Cromwell’s expulsion of the Long Parliament in April 1653 led Dorothy Osborne, the 26-year-old daughter of a former Royalist governor of Guernsey, to consider the political ironies of the past twelve years. She wrote to William Temple,

If Mr Pym were alive again I wonder what he would think of these proceedings, and whether they would appear as a great a breach of the Privilege of Parliament as the demanding the five members. But I shall talk treason by and by if I do not look to myself; tis safer talking of the orangeflower water you sent me1

Demonstrating the awareness of the dangers of political commentary which Mr Clopton and Walter Powell showed in their diaries, Dorothy reverted to avoiding recording her political thoughts. Of course in this instance this was more of a joke with her parliamentarian lover William Temple than a serious attempt to cover her thoughts.