But presently Lesley, at whatsoever urging, moves to change ground, which movement gives Oliver his chance.  He attacks instead of awaiting attack; the Scots army is scattered, 3,000 killed and 10,000 prisoners taken.  Such is Dunbar Battle, or Dunbar Drove.  Edinburgh is ours, though the Castle holds out; surrenders only on December 19, on most honourable terms.  But what to do with Scotland, with its covenanted king, a solecism incarnate?

We have a most wifely letter to Cromwell from his wife, urging him to write oftener to herself and to important persons:  correspondence concerning Dunbar medal, and Chancellorship of Oxford University; and the lord general falls ill, with recoveries and relapses.

Active military movements, however, become imperative, so far as the general’s health permits.  In spring and early summer is some successful skirmishing; in July Cromwell’s army has, for the most part, got into Fife, thereby cutting off the supplies of the king’s army at Stirling, which suddenly marches straight for the heart of England, the way being open.  Cromwell, having just captured Perth, starts in pursuit, leaving George Monk to look after Scotland.

The Scots march by the Lancashire route, keeping good discipline, but failing to gather the Presbyterian allies or Royalist allies they had looked for.  On August 22, Charles erects his standard at Worcester—­ninth anniversary of the day Charles I. erected his at Nottingham.  On the anniversary of Dunbar fight his Scotch army is crushed, battling desperately at Worcester; cut to pieces, with six or seven thousand prisoners taken.  Cromwell calls it “for aught I know, a crowning mercy,” and fears lest “the fullness of these continued mercies may occasion pride and wantonness.”  Charles, however, escapes.  The general here sheaths his war-sword for good, and comes to town, to be greeted with acclamations.

Of the next nineteen months the history becomes very dim.  There are but five letters, none notable.  The Rump sits, conspicuous with red-tapery; does not get itself dissolved nor anything else done of consequence; leaves much that is of consequence not done.  Before twelve months the officers are petitioning the lord general that something be done for a new Representative House; to be, let us say, a sort of Convention of Notables.  At any rate, in April, 1653, the Rump propose to solve the problem by continuing themselves; till the lord general ejects them summarily in a manner that need not here be retold.  With this for consequence, that Cromwell himself, “with the advice of my Council of Officers,” nominates divers persons to form the new Parliament, which shall be hereafter known as “Bare-bones.”

In this Parliament, which included not a few notable men, Cromwell made the first speech extant, justifying his dismissal of the Rump, and the summoning of this assembly, chosen as being godly men that have principles.  A speech intelligible to the intelligent.  But this Parliament failed of its business, which is no less than introducing the Christian religion into real practice in the social affairs of this nation; and dissolved itself after five months.  Four days later the Instrument of Government is issued, naming Oliver Protector of the Commonwealth, Council of Fifteen, and other needful matters.