The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1, Thomas Babington Macaulay [ebook pc reader txt] 📗

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which he had learned in the war of the Palatinate did not save

him from the disgrace of being surprised and baffled by such a

Captain as Rupert, who could claim no higher fame than that of an

enterprising partisan.


Nor were the officers who held the chief commissions under Essex

qualified to supply what was wanting in him. For this, indeed,

the Houses are scarcely to be blamed. In a country which had not,

within the memory of the oldest person living, made war on a

great scale by land, generals of tried skill and valour were not

to be found. It was necessary, therefore, in the first instance,

to trust untried men; and the preference was naturally given to

men distinguished either by their station, or by the abilities

which they had displayed in Parliament. In scarcely a single

instance, however, was the selection fortunate. Neither the

grandees nor the orators proved good soldiers. The Earl of

Stamford, one of the greatest nobles of England, was routed by

the Royalists at Stratton. Nathaniel Fiennes, inferior to none of

his contemporaries in talents for civil business, disgraced

himself by the pusillanimous surrender of Bristol. Indeed, of all

the statesmen who at this juncture accepted high military

commands, Hampden alone appears to have carried into the camp the

capacity and strength of mind which had made him eminent in

politics.


When the war had lasted a year, the advantage was decidedly with

the Royalists. They were victorious, both in the western and in

the northern counties. They had wrested Bristol, the second city

in the kingdom, from the Parliament. They had won several

battles, and had not sustained a single serious or ignominious

defeat. Among the Roundheads adversity had begun to produce

dissension and discontent. The Parliament was kept in alarm,

sometimes by plots, and sometimes by riots. It was thought

necessary to fortify London against the royal army, and to hang

some disaffected citizens at their own doors. Several of the most

distinguished peers who had hitherto remained at Westminster fled

to the court at Oxford; nor can it be doubted that, if the

operations of the Cavaliers had, at this season, been directed by

a sagacious and powerful mind, Charles would soon have marched in

triumph to Whitehall.


But the King suffered the auspicious moment to pass away; and it

never returned. In August 1643 he sate down before the city of

Gloucester. That city was defended by the inhabitants and by the

garrison, with a determination such as had not, since the

commencement of the war, been shown by the adherents of the

Parliament. The emulation of London was excited. The trainbands

of the City volunteered to march wherever their services might be

required. A great force was speedily collected, and began to move

westward. The siege of Gloucester was raised: the Royalists in

every part of the kingdom were disheartened: the spirit of the

parliamentary party revived: and the apostate Lords, who had

lately fled from Westminster to Oxford, hastened back from Oxford

to Westminster.


And now a new and alarming class of symptoms began to appear in

the distempered body politic. There had been, from the first, in

the parliamentary party, some men whose minds were set on objects

from which the majority of that party would have shrunk with

horror. These men were, in religion, Independents. They conceived

that every Christian congregation had, under Christ, supreme

jurisdiction in things spiritual; that appeals to provincial and

national synods were scarcely less unscriptural than appeals to

the Court of Arches, or to the Vatican; and that Popery, Prelacy,

and Presbyterianism were merely three forms of one great

apostasy. In politics, the Independents were, to use the phrase

of their time, root and branch men, or, to use the kindred phrase

of our own time, radicals. Not content with limiting the power of

the monarch, they were desirous to erect a commonwealth on the

ruins of the old English polity. At first they had been

inconsiderable, both in numbers and in weight; but before the war

had lasted two years they became, not indeed the largest, but the

most powerful faction in the country. Some of the old

parliamentary leaders had been removed by death; and others had

forfeited the public confidence. Pym had been borne, with

princely honours, to a grave among the Plantagenets. Hampden had

fallen, as became him, while vainly endeavouring, by his heroic

example, to inspire his followers with courage to face the fiery

cavalry of Rupert. Bedford had been untrue to the cause.

Northumberland was known to be lukewarm. Essex and his

lieutenants had shown little vigour and ability in the conduct of

military operations. At such a conjuncture it was that the

Independent party, ardent, resolute, and uncompromising, began to

raise its head, both in the camp and in the House of Commons.


The soul of that party was Oliver Cromwell. Bred to peaceful

occupations, he had, at more than forty years of age, accepted a

commission in the parliamentary army. No sooner had he become a

soldier than he discerned, with the keen glance of genius, what

Essex, and men like Essex, with all their experience, were unable

to perceive. He saw precisely where the strength of the Royalists

lay, and by what means alone that strength could be overpowered.

He saw that it was necessary to reconstruct the army of the

Parliament. He saw also that there were abundant and excellent

materials for the purpose, materials less showy, indeed, but more

solid, than those of which the gallant squadrons of the King were

composed. It was necessary to look for recruits who were not mere

mercenaries, for recruits of decent station and grave character,

fearing God and zealous for public liberty. With such men he

filled his own regiment, and, while he subjected them to a

discipline more rigid than had ever before been known in England,

he administered to their intellectual and moral nature stimulants

of fearful potency.


The events of the year 1644 fully proved the superiority of his

abilities. In the south, where Essex held the command, the

parliamentary forces underwent a succession of shameful

disasters; but in the north the victory of Marston Moor fully

compensated for all that had been lost elsewhere. That victory

was not a more serious blow to the Royalists than to the party

which had hitherto been dominant at Westminster, for it was

notorious that the day, disgracefully lost by the Presbyterians,

had been retrieved by the energy of Cromwell, and by the steady

valour of the warriors whom he had trained.


These events produced the Selfdenying Ordinance and the new model

of the army. Under decorous pretexts, and with every mark of

respect, Essex and most of those who had held high posts under

him were removed; and the conduct of the war was intrusted to

very different hands. Fairfax, a brave soldier, but of mean

understanding and irresolute temper, was the nominal Lord General

of the forces; but Cromwell was their real head.


Cromwell made haste to organise the whole army on the same

principles on which he had organised his own regiment. As soon as

this process was complete, the event of the war was decided. The

Cavaliers had now to encounter natural courage equal to their

own, enthusiasm stronger than their own, and discipline such as

was utterly wanting to them. It soon became a proverb that the

soldiers of Fairfax and Cromwell were men of a different breed

from the soldiers of Essex. At Naseby took place the first great

encounter between the Royalists and the remodelled army of the

Houses. The victory of the Roundheads was complete and decisive.

It was followed by other triumphs in rapid succession. In a few

months the authority of the Parliament was fully established over

the whole kingdom. Charles fled to the Scots, and was by them, in

a manner which did not much exalt their national character,

delivered up to his English subjects.


While the event of the war was still doubtful, the Houses had put

the Primate to death, had interdicted, within the sphere of their

authority, the use of the Liturgy, and had required all men to

subscribe that renowned instrument known by the name of the

Solemn League and Covenant. Covenanting work, as it was called,

went on fast. Hundreds of thousands affixed their names to the

rolls, and, with hands lifted up towards heaven, swore to

endeavour, without respect of persons, the extirpation of Popery

and Prelacy, heresy and schism, and to bring to public trial and

condign punishment all who should hinder the reformation of

religion. When the struggle was over, the work of innovation and

revenge was pushed on with increased ardour. The ecclesiastical

polity of the kingdom was remodelled. Most of the old clergy were

ejected from their benefices. Fines, often of ruinous amount,

were laid on the Royalists, already impoverished by large aids

furnished to the King. Many estates were confiscated. Many

proscribed Cavaliers found it expedient to purchase, at an

enormous cost, the projection of eminent members of the

victorious party. Large domains, belonging to the crown, to the

bishops, and to the chapters, were seized, and either granted

away or put up to auction. In consequence of these spoliations, a

great part of the soil of England was at once offered for sale.

As money was scarce, as the market was glutted, as the title was

insecure and as the awe inspired by powerful bidders prevented

free competition, the prices were often merely nominal. Thus many

old and honourable families disappeared and were heard of no

more; and many new men rose rapidly to affluence.


But, while the Houses were employing their authority thus, it

suddenly passed out of their hands. It had been obtained by

calling into existence a power which could not be controlled. In

the summer of 1647, about twelve months after the last fortress

of the Cavaliers had submitted to the Parliament, the Parliament

was compelled to submit to its own soldiers.


Thirteen years followed, during which England was, under various

names and forms, really governed by the sword. Never before that

time, or since that time, was the civil power in our country

subjected to military dictation.


The army which now became supreme in the state was an army very

different from any that has since been seen among us. At present

the pay of the common soldier is not such as can seduce any but

the humblest class of English labourers from their calling. A

barrier almost impassable separates him from the commissioned

officer. The great majority of those who rise high in the service

rise by purchase. So numerous and extensive are the remote

dependencies of England, that every man who enlists in the line

must expect to pass many years in