CHAPTER I.
Richard Cromwell succeeded his father in the government of the realm, as if his family had from of old occupied the throne. What renders this fact the more remarkable is that the new ruler had never been a public character, except so far as holding offices of honour might be considered as giving him that appearance. He had spent a quiet and almost unnoticed life, in the retirement of Hursley Park, in Hampshire—an inheritance he had acquired by marriage,—and there, in the society of neighbouring Cavaliers, he had enjoyed the sports of a country gentleman. Imbued with loyalty to the Stuarts, notwithstanding his father's position; conforming to the Established religion, without any sympathy in his father's opinions; indeed, destitute of deep religious feeling of any kind, as well as of genius, enthusiasm, and force of will, he stood ill-prepared to sustain the enormous responsibility which now fell upon his shoulders.
1658.
Instantly after Oliver's death, on the 3rd of September, the Council assembled and acknowledged Richard's title. All the chief cities and towns in the dominion were informed that the late Protector—"according to the petition and advice in his lifetime"—had declared his "noble and illustrious son to be his successor." The Mayor and Aldermen of London proceeded to Whitehall with condolences and congratulations; and the new Protector, in their presence, took the Oath of the Constitution, administered to him by Fiennes, a Lord Commissioner of the Great Seal. Manton offered prayer, and blessed His Highness, "his council, armies, and people."[2]
Proclamation of Richard's accession throughout the country immediately followed; and, according to a custom which had originated under the Protectorate, addresses, overflowing with adulation, poured in from various public bodies. Foreign courts, too, acknowledged the Protector's title, and honoured his father's memory. "It a sad thing to say," remarks Cosin, writing from Paris, "but here in the French Court, they wear mourning apparel for Cromwell; yea, the King of France, and all do it."[3] Richard's chief councillors were Lord Broghill, the Royalist, who had been a faithful servant to Oliver; Dr. Wilkins, Warden of Wadham College, Oxford, married to the late Protector's sister; and Colonel Philip Jones, one of the Protectorate Lords. The union between these councillors sufficiently indicates that no extreme ecclesiastical policy could be contemplated; and, accordingly, in the month of November, a Declaration appeared, couched in liberal terms, conceding general toleration, and promising to godly ministers "their dues and liberties, according to law."[4]
RICHARD'S PROTECTORATE.
Richard was tolerant both from disposition and policy; owing to circumstances, he sympathized more with Presbyterians than with Independents; perhaps he would not have been adverse to some kind of modified Episcopacy. Moderate people, of different parties, therefore, looked kindly upon his sway; but it soon appeared that the embers of discontent were smouldering still. Scarcely had he worn his title one month, when his brother, Henry Cromwell, wrote in an alarming tone to Lord General Fleetwood, who had married Henry's sister. "Remember," he says, "what has always befallen imposing spirits. Will not the loins of an imposing Independent or Anabaptist be as heavy as the loins of an imposing Prelate or Presbyter? And is it a dangerous error, that dominion is founded in grace when it is held by the Church of Rome, and a sound principle when it is held by the Fifth Monarchy?" "Let it be so carried, that all the people of God, though under different forms, yea, even those whom you count without, may enjoy their birthright and civil liberty, and that no one party may tread upon the neck of another."[5] Henry Cromwell feared lest certain well-known unquiet spirits, now that his sire's strong hand had crumbled into dust, should disturb the peace of the country, and, under pretence of universal freedom, throw everything into confusion. He had reasons for his fear.
1659.