Tredah, that is Drogheda, is his first objective, with its garrison of 3,000 soldiers.  Drogheda is summoned to surrender on pain of storm; refuses, is stormed, no quarter being given to the armed garrison, mostly English.  “I believe this bitterness will save much effusion of blood through the goodness of God.”  The garrison of Dundalk, not liking the precedent, evacuated it; that of Trim likewise.  No resistance, in fact, was offered till Cromwell came before Wexford.  After suffering a cannonade, the commandant proposed to evacuate Wexford on terms which “manifested the impudency of the men.”  Oliver would only promise quarter to rank and file.  Before any answer came, the soldiery stormed the town, which Cromwell had not intended; but he looked upon the outcome as “an unexpected providence.”

The rule of sending a summons to surrender before attacking was always observed, and rarely disregarded.  “I meddle not with any man’s conscience; but if liberty of conscience means liberty to exercise the mass, that will not be allowed of.”  The Clonmacnoise Manifesto, inviting the Irish “not to be deceived with any show of clemency exercised upon them hitherto,” hardly supports the diatribes against Cromwell’s “massacring” propensities.  Also in Cromwell’s counter-declaration is a pregnant challenge.  “Give us an instance of one man since my coming to Ireland, not in arms, massacred, destroyed, or banished, concerning the massacre or destruction of whom justice hath not been done or endeavoured to be done.”

That the business at Drogheda and Wexford did prevent much effusion of blood is manifest from the surrenders which invariably followed almost immediately upon summons.  The last he reports is Kilkenny (March, 1650); his actual last fight is the storm of Clonmel; for, at the request of Parliament, he returns to England to attend to other matters of gravity, Munster and Leinster being now practically under control.

III.—­Crowning Mercies

Matters of gravity indeed; for Scotland, the prime mover in this business of Puritanism, has for leaders Argyles, Loudons, and others of the pedant species; no inspired Oliver.  So these poor Scotch governors have tried getting Charles II. to adopt the Covenant as best he can—­have “compelled him to sign it voluntarily.”  Scotland will either invade us or be invaded by us—­which we decide to be preferable.  Cromwell must go, since Fairfax will not resign his command in favour of Cromwell; who does go, with the hundred-and-tenth psalm in the head and heart of him.

So he marches by way of Berwick to Musselburgh, where he finds David Lesley entrenched in impregnable lines between him and Edinburgh.  He writes to the General Assembly of the Kirk in protest against a declaration of theirs.  “Is it, therefore, infallibly agreeable to the Word of God, all that you say?  I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible that you may be mistaken.”  But shrewd Lesley lies within his lines, will not be tempted out; provisions are failing, and the weather breaking.  We must fall back on Dunbar—­where Lesley promptly hems us in, occupying the high ground.