Nobody to-day, glancing his eye over a list of the knights and burgesses who made up Richard Cromwell’s first and last Parliament, would ever guess that it represented an order of things of the most recent date which was just about to disappear.  On paper it has a solid look.  The fine old crusted Parliamentary names with which the clerks were to remain so long familiar as the members trooped out to divide were more than well represented.[79:1] The Drakes of Amersham were there; Boscawens, Bullers, and Trelawneys flocked from Cornwall; Sir Wilfred Lawson sat for Cumberland, and his son for Cockermouth; a Knightly represented Northamptonshire, whilst Lucys from Charlecote looked after Warwick, both town and county.  Arthur Onslow came from Surrey, a Townshend from Norfolk, and, of course, a Bankes from Corfe Castle;[79:2] Oxford University, contented, as she occasionally is, to be represented by a great man, had chosen Sir Matthew Hale, whilst the no less useful and laborious Thurloe sat for the sister University.  Anthony Ashley Cooper was there, but in opposition, snuffing the morrow.  Mildmays, Lawleys, Binghams, Herberts, Pelhams, all travelled up to London with the Lord-Protector’s writs in their pockets.  A less revolutionary assembly never met, though there was a regicide or two among them.  But when the members found themselves alone together there was some loose talk.

On the 27th of January 1659 Marvell attended for the first time in his place, when the new Protector opened Parliament, and made a speech in the House of Lords, which was pronounced at the time to be “a very handsome oration.”

The first business of the Commons was to elect a Speaker, nor was their choice a very lucky one, for it first fell on Chaloner Chute, who speedily breaking down in health, the Recorder of London was appointed his substitute, but the Recorder being on his deathbed at the time, and Chute dying very shortly afterwards, Thomas Bampfield was elected Speaker, and continued so to be until the Parliament was dissolved by proclamation on the 22nd of April.  This proclamation was Richard Cromwell’s last act of State.

Marvell’s first Parliament was both short and inglorious.  One only of its resolutions is worth quoting:—­

   “That a very considerable navy be forthwith provided, and put to sea
   for the safety of the Commonwealth and the preservation of the trade
   and commerce thereof.”

It was, however, the army and not the navy that had to be reckoned with—­an army unpaid, angry, suspicious, and happily divided.  I must not trace the history of faction.  There is no less exalted page in English history since the days of Stephen.  Monk is its fitting hero, and Charles the Second its expensive saviour of society.  The story how the Restoration was engineered by General Monk, who, if vulgar, was adroit, both on land and sea, is best told from Monk’s point of view in the concluding chapter of Baker’s Chronicle (Sir Roger