Monk was beginning to recover somewhat from his first discouragement, when news arrived at Dalkeith that Lambert had turned out Parliament, and that on the eve of its expulsion the House had nominated Monk as one of the seven commissioners entrusted with the government of the army. Monk immediately resolved upon his course of action. He repaired to Edinburgh and caused the troops to be assembled together. "The army of England," he said, "has expelled Parliament; in their uneasy and ambitious frame they claim to govern altogether themselves, and prevent any sound establishment for the nation. They will soon go as far as to desire to impose their violent pretensions upon the army of Scotland, which is neither inferior nor subordinate to them. As for me, I consider myself compelled by the duty of my position to keep the military power in obedience to the civil power; it is from Parliament that you have received your commissions and your pay: you should defend it. I hope that in this you will all obey me willingly; but if there are any among you who think otherwise, they are at liberty to quit the service; they shall receive their passes." The troops responded with acclamations, and the resolution of the Scottish army was immediately notified to the English army, in order to remind it of the engagements which it had violated, while Monk wrote himself to Lambert and to Fleetwood, as well as to Lenthall, declaring to all three that he was resolved to support and defend, if need be, the cause of Parliament.
When the letters of Monk arrived in London, on the 28th of October, they caused great commotion. The military leaders had striven to construct a government, and had as yet only succeeded in forming a council of safety, in which the members intrigued against each other. Disorder smouldered in certain regiments. If Monk should act for Parliament, what would ensue? In what direction did he tend? What did he desire? Vane and Whitelocke gave expression to their suspicions that he meditated the return of Charles Stuart. Lambert offered to march against Monk. "It is necessary to send negotiators to him to prevent so dangerous a rupture," it was said. Three commissioners, among whom was Clarges, brother-in-law of Monk, and secretly implicated in all his designs, were commissioned to proceed and confer with him, while Lambert, having been nominated commander of all the forces of the North, set out for his post, being instructed to fight Monk if the attempts at conciliation should collapse. The army of England replied to the army of Scotland. Fleetwood replied to Monk with the affectionate familiarity of an old comrade wounded at heart as well as alarmed. Letters poured down upon Dalkeith, now designed to awaken sympathy, now to sow division.
The commissioners reached Monk. The general, for his part, encountered grave embarrassments; the army of Scotland had coldly responded to his advances; the governor of some important towns of which he had wished to take possession had remained faithful to the army of England. In a conversation with his brother-in-law, Clarges, the latter asked him what was really his design. "Do not think," he said, "that after this rupture you might make your peace with the army of England. … Those people never placed confidence in you." "I must have a negotiation," said Monk, ever prudent, even with his most confidential friends; "the time is against them." And he immediately convoked the council-general of the officers, to confer with them.
The taciturn chief comprehended that in the great undertaking in which he had embarked, the simple obedience of his agents was not sufficient, and that their intelligent and voluntary assistance was necessary. In the council which he formed he allowed anything to be said, but spoke little himself. Two commissioners were chosen by the general at the solicitation of the officers; he refused to designate the third; the commissioner who was nominated did not suit his views, but he did not complain, and the three delegates immediately set out for London, encountering Lambert on the way, who ill-humoredly suffered them to pass, when he learnt that the first condition of the negotiations was the recall of the Parliament which he had expelled.
Lambert, meanwhile, was in no hurry to come to blows. At York he encountered Morgan, but recently appointed Major-General of the Scotch army, who was proceeding to his post, when an attack of gout arrested him on the way. Morgan loudly censured the conduct of Monk. Lambert asked him whether he would not willingly devote his efforts to paralyzing his influence over the army. Morgan consented, and at the moment when the commissioners of the general were quitting York to proceed to London to prosecute their negotiation, Morgan on the other hand set out thence to repair to Edinburgh on behalf of Lambert, to arrange with Monk or to alienate his soldiers from him.
Monk received Morgan like an old friend and an officer to whom he owed the greatest consideration. "I come," the latter said to him, "to ask you whether you will lay down your arms, and become reunited in friendship with Fleetwood and Lambert." "If they wish to re-establish Parliament," replied Monk, "I shall not have much to say." "I have promised to put the question to you," said Morgan, "but not to take back the answer. I am not a politician, but I am certain that you are a friend of the country, and I am ready to take part in anything you may do." At the same time the messenger of Lambert delivered to Monk a letter of the chaplain of Fairfax, Dr. Bowles, offering to the general of the army of Scotland the assistance of the former general of the Long Parliament, and of a great number of gentlemen of Yorkshire, provided he would declare himself against the established form of government more clearly than he had done in his declaration.
"I am asked for that which would ruin me," said Monk; "I am already at sufficient pains to persuade the army that I do not propose to bring back the king." And he continued in his falsehoods. But before proceeding to bring his quarters nearer to the frontier, he came to an understanding with the principal Scottish noblemen, and with a certain number of deputies of the towns, entrusting to them the safety of Scotland, and asking them to cause the arrears of taxes to be paid and to preserve order. They would willingly have offered more, but Monk contrived to restrain their zeal, and he was able to cope with the elements of division which the commissioners of the army of England sought to sow among his troops. They did not always act with tact. One day, General Deane, specially sent by Fleetwood, passed in front of a company of infantry. "Lambert is marching upon you," said he, "and all the army of Monk will not be a breakfast for him." "The cold weather then will have given Lambert," said the offended soldiers, "a good appetite if he eats our pikes and swallows our bullets." Monk sent back Deane, reprimanding him for his arrogance, and he was at Haddington on the road to England, on the 18th of November, 1659, when he received despatches from the Committee of Safety. Scarcely had Monk read them when he re-entered his room without saying a word, and on the morrow returned to Edinburgh.
It was a treaty comprising nine articles for the reconciliation of the two armies, concluded in London in three days by the emissaries of Monk, who had been circumvented and trifled with by the Republicans. There was no question involved in it of the re-establishment of the Long Parliament. All the declarations against Charles Stuart were renewed, and the dissolution of the Scotch army was prepared for by the revision to which the titles of the officers appointed by Monk were to be subjected. It was the ruin of the general, of his power, his partisans, and his schemes.
On his return to Edinburgh, where the news was already circulating. Monk found his staff strongly agitated. He was walking to and fro in silence in the council-chamber when his chaplain, Gumble, entered. "I come to make a trifling request," he said to the general. "What is that?" "I beg you will have the goodness to sign me a pass for Holland. There is at Leith a vessel ready to set sail, and I am anxious to take the opportunity." "What! you desire to leave me?" "I don't know how your Highness will provide for your own safety when your command is taken from you; but as for a poor devil like myself I don't wish to remain in their power. I know what would happen to me if I did." "Is it to me that you make all these reproaches?" asked Monk sharply. "Let the army hold for me and I will hold for the army." All present exclaimed that they were ready to live or die with their general. The same impulse communicated itself to all the army. The malcontents did not dare to show their dissent. It was suggested that the treaty should be simply rejected. Monk contented himself with declaring by the council of officers that certain articles were obscure, and that negotiations must be reopened. The messengers of the Committee of Safety were sent back to their masters with these new propositions; the army of Scotland, continuing its march, removed its headquarters to Berwick.
It was there that the general received, at the end of November, a letter signed by nine members of the old Council of State, who had met in secret in London under the presidency of Scott, who conferred on him the title of Commander-in-chief of all the forces of England and Scotland. The shrewd instincts of Monk had not deceived him. Time and the very foundation of affairs were working more effectively for him than all the intrigues. The party of the army became more and more disorganized. Lambert, without funds, at the head of troops discontented and divided, had caused secret proposals to be addressed to the king, promising to re-establish him on the throne on condition that he should marry his daughter. Fleetwood also made advances to the Royalists. The politic Hyde treated with them all, not without some contempt in the bottom of his heart. "If the two crowns of France and Spain," he wrote, "would but declare openly that they will have no dealings with these fanatics who have neither form nor order of government, and who respect no rule either among themselves or towards others, we should come to the end of our work. The money which was required twenty years ago to buy five of our manors in the west, would suffice now to purchase the whole kingdom."
Hyde was mistaken. The kingdom was not to be bought, and conscientious and indomitable devotion to the republic was not wanting. But the general disposition of the nation, enlightened and wearied by its own errors, was leading it back to Charles Stuart. If the public feeling had not undergone a change, it would have been in vain to buy the great personages who were offering themselves to him.
At this moment and on the surface the cause of Parliament seemed again to become popular; the governor of Portsmouth had summoned Haslerig thither, who rallied round him his friends. The city of London renewed its council by elections hostile to military government. The fleet, commanded by Admiral Lawson, declared itself in favor of Parliament. A rising gentry in the county of York was preparing under the inspiration of Fairfax, who, like Monk, was a Royalist, though he did not pronounce that word. Even in the councils of the army there had been a talk of the recall of Charles Stuart as the sole means of restoring peace to the nation; but that idea had been hurriedly discarded. "We could not," said he, "trust ourselves to him for our safety; for even if he was himself well resolved to accomplish what he had promised, his Parliament would not ratify his promises, and we should be lost." The summoning of a new Parliament was then resolved upon, and their meeting fixed for the 24th of January. The soldiers even no longer obeyed their officers. They disbanded themselves, and pillaged in the neighborhood of their garrisons. Irritation and anxiety reigned on all sides. The Parliamentary party felt that the moment had arrived. Scott and some other members of the Council of State met in London at the residence of Lenthall, and assuming in concert with him the power which no one now retained, they ordered the troops to assemble in Lincoln's Inn Fields in order to be passed in review by the Colonels Alured and Oakey, men devoted to the cause of Parliament. The generals being deserted retired. Desborough sought safety in the camp of Lambert. Fleetwood, always weak, acknowledged his error; he sent to Lenthall the keys of the House of Commons. Forty members reassembled there on the evening of the 26th of December, applauded by the soldiers who gathered on their way.
Monk had arrived at Coldstream, a little village situated on the extreme border of Scotland. He received news at the same time of the re-establishment of the Long Parliament and the precipitate insurrection of Fairfax. The old general was threatened by Lambert. Monk resolved to sustain him, still marching towards London. On the 1st of January, 1660, in brilliant sunshine, although the weather was extremely cold, the army of Scotland crossed the Tweed, and the same day took up its first quarters on English soil at Wooler, in the county of Northumberland.
The march of Monk towards London was not destined to be retarded by any struggle. He received in the night letters from the restored Long Parliament, which thanked him coldly without undertaking to support him. The same messengers had borne to Lambert's troops an order to disperse and to return to their various quarters. Monk had no difficulty in perceiving that little confidence was reposed in him: but that no one dared undertake anything against him. He continued to advance. Lambert's army was already disbanded when he arrived at Newcastle. The general, abandoned by all, had retired to a little country house. Everywhere on his route Monk was received by the people with acclamations.
On the 11th of January Monk was at York tête-à-tête with Fairfax, who was detained by the gout. He offered, it is said, to the old general of the Long Parliament the command of all the forces which he could gather together for their common object. Fairfax obstinately refused, declaring that to Monk alone that command should belong in the interests of the success of his plans. In the evening the general had a long conversation with Fairfax's chaplain, Dr. Bowles. "What do you think of this?" said Monk to his chaplain, Price. "Mr. Bowles, on the part of my Lord Fairfax, has very warmly pressed me to remain here and declare for the king." "And you have promised to do so, sir?" "No, truly, I have promised nothing." They looked at each other. Price continued: "After the death of the great Gustavus, king of Sweden, I heard it related that when he entered Germany he said that if his shirt knew of his intentions he would pull it off his back and burn it. Do as he did, sir, until you are in London. You will then see what is to be done." Monk had no need of Price's counsel to be silent and dissemble. Being informed that an officer had said that "Monk will end by bringing us back Charles Stuart," he struck him publicly with his cane, threatening with the same punishment any one who should dare to repeat the calumny. Meanwhile he advanced, being well informed of the state of public feeling in London by his chaplain, Gumble, to whom he had entrusted his letters to Parliament. "The prevailing and governing influence of Parliament (wrote the latter) is reduced into the hands of a few and inconsiderable persons, either hair-brained and hot-headed fools or obscure and disregarded knaves. They regard all those who have been in the service of Oliver Cromwell, or who have adhered to the Committee of Safety, as renegades from the good old cause. They are satisfied that your inclination is for the king, and would willingly replace Lambert at the head of their army to resist you. They are about to confiscate the property of all the gentlemen who were engaged in Sir George Booth's plot. … These gentry, moreover, are infinitely divided among themselves. But keep your troops well about you, without which you are in the greatest peril."
Gumble had not exaggerated the picture of the miserable dissensions in the lately restored Parliament. This handful of Republicans who aspired to keep in subjection to the republic a nation which obstinately rejected its authority, were still divided and mutually persecuting each other. Whitelocke, threatened with confinement in the Tower, was compelled to retire into the country. Vane was sent to his residence at Raby. Ludlow was summoned to return from Ireland to answer a charge of high treason. They would gladly have made the Royalists the objects of their anger and their attacks; but that party made no movement. They did not dare to assail Monk, notwithstanding the suspicions with which he was regarded. Parliament even voted a sum of money in his favor. A letter was despatched to him, thanking him for his great services and his march towards London. At length it was decreed that two members selected from amongst the most violent Republicans—Scott and Robinson—should be the bearers of the acknowledgments of the gratitude of the House, and should accompany him on his journey. The general was already at Leicester when the delegates arrived at his headquarters.
Monk had not brought with him his entire army. Only 5,800 men accompanied him, but his troops were sure. On setting foot in England they had instituted the strict rule of camps—no more councils, no more deliberations. The little army advanced quietly, gently to the sound of the bells which greeted them on their entry into the towns, confident in their general, and not requiring to know whither he was leading them.
No one questioned Monk regarding his plans, but dissimulation became every day more difficult. Everywhere people eagerly gathered around him. The gentry and the citizens sought interviews with him and opportunities of presenting addresses expressing their regrets and their desires. As a rule these were not Cavaliers—they were Presbyterians; sometimes men who had previously become compromised among the opposition and who had long served Parliament. No mention was made of king or monarchy. Some required the return to Parliament of the members expelled in 1648; others demanded a new and free Parliament. Probably at the instigation of Scott, Monk had already written to some of his friends, who demanded the return of the excluded members, to dissuade them from their design in the name of order and of unity in the government. Now he scarcely replied to the pressing appeals of his visitors, confining himself to receiving them with courtesy, and always intrenching himself behind the civil authority, which the two members of Parliament always at his side were eager to exercise. Scott became angry with the petitions and the petitioners. "I am a very old man," he exclaimed one day, "and I could in any case excuse myself from taking arms; but rather than see the present Parliament hampered and nullified by the return of the excluded members or by new elections, I would draw my sword and myself shut the door against those men!" Amidst these explosions of anger and tokens of haughtiness from his watchful visitors, Monk remained cold and impassive. It suited him to let the public ill-humor fall on them alone, and their presence to appear evidently the cause of his taciturnity.
Scott and Robinson meanwhile continued to be anxious and suspicious, and they had good cause. In approaching London, Monk considered that the moment had arrived for acting with authority; and without consulting the two commissioners, he despatched to Parliament a letter prepared long before, which demanded the removal to other quarters of the army of Parliament recently reconstituted under the orders of General Butler. "I must tell you in good truth," he wrote, "that I do not think it good for your service that those soldiers in London, who once revolted against you, should mingle with those who have proved to you their fidelity." He undertook that his troops could easily do the service required. The city was angry, and there was some agitation; but the demand was granted. This movement of the regiments which were compelled to leave London increased the importance of the protection of the general, and when he entered the Strand, on the 3d of February, at the head of his cavalry, the interview between him and Lenthall was as courteous as it was assiduous. Monk repaired to Whitehall, where he established himself in the apartments of the Prince of Wales, which were prepared to receive him.
Distrust and dissimulation cannot long confront each other without bringing truth into the light of day. The general was scarcely in London when ill-feeling began to break out between him and the Parliament which he professed to serve. He had refused the oath of abjuration of the monarchy and the Stuarts. "I must have time to consider it," he said; "many worthy men in my army have scruples regarding oaths; seven of my colleagues of the Council of State have refused to take this. I desire to have a conference with them on the subject." In a solemn sitting of the House it had been complained that Monk had exhibited too dictatorial a spirit and too much regard for popularity. Notwithstanding the general's efforts at dissimulation—notwithstanding the anger of the eager Royalists, who wrote to Hyde, "Monk has thrown off the mask, he is openly republican, he has played the wretchedest part imaginable!"—the instinct of the masses drew them towards him as towards an unexpected liberator. It was to Monk and not to the House that they presented the addresses of the boroughs and the counties, demanding a complete and free Parliament. All the rigors employed by the House against the Royalists could not prevent them raising their heads. "They talk very loud," said Whitelocke, "affirming that the king will soon be in England."
A new and powerful ally had arisen for the secret projects of Monk. The city of London, that hotbed of the Presbyterian and reforming party whence the Long Parliament in the height of its power had drawn support in its struggle against Charles I., now openly raised against the feeble and mutilated Parliament the standard of resistance. The Common Council decided that it would not pay taxes imposed on the city until it saw the establishment of a free and complete Parliament. This was both the moral and material ruin of the power which was still sitting at Westminster.
The anger which this excited was commensurate with the danger. Parliament called on Monk and gave him orders to enter the city, to pull down in the streets the chains and posts, to destroy the gates, and arrest eleven of the rebellious citizens. The conference lasted a long time. Monk returned home at three o'clock in the morning, gloomy and anxious. At dawn of day, when the soldiers received the order to march into the city, they began to question among each other, not knowing what service they were to be employed in. Those officers who rallied round the general at an inn with the sign of "The Three Tuns," near Guildhall, were in consternation, and they entreated him not to require from them so odious a service. Monk walked to and fro in the room. "Will you not obey the orders of Parliament?" he asked. Some few understood him. They obeyed; the work of destruction began. The citizens rushed out into the streets breathing rage against their assailants. "Is this that General Monk who was to bring us back the king? It is a Scottish devil. What new misfortunes are we doomed to undergo?" The more influential citizens sought an interview with the general. "You would obtain from us much more easily by persuasion than by force what you might reasonably demand," they said. Monk appeared moved by this language. He consented to suspend his mournful task. "I have good reasons for hoping," he wrote to the House, "that they will pay the tax. I await your orders for continuing the destruction of the gates and portcullis. They desire the liberation of the members of the Court of Common Council who have been arrested. I recommend that prayer to your serious attention." And he added, "I humbly implore you to hasten to pass the Elections Bill, so that the orders necessary for completing the House may be despatched." The House did not yield to the wishes of Monk, but gave him instructions to complete his work in the city. He obeyed, notwithstanding the ill-humor of his soldiers. "We have come from Scotland, where our old enemies loved us, to oppress our friends here," they said. That evening the city had lost all its ancient defences, and the general returned to Whitehall.
There was great anxiety among the friends of Monk. As soon as he had left the city they flocked around him. "The House," they said, "distrusted him; in vain it pretended to be grateful. It might at any moment deprive him of his command." There was urgent necessity for recovering the shattered confidence of the city and the Presbyterian party by declaring for a complete and free Parliament. Monk hesitated, asking for two days to consult with his officers, but his friends pressed him. A letter to Parliament was drawn up, setting forth the grievances and the desires of the country, and demanding that they should be satisfied by a day fixed. This was signed by the general and fourteen superior officers. The document was conveyed to Parliament. Monk, at the head of his troops, took the road to the city, which was alarmed and troubled at seeing those from whom it had just received such harsh affronts suddenly return. The Lord Mayor did not conceal from the general the uneasiness of the citizens. "I come precisely," replied Monk, "to put an end to the misunderstandings which have arisen between the city and me. Summon the Common Council for four o'clock; I desire to have a conference with them." These words sufficed to throw light on the situation. The Common Council had been dissolved by Parliament. They sat down at the council table. Presently two commissioners from Parliament desired to be conducted into the presence of the general. These were Scott and Robinson, who were the bearers of the thanks of the House of Commons to Monk. He pressed them to return to Whitehall. "Let the House do what I have advised them in my letter," he said, "let it issue on Friday next the writs for completing the Parliament, and all will be well." He dismissed the two commissioners and repaired to the Guildhall. "The last time that I visited you," he said on entering, "was on the most disagreeable business that I have ever been charged with in my life; and one altogether against my inclination. I come to-day to tell you that I have this morning written to Parliament, requesting that they will order within a week the elections which will fill the vacant seats, and that they will dissolve on the 6th of May, to give place to a complete and free Parliament. Meanwhile I have resolved that my army shall take up its quarters in the city, there to wait in the midst of you until I have seen my letter put in execution and your wishes fulfilled."
As he uttered these last words the voice of Monk was drowned in acclamations. The news spread through the city with the rapidity of lightning. Bonfires were lighted in all directions, into which they cast all the rumps of beef or hind quarters of sheep that they could find at the butchers. These were the "rumps" which they roasted to the singing of staves, while dancing, and from time to time drinking to the health of the king. The bells rang out with all their power; the soldiers were surrounded and feted on all sides. The intervention of Monk was necessary to preserve discipline, and to quiet the people who talked of going in the morning to drive the speaker from his seat, and Parliament from its Hall.
Meanwhile the Republican Parliament felt that it had received a mortal stab, and in its impotent rage it precipitately adopted odious severities. Vane, who had secretly returned to London some days before, received orders to return to his residence at Raby. Ludlow came to bid him farewell. "Unless I am much mistaken," said Vane, "Monk has yet several masks to put off. For myself, my conscience is at rest. I have done all that God enabled me to do for the Commonwealth. I hope He will grant me strength enough for my trials, however rough they may be, that I may still render to His cause faithful testimony." This noble spirit, so sincere in its visionary doctrines, had yet to suffer much, and was already hardening himself against the prospect of martyrdom.
Monk seemed to have relapsed into his habitual mood of indecision and silence. While the House was preparing the writs which were to fill up the vacant seats, including those of the expelled members, the general, still in courteous communication with it, had interviews at the same time with the members who were pursued by their old enemies, received daily messages from the Royalists, who were becoming constantly more exacting regarding his real intentions, and endeavored to establish a good understanding between the officers and the Presbyterians, for whom he preserved his old predilection. The situation, nevertheless, became every day more strained. At length Monk resolved to do himself without delay what he had not succeeded in bringing about by the mere course of events with the adhesion of those who were concerned. On the 21st of February, after obtaining from the excluded members an undertaking to summon for the 20th of April following, a complete and free Parliament, he left his fortified quarters in the city, and assembling at Whitehall his new allies, "Return to the House to fulfill your salutary task," he said; "not only will the guards willingly allow you to enter, but I and the officers under my orders, and I believe all the officers of these three nations, will willingly shed our blood for the future Parliament."
Under the escort of Major Miller, who commanded the general's guard, the excluded members set out for Westminster. Other officers were awaiting their arrival at the doors. They entered: the House was silent but agitated. A few republican leaders rose and went out. "This is your work," said Haslerig, crossing over to Ashley-Cooper, "but it will cost you blood." "Your blood, if you please," replied his colleague. The rest of the members kept their seats. A letter from Monk arrived. It was read without comment. The general had quitted his quarters in the city and established himself in St. James's Palace.
It was thither that Haslerig and his friends repaired to learn, as they said, from his own mouth, why he had opened the House to the expelled members. "To free myself from their importunities," replied Monk; "I will take good care to prevent their doing any mischief." "But will you, general, still join with us against Charles Stuart and his adherents?" "I have often declared to you that such is my determination," answered Monk, taking off his glove, and placing his hand in that of Haslerig. "I do protest to you once more that I will oppose to the utmost the setting up of Charles Stuart, a single person, or a House of Peers. What is it that I have done in bringing these members into the House to justify your distrust? If others have cut off the head of Charles, and that just justly; were not they the persons who conducted him thither?" And to give support to his gross duplicity he ordered the doors of the House of Lords to be shut against the peers who had in previous times often supported Parliament against the king, and who were anxious to resume their sittings. Major Miller, the same officer who had conducted the excluded members to the House of Commons, roughly thrust back the peers, informing them that they could not enter.
It was of little consequence to the monarchical reaction whether the peers were in a position to take part in it. In reopening to the Presbyterians the House of Commons Monk struck a decisive blow. The Republic was beaten. They had desired to reform the monarchy, not to destroy it; and they returned to power resolved to seek shelter in the only port which could restore peace to the country. The king was not yet on his throne; but the Republic had now neither arms nor ramparts wherewith to bar his passage.
The renewed Parliament soon gave the measure of its sentiments and intentions. Monk was appointed commander of all the land forces and Montague placed at the head of the fleet, a new Council of State invested with powers of the most extensive kind for keeping order, the Covenant posted up in all the churches, and a considerable loan effected in the city, which hastened to subscribe. The Royalists who had been kept in prison were everywhere set at liberty. Under the standard of the Republic still floating in the air the monarchy was visibly arising. Henceforth masters in the House of Commons, the royalist Presbyterians everywhere regained power.
In the presence of this reaction, which he had foreseen, Monk remained silent and reserved, without attempting yet to expedite or follow the movement which he did not repress, being solely occupied with the army, which was fretful and disturbed even under his command. He alone could control it; and he alone knew how little was his influence over all those officers and soldiers who were thinking of the future, and were jealous of the present authority of Parliament, and looked back with regret to their paramount influence under the name of the Commonwealth. Monk made many changes of officers. He retained his power with a stronger and a stronger hand, while still feeling it on the point of deserting him.
It was on the eve of the day when Parliament was at length to pronounce its own dissolution. In spite of all the agitations and manœuvres of the Republicans, both civil and military, the House now expiring had erased from its registers the oath of abjuration of Charles Stuart and the monarchy. A working painter, accompanied by some soldiers, and carrying a ladder in his hand, approached a wall in the city near the Royal Exchange, where eleven years before an inscription in Latin had been placed, Exit Tyrannus, regum ultimus, anno libertatis Angliæ restitutæ primo, annoque Domini 1648. The workman effaced the inscription, and threw his cap into the air, exclaiming, "God bless King Charles II.!" The crowd joined its acclamations, and bonfires were lighted on the spot.
It was the 16th of March: Parliament was discussing the form of the writs of election. "In the name of the king," said Prynne. "This Parliament has been in law dissolved since the death of the king his father. King Charles II. alone can summon another." The question was evaded; and the writs were despatched in the name of the Trustees of the Liberties of England. Scott proposed that in the powers accorded to the Council of State to treat with foreign governments, one exception should be made, namely, that they should not send any agent to Charles Stuart. A great tumult arose in the chamber. "I move," exclaimed Mr. Crewe, an ardent Presbyterian, "that, before separating, we shall testify that we have not steeped our hands nor our consciences in the detestable murder of the king, and that we hold that act in horror!" The voice of Scott was heard in the midst of the confusion: "Although to-day I know not where I may shelter my head, I acknowledge that I took part in that affair, not only with my hand but with my heart, and I wish for no greater honor in this world than to have this inscription written on my tomb: 'Here lies a man who, with both hand and heart, did approve the execution of Charles I., King of England.'"
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Effacing The Inscriptions.
Cries of reprobation stifled his words, and he left the House with some of his friends, who were as untamable as himself. The Dissolution Bill was adopted and the Long Parliament, which, in spite of its many errors and disasters, was destined to occupy so great a place in the history of its country, hastened to separate amidst irreverent exhibitions of public delight. The turn of Monk had come.
Of this he was aware, notwithstanding his habitual reserve and prudence, and he consented at length to receive Sir John Grenville, who was the bearer of the letter from the king to the general, which he had refused to hand to the agents whom the latter had sent. "I thank your excellency," said Grenville, "for giving me the occasion to discharge myself of a trust of the utmost importance for you and for the whole kingdom, which I have long had in my hands." He tendered to Monk the letter of the king. The latter took a step backwards without taking the letter. "Have you considered well the danger you are running by daring to propose to me such a business?" he asked. "Yes," replied Grenville, "I have well considered it: nothing shall prevent my obeying the king. Besides, your excellency cannot have forgotten the message that you received in Scotland by the hands of my brother." Without answering a word, and suddenly changing his manner, Monk offered his hand to Grenville, embraced him in a friendly manner, and slowly read the letter. "I hope," he said, "that the king will pardon me the past, both as to actions and words, for my heart has always been faithful to him. I am ready not only to obey his Majesty, but to devote to his service my life and fortune." And he continued for some minutes to converse with Grenville on the difficulties and perils of the situation, which were still great, pointing out what, in his opinion, the king ought to do to surmount them. Grenville asked him if he would not write all this to the king, sending his letter by a man who was devoted to him. "No," said Monk, "the best security is secrecy." When Grenville returned on the morrow to receive his written instructions, the general read them over to him twice. "You are quite sure you will remember all that?" he asked. "Yes," replied Grenville. Monk threw the paper into the fire. "Turn this over well in your memory on the road. Be careful not to write it," he continued; "say nothing to any one except to the king himself, and do not return without putting the king out of Flanders."
In effect one of the counsels of Monk to the king was to leave Spanish territory and establish himself at Breda. He asked for a general amnesty, excepting only two or three persons; the ratification of the sales of confiscated property, whatever might have been the cause, and liberty of conscience for all the king's subjects. Grenville was instructed to make the most magnificent offers both for him and his friends. In spite of his avarice, Monk had too much sense not to know that a man paid in advance loses his value. "No," said he, "I will not bind the king to me for any reward. Now I am able to serve him, I prefer his service to his promises. Ask nothing, therefore, of him either for me or my friends."
Great was the delight of Charles when Grenville arrived at his court in Brussels. Some of the recommendations of Monk nevertheless embarrassed him; and his most intimate friends, who alone were made acquainted with the counsels of Monk, advised him to begin by quitting Brussels. From Breda they could reply to Monk. Till then it behooved them to preserve the most absolute secrecy.
The king laughed in his sleeve on receiving the very different proposals which soon arrived from London. The Presbyterian leaders offered Charles to re-establish him on his throne, provided he would accept the conditions that the Long Parliament, then under the predominant influence of their party, had offered to King Charles I. in the Isle of Wight. These were the relinquishment for twenty years to Parliament of the command of the forces on land and sea, the acknowledgment of the lawfulness of the war that they had waged against Charles I., the abrogation of the letters patent conferring peerages which he had granted since he left London, and, finally, the confirmation of the right of the Commons to adjourn to the time and place which should please them. Strange propositions these for the restoration of the monarchy. Their authors, however, were sincere in their intentions, and they informed the king that he could not hope for anything more favorable, so powerful still was the spirit of opposition among the people. They added that they had great difficulty in dissuading Monk from being much more exacting; and they entreated the king to accept their offers without delay, for hesitation might cost him the last chance of recovering his crown.
A few meaningless words were the only reply given to the offers of the Presbyterians, who persevered not the less in their work. "Little do they think in England," said the king to Grenville, "that General Monk and I are on so good terms. I myself should have found it difficult to believe it if you had not yourself brought me such good and secret intelligence from the general. My restoration without conditions! This exceeds all that we could hope here, and all that our friends in England expected, except you." He received at the same time, with an easy amiability, the offers of service and the homage which came to him on all sides from the great nobles who had supported the cause of the Long Parliament without desiring the Republic or the rule of Cromwell, and whom neither Cromwell nor the Republic had favored. With these there came like missives from Cromwellians themselves—Thurloe at their head; and finally. Royalists who had served the Commonwealth—Admiral Montague and Lord Broghill. Foreign courts began to testify consideration for the exiled monarch; Bordeaux approached Monk with discreet compliments in the name of the cardinal: the Spaniards, perceiving King Charles's return of fortune, would have liked to keep him in their hands, and the king had some difficulty in escaping from Brussels to repair to Breda, where he was soon joined by Hyde, his most faithful as well as his ablest adviser, against whom, however, all the manœuvres of the Presbyterians were directed, who could not forgive him for his attachment to the Church of England.
Scarcely was Charles established on the soil of the Netherlands, when an unexpected piece of news threw him into the greatest alarm. Lambert, imprisoned in the Tower since the middle of March on the charge of fomenting a military conspiracy, had escaped from his dungeon on the 16th of April by the connivance of certain republican leaders. They traversed the counties of Warwick and Northampton at the head of some insurgent squadrons in the name of the Commonwealth, summoning to their standard all malcontents. Certain corps already showed signs of wavering. No one yet could estimate the proportions which this movement might assume.
For a moment Monk had entertained the idea of marching against Lambert; but he judged his presence in London more necessary. He sent for Colonel Ingoldsby, and informing him what troops would be available, "Be at Northampton three days hence," he said, "and pursue Lambert till you overtake him." Ingoldsby obeyed. On the 22d of April (Easter Sunday) he found himself face to face with the enemy. A little watercourse separated the two armies. There was a parley. Lambert proposed to restore Richard Cromwell. "It is you who overthrew him, and now you would raise him again," said Ingoldsby. "My orders are not to discuss, but to fight you." One of Lambert's squadrons approached the enemy's line. Ingoldsby advanced alone to meet it, conversing in a friendly way with the soldiers. "Now to end the business," said Ingoldsby; and he marched forward, giving the order to his troops not to fire till they were close to the enemy. Lambert's cavalry dropped their pistols without firing. Ingoldsby urged on his horse towards the general. "You are my prisoner," he cried. Lambert put spurs to his horse. Ingoldsby pursued him: he was well mounted, and overtook the fugitive. Lambert surrendered, irretrievably beaten and still more humiliated. On the 24th of April he returned to the Tower.
It was the last expiring effort of the Republic; the elections gave the death-blow. A few of the old leaders, respected or influential in their counties or their boroughs—Ludlow, Scott, Robinson, Hutchinson—alone succeeded in getting re-elected, and these with difficulty. Even an express recommendation from Monk did not support at Bridgenorth the candidature of Thurloe. Royalists of every shade, old and new, Presbyterians or Cavaliers, carried the elections in all directions. The Cavaliers were the most numerous, but they were still prudent and unassuming. The Presbyterians chose one of their number, Grimstone, for Speaker of the new House. The peers, a small number of whom had assembled in their House, were presided over by Lord Manchester, a moderate Presbyterian. Scarcely had the two Houses assembled, when they passed a vote of thanks to Monk; the Lords decreed him a statue. The Commons extended their gratitude even to Ingoldsby, who had suppressed the insurrection of Lambert. Nothing less than the influence of Monk was certainly required to determine so royalist a House to forget the regicide in order thus to honor in Ingoldsby the obedience and courage of the soldier.
The royalist reaction burst forth on all sides with violence and disorder. The Cavaliers in certain parts took possession again of the estates that had been taken from them. They even laid hand on some which had never been theirs. The widow of Cromwell, Lady Elizabeth, fled from London, leaving behind her, it was asserted, concealed goods and jewels which she had taken from the royal palaces. Terror spread among the revolutionary party; the Royalists everywhere rushed to enjoy their triumph. The change of masters was signalized by redoubled anarchy throughout the country.