As in Ireland so in Scotland the separate national Parliament ended, and was replaced by representation in the Parliament of Great Britain. The incorporating union, which James I. had unskilfully attempted, the Long Parliament decreed, and the Protector realised. In 1652, commissioners sent by the Long Parliament extorted a reluctant consent to the principle of the union, but the details were still unsettled when Cromwell became Protector. By the “Instrument of Government,” Scotland was assigned thirty members in the British Parliament, and the Protector’s ordinances completed the work. English statesmen regarded the union as a generous concession. It was intended by the Parliament, says Ludlow,
“to convince even their enemies, that their principal design was to procure the happiness and prosperity of all that were under their government,” and “was cheerfully accepted by the most judicious amongst the Scots, who well understood how great a concession it was in the Parliament of England to permit a people they had conquered to have a part in the legislative power.”
In reality, both ecclesiastical and national feeling were arrayed against it. “As for the embodying of Scotland with England,” said Robert Blair, “it will be as when the poor bird is embodied in the hawk that has eaten it up.” With few exceptions all classes regarded the incorporating union with hostility and aversion.
The Protector hoped to reconcile Scotland to the union by the material benefits which accompanied it. Absolute freedom of trade between the two countries, proportionate taxation, and a better system of justice were promised. Nor were these empty words. Tenures implying vassalage and servitude and heritable jurisdictions were abolished. Popular courts-baron were set up, English justices of the peace introduced, the fees of the law courts diminished, and new judges appointed who administered the laws without fear or favour. Even Scots admitted the improvement in the administration of justice. “There was good justice done,” says Burnet. “To speak truth,” adds Nichol, “the English were more indulgent and merciful to the Scots, than the Scots to their own countrymen and neighbours, and their justice exceeded the Scots’ in many things.”
The civil administration of Scotland was in the hands, at first, of parliamentary commissioners, and, after 1655, of a Scottish Council of Nine appointed by the Protector, which included two Scots. Under their vigorous rule, such order was maintained as Scotland had never known before. The Highlands were tamed by the English garrisons, and the mosstroopers of the border hunted down and punished. A man, boasted one of the English officials, might ride all through Scotland with a hundred pounds in his pocket, and nothing but a switch in his hand.
The class which benefited most by these reforms was the middle class. “The towns,” wrote Monk to Cromwell, “are generally the most faithful to us of any people in this nation.” In 1658, Cromwell, describing to his Parliament the condition of Scotland, exulted over the improvement which English rule had produced.
“The meaner sort,” he said, “live as well and are likely to come into as thriving a condition under your government, as when they were under their own great lords, who made them work for their living no better than the peasants of France. I am loath to speak anything which may reflect upon that nation; but the middle sort of people do grow up into such a substance as makes their lives comfortable, if not better than before.”
Burnet, in his description of the Cromwellian régime in Scotland, goes so far as to say, “we always reckon those eight years of usurpation a time of great peace and prosperity.” But this is an evident exaggeration. The devastation and loss caused by the long wars had produced widespread poverty. “I do think,” admitted the Protector, “the Scots nation have been under as great a suffering, in point of livelihood and subsistence outwardly, as any people I have yet named to you. I do think truly they are a very ruined nation.” The weak point of English rule was the heavy taxation which the necessity of maintaining so large an army in Scotland caused. Baillie’s letters are full of complaints of the burden of taxation. “A great army in a multitude of garrisons bides above our heads, and deep poverty keeps all estates exceedingly under; the taxes of all sorts are so great, the trade so little, that it is a marvel if extreme scarcity of money end not soon in some mischief.” The English Government had originally imposed a land tax of ten thousand pounds per month on Scotland, but this was levied with such difficulty that it was finally reduced to six thousand pounds. And in the year of Cromwell’s death, England had to remit to Scotland a contribution of over £140,000 towards the expenses of the military government which held Scotland in obedience.
Scots in general regarded the benefits which English rule conferred as too dearly purchased at the cost of heavy taxes and national independence. In Ireland, for weal or woe, the Cromwellian conquest left an ineffaceable mark on the national history. In Scotland, on the other hand, all that Cromwell had done, or tried to do,—union, law-reform, and freedom of trade,—vanished when the Restoration came. But the aims of his policy were so just that subsequent statesmen were compelled to follow where he led. The union and free trade came in 1707, and the abolition of hereditary jurisdictions in 1746.
