total population was estimated at 1,922,500, or a decrease 3900 as compared with 1881, when the increase was only 1000 from the year preceding.

[11] In 1880, the average rate of wages for labourers engaged by the year in agricultural districts was 8l. 10s. per annum, and that of daily labour, without food, 1s. 9d. per diem; the corresponding rates in towns having been 11l. 6s. 8d. and 2s.

[12] Our readers must, however, bear in mind that we are dealing only with the rural economy of Norway, and that the facts we shall submit on that subject affect but slightly the general financial condition of a country which continues to derive its earnings mainly from the supply of timber, fish, wood-pulp, ice, &c., to foreign countries, and from its extensive carrying trade in sailing vessels and steamers. The prosperity of the towns is influenced chiefly by the state of trade in the rest of Europe, while being (to the extent of 122 out of 128) situated on the seaboard, their successful development reacts but little on the prosperity of the inland agricultural districts.

[13] In the 'Tables of Landed Property,' published in 1880, the holdings (in 1865) are classified as follows:—

Properties under5 acres34,224or15.5per cent.
"between5 and 12-1/2 acres42,984"32.1"
""12-1/2 and 50 "48,575"36.2"
"above50 acres8,208"6.2"

[14] The italics our own. The author states that it is the custom among the peasants of Norway that when the eldest son or the daughter of the house (when there is no son), marries, the parents surrender the property, but retain a right of subsistence upon it. This, he shows, explains the existence of the large number of detached dwellings on the same estate, for very often cottages have to be built for the accommodation of persons who have a right to subsistence, which is not, however, limited to a dwelling-house, but frequently includes the usufruct of a small plot of land and, almost always fodder for a certain number of cows and goats. See also p. 386.

[15] The eldest of kin having allodial right.

[16] Between 1871 and 1875 Norway imported about 46 per cent. of the cereals required for home consumption, in addition to pork, butter, and other articles of food.

[17] From statistics recently published, it appears that between 1881 and 1883 the price of land, estimated on actual sales, has shown a tendency to rise in the Provinces which have a coast line, populated by fisherman, &c., and to fall in most of the inland, more purely agricultural districts.

[18] Dr. Broch shows that in 1875, which was an average year for crops, the production of cereals and potatoes (reduced to the value of barley) was 3125 hectol. per 1000 inhabitants in Norway; whereas the average crops in France yielded 7400 hectol. per 1000 of the population.

[19] In 1884 a motion to that effect was made in the Swedish Rigsdag by a peasant proprietor. At present the duty on cereals imported into Norway is merely nominal, averaging about 2-1/2 per cent. ad valorem.

[20] From special causes, the number of persons relieved in 1881 and 1882 was exceptionally high in Ireland. In 1879 it was 7-1/2 per cent., and in 1883 about 8 per cent. of the population.

[21] Hereditary nobility is already abolished. Under a law passed in 1821, all titles of nobility become extinct in the persons of those who were born before 1822.

[22] I. e. dovecot.

[23] Lady Verney's 'Cottier-owners, Little Takes and Peasant Proprietors,' published last year, is replete with facts drawn from actual life, showing that small peasant-proprietorship is proving ruinous on the Continent, even where the system has grown up naturally.

[24] In No. 302, April 1881.

[25] It is certainly remarkable to find that Australian tallow, Indian linseed, and German barley are being imported at St. Petersburg, whence those articles were, in the days of large landed properties, extensively exported. The Minister of Finance, following the example of Prince Bismarck, attempts to check this competition with the staple products of the small landed proprietors by imposing protective duties.

[26] Rs. 846,068,368, at the exchange of 32d., current when the great bulk of the expropriations were effected.

[27] In provinces of Russia Proper alone, the landed proprietors (exclusive of the ex-serfs) have mortgaged their estates in various land and other banks to the extent of 30-3/4 per cent. of their aggregate acreage, the total remaining debt on such lands being about 49 millions sterling at the present reduced value of the rouble, or 65 millions sterling at the rate of exchange adopted in estimating the indebtedness of the peasantry.

[28] At the same rate of exchange.

[29] This tax had previously given to the Imperial Treasury a sum of about 5-1/2 millions sterling, at the depreciated rate of exchange. It was assessed at rates that varied in the different Provinces between 2s. 7d. and 4s. 4d. per head of the male registered population, or 'per soul.'


Art. V.—A Collection of the State Papers of John Thurloe, Esq.; Secretary, First to the Council of State, and afterwards to the Two Protectors, Oliver and Richard Cromwell. In Seven Volumes, containing authentic Memorials of the English affairs from the year 1638 to the Restoration of King Charles II. Vol. III. London, 1742.

The character of Oliver Cromwell might, for our part, have rested undisturbed among the 'old, unhappy, far off things' of history, had it been our intention to fight over again, on the old lines, the contention whether he was a hero or a knave. On the contrary, towards the solution of that question a method, as yet untried, has been adopted. Instead of attempting a review of Cromwell's whole career, to gain an idea of what manner of man he was, a single train of events, in which his hand was visible throughout, has been subjected to some degree of scrutiny. A man's words and deeds, although arising only on one occasion, may supply an effectual test of his real self. There could, for instance, be hardly any doubt regarding the leading bias of his disposition, if a supremely able ruler, that he may procure his safety, consents to—

'play one scene
Of excellent dissembling, and let it look
Like perfect honour.'

These lines disclose our case. With prescient genius Shakspeare has described the part that Cromwell took in an event which occurred under his Protectorate, the so-called Insurrection of March 1655; and in our examination into the secret history of that occurrence lies the test that we have applied to Cromwell's character.

The revelation that we are attempting is not, however, free from inherent difficulty. In these days of literature made easy, the products of close research are not readily acceptable. To open up a new vista in history, much has to be cut down, much put into new order; and the reader must unavoidably share in the labours of the writer. And though some curiosity may be aroused by the discovery of that which has remained hidden, for over two centuries; still, to gratify that curiosity, many an ingrained idea must be laid aside. Difficult as it may seem to many, Cromwell at the outset must be regarded not as 'our heroic One,' but as a man who sold himself to falsehood, that he might 'ride in gilt coaches, escorted by the flunkeyisms, and most sweet voices.' Nor to appreciate the secret of our character-test, can the assertion of any historian, from Clarendon down to Carlyle's last imitator, be credited, that 'a universal rising of Royalists combined with Anabaptists' broke out in March 1655. On the contrary, it must be accepted as a preliminary condition in this investigation that England was, at that time, in a state of immovable tranquillity, and that any insurrectionary movement during the year 1655 sprang from a far-reaching design, which Cromwell practised alike on friends, neutrals, and enemies.

That this was the case has hitherto escaped notice. Every historian, who has taken part in the Cromwelliad, regards that revolt as 'a very tragic reality;' they all agree, that it was 'prevented from breaking into a dangerous flame by vigilance, prompt action, and by necessary severity.' That this event might be regarded in a very different light was an idea far from every one of them. Proof, however, goes before disproof. The historians should have their say first; and our readers must endure, for a few moments, what may be termed the received version of the Insurrection of March 1655.

According to Godwin, 'A general rising was meditated about the beginning of March 1655, by the Royalist party in various parts of England,—Yorkshire, Shropshire, Nottinghamshire, Devon and Wilts,' and also in North Wales. 'Wilmot, about this time created Earl of Rochester, came over to England' to head the enterprise, 'accompanied by Sir J. Wagstaff. Charles II., who had spent the winter at Cologne, now came privately to Middleburg in Holland, that he might be ready to pass over to England, if the condition of affairs authorized such a measure. The activity of Cromwell and his assistants speedily defeated these multiplied intrigues. It does not appear that hostilities anywhere were actually commenced, except in Yorkshire and the West of England.'

As historians persist that on Marston Moor, the scene of the 'hostilities' in Yorkshire, an actual affray occurred,—Carlyle throws in 'a few shots fired';—we must turn to the 'Perfect Proceedings' News Letter, of March 1655, for a truer description of that event:—

'York. The 8th of March instant, there was a meeting appointed by the Malignants in Yorkshire to surprise York City. To that end a party was to come on the west side of the City, where Sir Richard Malliverer, with divers others, was on their March. About 100 horse came with a cart load of arms and ammunition to Hessey (i. e. Marston) Moor. And at the wynd-mill upon the Moor there came some intelligence, that a party, that shd have come on the other side of the City, was not ready that night. And more company failing, which they expected to meet them that night upon the Moor they suddenly and disorderly retreated; some Pistols was scattered and found next morning, and a led horse, with a velvet saddle, left in Skipbrig Lane, which was found next day.'

In Wiltshire, however, the Royalists effected a brief revolt, an incident which the following quotation from Carlyle will readily recall to mind:—

'Sunday, March 11th, 1655, in the City of Salisbury, about midnight, there occurs a thing worth noting. Salisbury was awakened from its slumbers by a real advent of Cavaliers. Sir John Wagstaff, "a jolly knight" of those parts, once a Royalist Colonel: he, with Squire, or Major Penruddock, "a gentleman of fair fortune," Squire, or Major Grove, and about two hundred others, did actually rendezvous in arms about the Big Steeple, that Sunday night, and ring a loud alarm in those parts. It was Assize time; the Judges had arrived the day before. Wagstaff seizes the Judges in their beds, seizes the High Sheriff, and otherwise makes night hideous;—proposes on the morrow to hang the Judges, as a useful warning; but is overruled by Penruddock and the rest. He orders the High Sheriff to proclaim King Charles; High Sheriff will not, not though you hang him; Town-crier will not, not even though you hang him. The Insurrection does not spread in Salisbury, it would seem. The Insurrection quits Salisbury on Monday night, marches with all speed towards Cornwall, hoping for better luck there. Marches;—but Captain Unton Crook marches also in the rear of it; marches swiftly, fiercely; overtakes it at South Molton in Devonshire, "on Wednesday about ten at night," and there, in a few minutes, put an end to it. We took Penruddock, Grove, and long lists of others; Wagstaff unluckily escaped ... and this Royalist conflagration, which should have blazed all over England, is entirely damped out. Indeed so prompt and complete is the extinction, thankless people begin to say there had never been anything considerable to extinguish. Had they stood in the middle of it,—had they seen the nocturnal rendezvous at Marston Moor, seen what Shrewsbury, what Rufford Abbey, what North Wales in general, would have grown to on the morrow,—in that case, thinks the Lord Protector, not without some indignation, they had known!—Carlyle's 'Cromwell,' vol. iv. pp. 129, 130.

If Carlyle had been more heedful he might have taken the hint furnished by those 'thankless people.' Men are not usually thankless if preserved from a real and obvious danger. Carlyle, however, thought that he knew more about those transactions than the men who might have witnessed them; and so we will accept his somewhat incautious invitation, and our readers, if they choose to do so, shall perceive, perhaps, 'not without some indignation,' what the Lord Protector 'had known' about the insurrection of March 1655; they shall, to a certain extent at least, regard that event from his point of view. And to enable them to do so as promptly as possible, they may be at once informed, that the Protector himself admitted the Earl of Rochester, Sir John Wagstaff, and their associates into England, in order that they might, in his behalf, play the part of the conspirator. The circumstance being appreciated, the Protector's position becomes quite clear. It is obvious that he wished his subjects to believe, in common with his historians, that England was, during the opening months of 1655, 'from end to end of it, ripe for an explosion.'

Taking then for granted, upon Cromwell's own showing, that he wanted an insurrection, the assistance toward that end on which he could rely, and the obstacles that stood in his way, must be considered. The assistance which Cromwell had at hand, lay in the little band of courtiers who hung in penury, and vexation of heart, round Charles II. Wanderers on the Continent, in total ignorance of English opinion, acutely sensible of their own discomfort, raging against their great Tormentor, the King's 'over sea' counsellors were, by irritation and by 'zeal, made so blind,' that they were 'soon persuaded of good success' in any possible attempt to overthrow the Protector.[30] The chief hindrance to Cromwell's projected insurrection was his palpable prosperity. It was notorious during the winter and spring of the year 1655, that he had appeased discontent among his soldiery; had quieted, in prison, Harrison, Wildman, and the leaders of the Anabaptists; that the Levellers were reduced to inaction; and that therefore the Royalists were powerless. And for this reason. Every Englishman, even the most 'Wildrake' among the Cavaliers, knew full well, that they, unassisted, could not for a moment stand before Cromwell's armies; and they knew equally well, that if the King landed on our shores, at the head of a foreign army, all England would meet him with passionate resistance. Even at the best, the most confident Royalists knew that a young man, nurtured by a popish mother, and amidst papists, would not be readily accepted as our King.

But one chance, therefore, remained to the Royalists, both at home and abroad: and that was the possibility that Anabaptist fanaticism and army discontent might unite together against the Protector. If that could be reckoned on, and if a rising of the Royalists, all over England, could be timed so as to explode, when the Levellers broke into action, that would offer a chance indeed, especially if some of the mutineers could be won over to the King. That chance was, at this season, wholly denied to the Royalists. The King's most trusted English advisers, the Council styled 'The Sealed Knot,' repeatedly warned him during January 1655, that 'since no rising of the Army is to be hoped for, any rising of the King's party would only be to their destruction.'[31]

To a person who desired to stimulate an insurrection against the Protector the course was therefore clear. He must act on the impatient credulity of those who shared in their King's exile. Far from the scene of action, they might be persuaded that the Anabaptists and the discontented soldiers had leagued together, and that the warnings of the 'Sealed Knot' might be set at naught. Charles was thus acted upon. As the wicked King of Israel was lured on to his destruction by the cry of false prophets bidding him to go up and prosper, the King was persuaded to disregard his best counsellors, to believe that 30,000 Royalists were armed and ready to join in an organized revolt, so skilfully planned that it would break out, at one moment, all over England, with the co-operation of the Levellers, and of a portion of Cromwell's army. Charles was also assured, that if he would but fix the day, the insurrection would immediately take place.

The King was hard to persuade; young as he was, his sagacity was not wanting. He long remained incredulous: he did not believe the 'expresses' which reached him 'every day' from England: he felt sure that those zealous emissaries were deceived. More messengers accordingly crossed the water: they were confident that 'the rising would be general, and many places seized upon, and some declare for the King which were in the hands of the army, for they still pretended, and did believe, "that a part of the army would declare against Cromwell, at least, though not for the King."'

Those messengers, however, would promise nothing, if Charles did not, when the Earl of Rochester and his associates started for England, approve the reality of the plot, by stationing himself on the sea coast, that he might 'quickly put himself into the head of the Army, which would be ready to receive him.' And he was warned that this was his last chance, and that 'if he neglected that opportunity,' his followers would desert him, as one hopelessly apathetic. Besides these threats, the persons, who dispatched those messengers from England, resorted to other means to force Charles into the enterprise. They appointed the day for the outbreak: he was not able 'to send orders to contradict it:' so he felt constrained, 'with little noise,' to quit Cologne for Middleburg, to await there the summons to England.

Whilst Charles was being thus cajoled, the bright anticipations of his companions were suddenly saddened. In the midst of their preparations, Cromwell arrested several noted Royalists in London: it was obvious that he had discovered 'the design.' But that dark cloud had its silver lining; it was even converted into an augury of success. The conspirators at Cologne were 'cheered by letters' from their colleagues in England, assuring them 'that none of their particular friends at the intended sea-ports were known.'

Clarendon, and his associates, little knew how much was known by Cromwell. He afterwards repeated in public, almost word for word, 'all those particulars' which these 'expresses' 'communicated in confidence' to the Royal Court 'to let them know in how happy condition the King's affairs were in England;' he was forewarned of the very day when Charles would 'with little noise' quit Cologne for Middleburg 'ten days before he did stir;' and if so, even Clarendon would have perceived, that the Protector felt quite assured about the safety of his sea-ports.[32]

That the project proved in the end, as Charles expected at the beginning, a weak and improbable attempt, Clarendon admits, and that they had been befooled; but he maintained, to the end, that those messengers were 'very honest men, and sent by those who were such.' Clarendon's opinion is not so indisputable, but that it may be questioned. The utter failure of the promises that those messengers held out, might have aroused his doubt as to their good faith. Who was it then that instructed those false prophets? So improbable were the expectations which they urged upon Charles, that it is impossible to credit any true Royalist with the creation of those false hopes: to dispel them, the King's wisest English advisers did their utmost. Those encouragements then must have been the counsels of false friends. And who could be, as we shall prove, a warmer, or a falser friend to the enterprise of March 1655, than Cromwell?

Even without direct proof of Cromwell's guilty complicity in that attempt, it is brought home to him by a variety of antecedent circumstances. He knew precisely how to spread the only lure that could ensnare the King; for the counsels of the 'Sealed Knot' were no secret to Cromwell. He was aware that the King had, in consequence, written, 4th Jan. 1655, to Mr. Roles, 'his loving friend,' and probably also the Protector's friend, in a tone of utter despair.[33] And who could set against the King a stream of systematic false encouragement, sufficient to dispel his just despair, except Cromwell, who had all the secret agents at home and abroad at his command? or who would undertake so difficult a task as the creation of such an elaborate scheme of deception, but one who was anxious that the outbreak should take place? And we know that such was his wish.

In every way this is apparent. Even though no actual assistance be given, still complete foreknowledge of a coming mischief, unfollowed by corresponding precautions, implies a sanction. And this form of sanction Cromwell gave to the Insurrection. In a tone of triumphant cunning he assured his Parliament, during the ensuing year, that he had possessed 'full intelligence of' the conspiracy; though, with characteristic craft, he concealed the most effectual informant 'of these things,' the clerk who wrote out the despatches in the King's closet; and poor Manning, 'as he was dead,' was credited with the discovery; although his term of espial was not commenced soon enough to supply that 'full intelligence,' of which his employer boasted.[34]

Cromwell could even have informed his corps of informers, of the course that the coming movement would pursue. Two months before they began to reflect back to him an account of his own design, Cromwell's detection office in Whitehall contained a report from a supposed Leveller, who had passed from Essex to Cornwall, and then from Cornwall to Scotland, that a rumour was afloat, that the republicans in the army who were 'resolved to stand by their first principles, in opposition to the Government,' had banded together, under noted leaders, and had chosen the very places afterwards selected by the Royalists, namely, Salisbury Plain and Marston Moor for the rendezvous where they might show their strength. Other informers reported to Cromwell that the Royalists in London, and in Northumberland, hoped, that if they appeared in arms, they would be able to 'make use of a good part of the army;' and similar evidence warned the Government that a man claiming to be a Royalist had been at work, during February, journeying to and fro between Gloucestershire and Wiltshire, tempting Royalists to join with him in an insurrection, because 'the design was first put on foot by the Levellers, who were to be aiding and assisting the Cavaliers.'[35]

This information reached Cromwell in ample time for action. A word from him to his agents abroad, a hint to the editors of the News Letters, or a proclamation, would have dispersed those mischievious rumours, and would have reduced Charles to inaction. Although he knew that Charles based his sole hope of success upon an Anabaptist revolt, and a mutiny in the army, Cromwell did nothing of the kind. Not that he failed to secure himself by some ostensible precautions. 'It having pleased God to make some further notable discovery to Us of the Conspiracy, and the particular Persons engaged therein,' Cromwell arrested some Royalists, shortly before the outbreak, but, as we know on the best authority, he touched none of those 'engaged therein.' He secured London: he moved troops from Ireland to Liverpool, and may thereby have disconcerted the Lancashire Cavaliers; but he did not forewarn the Customs House officers at Dover, or guard that port; just as he, subsequently, somehow failed to station soldiers near those obvious points of danger, Marston Moor and Salisbury Plain.[36] 'Oliver, Protector,' evidently 'understood his Protectorship moderately well, and what Plots and Hydra-Coils were inseparable from it.'

Cromwell thus assisting us, we had before us the relative positions of all engaged in the Insurrection, during the last weeks of February 1655. Charles was on the Dutch coast awaiting a possible summons to England; to that end he had despatched the expedition, composed of the Earl of Rochester, Sir John Wagstaff, Major Armourer, Mr. O'Neale, and their companions, about fourteen in number; and Cromwell was watching them, and was preparing for their reception at Dover, not soldiers, but the friendly assistance of his servant, Mr. Day, the Clerk of the Passage. In true Cavalier fashion the Earl of Rochester and his comrades approached our shores, with ostentatious contempt of danger. They came not in a small party, dropping over one by one, selecting different and out-of-the-way spots for landing, but almost in a body, in quick succession, they alighted at Dover. That was the most public port they could have chosen; and being courtier Cavaliers, long resident abroad, they were, in dress and look, marked men, and most unfitted to play the part they chose, of traders resident in France or Holland. Their selection of Dover was not, however, so ill-advised as it seemed, for they also reckoned on the help of Mr. Day, the Clerk of the Passage.

Thus in appearance, at least, the conspirators did everything they could to get themselves into trouble. And, as might be anticipated, Major Armourer, alias 'Mr. Wright,' and his man 'Morris,' that is to say, Mr. O'Neale, the first of that company to set foot in Dover, were immediately arrested. Armourer was imprisoned in the Castle, and O'Neale in the Sergeant's house. Their detention, however, was of but brief duration. Armourer at once sought for help through Mr. Day's agency; but one greater than the Clerk interposed; and after about three days captivity, Mr. Wright, together with some other captured suspects, was released by the Dover Port Commissioners 'on receipt of a Commission from H.H.' the Protector.[37]

That Commission from His Highness was no ordinary proceeding. By it Cromwell disturbed order and discipline in the chief entrance-gate to England, and drove the Port Commissioners into direct collision with the officers of Dover Castle. Captain Wilson, the Deputy-Lieutenant, who had charge over the Castle prisoners, was, as shown by his letters, a straightforward servant of the Protector. Such a serious interference with his duties, as the release of one of his own prisoners, disturbed him; and the more so, as it was authorized by the Protector himself. Accordingly he wrote to Thurloe, greatly troubled, to free himself from any connection with so untoward an event as the escape of Mr. Wright, who,—of all the men that Wilson 'had secured'—was the very one with whom he was most unsatisfied.' Thurloe also felt that it was an awkward affair; and to avert suspicion from his Master and himself, he reverted to a mean trick, the causeless accusation of an innocent man. He reproved Wilson for neglecting to warn Whitehall of the detention of such a noted suspect as Mr. Wright; although Thurloe was in no ignorance of that event, and knew all about the prisoner. For besides the knowledge which he shared with Cromwell, of the near advent of the Earl of Rochester and his associates, Thurloe held a letter signed 'N. Wright,' dated 'Dover Castell, 14th February,' to Sir R. Stone, a supposed friend, who, forwarding it to Thurloe, informed him that Morris therein mentioned was a 'gentleman to the Princess Royal;' whilst it was evidently presupposed by Stone, that the Secretary would know who it was 'that writ' the enclosed letter; as, indeed, is proved by Thurloe's indorsement, 'Nicholas Armourer to Sir Robert Stone.' And again, within seven days after Armourer's release, a similar 'cross-providence' occurred. A Mr. Broughton, evidently another Royalist, was taken out of Captain Wilson's custody, much to his surprise and vexation, and set free by the Mayor of Dover.

The release of one or two prisoners under a Commission from H.H. the Protector does not, however, prove that he purposely admitted into England that gang of conspirators. But even that can be proved. Thurloe and Cromwell knew on the best authority that the Royalists regarded Mr. Day as their ally; for Armourer, in that letter, mentions 'Mr. Robert Day, Clarke of the Passage' as a man ready to do him service. Yet Cromwell, knowing that Armourer and O'Neale were the precursors of even more dangerous associates, who would also resort to Mr. Day, retained him in his post; and in spite of prompt and repeated warnings from the Continent, that Day was a traitor, he acted as Clerk of the Passage until, during the following July, he had seen safe back across the Channel the conspirators whom he had admitted in March. And as if the more fully to trick the Royalists, Day was permitted by the Protector to intervene actively in their behalf. The Clerk of the Passage obtained, by his personal undertaking for Armourer's good conduct, the requisite pass inward, and certified that he was, in truth, a merchant from Rotterdam.[38]

It follows from the assistance which the Protector gave to Armourer, that his man 'Morris' was restored to his master, and that the Earl of Rochester, after repeated detention and examination, was set free. And again Cromwell reappears as the patron of the conspiracy. According to information imparted to the King by Cromwell's nephew, Colonel William Cromwell, 'my Lord of Rochester was known to Cromwell to be in England as soon as he landed,' and was met by pretended agents from the army, Rochester's friends 'in show,' but the Protector's 'really,' who, to make the Earl 'have the greater confidence' in the enterprise, gave him false offers of co-operation, and assurances that Cromwell's soldiers were ripe for mutiny.[39] And facts confirm Colonel Cromwell's words.

Immediately after his final escape from the custody of Captain Wilson, the Earl of Rochester 'found Mr. Morton, who carries on their trade there, ready to come, with some account of his business.'[40] If Morton had been a true Royalist, in momentary fear for himself, and for the success of an insurrection that was to overthrow the Protector, would he have risked a meeting with the Earl of Dover, in a place where he had been twice arrested, instead of awaiting his arrival in the security of London? Such a strange course arouses strong suspicion that Morton was the Protector's emissary referred to by Col. Cromwell; and assuredly a Mr. Morton is mentioned to Thurloe, by one of his continental agents, as a friend, and fellow sham-Royalist, who might assist him in enticing some of the King's retinue into projects, such as the 'murther of H. H. the Protector.'[41]

Nor was Mr. Morton the only agent busy in doing all he could 'to ripen the design of a general rising.' During January and February, 1655, messengers passed to and fro through the Northern and Western districts of England to prepare the way for the Earl of Rochester and his associates, who spread abroad rumours that the 'Levellers were to be aiding and abetting the Cavaliers,' and that on the 8th of March, a general rising would take place. Two men can be traced who thus prepared Wiltshire for insurrection, one of whom was the chief instigator of Wagstaff's rising at Salisbury.

Both of them were obscure men, not known in that part of England. An unnamed emissary came from Yorkshire, passing through London, to Dorsetshire, taking, on the way, the house, near Lewes, of Col. Bishop, a Leveller, one of the Wildman faction.[42] The other, Mr. Douthwaite, reached Wiltshire from Somersetshire. This circumstance, of itself, aroused suspicion; and he was asked why, if the revolt, as he asserted, was to be throughout all England, he did not choose Somersetshire, instead of Wiltshire, for the scene of action. The reason he gave for that choice had in it a strong dash of unreality. His motive was, he declared, because 'if he did any mischief, or killed anybody,' he preferred to do mischief 'among strangers, where he was not known.' So unsatisfactory was his demeanour, that a recruit, whom he endeavoured to cajole, refused to join the conspiracy, declaring that 'he was confident this was a plot of my Lord Protector's own devising, and that he had some of his own agents in it.' And as, during that winter, the Dorsetshire Cavaliers had 'whispered that the plot' then 'so loudly talked on at Court, is nothing but a trick of the great Oliver's,' this idea seems to have been prevalent in the West of England. Some such whisper, undoubtedly, had a marked influence on the Wiltshire revolt. Not a single landowner of importance went out with Wagstaff. Though he had been told off by the King expressly for that service, no Royalist of eminent position answered the King's call. They, also, doubtless suspected Douthwaite, an unknown, low-class stranger, who took upon himself to summon them to arms against the Protector. And Douthwaite was undoubtedly the chief instigator of that attempt, 'the very principal verb' in the affair: a very capable witness, Major Butler, so described him. In itself this was a suspicious circumstance. And another reason may be urged for deeming that Cromwell, and not the King, was served by Douthwaite. Like a shady witness, he proved too much. Antedating the event by at least three weeks, he asserted in February, that Charles had left Cologne for the Dutch coast, 'for an opportunity to sail for England.' This was a startling piece of news, and most arousing to a hearty Royalist: and the King did take that step on the 4th of March. But it is noteworthy that a foreknowledge of the King's movements, which was undoubtedly possessed by Cromwell and Thurloe in London, should have been so speedily communicated to Douthwaite, in the depths of Somersetshire.[43]

Whilst England was thus being prepared for the coming insurrection, the Earl of Rochester went to London, where, although soldiers were stationed at the ends of the streets, and extra precautions taken against the Royalists, 'he consulted,' as Clarendon observes, 'with great freedom with the King's friends.' Nor were he and his comrades hindered from traversing England, and passing on into Wiltshire and Yorkshire, that they might head the intended rendezvous of the Royalists on Salisbury Plain and Marston Moor; the very places, it should be remembered, that rumour had designated for a gathering of the Levellers. Cromwell was powerless: he dared not touch the men he had passed into England: the object for which he had admitted them must be fulfilled, even to the end.

That the end, which Cromwell desired, followed the lines indicated by his master hand, might be anticipated. But he could not allow the project to become too real; a necessity that rather stood in his way. His power of creating the semblance of an actual insurrection was limited. Of the 'hidden works,' all over England, which he attributed to the Royalists, but one mine actually exploded, one nearly went off, and the rest remained dormant. The tameness of that shadowy meeting on Marston Moor evidently caused Cromwell much vexation. As his dupes refused to exhibit themselves, and as not a soldier was near at hand, paragraphs in the News Letters, 'some pistols scattered' on the heath, and 'a led horse, with a velvet saddle,' were all the proofs that Cromwell could show that aught had happened on Marston Moor, during the night of the 8th of March. Nor could he solemnize the event, as he desired, by the appearance on the scaffold of a single Yorkshireman.

He sent, for that purpose, to York as Judges, Baron Thorpe, Mr. Justice Newdigate, and Mr. Serjeant Hutton; but they refused to obey his bidding. They declined to try upon a capital charge the men that had been arrested by the Protector's informers, not in arms nor on horseback, nor even on the highway, but in their own houses. The judges were doubtful 'whether in point of law,' a possible midnight ride could be declared by them 'to be treason.' It was in vain that Colonel Lilbourne used 'diligence' to 'pick up such as are right,' to serve on the jury. The judges even left York altogether, objecting that due notice, under which they could try that 'great affair,' had not been given.

Pressure was renewed upon Newdigate and Hutton; they were despatched back to York, to undertake the trial of the Marston Moor prisoners. Cromwell's law officer, however, found them at Doncaster, on their return to London, and in a very contrary state of mind. They again refused to act; and they based their refusal on an objection, which affected not those prisoners alone, but all Cromwell's prisoners. They asserted, evidently reckoning on Baron Thorpe's concurrence, that they could not, as judges, put in force the Ordinance, by which Cromwell had adapted the Statute Law of England to meet the crime of high treason against himself, because it was of no validity! They thus anticipated, in the most unpleasant way, Mr. Coney's refusal to pay taxes imposed, not by an Act of Parliament, but by an 'Ordinance.' Cromwell was forced to yield; the Yorkshiremen preserved their lives, but not their liberty or their estates; and almost immediately, 'Judges Thorpe and Newdigate were put out of their places, for not observing the Protector's pleasure in all his commands.'[44]

Cromwell's 'pleasure' was, however, served by Mr. Serjeant Glyn and Mr. Recorder Steele, and by the jurymen, 'such as were right,' over whom they presided, in the trial of the Salisbury insurgents. Those poor dupes pleaded what may be termed, Baron Thorpe's plea. They argued that their indictment was not founded on an Act of Parliament, and that 'there can be no treason by an Ordinance.' They urged that a sentence pronounced by the Serjeant and the Recorder, who were mere 'pleaders, servants to the Lord Protector,' would be illegal; and they asserted their right to be tried by Baron Thorpe, 'a sworn judge.' The prisoners, who could not be convicted of high treason, were condemned to death as horse stealers. They vainly pleaded, that to requisition a horse for a warlike enterprise was not felony, and that 'the country knew we did not intend to steal,' but acted 'as the soldiers did now at London, and elsewhere, who came against us.'[45] About fourteen of those poor fellows were put to death, with Grove and Penruddock; and seventy were sold into West Indian slavery. Accordingly Cromwell was able, as Thurloe exulted, to prove 'that the Plot was real,' as 'the persons were real,' who, in consequence, lost their lives, or were condemned to lifelong misery.

Thus Cromwell, by a deliberate course of fraud, compassed the death of men, who might otherwise have lived void of offence against his government. He next proceeded to delude all his subjects by means of the sham conspiracy by which he had ensnared his victims on to the scaffold. This development in Cromwell's course of deception brings us back to the ordinary path of history. Every historical text-book mentions that Cromwell, within a few months after the Insurrection of March 1655, subjected England to the authority, almost unlimited, of twelve Major-Generals. To each one a separate province was allotted, with power to imprison, fine, or sell as slaves, all that he might select. The Major-Generals also were directed by Cromwell to pay themselves, and the soldiers under them, by the levy of a tax of ten per cent. on the incomes of all but the poorest Royalists, which he imposed for that purpose. As historians have believed in the reality of the Insurrection of March 1655, they hold that Cromwell, therefore, 'found himself compelled to divide England into districts, over which he set Major-Generals,' and to inflict upon the Royalists the tax, 'known by the name of the Decimation.' Yet, curiously enough, these hearty believers in Cromwell have ignored that solemn confirmation of their opinion, which he addressed to his subjects, namely, the 'Declaration of his Highness, by the advice of his Council, showing the Reasons of their Proceedings for Securing the Peace of the Commonwealth, upon occasion of the late Insurrection and Rebellion,—October 31, 1655.'

Than this document, no more admirable illustration could be given of the manner in which Cromwell carried on his Protectorate. By that 'Declaration' he engrafts into his policy the deception he had practised on the Royalists, and adapts it to the benefit of the whole nation, by a description of the pious uses to which it could be applied. And for our purposes this document is especially convenient, for, whilst it proves what Cromwell wished his people to believe about the Insurrection, it enables us to disprove throughout the statements that he makes. But before we can reach that portion of our disclosure, the operative clauses of the 'Declaration' must be dealt with. It commences with a justificatory recital of the misdeeds of the Royalists. As God, Cromwell argues, 'by His gracious dispensation,' had 'subjected' the Royalists 'to the power of those whom they had designed to enslave and ruin,' 'the Parliament's party' might, Cromwell asserts, have 'extirpated those men, with designs of possessing their Estates and Fortunes.' Their conquerors, however, refrained themselves, 'it having pleased God in his providence, so to order things;' and the Royalists were allowed to live and 'enjoy their freedom, and have equal protection in their persons and estates, with the rest of the Nation.' But what return, the Protector declares, has been made by the Malignants for the lenity thus extended to them? 'The actings of that party' proves that 'neither the dispensations of God, nor kindness of men, would work upon them;' that 'they were implacable in their malice and revenge'; and he cites 'the late Insurrection and Rebellion,' 'as the greatest and most dangerous' of all 'their hidden works of darkness.'

The Protector therefore announces, that as 'he knows by experience, that nothing but the Sword will restrain the late King's party from blood and violence,'—'We do now not only find Ourselves satisfied, but obliged in duty, both towards God and this Nation, to proceed upon other grounds than formerly,'—and that, to secure 'the Peace of this Commonwealth, We have been necessitated to erect a new and standing Militia of Horse, in all the Counties of England, under such Pay as might be a fitting encouragement to the officers and soldiers. And We, therefore, have thought fit, to lay the burthen of Maintaining those forces, upon those who have been engaged in the late Wars against the State.' And Cromwell declares, in conclusion, that 'We can with comfort appeal to God, whether this way of proceeding with 'the Royalists' hath been the matter of Our Choice, or that which We have sought occasion for; or whether contrary to Our own inclinations, We have not been constrained and necessitated hereunto, and without the doing whereof, We should have been wanting to Our Duty to God and these Nations.'

Such words uttered by a man who, with utmost fervour, has claimed for himself, that 'I have learned too much of God, to dally with Him, and to make bold with Him in these things,' ought surely to be believed; and if there be any one who is still unconvinced that Cromwell, of his own 'choice,' enticed the Earl of Rochester and his associates across the Channel, and admitted them into England, that they might constrain and necessitate him to appoint those Major-Generals, 'we can with comfort appeal' to that 'Declaration' and ask such a believer in Cromwell to follow us in a comparison between what he really did, with what he declared he did, 'for securing the Peace of the Commonwealth upon the occasion of the late Insurrection.'

In order that his subjects might appreciate the skill and vigilance, by which the 'contrivements' of the 'cruel and bloody enemy had been thwarted, Cromwell commenced the account of his execution of his duty as England's Protecter by a general description of the projects of the Royalists in March 1655. He asserted that they intended to surprise and seize London, and all the principal ports and cities throughout England, and that they reckoned on the support of more than 30,000 armed men. This description of the projects and resources of the Royalists may be at once, and contemptuously set aside: it was founded upon lies supplied by such men as Manning, the spy, or Bamfield, the informer. Cromwell's words were contradicted by the abortive and petty nature of the insurrection, by the obvious refusal of all England to join in the enterprise, and by the conduct of the Protector himself. For he would not have placed England at the mercy of the Earl of Rochester and his companions, had he thought that they could call 30,000 men to arms, or that every important town from London to York, was in danger. Having thus dealt out fiction by wholesale, and ascribed the overthrow of that 'great and general design' to 'The Lord,' Cromwell proceeds, according to this method, to show how that was accomplished.

Beginning with the rising at Salisbury, he declared that

'the Insurrection in the West was bold and dangerous in itself, and had in all likelihood increased to great Numbers of Horse and Foot by the conjunction of others of their own party, besides such Foreign forces, as in case of their success, and seizing upon some place of Strength, were to have landed in those parts, had they not been prevented by the motion of some troops, and diligence of the officers, in apprehending divers of that Party a few days before; and also been closely pursued by some of our Forces, and in the conclusion supprest by a handful of men, through the great goodness of God.'

As Charles had not at his disposal a single ship, or one soldier in the pay of any foreign Power, the possibility of a foreign invasion needs no disproof. And how did Cromwell deal with his enemies at home? Shortly before the rising of the 11th of March, troops were undoubtedly moved about in Wiltshire: their course can be traced from day to day. As the Protector, according to his habit, bases his statements as far as he can, on facts, so far we can agree with him. But as certainly as they were marched about, Cromwell's soldiers were marched not towards, but away from Salisbury.

During the latter part of February, Major Butler, the officer in charge over Wiltshire, wrote to Thurloe, telling him that as Bristol was in 'a peaceable state,' the Major intended to leave that city. He did so: just eleven days before the outbreak he was on the march to his central station, at Marlborough, when a messenger from the Protector, summoned him back to Bristol. Butler was, in consequence, detained there, whilst the event took place; nor did he reach Salisbury until the third day after the insurgents had left the town. Cromwell knew what he was about: on the very Sunday when Wagstaff took possession of Salisbury, Cromwell occupied Chichester by horsemen, sent there at daybreak; and he dispatched a warning to Portsmouth, that 'some desperate design was on foot.' But he kept his soldiers away from Salisbury. He took this course, although he knew that Salisbury Plain had been named as a Levellers' rendezvous; and although he had received a report, about three weeks before the 11th of March, from an officer sent to Salisbury on police duty, 'that it would be convenient for some horse to be quartered hereabouts,'[46] because the Royalists in the neighbourhood were restless.

And Cromwell himself proves why Major Butler was detained at Bristol: for when he did reach the scene of the revolt, though the insurgents had been two days at large in the neighbourhood, and were disbanding, drifting aimlessly towards Devonshire, Butler was withheld from active operations by orders from Whitehall. He was directed to keep at a distance from the insurgents for fear of a mishap. This is shown by the opening words of Butler's letter of remonstrance to the Protector. 'Now, my Lord,' Butler wrote, 'though I know it would be of sad consequence if we assaulting them should be worsted,' still, he pleaded with much earnestness that he, under 'the good providence of The Lord' would assuredly be successful. So palpably absurd it was to suppose that his four troops of horsemen could not make short work of that undisciplined, badly armed, and disheartened band of men, that Butler declared, that he could not 'with any confidence stay' here at Salisbury, 'nor look the country in the face, and let them alone.''[47]

The Protector, however, was resolute. Butler was forced to let the enemy alone; and, after four days' delay, they yielded at South Molton to one troop of horse sent after them from Weymouth. Thus it was Cromwell, and not Butler, as was surmised by a contemporary observer, who kept his troopers 'at a distance in the rear' of the Royalists, 'to give them an opportunity of increasing.'[48]

With this suspicion afloat, and Major Butler unable 'to look the country in the face,' Cromwell felt that to ascribe the suppression of Wagstaff's attempt mainly to the 'close' pursuit of the enemy 'by some of Our Forces,' would hardly suffice. He accordingly also attributed that happy result 'to the goodness of God,' and to 'the diligence of the officers in apprehending some of the party.' In this statement Cromwell made some approach to the truth. Butler had been diligent; and though he failed to seize Douthwait, that mysterious 'principal verb', still, during the last two weeks of February, he did arrest suspects in the West of England, but none within the district round Salisbury.[49] Wagstaff and his comrades were undisturbed, whilst preparing for their attempt. Nor is it an unfounded assumption, if their security is attributed to the same influence which sanctioned Wagstaff's repair to the rendezvous, and which protected him from Major Butler's horsemen.

Having thus dealt with that 'bold and dangerous insurrection in the West,' Cromwell turned northward, and took in hand that rather vague affair at Marston Moor, on which, as he asserted, 'the enemy most relied.' His account of that event was, that the Royalists who met there dispersed and ran away in confusion, partly because of a failure among the plotters; but also, 'in respect that Our Forces, by their marching up and down in the country, and some of them providentially, at that time, removing their Quarters, near to the place of Rendezvous, gave them no opportunity to reassemble.' Again, Cromwell is, to a certain extent, correct. Divided counsels did keep one of the principal Yorkshire Royalists from the meeting, and he may have had followers; and others were stayed, when on the march, by a timely warning that they were on a fool's errand. But the assertion, that the Royalists were dispersed by a providential movement of troops, and by 'Our Forces marching up and down' Yorkshire, is utterly false. And, as before, the witness against Cromwell is one of Cromwell's servants. An officer, responsible for the peace of Yorkshire, reported to his chief in London regarding himself and his comrades, that 'notwithstanding all our frequent alarums from London of the certainty of this plot, carried on with such secrecy on the traitor's part, though we were upon duty, and in close quarters, we had no positive notice of it till the day was past.' And no other soldiers were in that neighbourhood during the night of the 8th of March. The only martial display that the occasion called forth, was the march of two troops of horsemen into York about three or four days subsequently; and the officer in command reported that if more men were wanted, they must be drawn from Durham, Newark, or Hull.[50]

Thus it was that Cromwell dealt with 'the Insurrection of Yorkshire.' If the Royalists had, in truth, 'reckoned on 8000 in the North,' or if York had been in danger, soldiers, and not 'alarums' would have been sent into Yorkshire. Nor was he mistaken in deeming that the Royalists relied most on that attempt. Hoping to find a large gathering of Levellers in arms against the Protector, many of the principal Yorkshire landowners, of higher rank and more influential than poor Penruddock or any of his comrades, met that night on Marston Moor. And probably it was owing to their social position, that the trick was not fully played out, and that, sorely to Cromwell's disappointment, they saved their lives.

Besides the insurrectionary displays at Salisbury and Marston Moor, it was arranged that on the 8th of March similar symptoms should appear in various other places, to create the idea that 'the Design was great and general.' Cromwell was accordingly able to declare that 'the coming of 300 foot from Berwick' dispersed 'those who had rendezvoused near Morpeth to surprise Newcastle:'—that in North Wales and Shropshire, where they intended to surprise Shrewsbury, 'some of the chief persons being apprehended, the rest fled:'—and that, 'at Rufford Abbey, Notts, was another rendezvous, where about 500 horse met, and had with them a cart load of horse-arms, to arm such as should come to them; but upon a sudden, a great Fear fell upon them,' and they, also, dispersed themselves, and 'cast their arms into the pond.' Nor did the Protector omit to describe the action of 'other smaller Parties,' also in motion during the night of the 8th of March, who, 'as in the Town of Chester designed the surprise of the Castle there, but they, failing in their expectations, were discouraged for that time.' 'And thus by the goodness of God, these hidden works of darkness' were discovered. 'Fear' was 'put into the hearts' of the cruel and bloody enemy, and their great and most dangerous design was 'defeated, and brought to nothing.'

The depositions on which Cromwell based his description of the minor passages of the Insurrection are all mere informers' tales, none rising above the inanity of the story of a tobacco-pipe-maker's attack on Chester Castle, of which more anon; and, from Carlyle's point of view, this sample of Thurloe's papers might assuredly be classed among 'human stupidities.' But Carlyle has overlooked the fact, that to Cromwell these depositions were an important element in his government, and were worked up into his speeches and the 'Declaration of October 1655. Hence the greater the absurdity of those documents, the greater their historical importance, as showing, not only how the Royalists were duped, and how Cromwell duped his subjects, but also that the tricks of his trepanners were so clumsy that, almost without exception' no Cavaliers of any standing were drawn into the Protector's game.

An apt example of the kind of evidence on which Cromwell based his statements, and also a comical illustration of his propensity to cling to fact in the midst of fraud, is afforded by that alleged 'rendezvous' of Royalists 'to surprise Newcastle.' If his spies are to be believed, presumably with that object, on the 8th of March, 'about 3 score and 10 horsemen armed with swords and pistols' met by night 'at a place called Duddo;' and then vanished, not, however, for fear 'of 300 foot coming from Berwick,' but because the conspirators were warned 'that there was 300 sail of ships come into Newcastle, for fear of whom they durst not fall upon Newcastle at that time.' Much in the same way, and during the same night, a party of Royalist gentlemen and their servants, repaired to the inn on Rufford Abbey Green; and a real cart was driven to the door containing 'horse-arms,' fifty-six pair of pistols, two buff coats, two suits of arms, &c., and was then driven away, and the party broke up. So far the Protector's words are verified by the very full information that Thurloe collected regarding the Rufford Abbey incident; but if to the conspirators therein specifically mentioned, a large addition be made for 'divers unnamed gentlemen,' seen 'coming in and going out of the inn-door,' the plotters cannot be rated at much above 20, instead of at Cromwell's 500.

The Protector's concluding statements may be briefly disposed of. Shrewsbury Castle was to have been taken by 'two men in the apparel of gentlewomen,' acting in combination with their comrades, 'in certain alehouses near unto the said castle;' and the determined purpose of these plotters may be tested by the temper of their ringleader, who urged his recruits to appear at the rendezvous, but refused for his part, to join with them, 'because his wife was not well.'[51] The Shropshire insurrection was, indeed, of so visionary a nature, that zealous Commissary Reynolds could not manipulate it into any definite shape. Though sent to Shrewsbury that he might develop the existence of 'a general plot of the malignants' in the West of England, he entirely failed. And so annoyed was he at his failure, that he suggests to Thurloe, that it would 'not to be unfit to make' the malignants 'speak forcibly, by tying matches, or some kind of pain, whereby they may be made to discover the plot;' and as he re-urges his craving to inflict torture on his prisoners, the proposal had drawn no disapproval from the Secretary.[52]

An account of the 'great and signal disappointment, as great as any this age can produce,' which the 'goodness of God' inflicted upon that 'smaller party,' 'who' according to Cromwell, 'designed the surprise of the castle' of Chester, forms an appropriate close to this portion of our narrative. An 'exceeding poor' dupe, Francis Pickering, tells the story, and the duper was a Colonel Worthing. After enticing Pickering into the plot by assurances of a general rising against the Protector, on the night of the 8th of March, Worthing announced that his part in the design 'was principally to surprise the Castle of Chester;' and as related by Pickering, while he and the Colonel remained quietly at home.

'Accordingly that night three or four went, sent by Col. Worthing' to seize the Castle: they were all inhabitants of Chester, and one of them is commonly known by the name of Alexander, the tobacco-pipe-maker. These persons brought back word to Col. Worthing that at the place where they intended to raise a ladder to surprise the Castle, they heard a sentinel walk and cough. At which report Col. Worthing was very much startled! and sent them back again to seize any other convenient place; and they brought back word that they had centinels walking.'[53]

No third attempt was made by Mr. Alexander and his friends; and next day Pickering was told by Worthing 'that he was much troubled, for that he could not contrive how to take said Castle;' and, in due time, Pickering found himself in custody.

In singular contrast to the vague and absurd stories told by 'exceeding poor' and foolish men, such as Mr. Pickering and his fellow plotters, are the numerous and positive assurances that Cromwell received from his own officers, that all was well with England both before, during, and after the Insurrection of March 1655. Headed by Thurloe, they are all unanimous in reporting 'that the nation was much more ready to rise against, than for Charles Stuart;' that, in the town of Leeds, 'not thirty men were disaffected to the present Government;' and that 'there was no design on foot' even in 'the most corrupt and rotten places of the Nation,' such as Hampshire, Dorsetshire, Kent, and the Eastern Counties. From Bristol to York all was quiet, or wished to be so, during February, March, and April, 1655.[54]

Further illustration of this statement is needless. For, if Cromwell had thought otherwise, even though he might in his wisdom have admitted the Earl of Rochester and his associates into England, he certainly would not have allowed them to remain here, apparently as long as they chose, after their enterprise was over. That the Protector gave them this freedom of action is made singularly clear by the Thurloe Papers': they contain repeated indications of the 'whereabouts' of the Earl of Rochester, the leader of the revolt. He and Major Armourer did not, after the Marston Moor failure, fly to the coast, or seek separate hiding-places. They journeyed together, with two servants, leisurely through England towards London: and to guard his safety, Rochester would not disturb his bedtime, or his dinner-hour. After the outbreak, people were naturally anxious to pick up what they could, by arresting 'the great ones.' Of these, Rochester was the greatest; and he and Armourer were arrested at Aylesbury. The resident magistrate gave a warrant to the constable, desiring him to keep safely the bodies of the Earl and his three companions, 'in the name of my Lord Protector.' The warrant was acted upon; the prisoners evidently were 'persons of great quality.' Yet somehow, both magistrate and constable left the Earl and the Major in charge of the innkeeper 'where they lay;' and naturally enough, 'when the constable came in the morning, he found that the innkeeper had let the two chiefs escape,' taking with them 'all their rich apparel.'[55] Had this been merely a sample of Aylesbury carelessness, the incident need not have been noticed. But the example of the magistrate and constable was followed by Cromwell. Although the escape of Rochester and Armourer was promptly known, and their course was closely tracked, and though Cromwell was informed where they might be found, they 'wrote very comfortably from London;' and they endeavoured 'to lay the foundation of some new design.' And at last, as if he were an ordinary traveller, sending his servants before him, Rochester left England for the Continent, having been a resident here for about five months; and the latter part of his stay in England was a season of extraordinary severity against the Royalists. In like manner, every one of his thirteen comrades returned 'weekly without difficulty' to their King's presence, apparently at their pleasure; whilst Cromwell's continental informers repeated their warnings that 'Day, the Clerk of the Passage,' is 'a rogue,' and that if the Protector had 'been ruled' by them 'all these had not escaped.'[56]

In this matter, and indeed throughout his connection with the Insurrection of March 1655, Cromwell was not his own master. The conditions under which he obtained the espial of one of the King's most trusted friends, and a member of the 'Sealed Knot,' formed a complete protection to the Earl of Rochester and his associates. Nor for his own sake could he touch those conspirators. Their seizure would have disclosed the fact, that 'persons in the very bosom of our enemies' gave him 'intelligence;' and hence, if 'he once discovered the grounds, he would destroy the intelligence.'[57] Anyhow, it is evident that Cromwell could with entire safety allow his most determined enemies to remain in England, and lay foundations for new projects against him.

Having seen Cromwell's conspirators safe home again, tribute must be paid to his amazing dexterity. The Prince of Wire-Pullers, he made his puppets perform what part he chose. Some jerked the royal doll Charles, against his liking, from Cologne to Middleburg, and some warned him to keep quiet, and others seemed to fight against the manager of the show, though in reality they fought in his behalf: all played Cromwell's game, whilst they thought they were playing their own; and even the most innocent outsiders were pressed into his service. With comic audacity he assured his audience that the more trivial was the scene at Salisbury, the more they ought to recognize its dramatic force. 'Observe,' he said, 'when this Attempt was made—it was made when nothing but a well-formed Power could hope to put us into disorder. Do you think that' such a company of mean fellows 'would have attacked Us, if they had not been supported by vast unseen forces behind the scenes.'[58] With what cruel craft, but seeming indifference, the artful old showman treated his manikins! He cut off the heads of some amongst those who responded most vigorously to his touch; whilst others, not less free upon the wire, were carefully packed up, and sent home safe. By seizing and boxing up in the Tower mere bystanders, wholly unconcerned in the sport, he made his 'little tin soldiers' fancy that he did not see their antics. The only hitch in his 'knavish piece of work' arose when, too assured, he placed upon the boards a real live judge, who refused to take the bench in the manager's sham Court of Justice. In every other respect the mystery play was a complete success; everybody was puzzled, players, spectators, and the gentlemen of the press; not one even guessed at the true meaning of the performance; though a few 'men of wicked spirits' would try to peep behind the curtain. But they never found him out; they all danced to Cromwell's tune, but none discovered that the pipe they heard was in their Protector's mouth. Even Ludlow, with all the proverbial opportunities of a bystander, though most anxious to know his great opponent's game, never guessed that he had patched up the Insurrection of March 1655, from the beginning to the end.

And such was Cromwell's power of deception, that though dead, he still deceived; his works did follow him, as he desired, out of sight. He seems to have anticipated that the records of his detective department might remain as a witness against him, and to have cast over the 'Thurloe Papers' a spell, that has hitherto rendered them invisible. For nearly 150 years these evidences of his 'hidden works of darkness' have been before the world; but Cromwell has preserved his secret; he has humbugged every historian as effectually as he hoodwinked his contemporaries. The 'Thurloe Papers' were published in 1742, well edited and indexed; they contain the documents which Cromwell himself read and handled, the notes of his speeches, the information of his spies, the letters of his enemies and of his clerks. Though called after Thurloe, those papers are, in fact, Cromwell's own. Yet such is the glamour that he has cast over all that has approached him, that they have accepted his words without question, or, if they have read his writings, they have read them according to his inspiration.

Yet there was much even in that Insurrection itself to arouse suspicion. Cromwell, in January 1655, assured his Parliament that he had crushed the various conspiracies which were then on foot against him, all most 'real dangers,' and that he had disarmed and rendered powerless those conspirators; yet within six weeks they had organized a universal revolt, and had secreted stores of arms and ammunition all over England. This universal revolt broke out at Salisbury, 'bold and dangerous'; and it was put down by a single troop of horsemen, after the rebels had paraded, disheartened and deserted, across England. Except on that occasion, the vast design was suppressed without the aid of a single soldier or even a beadle. And, strangely enough, the Protector himself supplied a hint which might have provoked some curiosity about the nature of that 'Rebellion.'

For surely it is odd that 'such a terrible Protector this; no getting of him overset!' should have been compelled to contend with the notorious and obstinate incredulity of the members of his Parliament regarding the late attempt to overset him? Yet Cromwell's speech of September 1656 is pervaded with expressions such as these, regarding the 'bold and dangerous Insurrection' of March 1655,—'I think the world must know and acknowledge, that it was a general design,'—'I doubt if it be believed, that there was any rising,' either in North Wales or at Shrewsbury, or on Marston Moor, 'at the very time when there was an Insurrection at Salisbury'—' therefore, how men of wicked spirits may traduce Us in that matter—I leave it!'[59] Surely 'sluggish mortals, saved from destruction,' not caused by secret agencies, but from an actual 'Rebellion,' which threatened to bring every one of them into 'blood and confusion,' need not be required to believe in the very existence of so great and conspicuous a danger!

And Cromwell felt that he could not afford to leave that 'matter' untouched. A suspicion was prevalent, during the whole of Cromwell's reign, that plots were manufactured to suit his purposes. He knew that full well; he knew also the danger of such a suspicion. The surmises of the 'men of wicked spirits,' were those 'half tales,' that 'be truths.' It had been hoped that such a 'real plot' as 'the late Insurrection,' would give that suspicion a quietus. When it was safely transacted, Thurloe and his associates congratulated each other over that hope.[60] But it was not fulfilled. Hence arises the tone of angered honesty, which Cromwell so repeatedly assumed when he addressed his Parliament, and Carlyle's indignant protest—'What a position for a hero, to be reduced continually to say he does not lie!'

But what was Cromwell's motive in the fabrication of this Insurrection of March, 1655? It was not, as might be suggested, a device to thwart by a premature explosion, a dangerous conspiracy during a critical moment in the Protectorate. Cromwell himself asserts in his 'Declaration,' that 'this Attempt was made, when nothing but a well-formed Power could hope to put Us into disorder; Scotland and Ireland being perfectly reduced; Differences with most Neighbour Nations composed; our Forces, both by Sea and Land, in order and consistency.' Nay, he artfully converted the very security of his Government into a proof that 'the pretended King' would not have sent over his servants, and that the Royalists would not 'have actually risen' at Salisbury, had the insurrection been other than 'a general design,' based on a vast secret organization. No one in all England possessed more certain knowledge, than did Cromwell, that such was not the case, and that he could not plead in his behalf the poor excuse, that the Nation as a Nation needed a severe lesson, or that it was to save England from civil war that he had sacrificed the lives of those fourteen victims of his deception, and consigned that band of seventy or eighty Englishmen to the horrors of West Indian slavery.

But if Cromwell could not claim that excuse, what then was his motive? Dark as was the light within him, he was not in such utter darkness as to encompass himself about with written, spoken, and acted lies merely to gratify caprice, or that he might indulge in causeless cruelty. His motive was a very simple one. He was forced to obey his servant, the Army. The men whom he had made, and who had made him, demanded a visible share in the power and profit that he enjoyed. Reverting to the autumn of 1654, much had then occurred to disquiet the Army. Cromwell had taken a distinct step towards Kingship, by attempting to persuade Parliament to make the Protectorate hereditary. Parliament had made a distinct movement towards a large reduction in the Army and Navy. If rumour be evidence, there was, during November, 'a great division in the army.' And it is certain that, at the close of that month, Cromwell and his military men came to terms. At a meeting held in St. James's Palace, the staff of the army agreed 'to live and die with Cromwell.'[61] And a train of events, occurring in direct sequence after that meeting, proves that it was at this conjuncture that Cromwell agreed to parcel out his Protectorship among the leading officers of the Army. Parliament was dissolved 22nd January, 1655, on the pretext that under its shadow, conspiracy and discontent had thriven; and Cromwell gave an alarming account of the 'real dangers,' of imminent insurrection and anarchy, that threatened England. That speech was the prologue; then came the tragedy itself, the Insurrection of March, 1655; then came its consequence, the appointment of the Major-Generals. And in the end, the reason why they were appointed, was brought to light by a state of affairs, very identical with that which had raised them to power.

Cromwell had renewed the attempt that he had made in the autumn of 1654, and in his quest after Kingship he had come, during February 1657, almost within sight of the throne. Again the army officers interfered; and again Cromwell was forced to meet them face to face; to receive, on this occasion, their protest against his acceptance of the Crown. He made a compromise as he had done before; but in speech, he was not conciliatory. If the Protectorate had been a failure, he told his former comrades, it was their fault. It was they, and not he who had governed; as for himself, 'they had made him their drudge upon all occasions: to dissolve the Long Parliament,' and 'to call a Parliament or Convention of their naming,' which proved so unsuccessful; and then another Parliament, alike in unsuccess; and he concluded that catalogue of their untoward interferences with his government, by reminding his hearers that they thought it was necessary to have Major-Generals; adding that so they 'might have gone on,' if they had not insisted on his calling the Parliament of 1656, against his will, which had given them 'a foil.'[62]

That speech is the most exceptional, in some respects the most important, of all Cromwell's speeches. Spoken if not 'in haste,' certainly 'out of the fulness of the heart,' that is caused by anger, it is, though unusually brief, delightfully incautious. Being addressed to men who could not well be deceived, the speech must be true, at least so far as they are concerned, in every particular; it does not contain a single appeal to God; and of no other among Cromwell's speeches, are the original MS. notes in existence. This speech, of the utmost historic importance, is essentially unheroic in tone and circumstance,—the querulous complaint of a master against servants who have overmastered him,—an assertion of supremacy made by a man, who felt that he was not really supreme. But the singularity that attends the address to the recalcitrant officers is not yet exhausted. Surprise may well be felt that Carlyle, with this speech before him, ventured on the construction of his false image of Cromwell, the Hero. Judged even as an ordinary ruler, he must have been a very sorry Protector who, according to his own showing, was only a sham supreme magistrate,—the minister, the 'drudge,' of his servants but real masters—who had compelled him to call, and to dissolve Parliaments, and to impose on England those military despots.

Carlyle has endowed his ideal Protector 'with the virtue to create belief,' by the force of self-assertion, which still finds its imitators, by pouring out contempt on all who differ from him, and by implying that, as all other Cromwellian authorities are 'stupidities and falsities,' he alone was wise and true. This was but a risky basis on which to exhibit 'this Oliver' to the world, as the noblest Hero 'among the noblest of Human Heroisms, this English Puritanism of ours,' and as 'not a Man of falsehoods, but a Man of truths.' But reading over these words, and calling to mind the confidence with which Carlyle compels all to join with him in his Cromwell-worship, it is impossible to resist the conviction, that it was with good faith that he could see in Cromwell 'the glimpses,' even the revelation 'of the god-like,' and that he would not attend to aught that disclosed Cromwell 'not' as 'august and divine, but hypocritical, pitiable, detestable.' Even though he claimed a familiar acquaintance with the 'Thurloe Papers,' he must have been ignorant, it is impossible to think otherwise, of the black stories which Cromwell's 'expertest of secretaries' could publish against his master.

And passing from the worshipper to the Idol; surely it is but in accordance with common sense and common charity to hope that, as with Carlyle, so also with his Oliver, the real Cromwell was wholly shrouded from Cromwell's sight. That hope might, indeed, be forbidden by some. It might be argued that, although many a wrong-doing, such as bloodshed, oppression, or even treachery, has been committed by men in the sincere belief that they were doing God service, Cromwell cannot be placed among that group of self-deceivers: that he stands by himself, and on a lower level. It was to save himself, to propitiate a gang of mutinous servants, that Cromwell contrived and wrought out the deception of March, 1655, and obtained in the bloodshed that it produced, the essential result that he desired. And then, to give validity to his imposture, to grace it with the Divine sanction, he ascribed his course of acted and uttered lies, and the cruelty and misery they had engendered, to God himself.

Undoubtedly that statement is true. But yet on the other hand it may be pleaded, that nothing but an intense living conviction, that God was with him in all his ways, could have enabled Cromwell to make 'with comfort' his 'appeal to God, whether' the Insurrection of March 1655 'hath been the matter of Our Choice' or 'according to Our own inclinations?'

This is but a sorry plea to urge in Cromwell's behalf. The blackness and the fury of the storm, which roared across England during his dying hours, cannot have exceeded the blinding energy of that strong delusion, that ever drove him onward, through his cruel and crooked devices, fully persuaded that 'God was even such a one as' himself. Though all may agree in believing that it was not from the lips, but truly from the heart—not to cheat his hearers, but in a veritable ecstasy—that Cromwell claimed to stand before God, as one who 'had learned too much of God, to dally with him,' still it must be felt, that such an assertion, coming from such a Protector, reveals a mental condition that baffles the understanding. But as man, when he shrinks from passing judgment on another, ever takes the better part; and as even with the best amongst us, the relation of the soul to God is a question which, of all others, should not be intermeddled with, assuredly we must leave Cromwell, whose being is one of 'the deep things of God,' to His judgment.—'Hell and destruction are before the Lord: how much more then the hearts of the children of men?'