history anna keay
Young Ironsides The Making of Oliver Cromwell
By Ronald Hutton (Yale University Press 400pp £25)
Bloodhound of Huntingdonshire: Cromwell by Charles Lucy, 1868
A monumental statue of Oliver Crom- well stands outside the Houses of Parliament, the single figure silhouetted against Westminster Hall. This celebrated soldier and head of state, one of the ten ‘greatest Britons’ of the last millennium, according to a 2002 BBC poll, cuts a striking figure. He is not triumphant on horseback but stands bareheaded, his hat clutched deferentially under his arm, his eyes down, one hand holding a Bible, the other resting on his sword in a pose of humanity and humility. Mighty but modest, greatness mixed with grave deference, paternalism combined with penitence: this is the portrait of Oliver Cromwell that his own writings do so much to sketch out. It is the image that Ronald Hutton’s remarkable book, the first in what is destined to be a two-volume work, sets out to shatter.
There can be few people better placed to reassess Cromwell than Hutton, whose books include a magisterial biography of Charles II, a forensic account of the
Restoration and one of the most original works of scholarship on early modern times, The Rise and Fall of Merry England (1994). All are characterised by meticulous analysis of primary material and an instinctive, deft ability to assess and encapsulate character. Bringing his formidable skills to bear on Oliver Cromwell was bound to produce lively results, and this excellent book does not disappoint.
Cromwell’s popular reputation has waxed and waned like that of few others. In the 19th century, he was the founding father of religious toleration, the champion of liberty and the torchbearer for Nonconformity. In more recent times his fervour for God and war, captured shoutily by Richard Harris in the film Cromwell (1970), has had less appeal. Many have felt pangs of sympathy with the 1066 and All That characterisation of the opposing sides in the Civil War as ‘Cavaliers (Wrong but Wromantic)’ and ‘Roundheads (Right but Repulsive)’. But this has not been most historians’ view. By and large, the consensus has been one of tempered admiration, not least because, in Hutton’s words, there has been a tendency towards ‘discounting the criticisms and condemnations of Cromwell made by contemporaries, and taking him essentially at his own evaluation’.
This book, which deals with Cromwell’s life and times to 1646, takes nothing for granted, questions every source and identifies ambiguities and inconsistencies, all to fascinating effect. It charts Cromwell’s early fall and subsequent stellar rise from the ranks of the minor gentry in Huntingdonshire, where his family’s wealth represented the dregs of that amassed by his mighty Tudor relation Thomas Cromwell. His inconsequential life as a town worthy and MP might have remained just that had it not been for the disaster from which his greatness would germinate. Erratic behaviour and a loss of temper, to which he was always prone, in 1630 resulted in him being summoned to London and hauled before the Privy Council, where he was publicly chastised. This humiliating episode prompted him to sell up. Within only a few years, he had sunk to the ignominious position of tenant farmer. The darkness of his misery prompted a Damascene conversion. He became, as Hutton remarks, a ‘born-again Puritan’, burning with the fervour of the convert, driven by a personal covenant with God forged in this bleakest hour, which sustained him ever after.
The good fortune of a windfall inheritance from a wealthy uncle rescued Cromwell and his family from penury and brought him the means and standing once again to participate in affairs of the nation – brimming now with religious intent. Reports later emerged that Cromwell had earlier tried to have his uncle condemned as a lunatic, which, had he succeeded, could have brought forward this inheritance. How to reconcile this act of callous self-interest with Cromwell the man of moral courage and personal integrity? One interpretation is that it never happened (the sources are hardly conclusive); another, which Hutton puts forward, is that this is just one glimmer of a different Cromwell: the manipulator, the single-minded pursuer of the fate for which God had intended him, no matter the human cost.
Literary Review | august 2021 12