There have been few men known to history, who can be worthily compared with the subject of these pages for the extraordinary circumstances of their rise to power, or for their prudence and greatness in its enjoyment. We see in him a man of middle rank and moderate fortune, breaking out from privacy, if not obscurity, at a time of life when the fame of most men is at its meridian, of many at its close, and in a very few years raising himself to absolute power on the shoulders of his friends and on the necks of his enemies; and though we censure both the end of his political labours and the measures which led the way to it, yet in both there is much left for us to respect and to admire.

Oliver, the only son of Robert Cromwell and Elizabeth Stuart (the daughter of a knightly family in the Isle of Ely, said to have been related to the royal house), was born at Huntingdon, April 24, 1599. His grandfather, Sir Henry Cromwell, was four times Sheriff of the counties of Cambridge and Huntingdon; his uncle, Sir Oliver Cromwell, after whom he was named, was reputed to be the richest knight in England; and his family was related to the Earls of Essex, and to the houses of Hampden, St. John, and Barrington. It is necessary to mention the respectability of Cromwell’s connexions, because he is reported to have been a man of mean birth, by persons who vainly thought to fix a stigma on his great name by assigning to him a low origin.

After having received a good school education he was sent, at the age of seventeen, to Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge. He did not remain there long enough to complete his studies, but, leaving the University before the usual time, was entered at Lincoln’s Inn. His enemies accuse him of having been guilty of all manner of debaucheries, both at college and as a student of law; but as we know that his whole life, from the age of twenty-one, was severely moral, this accusation may be allowed to rest with the obscure memories of its authors. His father dying when Oliver had attained the age of twenty, he left London, and went to reside with his mother, who eked out her small jointure with the profits of a brewery which she had established, and conducted herself: hence came the contemptuous appellation, often bestowed upon Cromwell, of the “brewer of Huntingdon.” At the age of twenty-one he married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir James Bourchier, of the county of Essex. At this period of his life he was involved in some pecuniary difficulties, from which he was relieved by the death of his maternal uncle Sir Thomas Stuart, who bequeathed him an estate of between four and five hundred pounds yearly value in the isle of Ely, on which he took up his residence. Some of his biographers declare, “that because he prayed and expounded the word too much, and caused his servants to do the like,” he became again straitened in his circumstances. This has been the more readily believed, because he at this time became highly disgusted with the want of liberty of conscience in his own land, and had, in consequence, determined to exile himself to New England, along with his friend and cousin Hampden. He was actually embarked, when an order from the Privy Council, disallowing emigration without special license from the crown, put a stop to his voyage. He returned to his county, and was soon after elected by the burgesses of the town of Cambridge to serve them in the House of Commons. One of the first notices we have of his taking an active share in public business was his determined opposition to a plan, originated by the Earl of Bedford, and supported by government, for the drainage of the fens. His objection to this scheme was entirely of a political nature, since, during his Protectorate, it became a measure of his own. Hampden foretold his future rise from his vigorous conduct in this matter:—“He was a man who would sit well at the mark.” Cromwell was not, properly so called, an eloquent man. His ordinary speeches were rambling, verbose, and inelegant; but when he wished to make his purpose clear, his style was close, bold, and manly.

In the memorable year 1640, Cromwell was returned by the same borough to serve in the famous LONG PARLIAMENT,—the last Parliament of Charles the First. It was unfortunate for this prince that he fell on such times and such men. He came to the throne with his father’s overweening belief in the sacredness of kingly prerogative, and with the same obstinate notions concerning unity of creed and worship in matters of religion. The consequence of the first of these inherited feelings was his introduction, or rather enforcement, of unconstitutional modes of raising money, and distributing justice, beyond the patience of an age newly escaped from the thraldom of feudal restrictions; the effect of the latter was also past the endurance of a nation jealous of its lately-acquired and highly-prized religious liberty. In the struggle between the prince and the people, which these causes produced, Cromwell was among the foremost. He was one of seventy-five gentlemen who offered to raise each a troop of sixty horse in the service of the Parliament. This was the beginning of the military career which afterwards proved so glorious. He took great pains in the formation of his levies. This appears from his expostulation with Hampden, recorded by himself. “Your troops, said I, are most of them old decayed serving men and tapsters, and such kind of fellows, and their’s are gentlemen’s younger sons, and persons of good quality. And do you think that the mean spirits of such base and mean fellows will ever be able to encounter gentlemen that have honour, and courage, and resolution in them? You must get men of a spirit, and take it not ill what I say, of a spirit that is likely to go as far as gentlemen will go, or else I am sure you will be beaten still: I told him so. He was a wise and worthy person, and he did think that I talked a good notion, but an impracticable one. I told him I could do somewhat in it; and I accordingly raised such men as had the fear of God before them, and made some conscience of what they did. And from that day forward they were never beaten; but, whenever they were engaged against the enemy, they beat continually.” It is probable that to this choice of his recruits, Cromwell owed much of his military success and his political fortune. Being desirous of proving their courage, he chose from among their number a few that he could put confidence in, and ordered them to lie in ambush on his route; then, at a preconcerted signal, they rushed from their hiding place as if to charge the rest of the troop, upon which the poltroons of the company fled, and, finding their mistake too late, were glad to sneak home and leave their saddles to be filled by better men. After this trial the ‘Ironsides’ of Cromwell never shrunk from the enemy, and gradually the whole army was formed on the same model.

One of Cromwell’s first military services was the securing the town and county of Cambridge to the Parliamentary interest. He treated the University, several colleges of which had transmitted plate and money for the king’s use, with severity, arresting some of its principal members. Then passing through the county he disarmed the cavalier gentlemen, taking care not to provoke enmity by personal violence. An anecdote may here be mentioned illustrative of Cromwell’s peculiar character. While on this expedition, in the Isle of Ely, he visited his uncle Sir Oliver, who was a staunch royalist. Having surrounded the house with his troop he entered, hat in hand, nor could he be prevailed on either to cover his head or to sit down in his uncle’s presence; but having begged his blessing, and besought him to set what he did to the account of strict performance of his duty, he departed, carrying with him the various weapons that the house contained, as well as all the plate and valuables.

From this time, as the cause of the commonwealth prospered, Cromwell rose rapidly in the army, soon becoming the real head of it, though nominally the second in command. When the House of Commons entered into the agreement called the self-denying ordinance, for the separation of civil and military offices, Cromwell, along with some few others, still contrived to keep both his seat in the House and his command in the army. It seems to have been a resolution of his never to give up an authority once obtained.

The first battle in which he distinguished himself particularly was that of Marston Moor, fought July 2, 1644. The parliamentary forces were driven back on one side, and even their centre wavered under the furious attack of the cavaliers; but Oliver completely changed the fortune of the day by charging, at a critical period of the battle, with his sword-arm in a sling, and “driving the enemy from before him like chaff before the whirlwind.” Throughout the war he fought no battle in which he was beaten. But while he was thus earnest in forwarding the cause in which he was engaged in the field, he did not forget to fight his private battles with fearful and envious enemies, who were alarmed at his growing power. A plot between the Lord General Essex, the Scots Commissioners, and others, was laid against him, which would have proved the ruin of most men, but by his management and decision was crushed before it had fully ripened. He was an Independent, and as such took the covenant between the Scotch and English with great reluctance. “He was a free soul in matters of faith and worship, and was desirous, before all things, that men should be allowed to serve God in their own fashion, and not be bound down to generally-established forms.”

After the loss of the decisive battle of Naseby, fought June 14, 1645, the king was glad to trust himself to any party that might be willing to receive him, rather than throw himself into the hands of the two Houses. Accordingly, he sought refuge in the Scottish camp at Newark, and the Scotch rewarded his confidence by selling him to the Parliament. The Presbyterians, who formed the majority of that assembly, hoped that they could now dispense with the army, of which they began to be afraid. This caused great discontent. A system of agitation was instituted, at which Cromwell connived; and the troops became rebellious to their employers, though they remained faithful to their leaders who seemed to have no concern in the matter. Skippon, Cromwell, Ireton, and Fleetwood were sent down by the Parliament to conciliate them, in which they were partially successful. Nevertheless the army marched towards London for the purpose of intimidating the Houses into a concession to their wishes. After this matter was concluded, the Parliament (of which at that time the majority was Presbyterian) thought fit to invite the king to Richmond, and, having agreed to their proposal, he was shortly after removed to Hampton Court, where he was kept in an honourable captivity. Being now in the power of the army, he entered into treaties both with it and with the Parliament concerning his restoration, contriving, at the same time, to play both parties false. From this period the ambition of Oliver Cromwell to govern the state without a rival or master may be safely dated. He knew and felt that he was, in power and capacity, the first man in his country. He had risen to that height by his own individual exertions; and, perhaps perceiving that the communications of Charles with the Long Parliament might be brought to an amicable close destructive of his own power, he determined on the bold strokes which followed. He accordingly contrived to entrap the king into a flight from Hampton Court to the Isle of Wight, where he was placed under the care of Hammond, Governor of Carisbrook Castle. While at this place Charles kept up his correspondence with the Parliamentary and Scottish Commissioners, and also with those of the army. He moreover intrigued with the Irish party and with foreign courts for assistance. He planned an unsuccessful escape from his prison; and, to fill up the measure of distrust of him on the part of Cromwell, it was asserted that his intercepted letters to the queen hinted, in no obscure terms, at the expediency of removing the general by the method of private assassination. It became clear that there could be no hope of a cordial reconcilement or cooperation between them; and Cromwell from this time became the king’s most vigorous enemy, and spared no pains to bring him to the scaffold. The rest is well known. The king was brought to London, and refusing to plead his cause, or acknowledge the authority of his judges, was condemned and executed, January 30, 1649. Upon this the House of Commons declared the House of Peers to be useless, and that monarchy in England was at an end.

Soon after this another and a more dangerous mutiny broke out in the army, which was speedily quelled by the decision of Cromwell and the authority of Fairfax. The former was then appointed to serve in Ireland against Ormond and his supporters, who were in arms for the young king. As his presence was almost necessary in England, he resolved to perform this duty with vigour. At that time the Commonwealth had to bear the brunt of insurrections at home, the impending likelihood of a Scotch war, and the cabals of its own members. The case was urgent, and his measures were stern, arbitrary, and severe. Wanton cruelty does not appear to have been a part of Cromwell’s character; yet neither does the plea of a bold and unscrupulous policy excuse the wholesale slaughters perpetrated in that unhappy island. At the reductions of Drogheda, Wexford, Kilkenny, and Clonmel, both the avowed defenders and the citizens were slaughtered without quarter. Cromwell says, in his dispatch after the first of these sieges, “that the enemy was filled with much terror at this issue, and that he was persuaded that the bitterness used on this occasion would prevent much effusion of blood.” He added to his severities this kindness:—a proclamation was issued, “that no soldier should on pain of death take any thing from the inhabitants of conquered Ireland without paying for it, and that all should have the peaceable exercise of their religion.” In ten months’ time Cromwell was again in his seat in Parliament, having brought that country into complete subjection: a subjection bought with much blood and suffering, yet alleged by him to be better than a harassing and long-continued warfare. Lord Broghil, whom he had won over by his judicious kindness from the royalist party, was of great service to him in this campaign. He was a man of sound and temperate character, and seems to have been one of Oliver’s most faithful friends.

On his return to England he found that much remained to be done. Fairfax, as Commander-in-Chief, and Cromwell were almost immediately ordered into Scotland to stop the progress of the young Charles Stuart in that country. The Lord-General being unwilling to fight against his friends the Presbyterians, resigned his command, and Cromwell was immediately appointed Commander-in-Chief of all the English army. He prepared for service with the utmost dispatch, and marched directly to Edinburgh. Thence he fell back upon Musselburgh, the Scotch Presbyterian army being close at hand. Both parties attempted to reduce the other to extremity by want of provisions, and Cromwell made a retreat on Dunbar for the purpose of supplying his troops from the sea. His army consisted of ten thousand men; the Scotch of more than twice that number. For some time the Parliamentary army continued in a state of blockade, but by skilful manoeuvring Cromwell at last induced the enemy to come down into the plain and risk the issue of a pitched battle. The moment that, looking through his glass, he saw them move, he said, “I profess they run: the Lord hath delivered them into our hands!” The Scotch were beaten with tremendous slaughter. This failure for a time seemed to have done Charles more good than harm: for it freed him from the heavy yoke of the Presbyterians, and his cause became more generally popular on that account. Another and a better army was soon collected on his behalf. Oliver allowed this second host to make a descent upon England; but following it, and harassing its rear, and gathering to himself fresh troops in his course, he finally came up with Charles at Worcester, and gained what he called, in his letter to the Parliament, “the crowning victory.” After this he returned to London, almost adored by the inhabitants of every place in his progress, and welcomed at the end of it by the sincere and earnest praises of his masters, fated soon to become his subjects.

The remainder of the Long Parliament, although sneered at and hated, were the flower of the patriots, whose energy had begun and continued the contest, and well they supported the character of able rulers to the end of their domination: but their time was come. Cromwell, finding himself in reality the most powerful man in his country, was desirous of putting the key-stone to the structure of his ambitious fortunes. Without notice of his intention, he closed up the avenues of the House of Commons, surrounded it with his soldiers, and, entering the House, upbraided the members severally with their ingratitude, besides launching at them other idle charges of a personal kind: then stamping with his foot, the signal for his soldiers who were in the lobby, “Let them come in,” he cried, and they entered. At his command they took away the mace, and forcibly removed the Speaker from his chair. Then, turning out the members, Cromwell shut up the doors, and declared the Parliament at an end. Having completed this extraordinary performance, he is said to have put the key into his pocket, and walked quietly away to his lodgings at Whitehall. After this he issued a commission for calling together a new Parliament, which proved equally unfavourable to his views of government, but finally resigned its powers into his hands.

On December 16, 1653, he was installed Protector of England, Scotland, and Ireland, not daring to accept the proffered title of “King,” as it was opposed to the feelings and opinions of his most powerful friends. The first act of his reign was to make peace on honourable and advantageous terms with the Dutch: soon after he broke off a treaty with Spain, and entered into an agreement with France. In these transactions he was blamed by some, but his genius was of a stamp not to be lightly judged. The Spanish war was conducted under the captainship of Admiral Blake, whose name will ever stand in the first rank of the prudent, the daring, and the free. Judgment in the choice of men was one of Cromwell’s most peculiar talents: witness the names of Milton, Hale, and Ludlow, of Ireton, Blake, Monk, and Henry Cromwell; with a crowd of lesser men, all exactly suited to the stations in which he placed them. He concluded peace with Denmark and Sweden, dictated advantageous terms of reconciliation and alliance to Portugal, and caused the name and flag of England to be respected throughout Europe during his Protectorate. His court was grave and orderly; and as it is plain, from several passages of history, that he would willingly with the power have assumed the name and ensigns of a king, so in his mode of life he adopted something not far short of kingly state. After having tried to govern England by the unpopular Major-Generals of Districts, and by the constitutional method of Parliaments, his only obstacle to success seeming to be the want of the name and hereditary strength of royalty; after having passed through many private dangers and public difficulties, Cromwell called a third and last Parliament, and instituted a House of Peers; but before they ever met in Parliament, the Protector was seized with a quartan ague, which, after a few weeks’ illness, brought him to the grave at the age of fifty-nine years.

His reign was momentous, short, and arbitrary; yet less severe than would be supposed in the circumstances in which he placed himself. His severity was chiefly directed against the cavalier party, who never ceased to plot against his person and his power. But his vengeance, though strict, was not bloody, his punishments seldom exceeding confiscation, fine, or imprisonment. There are some instances of his packing juries, and some of his diverting the ordinary course of justice by other means. His parliaments were elected unconstitutionally; it could hardly be otherwise, when the power that brought them together was usurped and absolute. But his main object seems to have been the general happiness, virtue, and honour of his people. Few of England’s hereditary kings had governed so well or so mildly; scarcely any so bloodlessly. His prayer on his death-bed was as follows:—“Lord! I am a poor, foolish creature; this people would fain have me live; they think that it will be best for them, and that it will redound much to thy glory. All the stir is about this. Others would fain have me die. Lord, pardon them, and pardon thy foolish people; forgive their sins, and do not forsake them; but love, and bless, and bring them to a consistency, and give them rest; and give me rest, for Jesus Christ’s sake; to whom, with thyself and the Holy Spirit, be all honour and glory.” He died Sept. 3, 1658, on the anniversary of his victories at Dunbar and Worcester. Some hours before his death he declared his eldest son Richard to be his successor in the Protectorate. He was buried with the pomp that became his high place, and his remains were interred amidst those of England’s kings. The empty spite of the minions of the Restoration was wreaked on his dead body, which was disinterred, hanged at Tyburn, and burnt. This was the only revenge that the courtly followers of Charles could take on the man, the terror of whose name still made them tremble.

Cromwell’s natural character was kindly and benevolent, in proof of which may be adduced the ardent love felt for him by his family, his personal friends, and his soldiers. His humanity was displayed in his toleration of religious differences of opinion, and in his earnest interference against the persecutions of the Vaudois. Those of his letters which remain, though often on subjects where a contrary feeling might have been shown, contain nothing contradictory, and much that is favourable to this opinion. His humour was wont to show itself in a rude and boisterous manner. He laughed, and joked, and even romped with his friends and officers. This, perhaps, was not done without motive; for the discovery of character was one of Cromwell’s main objects, and in the unrestrainedness of this kind of mirth the minds of many men were laid open to his view. His return from such scenes to his wonted manly and quiet dignity, destroyed the undue familiarity which might have been their consequence.

Cromwell has been called by some an enthusiast; by others, a hypocrite. Tillotson says of him, that he seems to have deceived others so long that he at last deceived himself. It would, perhaps, be more just to say, that he long deceived himself, and when that ceased, he began to deceive others. That he had a strong sense of religion there can be no doubt, inasmuch as that at one time of his life he had determined to give up his native country for the free exercise of his faith. On his death-bed he declared, that he had assuredly at one time been in a state of grace. His judgment was sound, and his mind powerful; and it is not men of this character who commonly prove self-deceivers. That he deceived others there is no doubt; but that deception was rather political than moral. He was very diligent to inspect the minds of his friends and followers, and in doing so, frequently kept his opinions and feelings in the background, the better to effect his purpose: that this can be called hypocrisy may be well doubted. He left his kingdom in a flourishing condition; respected abroad, in a good state at home, and notwithstanding the few grants of money given to him, inconsiderably in debt.

Cromwell was possessed of a robust body, and of a manly but stern and unprepossessing aspect. The picture from which our portrait is engraved was presented by him to Nathaniel Rich, then serving under him as Colonel of a regiment of horse in the Parliamentary army. It was bequeathed to the British Museum by the great-grandson of that gentleman, Lieut.-General Sir Robert Rich. The books in which the history of this period may be studied are too well known to require minute enumeration. Milton, Harris, Godwin, are favourable to Cromwell: most other writers of note have gone against him. The character given of him by Cowley is justly celebrated.