Who was Oliver Cromwell?

Oliver Cromwell. He was and continues to be a man who carries a lot of political baggage. That much is certain. However, what precisely this baggage constitutes is a much harder to discern. This is the oddest and most interesting thing about Cromwell. He is a towering figure in our national history – but most have different and mutually exclusive opinions as to why. What’s more, many claims made about him are extraordinary exaggerations – and do not constitute a cohesive narrative that reflects the reality of the man and his legacy. This blog post is an attempt to clear up a few things. It asks the question ‘Who actually was Oliver Cromwell? And why is he important?’

In order to do this, I will be breaking down Cromwell’s legacy into six chunks that I think best describe him. The first question is whether he was a political mastermind. Understanding how Cromwell made decisions is important as it informs practically everything else about the man. Cromwell made decisions in a frustratingly drawn-out way. He often payed lip-service stances that were contradictory while coming down decisively on neither side. I will argue, this is in fact precisely why so many aspects of his legacy have been so hard to understand – the way he made political decisions made it difficult for both contemporaries or later generations to know exactly what he stands for.

Secondly is his role in killing the King. Was he responsible for this massively significant act? Was it Charles or Cromwell, or is this a false dichotomy that describes a binary choice where it is more complicated.

The third is what was Cromwell’s relationship with puritanism? This involves asking the question of whether Cromwell was a straightforward ‘puritan’ and what this actually meant back in the mid-17th Century.

The fourth is his role in the Army – asking the question of how effective Cromwell was as a military commander, and whether he was responsible for victory in the Civil War.

The fifth is what did he achieve in the ‘Protectorate’? The attempt to have a constitutional settlement without a monarchy and with a codified constitution was and is unprecedented in British history – something that is worth unpicking.

The final thing to deal with is Cromwell’s relationship with Ireland. Cromwell has traditionally been interpreted as one of the Bogeymen of English rule – responsible for untold horrors and practical genocide as well as the decline of Catholics as politically influential figures in Ireland. I need to and will be careful here. This is a hugely contentious topic, one that has in the past been a sticking point for Irish nationalism – and I am not keen to accidentally offend someone by slipping up here. However, it has often been side-lined by British historians, especially before the 1990s. It is important to deal with it and recognise it has a place in any history of Cromwell.

Part 1 – Cromwell as a Political Mastermind

The Problem

Cromwell was politically savvy. I think more than anything, the way in which Cromwell operated politically is the foundational knowledge you need for a comprehensive understanding of the man. Generally, Cromwell would position himself between the two dominant political groupings – the radical army and the conservative gentry. He would commit to neither fully, yet stay sufficiently close to both to enable himself to be acceptable to either. A good example comes from the Cromwell’s reaction to the difficult position he faced after the execution of the King. Before I get into describing this, it is worth giving a little context. The King was executed in 1649. At this time, the King was accepted as the central element of English political order. It was practically inconceivable to have an English system of governance without the King. However, due to Charles I’s repeated refusal to act in a way that compromised the monarchy’s prerogatives, the radical military officers of the New Model Army and radicals in Parliament grew increasingly frustrated. Eventually, the radicals trialling and executing the King. This was a huge gamble. The attempt to rule without monarchy was therefore an experiment, one that the vast majority were not happy with, except a very radical few.

This may not have been a problem if Cromwell could have ruled through the military alone. However, he was limited in his capacity to do so. Although the Army was probably the most experienced, effective and well-disciplined in the whole of Europe, it was also one that had to be paid. The problem was, that, Cromwell and his army needed to either raise money to pay the army, or alternatively create consensus in favour of a Cromwell-led political order in order to remove the threat of rebellion, and therefore remove the need for such a large army. To do either, he needed to satisfy the conservative gentry – that very same conservative gentry that had been so viscerally opposed to the execution of the King in the first place.

In order to raise money, he needed the support of Parliament. Although the written constitution of the Protectorate – the Instrument of Government – allowed Cromwell to raise money for an army of 30,000, this was not in itself sufficient to legitimise him raising said money. Most tended to believe that in a just political order, taxation had to be agreed to by Parliament. The belief in this principle was so widespread that taxation seen as unjust throughout the political community was often not payed. In the late 1630s, when Charles I had tried to levy extra-parliamentary taxation in the form of ‘Ship Money’, many refused to pay. Avoiding this, and avoiding being tarred with the brush of ‘tyrant’ were both necessities to establish sustainable government.

One solution to this problem could be to align with the gentry. To do this, Cromwell could accept the gentry’s relatively conservative demands. He could, for example, take on the Crown – this would bind him to several existing constitutional rules and conventions, like not being able to raise taxation without parliamentary consent. Other demands from the conservative gentry would include a conservative religious order – most probably a system of religious order that was relatively radically protestant, but also incredibly intolerant. This may seem counter-intuitive, that a relatively conservative demand was for a radically protestant political order – and it sort of is. However, the emphasis should be placed on tolerance here. There generally was some sort of consensus throughout the winning party of the civil war that there should be a radically protestant political order – one that placed an emphasis on the doctrine of ‘predestination’ of an god-chosen ‘elect’, and disowned ‘Popish’ ritual. However, the most radical thought this should be taken to an extreme. For those in the Army, the most radical of all, there should be no external limits placed on individuals’ consciences. To do so would be to place a barrier between man and God, reducing the purity of this intensely personal connection. This hints at why it was not as simple as just accepting the demands of the conservatives. If Cromwell aligned with the gentry, there would be problems with the Army. The Army was radical, and – as armies with opinions often are - also keen on coup d’états. To adopt a conservative policy and implement some of these things, would probably result in some backlash from the Army – either in terms of political pressure, or some form of direct action.

So, there we have it, a problem at the heart of the Cromwellian regime that had no obvious solution. There were two rival positions, mutually opposed to each other. What’s more, the need for money would only get more pressing with time – the Cromwellian regime could initially rely on the fact it could confiscate the land of leading royalists and take out debt. This meant, that as time went on, it would become increasingly necessary to forge some compromise. How Cromwell managed this is politically genius, showing his immense grasp of the subtle game of politics.

The Art of Dithering

The reaction to this conundrum – how to get support for his rule without alienating the army – was to essentially create a reputation and image that transcended this divide. Cromwell realised that he could fudge the seemingly ungulfable division between the conservatives and radicals. The first way Cromwell manages this is the way he made decisions. Cromwell - generally - would always make sure to delay his decision-making, ensuring he never took a decision before it was absolutely necessary. This allowed him to seem as if every decision was a hard one, and that he didn’t fundamentally disagree with his opponents. Often this also allowed him a far greater deal of political flexibility. Not making his mind up on big issues allowed him to move between two different positions. For example, he maintained lines of negotiation to Charles I up until January 1649, the month of his execution. This would allow him to quickly manoeuvre if something rapidly changed. In this case, nothing did change, but in such uncertain and strange political circumstances, it is easy to see why keeping this line open was a good idea.

This political strategy of waiting until the last moment to commit was partly Machiavellian, partly sincere. Cromwell often pondered over decisions over and over, with the advice and guidance of God in private prayer – which did take time. However, he also did undertake political actions which clearly showed that he did often use this tactic in order to maximise his personal power. For example, when Parliament was purged in 1648 – deeply controversial at the time – Cromwell conveniently was in the north. He therefore could plausibly claim he had nothing to do with the purge, and never made his mind up on it. This is despite the fact that Cromwell almost certainly would have known about the purge and also did not need to be in the North at the time. Cromwell, therefore was adept at the art of seeming reasonable and amenable to both sides.

Avoiding Alienation

The second way Cromwell made himself acceptable to both sides was to adopt political solutions that neither dismissed nor fully accepted claims of either side. Let’s have an example. In 1657, Cromwell was under pressure to accept the ‘Humble Petition and Advice’. This document, Parliament asserted, had to be either fully accepted or rejected in its entirety. It was important for Cromwell that the Petition be accepted – this was the first time Parliament had formally accepted Cromwell’s proposed solution to Cromwell-led Government in the codified Instrument of Government. However, there was a problem. This was that it contained something deeply personally and politically troubling. The Petition asked Cromwell to accept the ‘Crown’. This was an attempt to make the Cromwellian regime unambiguously claim its legitimacy from being a de facto monarchy. Cromwell dithered and dithered. He recognised that doing this would not sit well with the army. Eventually, he created a fudge. He would accept the powers attributed to him by the Petition, but not the title of Kingship. Cromwell made sure to placate Parliament – he accepted many of the demands that Parliament asked of him. Specifically, a far greater emphasis was placed on Cromwell’s person. Cromwell was given greater power and a more conservative quasi-monarchical framework was established. To give some examples, he had an ornate second coronation, was allowed to hold onto the office of Lord Protector for life and able to choose his successor. In many respects, his powers matched – and potentially exceeded – those of a King.

The third way Cromwell successfully bridged the divide between the conservatives and radicals was through personal connections to important figures. This was especially true of the Army. Cromwell cultivated good relationships with important Army officers. For example, as the historian Barry Coward points out, at a critical moment in 1658, at a time when many Army officers were politically concerned with Oliver Cromwell’s conservatism, Oliver Cromwell shored up his relationship with Army officers. Oliver Cromwell hosted a banquet for 200 Officers, allowing him to play up his personal connections with them. Cromwell similarly built bridges with more conservative parliamentarians. Several of Cromwell’s close circle – most notably Lord Broghill and John Thurloe – were in controlling positions within the conservative gentry faction. In fact, Lord Broghill was often loosely responsible for conservative parliamentary manouvres. The explains why, when the conservative faction seemingly failed in its objective of achieving a Cromwellian monarchy, the vast majority of conservatives continued working closely with Cromwell. Cromwell successfully managed to allow his close connections with specific individuals to help him fudge through difficult political winds. Most tellingly in the specific case of the Crown, the Second Protectoral Parliament gave Cromwell exactly what he wanted – funds and recognition. In this way, Cromwell negotiated tricky waters with the help of deft political tactics and the art of occupying practically opposed political viewpoints.

External Threats

The final, less subtle, but still foundational way in which Cromwell was politically skilled in dealing with the essential tension of 17th Century politics was by playing up common, often external, threats. The use of a common threat was a common and repeated political strategy – and one that he did not just reserve for the threat of foreign intervention. In fact, the primary common external threat he used was Cromwell’s concern for avoiding any repeat of the Civil War. If you have read any of Cromwell’s speeches, this is apparent. Cromwell has an almost nervous tick – mentioning the importance of ‘healing and settling’ over and over. For the 21st Century reader, who often takes the peace and stability that any state provides us, this may seem like an odd thing to constantly emphasise. However, for the 17th Century English reader it makes perfect sense. The absence of the state in civil war created the bloodiest period of English history – one that was and is still unprecedented on the British Isles. It needs to be emphasised that it was truly horrific. The need to avoid a repeat was the utmost priority – and so challenging the ruler in any way was in many respects seen as undesirable. It is in this context that we see Thomas Hobbes’ masterpiece Leviathan – which argues much the same thing. By playing up external threats in day-to-day conversations, Cromwell was able to seem reasonable and amenable to everyone. The way he presented himself on political and religious issues required him to make limited new or controversial claims that he had to convince others on.

Similarly, this tactic was also used in relation to Catholicism – increasingly used as a defining feature of an emerging British and English identity. Drawing on the example and legacy of Elizabeth I, who Cromwell was remarkably similar to as a politician, Cromwell constantly played up the threat of Catholic powers and royalists. This was useful in 1655-7, in justifying the ‘rule of the Major Generals’ – where the external threat of Catholic powers and internal threat of a royalist rising was used as justification for allowing several ‘Major-Generals’ to divide up and control local administration and justice.

Conclusion

I think that it is very hard to argue that Cromwell did not succeed in the face of very difficult circumstances. I have just focused here on how he was able to retain political control – but what is even more impressive that this, is that he was simultaneously implement a clear political agenda onto the country as a whole. Cromwell was not only able to maintain control in difficult circumstances – he also did things that he wanted. This is certainly the practical role of the politician – to provide enough political room for you to implement your will. This was something that Cromwell was more than competent at. As I will show in a future blog posts, Cromwell did a lot. Among other things, he was able to implement a radically novel and controversial religious policy with very minimal open opposition.

Perhaps the greatest piece of evidence for the strength and nature of Cromwell’s political skill comes after his death. The Cromwellian Protectorate survived for a few months after Cromwell’s death relatively smoothly. Under the leadership of Cromwell’s son, Richard, however, the Cromwellian protectorate could not pull off the delicate balance that his father had. He was far more conservative than his Father had been, and the Army grew increasingly disaffected with him. By April, the Army had effectively got the upper hand, and forced Richard to dismiss the newly called Third Protectoral Parliament, and soon after Richard resigned. The ease with which Oliver Cromwell’s political legacy disintegrated is perhaps the greatest evidence for how effectively he managed the political landscape from 1649 to 1658. Before 1658, it would have been very hard for Cromwell to have been overthrown by the Army. Cromwell made sure to make it counter-productive for the army to oust him and - as a safeguard - was close friends with many of the officers.

Cromwell, then is a good politician. He made mistakes – of course he did – but as all good politicians do, he ensured that his system of rule gave him the capacity for him to make these mistakes.

I think most interestingly, the way in which he made decisions made him so hard to understand as a figure in his own time, but also to later generations. Cromwell acted and spoke in a way that made it hard to conclusively prove much about him. Cromwell used his political skill to distance himself from two distinct political camps in order to remain amenable to both. Doing this had knock-on effects on perceptions of him at a later date. Popular ideas about his legacy became more confused, but also more eclectic. He could reasonably be conceived as so many things, in part, because he never denied he didn’t stand for anything. The way in which he spoke and acted also allowed him to become a magnet for claims he had hidden motives – sparking some of the more critical interpretations of Cromwell. For example, the idea he acted as a self-interested dictator who betrayed the ‘Good Old Cause’ - or alternatively beheaded Charles to take his place - in part comes from the fact he acted and spoke in a way that often hid his political preferences.

I hope I have done a bit to tell you exactly who Oliver Cromwell was, and why I think he was a political genius,

Yours,

WFF*

*A quick note on the Bibliography. I have read a lot for this series on Oliver Cromwell. I will therefore set out the Bibliography in the last of the six blog posts.