The step was tyrannical; the application was more odious still. Cromwell gained the money of which he was in need, but the majors-general nearly everywhere abused their power. Returning into the old path of revolutionary violence, the parties once more found themselves at contention, not in the way of civil war, but of resisting oppression. The allaying of mutual passions and hatreds, and the establishment of a regular and legal government continued to be a vain hope for England. Cromwell felt it to be so, and struggled bitterly against that conviction.
In the midst of the disorder and violence which he could not or would not repress, Cromwell always had the honor of understanding and respecting liberty of conscience. Constrained by the fanaticism of his friends to oppress the Catholics, often even the Anglican Church, he secretly used leniency towards the latter, and left to all the sects which divided England among them a full and absolute independence. He protected them against each other, defending even the liberty of George Fox, the founder of the Quakers; the Jews, who asked to be allowed to establish themselves in England; and the Republican men of letters like Harrington, who dedicated to him his Republican Utopia of Oceana. He at the same time defended the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge against the ignorant and ardent sectaries who would have destroyed those "Episcopal" homes, and he took pleasure in restoring to them something of their past splendor. Few despots have contrived like Cromwell to restrain themselves within the limits of practical necessity, while leaving to the human mind a vast and free field of action.
All these efforts in the direction of a good internal government did not suffice to found his power upon solid basis. Cromwell sought foreign renown. At the end of October, 1655, he had sent Blake into the Mediterranean, at the head of a large fleet, to cruise round Spain and survey its ports, while Admiral Penn was preparing to extend the war to the Spanish colonies in America. Blake acquitted himself of his mission as usual, repressing the acts of piracy and barbarity in the seas which he overran; bombarding Tunis, which had refused him water, and exhibiting boldness and moderation in turn. The Republican admiral caused the English flag to be everywhere respected. Cromwell was conscious of this and laid great stress upon it. "That is how things must be done," he said, "and I will render the name of Englishman as great as was ever that of Roman."
Unfortunately, the expedition of Penn had partly failed in its object: the attack upon St. Domingo completely miscarried through the stupidity of the commanders and their want of foresight; the object of all these efforts and cost was confined to the taking of Jamaica. The great attempt against the Spanish colonies proved more profitable to Mazarin than to Cromwell: it was a definite rupture between the Protector and Spain. The shrewd French minister hastened to take advantage of it. On the 24th of October, 1655, the Spanish ambassador, Cardeñas, embarked at Dover to return to his country, and on the same day a treaty between France and England was signed—a treaty of commerce which became, towards the end of November, a treaty of alliance. The situation of the Protector in Europe became every day grander and more powerful; but, for eighteen months, he had governed alone and arbitrarily: his firm good sense warned him that absolute power soon exhausts itself. He wanted money to wage war against Spain. The moment appeared to him propitious for at length founding legal order, and he again convoked a Parliament.
When the House assembled, on the 17th of September, 1656, the efforts of the Protector and of his majors-generals had not succeeded in preventing the entrance of a great number of indomitable republicans. Vane and Bradshaw had failed; Ludlow and Harrison had not presented themselves; but Haslerig, Scott, Robinson, and some hundred of their friends had been elected. At the door of the Session Hall were guards, who asked of each a certificate of admission. The majority presented it: a hundred and two members were without one and could not enter. The tumult was great. The Master of the Rolls of the Commonwealth was sent for. He arrived in great haste. "His Highness," he said, "had given orders that the certificate of admission should be given only to members approved of by the Council." On the morrow, Nicholas Furnes, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, appeared at Westminster. "According to the constitutional act of the Protectorate," he said, "none could be elected member of Parliament who was not a man of recognized integrity, fearing God, and of good conduct. It was the duty of the Council to consider whether the elect combined these conditions, without which none could be admitted to sit."
Thus mutilated at the outset in its functions, the House accepted its humiliation. The rejected members appeared before the Council of State; their protest was useless. Parliament passed on to other matters, being in haste, it was said, to occupy itself with affairs of state. But public opinion was opposed to the arbitrary act of the Protector; it weighed upon the whole assembly. Feeble and inconsiderate, it preserved at the bottom of its heart the impression of the affront which it had suffered, and a desire to be avenged.
Cromwell, however, was in need of Parliament, for he was meditating a great enterprise. Being assured of the necessity of founding that great order which he had re-established upon durable bases, he contemplated taking the title of king, which had been proposed to him by his lieutenants at the time of the constitutional act of the Protectorate, and which he had then refused. His pretensions amounted to nothing less than placing his family upon the re-established throne. His eldest son, Richard, was of peaceful tastes and manners, with little capacity for government and contention, but he could lean for support upon his brother Henry, who had recently given proof of his capacity as governor-general of Ireland. Parliament appeared devoted; fortune had favored the Protector with a lucky incident. The squadron which was cruising in the seas of Spain had captured a fleet of Spanish galleons, coming from America and laden with gold. The treasures were brought triumphantly to London; the people were enthusiastic; the House voted the new taxes demanded by the Protector. The idea of royalty was everywhere rife in people's minds, and it easily gained favor throughout the country.