The Puritan Revolution and the Search for Divine Government

The mid-17th century in England was a period of radical upheaval, where the execution of Charles I in 1649 left a power vacuum that Oliver Cromwell and his allies struggled to fill. The Commonwealth, declared after the king’s death, was an unprecedented experiment in republican governance—but one fraught with contradictions. Cromwell, a devout Puritan and military leader, found himself torn between his desire for stability and the millenarian fervor of his most zealous supporters.

By 1653, the Rump Parliament—the remnant of the Long Parliament that had survived Pride’s Purge—had grown increasingly unpopular. Cromwell, frustrated by its inertia, dissolved it with the famous declaration: “You have sat too long for any good you have been doing… In the name of God, go!” Yet what followed was not a clear constitutional alternative but a chaotic, improvised attempt to create a government that would reflect God’s will.

The Assembly of Saints: A Divine Legislature?

Cromwell’s next move was to summon a new governing body, later derisively nicknamed the “Barebones Parliament” after one of its members, Praisegod Barebone. Officially known as the Nominated Assembly, this body was handpicked by Cromwell’s Council of Officers and composed of 140 men deemed “godly” and virtuous. Among them were Fifth Monarchists like Major-General Thomas Harrison, who believed Christ’s return was imminent and that England should be ruled by a council of saints modeled after the biblical Sanhedrin.

Cromwell himself seemed briefly swept up in this apocalyptic enthusiasm. In a speech to the assembly, he invoked biblical language, urging them to “love all the sheep, love all the lambs, love all, tender all.” Yet beneath the religious rhetoric, the reality was far more pragmatic. Most members were not wild-eyed prophets but provincial gentry—landowners, magistrates, and former MPs—who cared more for order than radical reform.

The Collapse of the Godly Experiment

The Barebones Parliament quickly proved unworkable. Radical proposals, such as abolishing tithes and reforming marriage laws, alienated moderates. Meanwhile, hardline Fifth Monarchists like Harrison grew disillusioned when Cromwell refused to embrace their vision of a theocratic state. By December 1653, the assembly was deadlocked, and a group of moderates—including future Restoration figures like Anthony Ashley Cooper—resigned en masse, begging Cromwell to dissolve it.

The failure of the Barebones Parliament exposed the contradictions in Cromwell’s rule. He had championed a godly commonwealth, yet he recoiled from the anarchy of unchecked religious fervor. His subsequent adoption of the Instrument of Government and assumption of the title Lord Protector marked a retreat from radicalism toward a more authoritarian, yet still unstable, regime.

The Legacy of Cromwell’s Unholy Compromise

The Barebones Parliament remains one of history’s most bizarre political experiments—a fleeting moment when England teetered on the edge of theocracy before retreating into pragmatic dictatorship. Its collapse demonstrated the impossibility of reconciling Puritan idealism with the messy realities of governance.

Yet its influence lingered. The Instrument of Government, though short-lived, laid groundwork for later constitutional developments. Cromwell’s uneasy balancing act between radicals and conservatives foreshadowed the tensions that would define the Restoration and the Glorious Revolution. And the dream of a godly republic, though dashed, left an indelible mark on English political thought.

In the end, Cromwell’s attempt to govern by divine inspiration proved as fragile as the Barebones Parliament itself—a cautionary tale of what happens when politics and prophecy collide.