Richard Cromwell Protector—Parliament Called—Dissolved—Military
Government—Long Parliament Restored—Expelled Again—Reinstated—Monk In
London—Re-Admission Of Secluded Members—Long Parliament Dissolved—The
Convention Parliament—Restoration Of Charles II.
By his wife, Elizabeth Bourchier, Cromwell left two sons, Richard and Henry. There was a remarkable contrast in the opening career of these young men. During the civil war, Richard lived in the Temple, frequented the company of the Cavaliers, and spent his time in gaiety and debauchery. Henry repaired to his father's quarters, and so rapid was his promotion, that at the age of twenty he held the commission of captain in the regiment of guards belonging to Fairfax, the lord-general. After the establishment of the commonwealth, Richard married, and, retiring to the house of his father-in-law, at Hursley in Hampshire, devoted himself to the usual pursuits of a country gentleman. Henry accompanied his father in the reduction of Ireland, which country he afterwards governed, first with the rank of major-general, afterwards with that of lord-deputy. It was not till the second year of the protectorate that Cromwell seemed to recollect that he had an elder son. He made him a lord of trade, then chancellor of the university of Oxford, and lastly a member of the new house of peers. As these honours were far inferior to those which he lavished on other persons connected with his family, it was inferred that he entertained a mean opinion of Richard's abilities. A more probable conclusion is, that he feared to alarm the jealousy of his officers, and carefully abstained from doing that which might confirm the general suspicion, that he designed to make the protectorship hereditary in his family.[1]
The moment he expired, the council assembled, and the result of their deliberation was an order to proclaim Richard Cromwell protector, on the ground that he had been declared by his late highness his successor in that dignity.[2] Not a murmur of opposition was heard; the ceremony was performed in all places after the usual manner of announcing the accession of a new sovereign; and addresses of condolence and congratulation poured in from the army and
[Footnote 1: "The Lord knows my desire was for Harry and his brother to have lived private lives in the country, and Harry knows this very well; and how difficultly I was persuaded to give him his commission for Ireland."—Letter to Fleetwood, 22nd June, 1655.]
[Footnote 2: There appears good reason to doubt this assertion. Thurloe indeed (vii. 372) informs Henry Cromwell that his father named Richard to succeed on the preceding Monday. But his letter was written after the proclamation of Richard, and its contents are irreconcilable with the letters written before it. We have one from Lord Falconberg, dated on Monday, saying that no nomination had been made, and that Thurloe had promised to suggest it, but probably would not perform his promise (ibid. 365); and another from Thurloe himself to Henry Cromwell, stating the same thing as to the nomination.—Ibid. 364. It may perhaps be said that Richard was named on the Monday after the letters were written; but there is a second letter from Thurloe, dated on the Tuesday, stating that the protector was still incapable of public business, and that matters would, he feared, remain till the death of his highness in the same state as he described them in his letter of Monday.—Ibid. 366. It was afterwards said that the nomination took place on the night before the protector's death, in the presence of four of the council (Falconberg in Thurloe, 375, and Barwick, ibid. 415); but the latter adds that many doubt whether it ever took place at all.]
navy, from one hundred congregational churches, and from the boroughs, cities, and counties. It seemed as if free-born Britons had been converted into a nation of slaves. These compositions were drawn up in the highest strain of adulation, adorned with forced allusions from Scripture, and with all the extravagance of Oriental hyperbole. "Their sun was set, but no night had followed. They had lost the nursing father, by whose hand the yoke of bondage had been broken from the necks and consciences of the godly. Providence by one sad stroke had taken away the breath from their nostrils, and smitten the head from their shoulders; but had given them in return the noblest branch of that renowned stock, a prince distinguished by the lovely composition of his person, but still more by the eminent qualities of his mind. The late protector had been a Moses to lead God's people out of the land of Egypt; his son would be a Joshua to conduct them into a more full possession of truth and righteousness. Elijah had been taken into heaven: Elisha remained on earth, the inheritor of his mantle and his spirit!"[1]
The royalists, who had persuaded themselves that the whole fabric of the protectorial power would fall in pieces on the death of Cromwell, beheld with amazement the general acquiescence in the succession, of Richard; and the foreign princes, who had deemed it prudent to solicit the friendship of the father, now
[Footnote 1: The Scottish ministers in Edinburgh, instead of joining in these addresses, prayed on the following Sunday, "that the Lord would be merciful to the exiled, and those that were in captivity, and cause them to return with sheaves of joy; that he would deliver all his people from the yoke of Pharaoh, and task-masters of Egypt, and that he would cut off their oppressors, and hasten the time of their deliverance."—Thurloe, vii. 416.]
hastened to offer their congratulations to his son. Yet, fair and tranquil as the prospect appeared, an experienced eye might easily detect the elements of an approaching storm. Meetings were clandestinely held by the officers;[a] doubts were whispered of the nomination of Richard by his father; and an opinion was encouraged among the military that, as the commonwealth was the work of the army, so the chief office in the commonwealth belonged to the commander of the army. On this account the protectorship had been bestowed on Cromwell; but his son was one who had never drawn his sword in the cause; and to suffer the supreme power to devolve on him was to disgrace, to disinherit, the men who had suffered so severely, and bled so profusely, in the contest.
These complaints had probably been suggested, they were certainly fomented, by Fleetwood and his friends, the colonels Cooper, Berry, and Sydenham. Fleetwood was brave in the field, but irresolute in council; eager for the acquisition of power, but continually checked by scruples of conscience; attached by principle to republicanism, but ready to acquiesce in every change, under the pretence of submission to the decrees of Providence. Cromwell, who knew the man, had raised him to the second command in the army, and fed his ambition with distant and delusive hopes of succeeding to the supreme magistracy. The protector died, and Fleetwood, instead of acting, hesitated, prayed, and consulted; the propitious moment was suffered to pass by; he assented to the opinion of the council in favour of Richard; and then, repenting of his weakness, sought to indemnify himself for the loss by confining the