Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great - Volume 09: Little Journeys to the Homes of Great ReformersHubbard, Elbert
History
Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great - Volume 09: Little Journeys to the Homes of Great Reformers
Hubbard, Elbert
Reformers
Oliver's mother sent him a baize or bombazine table-cloth. And this
tablecloth did he cut up, prompted by the devil, into stockings, for
he was justly proud of his calves, the same having been admired by the
co-eds of Cambridge. For all of these things, in after-years, Oliver
did pray forgiveness and beseech pardon for such pride of the eye and
lust of the flesh, manifest in pedal millinery.
A year at Cambridge proved the uselessness of the place, but it was
necessary to go there to find this out. The death of his father
brought matters to a climax, and Oliver must prepare for very hard
times. Then London and a lawyer's office welcomed him.
On Thursday, October Twenty-ninth, Sixteen Hundred Eighteen, Cromwell
saw a curious sight: it was the fall of the curtain in the fifth act
of the life of Sir Walter Raleigh, who introduced tobacco into
England, and did several other things, for which the monarchy was, as
usual, ungrateful. Raleigh had sought to find an Eldorado for England,
and alas! he only found that man must work wherever he is, if he would
succeed, and that fields of gold and springs of eternal youth exist
only in dreams, where they best belong. It was a cold, gray morning,
and Sir Walter was kept standing on the scaffold while the headsman
ground his ax, the delay being for the amusement and edification of
the Christian friends assembled.
"One thing I will never do," said Oliver Cromwell, law-clerk, swart
and lusty, in green stockings and other sartor-resartus trifles; "one
thing I will never do--and that is, take human life!" Oliver was both
tender-hearted and grim.
Sir Walter's frame shook in the cold, dank fog, and the sheriff
offered to bring a brazier of coals; but the great man proudly drew
around him the cloak, now somewhat threadbare, that he had once spread
for good Queen Bess to tread upon, and said, "It is the ague I
contracted in America--the crowd will think it fear--I will soon be
cured of it," and he laid his proud head, gray in the service of his
country, calmly on the block, as if to say, "There now, take that, it
is all I have left to give you!"
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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