Thomas Macauley: from History of
England, Volume I
(London: D. Appleton and Co., 1880), pp. 90-95.
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 forins of one great apostasy. In politics they 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 honors, to a grave among the
Plantagenets. Hampden had fallen, as became him, while vainly endeavoring, 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 vigor 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 parliament.
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 valor of the warriors whom he had trained.
These events produced the self-denying 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 organize the whole army on the same principles on which he had
organized 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. When the struggle was over, the work of innovation and revenge was
pushed on with still greater ardor. 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 protection 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 honorable 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 laborers 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 exile, and some years in climates unfavorable to the health and vigor of the
European race. The army of the Long Parliament was raised for home service. The pay of the
private soldier was much above the wages earned by the great body of the people; and, if
he distinguished himself by intelligence and courage, he might hope to attain high
commands. The ranks were accordingly composed of persons superior in station and education
to the multitude. These persons, sober, moral, diligent, and accustomed to reflect, had
been induced to take up arms, not by the pressure of want, not by the love of novelty and
license, not by the arts of recruiting officers, but by religious and political zeal,
mingled with the desire of distinction and promotion. The boast of the soldiers, as we
find it recorded in their solemn resolutions, was, that they had not been forced into the
service, nor had enlisted chiefly for the sake of lucre; that they were no janizaries, but
free-born Englishmen, who had, of their own accord, put their lives in jeopardy for the
liberties and religion of England, and whose right and duty it was to watch over the
welfare of the nation which they had saved.
A force thus composed that, without injury to its efficiency, be indulged in some
liberties which, if allowed to any other troops, would have proved subversive of all
discipline. In general, soldiers who should form themselves into political clubs, elect
delegates. and pass resolutions on high questions of state, would soon break loose from
all control, would come to form an army, and would become the worst and most dangerous of
mobs. Nor would it be safe, in our time, to tolerate in any regiment religious meetings,
at which a corporal versed in Scripture should lead the devotions of his less gifted
colonel, and admonish a backsliding major. But such was the intelligence, the gravity, and
the self-command of the warriors whom Cromwell had trained, that in their camp a political
organization and a religious organization could exist without destroying military
organization. The same men, who, off-duty, were noted as demagogues and field-preachers,
were distinguished by steadiness, by the spirit of order, and by prompt obedience on
watch, on drill, and on the field of battle.
In war this strange force was irresistible. The stubborn courage characteristic of the
English people was, by the system of Cromwell, at once regulated and stimulated. Other
leaders have maintained order as strict. Other leaders have inspired their followers with
a zeal as ardent. But in his camp alone the most rigid discipline was found
in company with the fiercest enthusiasm. His troops moved to victory with the precision of
machines, while burning with the wildest fanaticism of crusaders. From the time when the
army was remodelled to the time when it was disbanded, it never found, either in the
British Islands, or on the Continent, an enemy who could stand its onset. In England,
Scotland, Ireland, Flanders, the Puritan warriors, often surrounded by difficulties,
sometimes contending against threefold odds, not only never failed to conquer, but never
failed to destroy and break in pieces whatever force was opposed to them. They at length
came to regard the day of battle as a day of certain triumph and march against the most
renowned battalions of Europe with disdainful confidence. Turenne was startled by the
shout of stern exultation with which his English allies advanced to the combat, and
expressed the delight of a true soldier when he learned that it was ever the fashion of
Cromwell's pikemen to rejoice greatly when they beheld the enemy; and the banished
Cavaliers felt an emotion of national pride, when they saw a brigade of their countrymen,
outnumbered by foes and abandoned by allies, dive before it in headlong rout the finest
infantry of Spain, and force a passage into a countersearp which had just been pronounced
impregnable by the ablest of the marshals of France.
But that which chiefly distinguished the army of Cromwell from other armies was
the austere morality and the fear of God which pervaded all ranks. It is acknowledged by
the most zealous royalists that, in that singular camp, no oath was heard, no drunkenness
or gambling was seen, and that, during the long dominion of the soldiery, the property of
the peaceable citizen and the honor of woman were held sacred. If outrages were committed,
they were outrages of a very different kind from those of which a victorious army is
generally guilty. No servant girl complained of the rough gallantry of the redcoats. Not
an ounce of plate was taken from the shops of the goldsmiths. But a Pelagian sermon, or a
window on which the Virgin and Child were painted, produced in the Puritan ranks an
excitement which it required the utmost exertions of the officers to quell. One of
Cromwell's chief difficulties was to restrain he pikemen and dragoons from invading by
main force the pulpits of ministers whose discourses, to use the language of that time,
were not savory; and too many of our cathedrals still bear the marks of the hatred with
which those stern spirits regarded every vestige of Popery.
