and another.  Without saying what they meant to do for the Cromwell family, they had In the Interim (May 16) appointed a committee to “take into consideration the present condition of the eldest son of the late Lord-General Cromwell, and to inform themselves what his estate is, and what his debts are, and how they have been contracted, and how far he doth acquiesce in the government of this Commonwealth.”  There were interviews with Richard in Whitehall accordingly, with the result that there was brought to the House on the 25th of May a paper signed by him, together with a schedule of his means and debts.  The paper was, in fact, an abdication, In these terms:  “Having, I hope, in some degree, learnt rather to reverence and submit to the hand of God than to be unquiet under it, and, as to the late providences that have fallen out amongst us, however, in respect of the particular engagements that lay upon me, I could not be active in making a change in the government of these nations, yet, through the goodness of God, I can freely acquiesce in it, being made.”  He promised, in conclusion, to live peaceably under the new government, and to do all in his power to induce those with whom he had any interest to do the same.  From the accompanying schedule it appeared that his debts, incurred by his father or himself in the Protectorship, amounted to L29,640, and that his own clear revenue, after deduction of annuities to his mother and others of the family, was but L1299 a year, and that encumbered by a private debt of L3000.  The House accepted the abdication, undertook the discharge of the debts as stated, voted L2000 at once to Mr. Richard, referred it to a committee to consider what more could be, done towards his “comfortable and honourable subsistence,” and, for the rest, requested him to retire from Whitehall, and “dispose of himself as his private occasions shall require.”  He lingered still a little, fearing arrest by his creditors, but did at length retire to Hampton Court, and thence into deeper and deeper privacy, to live fifty-three years more and become very venerable, though the more rude of the country-people would persist in calling him “Tumble-Down Dick.”  In the week of his abdication there was on the London book-stalls a rigmarole poem on the subject, called The World in a Maze, or Oliver’s Ghost.  It opened with this dialogue between father and son:—­

Oliver P.:  Richard.!.  Richard!  Richard!

Richard:  Who calls “Richard”?  ’Tis a hollow voice;
                  And yet perhaps it may be mine own thoughts.

Oliver:  No:  ’tis thy father risen from the grave;
                  Nor—­would I have thee fooled, nor yet turn knave.

Richard:  I could not help it, father.[1]

[Footnote 1:  Commons Journals of dates; Parl.  Hist.  III. 1551-1557; Pamphlet, of given title, dated May 21 in MS. in the Thomason copy.]