Use of military to gain power

Use of social to gain power

Use of religion to gain power Use of economy to gain power Use of politics to gain power

Self-denying ordinance
For Cromwell not only sought military solutions on campaign. His musketeers 'helped' the MPs out of their seats when he dissolved the Rump in 1653. The bayonets of the New Model Army kept Cromwell in power thereafter while his Major-Generals came down like a ton of bricks on anyone who stepped out of line. This was military dictatorship, rule by fear. But was this the whole story? One of the most thought-provoking reasons for Cromwell's success was that he was widely and highly rated. The collapse of the Army's unity after Cromwell's death showed the respect in which he was held. Yet there were grounds for questioning his integrity. He claimed to be devoid of personal ambition, to fight the Lord's battle both in politics and war, to pursue the interests of God's people - but it was extraordinary how power kept on falling into his hands. How did he get away with it? In self-justification Cromwell claimed that he had a programme to fulfil. He had a paternalistic concern for the poor. Though he allowed himself to be talked out of law reform, he abolished the death penalty for petty theft. He was above all consistently loyal to three priorities: the maintenance of public order, a settlement based on consent and liberty of conscience for Protestants. Could any reasonable person quarrel with such admirable goals? They certainly could - and did. Cromwell's prejudices explain his political success far more than does his idealism. While his campaign for social justice and religious toleration did him no good at all, his contemporaries warmed to his brutality and oversimplified Protestantism. Similarly Cromwell's overblown nationalism impressed a political nation which had resented England's poor showing under the first two Stuarts. Cromwell was courted by Mazarin's France, his navy dominated the Atlantic, the Mediterranean and the Baltic, Spain was humiliated and robbed. Without doubt Cromwell's image was improved by the devastation of Ireland, including the storming of Drogheda and the slaughter of 3,000 people - by no means all of them combatants. Antonia Fraser argues that Cromwell 'saw red - the red of his comrades' blood...the slaughter itself stood quite outside his usual record of careful mercy as a soldier'. Historians are too kind. Both Cromwell's actions and his account of them reek of intolerance and bloodlust. Cromwell' s ability to read men's minds was part of his management skills. He had a gift for concealing his own thoughts and giving men the impression that he agreed with them. He listened patiently to criticism and dissent. He combined this flexibility with a vivid, magnetic personality, an infectious sense of fun which could descend to schoolboy levels when he flicked ink at Henry Martin while they signed Charles I's death-warrant. Cromwell had a capacity for friendship, though in the context of charm offensives his name might not come to mind. But the most important explanation of Cromwell's success is that he filled the bill. He was supported by the political nation because England was governed, order was kept, royalists were frustrated, taxes were raised, abuses were remedied, trade revived, England's prestige abroad rocketed. The nightmare of anarchy which had terrified the governing classes during the 1640s was scotched. Cromwell achieved success because of his faith in himself and in God. Providence - the will of God revealed in events - was his guiding star. Both as a general and as a politician, Cromwell had the conviction that God was on his side. He was inspired by the stirring and bloodthirsty deeds of Old Testament warlords but rarely quoted Jesus, who advocated forgiveness of one's enemies. So God punished 'the man of blood' Charles I and gave strength to his chosen servants, Cromwell for example. Cromwell undeniably was given strength to win not only military but political battles. While he quickly learnt his trade as a soldier, Peter Gaunt shows how Cromwell developed as a politician. The gauche backbencher of 1640 and the hesitant chairman of the Putney debates developed into a shrewd, flexible realist in the 1650s. While his was not a rational or a methodical mind, he had common sense and a flair for compromise. Cromwell could see to the heart of an issue, for he was a great simplifier. Sometimes he oversimplified, but there were

occasions when this capacity to see the wood for the trees was invaluable. 'I tell you we will cut off his head with the crown upon it'. Straight to the point! But he coupled this awareness of priorities with emotional commitment. He wept easily. Emotion and singleness of mind were a formidable partnership. Cromwell's most unusual asset was his lack of deference, his irreverence. Cromwell was exceptional here. Seventeenth-century England was king-worshipping, class-conscious and traditionalist. But Cromwell was different. Monarchy, Lords, Scots, Irish, the Church, the bishops, his aristocratic military superiors - all collapsed before him. In April 1653 Cromwell threw out the Rump, knocking down parliaments more frequently than any Stuart. After each demolition he emerged from the ruins flexing his muscles and looking for the next pillar of the establishment to destroy. His bte noir was the legal profession. 'I care not for Magna Farta!' he shouted at a protesting lawyer. Cromwell's admirers protest that it is wrong to see him as a mere constitutional yobbo. He mixed radicalism with charity. Ivan Roots admires Cromwell's patience with bores and crackpots. Peter Gaunt believes the Protector's reputation should rest on 'the decency of the man and his regime' and praises his modesty and pursuit of compromise and reconciliation. Cromwell certainly had breadth of vision and greatness of heart. He rose above his contemporaries in his campaign for liberty of conscience. He was consistently compassionate - except to Irish Catholics. Whether Cromwell regarded himself as a success is another matter. During the last years of his life, exhausted and depressed, he was preoccupied with his failures. He failed to achieve a constitutional settlement with Parliament. He failed to lead a victorious crusade against Spain. He failed to persuade the English to become a godly nation. He was disappointed by the Parliament of the Saints' refusal to march into the Promised Land like the Israelites of old. He could not overcome his countrymen's reluctance to be reformed, their affection for the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, their hankering after traditional festivities. Cromwell contemptuously dismissed the future Charles II: 'Just give him a joint of mutton and a whore, for he is so damnably debauched he will undo us all'. But Charles II was more in tune with his people's preferences, uniquely qualified as he was to restore phallic maypoles to village greens.