The Works of Thomas Carlyle/Volume 6/Letter 23
Sleaford is in Lincolnshire, a march farther south. Lieutenant-General Cromwell with the Eastern-Association Horse, if the ‘Foot’ were once settled,—might not he dash down to help the Lieutenant-General Essex and his ‘Army in the West’? Of whom, and of whose sad predicament amid the hills of Cornwall there, we shall see the issue anon. Brother Walton, a Parliament-man, has written, we perceive, to Cromwell, suggesting such a thing; urging haste if possible. In Cromwell is no delay: but the Eastern-Association Army, horse or foot, is heavy to move,—beset, too, with the old internal discrepancies, Crawfordisms, scandals at Sectaries, and what not.
FOR COLONEL VALENTINE WALTON: THESE, IN LONDON
Sir,—We do with grief of heart resent the sad condition of our Army in the West, and of affairs there. That business has our hearts with it; and truly had we wings, we would fly thither! So soon as ever my Lord and the Foot set me loose, there shall be in me no want to hasten what I can to that service.
For indeed all other considerations are to be laid aside and to give place to it, as being of far more importance. I hope the Kingdom shall see that, in the midst of our necessities, we shall serve them without disputes. We hope to forget our wants, which are exceeding great, and ill cared for; and desire to refer the many slanders heaped upon us by false tongues to God,—who will, in due time, make it appear to the world that we study the glory of God, and the honour and liberty of the Parliament. For which we unanimously fight; without seeking our own interests.
Indeed, we never find our men so cheerful as when there is work to do. I trust you will always hear so of them. The Lord is our strength, and in Him is all our hope. Pray for us. Present my love to my friends: I beg their prayers. The Lord still bless you.
We have some amongst us much[1] slow in action:—if we could all intend our own ends less, and our ease too, our business in this Army would go on wheels for expedition! “But” because some of us are enemies to rapine and other wickednesses, we are said to be ‘factious,’ to ‘seek to maintain our opinions in religion by force,’—which we detest and abhor. I profess I could never satisfy myself of the justness of this War, but from the Authority of the Parliament to maintain itself in its rights: and in this Cause I hope to approve myself an honest man and single-hearted.
Pardon me that I am thus troublesome. I write but seldom: it gives me a little ease to pour my mind, in the midst of calumnies, into the bosom of a friend.
Sir, no man more truly loves you than your brother and servant, OLIVER CROMWELL.[2]