The mutiny at Bishopsgate on 24–25 April 1649, and the subsequent execution of Robert Lockier five days later, stand as pivotal moments in the English Revolution. Ariel Hessayon’s recent reconstruction, "What happened at Bishopsgate. Part two," offers a detailed account of these events, drawing from newsbooks, Leveller pamphlets, and the Laws and Ordinances of War. However, the accuracy of his detailed narration reveals the boundaries of current academic historiography. Hessayon provides evidence for a class-based analysis but stops short of making that analysis himself. As a result, his work presents a factual outline without the political analysis needed to understand the episode's significance fully.
The Bishopsgate incident was not an isolated disturbance at
the barracks. It marked the beginning of a coordinated effort by the bourgeois
leadership of the New Model Army — including Fairfax, Cromwell, Whalley, and
Okey — to dismantle the Leveller-influenced agitator network within the ranks
before it could develop into an organised political threat. Lockier’s execution
symbolised the initial step in a counter-revolution conducted from within the
revolution itself.
The New Model Army as the Representative of the Bourgeois
Revolution
Marxists have long acknowledged that the English Revolution
was a bourgeois revolution. Trotsky, in 'Where Is Britain Going?', pointed out
two key revolutionary traditions in British history: Cromwell’s in the
seventeenth century and Chartism’s in the nineteenth. The Whig myth of gradual
constitutional change dismissed both. Cromwell’s army was not just a military
force but the organised backbone of the revolutionary bourgeoisie. It
repeatedly purged Parliament to align it with the interests of the emerging
capitalist class. It overthrew the monarchy and the feudal system. When needed,
it also turned against the working-class layers whose democratic hopes risked
extending the revolution beyond bourgeois boundaries.
Christopher Hill, in works like The World Turned Upside
Down, argued that the mid-seventeenth-century crisis was more than a
constitutional dispute; it was a social revolution. The common people—soldiers,
apprentices, small producers—became engaged in political life for the first
time, gaining new awareness. They called for annual parliaments, manhood
suffrage, legal equality, and the subordination of military authority to
civilian control. Although these demands were not socialist, they challenged
the limits of the emerging capitalist system.
The Levellers embodied the clearest expression of this
popular democratic movement. Their impact within the army was significant. The
agitators of 1647 compelled the Grandees to address political authority at
Putney. The Agreement of the People was the most developed democratic plan
arising from the revolution. In spring 1649, the Grandees aimed to suppress
this current.
Bishopsgate: The First Confrontation
Hessayon’s account offers insight into Bishopsgate as a
political clash. He highlights the mutiny’s roots in disputes over unpaid
wages, the despised “wooden horse” punishment, and the soldiers’ defiance of
what they saw as unjust commands. However, these issues were linked to wider
political unrest. Soldiers wore sea-green ribbons—the Leveller emblem—and
circulated petitions referencing Magna Carta and the Petition of Right. They
were part of an organised network within the army that had been active since
1647.
The Grandees recognised this and responded quickly and in a
coordinated fashion. Cromwell reached Bishopsgate, “very furiously breathing
forth nothing but death to them all,” and declared that the mutineers “should
all be hanged” before any trial could occur. Whalley, who had negotiated with
the soldiers, acted as judge advocate—serving as investigator, prosecutor, and
judge simultaneously. Witnesses faced accusations of perjury and of “whispering
into the ears” of the court to stir up its “holy zeal.” The verdict was fundamentally
predetermined. Hessayon cites these details but interprets them as mere
narrative colour. In truth, they expose the political nature of the
proceedings. The trial was not a genuine judicial process but political theatre
designed to instil terror among the ranks.
The Execution of Robert Lockier
Lockier, approximately 23 years old with seven years of
service and £140 in arrears, was widely seen as "a godly man" even by
hostile officers. He signed the mutineers’ petition, refused the chaplain’s
spiritual advice, and declared that his blood would “speak Liberty and Freedom
to all England.” His comrades wrote an epitaph: “Thy blood send forth a Crop of
Liberty.” Lockier’s selection was deliberate; he represented a social type the
Grandees feared—a politically aware soldier linked to the Leveller network,
capable of expressing the democratic hopes of the rank-and-file. His execution
aimed to eliminate this type.
Five co-defendants were reprieved, while Lockier was
executed alone. This was not merely "exemplary punishment” in a military
context but a deliberate act of political violence. Nine days afterwards,
Fairfax and Cromwell personally defeated the much larger Burford mutiny,
effectively ending the Leveller movement within the army.
The Counter‑Revolution Within the Revolution
Bishopsgate's importance lies in illustrating how the
bourgeois revolution's dynamics unfold. After the revolutionary bourgeoisie
achieves its goals—dismantling feudal power and establishing a property-based
constitutional system—it shifts its hostility towards the common people who
supported the revolution. The Levellers’ agenda aimed to empower small
producers, artisans, and soldiers with political influence, challenging the
property settlement the Grandees sought to establish.
Lockier’s blood marked the boundary. The English Revolution
did not fail due to the Levellers' extremism. Instead, it failed because the
bourgeoisie, having mobilised the masses to overthrow the old regime, then
refused to let those same masses influence or shape the new order.
Robert Lockier and the Blind Spots of Current
Historiography
Hessayon’s essay serves as a valuable documentary
reconstruction, with maps, illustrations, and meticulous source analysis
creating a dependable narrative framework. However, its structure largely
echoes the officer-class perspective, positioning Lockyer’s politics as mere
background. The Leveller pamphlets are dismissed as curiosities, and the class
nature of the mutiny remains unexplored. This isn't a personal shortcoming but
rather a reflection of the current academic historiography, which has regressed
into antiquarian empiricism and moved away from interpretative explanations.
Instead of viewing the English Revolution as a dynamic process driven by class
forces, it is seen as a patchwork of isolated events.
The execution of Robert Lockier on 29 April 1649 remains one
of the most politically revealing episodes of the English Revolution. It
exposes, with stark clarity, the moment when the bourgeois leadership of the
New Model Army turned its guns on the plebeian layers whose democratic
aspirations threatened to push the revolution beyond the limits of property and
privilege. Yet in contemporary academic historiography, Lockier’s death is
treated not as a political act but as an unfortunate disciplinary incident — a
tragic footnote in the army’s post‑regicide turbulence.
This depoliticisation reflects a broader retreat in
seventeenth‑century scholarship. The dominant trends of the last three decades
— micro‑history, “lived experience,” and the rejection of grand narratives —
have produced impressive empirical detail but have fragmented the revolution
into disconnected episodes. Bishopsgate becomes a “mutiny,” Burford a
“disciplinary crisis,” the Levellers a “political movement,” rather than
interconnected expressions of class struggle within a bourgeois revolution.
Ariel Hessayon’s recent reconstruction of the Bishopsgate
mutiny exemplifies this tendency. His narrative is granular, source‑rich, and
archivally meticulous. He notes where “accounts differ,” weighs partisan
newsbooks, and reconstructs Lockier’s final hours from multiple eyewitness
sources. But the political meaning of the episode — the reason Lockier was
executed at all — is left unexamined.
As was mentioned earlier, Hessayon records Cromwell arriving
“very furiously breathing forth nothing but death to them all,” declaring that
the mutineers “should all be hanged” before any trial had taken place. He notes
that Colonel Whalley, who negotiated with the troopers, served as judge
advocate at the court martial — simultaneously investigator, prosecutor, and
judge. He quotes accusations of perjury and “whispering into the ears” of the
court to stir up its “holy zeal.” These details reveal a coordinated political
operation by the army’s high command to terrorise the rank‑and‑file and destroy
the Leveller‑influenced agitator network within the army. Yet they appear in
the essay as atmospheric colour rather than as evidence of class strategy.
The result is a historiography that can describe Lockyer’s
execution but cannot explain it. The English Revolution is treated as a
constitutional crisis, a “war of three kingdoms,” or a mosaic of local
conflicts — anything but a bourgeois revolution driven by class forces. The New
Model Army appears as an institution rather than as the organised instrument of
the revolutionary bourgeoisie. The Levellers become pamphleteers rather than
the political expression of the plebeian and proto‑proletarian layers whose
democratic demands threatened the property settlement the Grandees were
preparing.
A Marxist historiographical perspective restores what
current scholarship has lost. It situates Bishopsgate, Lockier’s execution, and
Burford within a single process: the counter‑revolution within the revolution,
the moment when the bourgeoisie, having destroyed the old order, turned against
the masses who had carried the revolution forward. Lockier’s dying words — that
his blood would “speak Liberty and Freedom to all England” — were not
rhetorical flourishes but the articulation of a political consciousness that
the Grandees recognised as a mortal threat.
The poverty of current historiography lies not in its
archival work but in its refusal to confront the political meaning of the
evidence it assembles. Lockier’s execution cannot be understood without
recognising the revolution's class dynamics. To treat it as a disciplinary
episode is to reproduce, in scholarly form, the standpoint of the officer corps
who ordered his death.
The task of historical scholarship is not only to recover
what happened but to explain why it mattered. On this question, the mainstream
historiography of the English Revolution remains silent. Marxist historiography
must speak where it refuses to.
Why Bishopsgate Matters Today
The execution of Robert Lockier is not merely a footnote in
the history of the New Model Army. It reminds us that every bourgeois
revolution contains a counter‑revolution directed against the masses who made
it possible. The democratic aspirations of the plebeian layers — whether in
seventeenth‑century England, nineteenth‑century France, or the revolutions of
the twentieth century — always exceed what the bourgeoisie can tolerate.
Lockyer’s dying words — that his blood would “speak Liberty
and Freedom to all England” — were not fulfilled in his lifetime. But they
remain part of the revolutionary tradition that Marxists defend: the tradition
of those who sought to push the revolution beyond the limits imposed by
property and privilege.
Bishopsgate is a warning and a lesson. Revolutions do not
end when the old order is destroyed. They end when the revolutionary masses are
suppressed.
Sources and Bibliography
Primary Sources
- The
Laws and Ordinances of Warre (London, 1647–49). Official New Model
Army code used in Lockier’s court-martial; essential for understanding the
legal framework invoked by Fairfax and Cromwell.
- Justice
of the Army against Evill‑doers (London, 1649). A hostile, Grandees‑aligned
account of the Bishopsgate mutiny and Lockier’s execution.
- The
Army’s Martyr, or, A True Relation of the Life and Death of Robert Lockier
(London, 1649). Leveller‑sympathetic pamphlet containing Lockier’s dying
speech and epitaph.
- Lilburne,
John & Overton, Richard. The Picture of the Councel of State
(1649) and related Tower pamphlets condemning Lockier’s execution as
political repression.
- Newsbooks:
Perfect Occurrences, Mercurius Pragmaticus, The Moderate,
The Kingdomes Weekly Intelligencer (April–May 1649). Provide
partisan reportage of the mutiny and execution.
- Maps
and visual sources: Wenceslaus Hollar’s London prospects; John
Norden’s Civitas Londini; Ogilby & Morgan’s London Survey
(1676). Used to reconstruct the geography of Bishopsgate and St Paul’s
Churchyard.
Secondary Scholarship: Current Historiography
Revisionist and Post‑Revisionist Works
These represent the dominant academic trends you critique —
empirically rich, politically cautious, and often allergic to class analysis.
- Ariel
Hessayon, “What happened at Bishopsgate. Part Two” (2024). The article
under review; exemplary of micro‑historical reconstruction without
political interpretation.
- Ian
Gentles, The New Model Army in England, Ireland and Scotland
(1992; rev. ed. 2022). Authoritative military history; emphasises
discipline and institutional structure over class dynamics.
- David
Underdown, Pride’s Purge (1971). Classic revisionist account of
army‑Parliament relations; foundational for the “political process”
school.
- Austin
Woolrych, Soldiers and Statesmen (1987). Detailed narrative of
army politics; cautious about Leveller influence.
- Michael
Mendle, The Putney Debates of 1647 (2001). Important editorial
work; tends to minimise Leveller radicalism.
- Ann
Hughes, Gangraena and the Struggle for the English Revolution
(2004). Cultural‑political analysis; part of the “religious turn” that
often sidelines class.
- John
Morrill, various essays on the “multiple kingdoms” framework.
Influential in shifting focus away from social revolution toward
constitutional crisis.
Leveller Studies
- Rachel
Foxley, The Levellers: Radical Political Thought in the English
Revolution (2013). Strong intellectual history; less concerned with
class forces.
- H.
N. Brailsford, The Levellers and the English Revolution (1961).
Still the most politically sensitive non‑Marxist study of Leveller
democracy.
Marxist Historiography
These works supply the analytical framework missing from
current scholarship—an understanding of the English Revolution as a bourgeois
revolution containing a plebeian democratic wing.
- Leon
Trotsky, Where Is Britain Going? (1925). Foundational Marxist
interpretation of Cromwell, the New Model Army, and the revolutionary
tradition.
- Christopher
Hill
- The
World Turned Upside Down (1972)
- God’s
Englishman: Oliver Cromwell and the English Revolution (1970)
- The
English Revolution 1640 (1940). Hill’s oeuvre remains the most
comprehensive Marxist analysis of the revolution’s class dynamics.
- Brian
Manning
- The
English People and the English Revolution (1976)
- The
Far Left in the English Revolution (1972). Manning’s work restores
the agency of plebeian and proto‑proletarian layers.
- Ann
Talbot, “Christopher Hill and the English Revolution” (WSWS, 2003). A
concise Marxist appraisal of Hill’s contribution.
- David
North, essays on bourgeois revolution and historical method (WSWS).
Useful for situating seventeenth‑century historiography within
contemporary ideological trends.