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Christopher
Durston has produced here the sort of history which my generation
of school students was brought up to regard as the norm, taking
a celebrated episode of political and constitutional history and
setting out to re-evaluate it by reading a broader and deeper collection
of sources for it than ever before, in both local and national archives.
This is the form of historiography which has been applied to past
politics most commonly ever since the discipline of history became
professionalised. It is one which acquired a new cutting edge in
the 1970s when it became the mainstay of the revisionist movement
in early modern historical studies. It is a straightforwardly empirical
technique based on the twin assumptions that if you read more about
something than anybody else has done, then you will know more about
it than anybody else, and that if you read enough, then you are
likely to solve the traditional puzzles which have hung over your
subject of enquiry. Its application by a colleague as patient, reasonable
and equable as Dr Durston provides a particularly good test of its
worth at a time when methodologies of writing history are under
close scrutiny. In the opinion of this reviewer, it vindicates the
first assumption, for this is certainly the best book yet written
on its subject, while throwing up a few doubts about the second.
It was a classically good subject to have chosen,
being at once celebrated and neglected. Many historians have provided
opinions upon it, from the seventeenth to the late twentieth century,
and yet it has not hitherto been given any sustained treatment in
its own right, based on extensive research. The opinions concerned
fall into two contrasting, while possibly compatible, groups. One
has emphasised the spectacular and unique nature of the experiment
of Cromwell's government in dividing England and Wales into regional
commands supervised by Major-Generals supported by county committees
and militias. In keeping with the dual character of the Cromwellian
Protectorate as a government resting upon the victories of an army
of (potential) saints, they were expected both to ensure military
security and to impose a deeper level of godly reformation upon
the English and Welsh. This school of thought, which has included
most leading historians of the period between the late seventeenth
and the mid-twentieth century, has differed only over the merits
of the experiment. Some (from Echard, Hallam and Ranke, down to
David Underdown and Robert Ashton) have emphasised the arbitrary,
despotic and unpopular nature of the Major-Generals' rule, while
others (from Carlyle to Christopher Hill) have been more inclined
to credit them with good intentions and personal virtues. The other
school has been comprised mostly of late-twentieth-century scholars,
and has placed more stress upon the brief and ineffectual nature
of their administration.
What Christopher Durston does is to prove that
both traditions are correct, for the Major-Generals were at once
important, unpopular and ineffectual. He carries out the vital work
of establishing who they were and what they did, so well that the
job will not need to be done again. They turn out to be in personal
terms impressive enough to justify the praise granted to them by
some previous writers: a set of relatively young, energetic and
dedicated men, all with distinguished records as soldiers, almost
all with personal connections to the territories which they administered,
and almost all deeply committed to some form of radical Protestantism:
classic godly governors. Only a sixth of them came from the traditional
magisterial elite. The accepted picture is also reinforced in Dr
Durston's analysis of the county committees on whose work they depended,
the 'commissioners for securing the peace of the Commonwealth'.
Some recent work has tended to emphasise the presence among them
of members of pre-Civil War ruling families, and of individuals
with relatively moderate religious views, but a closer look reveals
that these were precisely the people who were most reluctant or
unwilling to do the actual work. When those who undertook the job
enthusiastically are identified, they turn out to be exactly what
traditional historiography has made them: 'small cadres of godly
zealots of generally lower social status'. There can no longer be
any doubt that the rule of the Major-Generals represented the point
at which the political and religious radicals who were most clearly
identified with the English Revolution of 1648-49 were given their
starkest and most complete measure of control of the localities.
This is the more significant in that everything points to the fact
that until its sudden downfall in the Parliament of 1656-7, the
system was expected to remain a permanent feature of the Protectoral
government.
The other side of the equation is therefore the
more significant: that the same system actually accomplished so
little. Dr Durston proves that the only work in which the Major-Generals
showed any success consisted of closing alehouses and cowing royalists.
Even in these their achievement was severely limited. The alehouses
returned in their old numbers as soon as the campaign against them
wound down. It was true that royalist conspiracy was effectively
wiped out, as the supporters of the exiled king were submitted to
punitive taxation and the submission of large bonds for good behaviour,
while the collection and monitoring of political intelligence reached
a peak of efficiency not otherwise known in early modern England.
In this sense, the Major-Generals gave the regime complete physical
security. It is also true, however, that the royalists were already
exhausted after the complete failure of a rebellion which they had
launched in early 1655, and which had itself done much to provoke
the new system of surveillance. There is no way of demonstrating
that they would have taken a shorter time to resume plotting had
the latter never been imposed.
None of the remaining objectives of the proposed
godly reforms came anything near even this partial success. They
were supposed to include a more efficient relief of the poor. In
practice this meant that a lot of vagrants were arrested, and then
released when the county authorities could no longer afford to hold
them. About 2% of the national clergy were replaced with allegedly
more efficient or politically reliable men, a tiny proportion of
the total number of ejections during the period of the civil wars
and republic. The impact on the prosecution of profanity, sexual
offences, traditional sports and pastimes and prohibited activities
on Sunday was at best marginal. Without the whole-hearted co-operation
of both the public and local office-holders at all levels, things
could hardly be otherwise, and such co-operation was evidently lacking.
Dr Durston concludes that the expected reformation of society was
'a clear failure'. It is just as significant, as he points out,
that both the generals themselves and the government to whom they
reported believed that they had achieved great successes.
This capacity for self-delusion was very clearly
one feature of the Cromwellian regime, exemplified in the conviction
of the Major-Generals that they would be capable of controlling
fresh parliamentary elections in such a way as to produce a national
assembly which would support their work and that of the government
behind them. Instead, even after a quarter of it had been purged,
the Parliament concerned destroyed them and did its best to remodel
the constitution to put the lid on godly reformation and republicanism
together. Another ingrained aspect of the regime which is exposed
by Christopher Durston's research is its curious combination of
executive efficiency and strategic bungling. There can be no doubt
that, for an early modern state, the Cromwellian Protectorate could
construct and operate administrations with an almost breathtaking
skill. In this case, the regional commands were staffed, the militias
raised, and the royalists taxed and bound over, with remarkable
speed and effectiveness. It was the planning behind the whole enterprise
which was fatally flawed: as in virtually all else that it did,
the government could not get its sums right, could not supply the
support that the new apparatus required, and could not reconcile
its commitment to a radical Protestant godliness with its yearning
for acceptance by, if not popularity with, the bulk of the nation.
As Dr Durston demonstrates, a large part of the
reason for the establishment of the network of Major-Generals was
that the regime could no longer pay for its own defence. The number
of regular soldiers needed to maintain its security was too large
for the existing level of taxation to support, even though that
level was still too high for most taxpayers. Any chance of getting
more money through unequivocally constitutional channels was blocked
by the government's hitherto complete failure to work with a Parliament.
In this situation, the idea of replacing some of the regular army
with local militias of zealous supporters, paid from a tax on royalists
which spared the rest of the population, seemed like a practicable
and morally sound way out of the problem. The trouble was that the
Protector and his Council got both parts of the equation wrong.
They did not reduce the army as needed - indeed, at the end of the
experiment it was bigger than before - and it turned out that the
tax on royalists could never raise enough to pay for the new militia
force. As a result, the government ended up with a bloated military
establishment and even less adequate funding, and its financial
crisis was considerably worsened. In the eyes of the present reviewer,
this fits a pattern whereby Cromwell's regime lurched from one desperate
expedient to another, like a failing gambler staking larger and
larger sums upon a lucky throw; the installation of the Major-Generals
makes a precise domestic parallel to the launching of an unprovoked
attack on the Spanish colonial empire in the hare-brained belief
that this war would pay for its own costs. In his own way, the Lord
Protector was as reckless an adventurer as Charles I, Charles II
or James II.
Even so, with all its inherent failures, the
system would probably have lasted longer had not the Major-Generals
themselves, unwittingly, done all that was necessary to ruin it.
Dr Durston shows, better than ever before, how they provided a context
for their own abolition by persuading the government to call a Parliament
which turned out to be largely unsympathetic to them. Even so, the
MPs ignored their existence until one of the most important politicians
among them, closely connected in family and counsels to the Protector,
called attention to it in the most crass possible manner. This was
John Desborough, whose action in trying to bounce Parliament into
recognising the tax on royalists precipitated the rejection of that
tax, and thus the breaking of the whole system. The action concerned
was hardly necessary and may have been taken on Desborough's own
blundering initiative, but it would not have proved disastrous had
it not been for two other features of this regime. One was the existence
of a body of civilian advisors and courtiers, personally favoured
by the Protector and often brought in by him, who were opposed to
the army and to the godly in both instinct and experience. It was
they, and not the backwoodsmen, who drove on the attack on the tax,
and they were able to succeed because of the second feature of the
Protectorate, its consistent failure to give the generals the support
for which they asked. Dr Durston reveals how repeatedly their administrative
measures faltered because the central authorities displayed no interest
in providing the matching actions which were needed for completion;
for example, to allocate shipping to transport imprisoned vagrants
to the colonies. In the same fashion, the utter lack of any official
attempt to defend the Major-Generals within Parliament gave free
rein to their enemies and sealed their fate. Rarely, if ever before,
have the peculiar strengths and weaknesses of this regime been so
starkly exposed.
All this adds up to a considerable achievement
on the part of this book, and if doubts linger over some of its
suggestions, as stated above, then they are inherent in the nature
of the material. Like most political and administrative historians,
Christopher Durston has a much more straightforward job in determining
the what and the how than the why. One of the biggest factors in
the failure of the Major-Generals consists of their lack of popularity,
manifested in their own reports concerning their reception and their
decisive rejection by the electorate, despite all their efforts
to pack a Parliament. Dr Durston considers two traditional explanations,
that they were hated either as soldiers or as agents of a legally
dubious governmental centralisation, and while admitting some force
to them rejects them in favour of a third. This is to emphasise
their status as the allies and patrons of local cadres of godly
Protestant fundamentalists; in common parlance radical puritans.
In this reading, it was the inherent anti-puritanism of the English
and Welsh, as powerful at times if less celebrated than their anti-Catholicism,
which made the generals most obnoxious to them. There is nothing
that can be faulted in such a suggestion; but nor is it actually
demonstrated, and it probably cannot be. The great problem in evaluating
public responses to the Major-Generals is that the latter possessed
so many qualities likely to give widespread offence, consisting
of all those mentioned above, that together they made up a package
of irredeemable unacceptability. The recorded expressions of local
opinion are too few and too general to make possible any convincing
analysis of the component parts of that assemblage. The historian
in this situation is not a chemist capable of making a forensic
study, but a cook attempting to unscramble eggs.
The same sort of difficulty is encountered in
attempting to uncover the role played in all these events by Oliver
Cromwell himself. The portrayal of the Protector made in this book
is possibly the most negative published by any academic historian
during the last fifty years, and the more striking in that Christopher
Durston himself goes out of his way to extenuate rather than criticise
Cromwell. The latter's admirers, who have included most historians
of the period during the twentieth century, have always been rather
embarrassed by his apparent role in the fall of the Major-Generals.
A good case has been made that, having realised how little support
they had achieved in even a purged Parliament, the Protector decided
to collude with the attack on their system in order to ingratiate
himself with the MPs and obtain the financial and constitutional
support which he needed. Dr Durston argues instead that he remained
aloof and perplexed throughout the whole debate, exhibiting throughout
what is called here his 'characteristic dithering and evasiveness'
in political affairs.
Was the great Protector really so completely
bemused? At the opening of the attack on Desborough's bill, a speech
was made against it by an obscure cousin of Cromwell. The latter
immediately received him warmly and presented him with a rich cloak
and gloves, which he showed off in Parliament as a sign of his powerful
relative's favour. Dr Durston suggests that Cromwell simply did
not realise the likely effect of his action, a reading which credits
him with breathtaking naiveté. Had so ruthless and decisive
a soldier turned into such a helpless politician? It is possible,
but it may also be noted that one of Cromwell's main traits as a
commander had been his preference for oblique attacks, striking
an enemy in the rear or flank. It may well be that his approach
to politics was equally slippery, and that he was deliberately playing
off the Major-Generals against their critics in Parliament and standing
back to see who proved the stronger. After all, those critics were
led by people to whom Oliver himself had given favour as advisers
and servants, as part of his consistent policy of balancing groups
in his court and council in such a way that they had nothing in
common save loyalty to himself. As things stand, Dr Durston defends
him from the charge of being a fox by making him out to be a goose.
The bottom line of this affair is certainly that Cromwell made no
effort to support men who had been his loyal servants and had laboured
hard for ends which he was supposed ardently to endorse. Ultimately,
we cannot know why he did not, because we cannot make windows into
his mind, any more than we can into those of the general public
whom he ruled.
These issues can be raised so clearly because
Christopher Durston does his work so well. By writing a masterpiece
of old-fashioned political history, he shows what it can achieve,
and what it cannot. As in the case of predecessors in this tradition
such as Austin Woolrych, writing on neighbouring parts of the same
period, one has an impression that in places it is at last being
worked down to the bedrock.
December 2001
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