Burlington hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1845-185?, 1849-03-08
THE DEATu-BED OF CROMWELL.

THE DEATH-BED OF CROMWELL.
The following from Headley's work is
marked with the usual brilliancy Of this
peculiar writer. Cromwell appears no
longer as the Hypocrite, but rather the
sincere Covenanter, when calledto his last
summons:
At length the last night drew on that
was to usher-in his fortunate day. The
Sd of September, the anniversary Of Dun
bar, and of Marston, came amid wind and
storm. In this solemn hour for England,
strong hearts were everywhere beseech-
ing heaven, to spare the Protector; but the
King of Kings had issued his decree ;
and the spirit that had endured and toilcd
so long, was already gathering its pinions
for eternity. at is fearful thing to fall
into the hands Of the living God" broke
thence from his pallid lips, and then he
fell, in solemn faith on the covenant of
grace. His breath came difficult and
thick; but amid the pauses Of the storm,
he was heard murmuring, "Truly God is
good indeed He is; He will not" his
tongue failed him /; "but," says an eye wit
ness, 81 apprehend it was; He will not
leave me-" Again and again there es-
capped from the ever moving lips the half
articulate words, "God is good-God is
good" Once, with sudden energy, he
exclaimed, 81 ,eould be ,rilling TO liue, to
be further serriceoJle TO God and his people;
but n,y ,cork is done. Yet God ,riN be Nth
his people" All night long, he mnrmured
thus to himself Of God; showing how per-
feet was his trust-how strong his faith.
Once, as some drink was offered him, he
said, at is not my design TO drink or TO
sleep; but my design is to make what
haste l can to be gone 5@El T4at
While this scene was passing in that
solemn chamber, all was wild and terrible
without. Nature seemed to sympathize
with the dying patriot and hero. The
wind howled and reared around the place;
houses were unrooied chimneys blown
down; and the trees that had stood for
half century in the parks, were uptorn,
and strewn over the earth. The sea, too
was vexed--the waves smote liz ungovern-
able fury the shores Of England; and ves-
sells Law stranded along the coasts of the
Mediterranean. 1t was night when
there are,
GAS they say,
Lamentings heard in the air; strange streams OF
death,
And prophesying, with accents terrible
Of dire commotion, and confused events,
Now Matched to the woeful time,
some say the earth,
Was feyerous and shook.''
But all was calm and serene around the
dying bed of Cromwell. On that more
than kingly brow, peace, like white
winged dove, sat ]; and that voice which
had turned the tide ofso many battles now
murmured only prayers. Bonaparte, dy-
ing in the midst of such storm shouted,
"Teie d'arnaee," as his glazing eye fell
once more OH the heads of his mighty COLI
umns disappearing in the smoke Of hattie !;
but Cromwell took noble DEPARTURE
The storm and uproar without, brought no
din of arms to his dying ear-not in the
delirium of battle his soul burst away but
with his eye fixed steadlastly on the
"eternal kingdom and his strong heart
sweetlv on the promise of faithful God,
he moved from the shore oftimc, and sank
from sight forever.
He died at three o'clock that day-on
the very day, which eight years before,
saw his sword flashing over the tumultu
Gus field of Dunbar-the same which Sc
ven years previous, heard him shouting on
the ramparts Of Worcester. But this was
the last and most terrible battle of all vet
he came offvictorious and triumphing over
his last enemy, death, passed into the Sc
rene world, where the sound Of battle new
er comes, and the hatred and violence of
men never disturb.