CROMWELL'S NEW LIEUTENANT
Monk had hardly time to weary of his inactivity before a new storm
burst in the north. Scotland had taken to herself a covenanted King,
and an invasion was resolved upon by the English Parliament. Cromwell
was recalled from Ireland, and in June, 1650, to the confusion of the
Presbyterian opposition, he was voted to the command of the army. He at
once sent for Monk to assist him in the organisation of his forces, and
promised him a regiment.
The significance of this it is hard to exaggerate. When we remember
how fastidious Cromwell was about the private character of the men he
worked with, it cannot but impress us with the extraordinary sense
he must have had of his obligations to Monk. The highest military
abilities would never have induced him to employ a man who was living
in open contempt of the seventh commandment. It was an offence of
such gravity at that time that it had been recently made capital. Yet
Cromwell was determined his trusty friend should have his reward, and
that in spite of the difficulty of finding him a regiment. The command
of Bright's, which lay at Alnwick, was vacant, but a dangerous spirit
of democracy and autonomy was growing in the army. Bright's had been
one of the victorious regiments at Nantwich. They had to be asked
if they would accept Monk for colonel, and they refused. "We took
him prisoner," they cried, "at Nantwich not long since, and he will
betray us," and ominously enough Lambert, with whom the last great
struggle was to be, was chosen in his stead. From that moment the two
most celebrated of Cromwell's lieutenants were doomed to an incessant
rivalry.
But Cromwell was not to be thwarted. As there was no regiment for his
friend, he made one. At Newcastle lay Sir Arthur Haslerig's renowned
Blue-Coats, and at Berwick was Colonel Fenwick with his newly raised
Northumberland regiment. The field-force which had been voted for
Cromwell was complete, but in his masterful way he drew five companies
from each of these regiments and made up a new one for Monk. Then he
laconically informed the House what he had done, and coolly requested
that the new regiment should be taken on the establishment and the two
weakened garrisons recruited. Like lambs the Government consented, and
so in lawless birth, a reward for service that none dared name, began
the famous Coldstream Guards.
The staff-appointment which Monk held was that of acting
lieutenant-general of the Ordnance. Cromwell would doubtless have
preferred to see him sergeant-major-general--an appointment which in
those days of amateur soldiering it was usually thought necessary to
fill with a soldier of fortune--that as chief of the staff he might
supply the technical shortcomings of the commander-in-chief. It was,
however, already occupied by Lambert, whose training as a lawyer can
hardly have qualified him for the proper discharge of its complex
duties. Indeed more than once, in cases of extreme difficulty, we
shall see that Monk had to take over his work, and thus intensify the
antipathy which marked their relations from the first.
It is impossible here to repeat the oft-told tale of the Dunbar
campaign; which is the more to be regretted as Monk's share in it has
never been done justice to. Cromwell had excellent reasons for not
saying too much about him in despatches; and Hodgson, the other best
known authority, being in Lambert's regiment, studiously keeps in the
background the rival of his idolised colonel. Yet it is certain that no
voice had so much weight with Cromwell as Monk's, and he was consulted
at every point. Up to Dunbar, too, the lion's share of the active
operations fell upon him. The artillery duels by which it was sought to
goad Leslie into an engagement were under his direction, and it was he
who took the castles of Colinton and Redhall during Cromwell's attempt
to turn the Scotch position before Edinburgh.
During the terrible retreat on Dunbar it is hardly too much to say
his consummate technical skill saved the army from destruction. More
dead than alive the remnants of Cromwell's splendid force had reached
Haddington. Sick, shattered, and harassed to death with incessant
marching through the rain and mire, they seemed now an easy prey.
About midnight an attack on the rear-guard had been repulsed, but
the position was none the less desperate. Leslie was at their heels
bent on destroying them before they could reach their ships. He was
out-marching them to the right on a line parallel to their own, and
it was certain that with the first glimpse of daylight he would be
upon them. Yet it seemed impossible to do anything. A Scotch mist was
driving across them and the darkness was absolutely impenetrable. As
they stood in the ranks the soldiers could hardly see their right
and left hand files. Yet Monk undertook to draw the army up in line
of battle fronting to its true right. It was Lambert's duty as
major-general; and it must have been a rough blow to his vanity that
his rival was not only allowed to undertake a task for which his own
experience was inadequate, but that he succeeded in what seemed an
impossibility. For succeed he did. By feeling or instinct he set about
the work, of which we can now have little conception. Complicated
mathematical calculations were involved; foot had to be mingled with
horse, and pikemen with musketeers. But all this was child's play to
Monk. The dismal morning broke, and there Leslie saw facing him a line
of battle, perfect in every distance and resting on Gladsmuir and
Haddington, with a swollen tributary of the Tyne to protect its front.
Without hesitation the Scotch general declined the action, and hurried
on to secure Cockburnspath and cut off Cromwell from Berwick.
We must pass on to the evening of September 2nd. In Dunbar the
spiritless supper at the headquarters' mess was over and Cromwell was
walking with Lambert hoping against hope for a chance of escape. But
the position was unchanged. There was still the swollen Brock roaring
along its impassable channel in heavy spate from the right to where it
joined the sea on the extreme left: there was the narrow stretch of
meadow beyond; and then the hills, where dimly in the gathering gloom
the Scottish host lay out and penned them in past hope. Suddenly there
was a movement. The Scotch were beginning to draw down from the hills,
the horse on their right flank were taking ground towards the sea. It
was clear Leslie meant to attack on the morrow where on the English
left the Berwick road crossed the Brock. The manoeuvre was difficult.
In the narrow piece of level ground that was available between the
hills and the burn it would take long to execute, and until it was
complete the right flank of the Scots which had hitherto been secure in
the difficult ground about Cockburnspath was exposed. Leslie must be
attacked when his movement was half-done. It was a desperate chance,
but the only one against his overwhelming numbers.
Lambert agreed with Cromwell's suggestion, but the General would not
decide without Monk's opinion. He was probably busy superintending the
embarkation of his heavy guns, but he was quickly found and received
the idea favourably. All depended on the success of the first attack.
The ford must be seized before Leslie was ready to cross, and then the
Scotch line as it lay between the hills and the burn taking ground to
the right might be rolled up like a scroll. There must be no thought of
repulse; he offered to lead the foot in person, and again he was given
the post that Lambert as major-general ought to have filled.
The Council of War was assembled at once, and Monk demonstrated to the
colonels the practicability of Cromwell's idea. The attack was decided
on, and the first glimmer of dawn saw Monk standing beside the burn,
half-pike in hand, at the head of his regiment of foot.[6] All was
ready to begin, but Lambert, who was to lead the attack at the head of
the horse, was away, to Cromwell's annoyance, worrying about Monk's
guns with which he had suggested a feint should be made upon the Scots'
left. Valuable time was lost, but at last he came, and the horse dashed
across the ford followed by Monk in support. A desperate hand-to-hand
fight ensued. For an hour the thing hung in a balance. The flower of
the Scotch regiments was there, and the resistance they offered was
worthy of their reputation. But regiment after regiment poured over
from the Dunbar side, ever inclining to the left till the Scotch right
was overlapped. All this time Monk was fighting desperately at pike's
length with a regiment that would not break. But now as the rout of
the out-flanked regiments exposed it to the horse it had to go with
the rest, and then the day was won. Galled by the guns and small-shot
from across the swollen burn, the Scots' left and centre, incapable of
reaching their enemy, would stand no longer. As the beaten right fell
back upon them, rolling up the line as they came, a panic ensued.
Throwing down their arms they fairly ran, nor stopped till they reached
Edinburgh.
The fall of Edinburgh Castle ended the campaign of 1650. Monk had been
appointed governor of the city, and with the duties of his office and
the preparations for the next campaign he was occupied during the
winter. By February, however, in the following year, he was at active
work again. Tantallon Castle was his first care, and by the aid of
the splendid siege-train he had organised he battered the ancient
stronghold of the Douglas into submission in forty-eight hours:
Blackness Castle on the Forth followed in March; and thus by the time
spring had fairly begun the way was cleared for the real object of the
campaign, and Monk's services were rewarded with the substantive rank
in which he had been acting.
Leslie during the winter had reorganised his army, and was occupying
an intrenched position at Torwood, to the north of Falkirk, covering
Stirling. Beyond him the government was being carried on in security
at Perth. The Torwood position was far too strong for a direct attack
to be risked. Every endeavour to turn it or to tempt Leslie to leave
failed, and yet it was imperative that he should be dislodged.
Who suggested the daring manoeuvre by which the end was at last
achieved we do not know. At this time Monk was higher in his
commander's counsels than ever. Brilliant tactician as he was, Cromwell
had hitherto given little evidence of far-sighted strategy. He was
not a trained soldier, and Lambert was only a talented civilian like
himself. Deane had had no scientific training in the continental
school, nor did he join the army till May. Indeed Monk was the
only professional soldier on the staff at the time the manoeuvre
was projected. But if Cromwell was no professional soldier he had
the military instinct too highly developed not to know his own
shortcomings, and to appreciate at its full value the consummate
technical knowledge of his new adviser. The few words that fell blunt
and sure from the taciturn soldier of fortune had more weight in the
Council of War than all the rest together. At any rate we may be sure
the movement was the result of Cromwell's and Monk's reconnaissance
of Leslie's position at Stirling in September, and that it was worked
out by Monk on his return to Edinburgh. For in November a requisition
went up to the Council of State for the flotilla of flat-bottomed boats
which the contemplated operation required.
It was known at the English headquarters that there was a party
about the King who were urging an advance into England. The plan had
much to recommend it, and Cromwell determined to spoil it by forcing
Leslie's hand. A footing was to be secured upon the opposite side
of the Forth, and a blow threatened upon Perth. If Leslie attempted
to quit his intrenchments to parry it he was to be attacked in his
true front, and compelled to reoccupy his position. The English army
was then to be thrown suddenly across the Forth, and a dash on Perth
developed before he could move again. Thus the Torwood position would
be turned, Stirling taken in reverse, and no way would remain of
loosing Cromwell's new hold except to attack him on his own ground, or
by advancing into England to compel him to follow. In either case the
victory was almost a certainty for the Commonwealth.
As early as the middle of April part of the flotilla had arrived, and
Monk had made an attack on Burntisland. He was repulsed. Cromwell's
illness delayed further operations for some time. At the end of June
he recovered. Major-General Harrison was sent with all the force that
could be spared into Cumberland to check the expected inroad of the
Scots, and Cromwell advanced to threaten the position at Torwood. Early
in July he moved westward to Glasgow with the double object of securing
the affections of the people in that quarter and of drawing Leslie's
attention away from the Forth, while the preparations for the descent
on the north bank of the river were completed. On July 17th a small
party landed at North Ferry, rapidly intrenched themselves, and Lambert
followed with a strong division. Cromwell had moved back to his old
position before Torwood, and as though a direct attack were still his
real object, Monk was ordered to storm an outpost.
All was now ripe, and at the end of July the long contemplated
operation was commenced. In the precision with which it was carried out
we may at least see Monk's unerring hand. The success was complete. By
August 3rd Perth was in the possession of the Commonwealth. Leslie was
in full career for the south, and Cromwell and his generals repassing
the Forth in hot pursuit.
Yet some one must be left behind. The centre of interest had suddenly
shifted, but work in plenty remained. Some one must be left in the
post of peril to play Cromwell's part while he was gone; some one who
knew how to strike sharp and hard, and could fix a grip of iron on the
country before the army that was gathering in the Highlands could
replace the one that was gone. Monk was the man, and well he justified
the choice.
The force at his command consisted of but four regiments of horse and
three of foot, in all less than six thousand men. With this he attacked
Stirling, and on the 16th the maiden castle surrendered. For this
service he received the thanks of Parliament, and was voted £500 a year
in Scotch land for ever.
But the work was only commenced. By the capture of Stirling he had
but secured an advanced base from which to operate against the north.
The Committee of Estates, to which Charles had entrusted the kingdom
before he left, was sitting at Dundee, and organising, in concert
with a number of clan-chieftains, a new army for the King. Dundee
then was Monk's real objective. No sooner was Stirling in his hands
than he hurried forward a small flying column to stop the supplies of
the town. Three or four days were spent in disposing of prisoners and
booty at Stirling and in setting things in order there, for the most
precise strategist of to-day could not be more careful about his base
than Monk. Then the general followed with the bulk of the foot and the
siege-train.
Just before reaching Dundee he was joined by a body of cavalry under
two officers, who were destined to play a prominent part in history.
The horse were commanded by Colonel Alured, a daring cavalry leader
with red-hot political opinions of an advanced socialistic type, an
Anabaptist of the Anabaptists. At the head of the dragoons rode a
little fiery man, whom they all adored. It was the famous Colonel
Morgan, a soldier of fortune after Monk's own heart, who knew nothing
of politics and everything of his profession. They had probably served
together the greater part of their lives, and were now at any rate fast
friends with unbounded mutual admiration. There was no one to whom Monk
would rather commit a piece of difficult work than this little dragoon,
and he had arrived in the nick of time.
For Monk, as we have seen, with his advanced ideas of the military
art, the Intelligence Department was his chiefest care. "The eyes of
an army," to use his own expression, he cherished as his own. Spies
as usual had been busy, and now he learned that on his approach the
Government had retired to the Highlands and was sitting at Alyth,
fourteen miles away, at the edge of the hills, where a force was daily
expected to assemble for the relief of Dundee. Monk at once determined
on a surprise so daring that it savours more of romance than the
deliberate expedient of a wary strategist. Morgan was sent for, and he
and Alured were told to take their men, disguised as far as possible
and mixed with Scotch deserters, and attend the enemy's rendezvous.
Late on the night of the 27th they marched, and unmolested reached
Alyth in the first hours of the morning. To avoid suspicion they boldly
marched to the farther side of the town, and there quietly halted as
though they were a party of the expected troops. No one interfered, and
about three o'clock, after a short rest, when sleep was the deepest,
they suddenly broke into the astonished town. Hardly a blow was struck.
Old Leslie, the commander-in-chief, was taken in his bed, and the rest
of the Government shared his fate; and as Monk went forth to direct
his siege-works Alured and Morgan rode into camp with three hundred
noblemen, lairds, and ministers prisoners in their train. At one
stroke Scotland was as it were beheaded. It was a bloodless victory,
as complete almost as the "crowning mercy" at Worcester, now on the
eve of being fought. "Truly," wrote Monk in his despatch to Cromwell,
"it is a very great mercy which the Lord of Hosts hath been pleased to
bestow upon us, observing the time and season. This is the Lord's work,
and therefore He alone ought to have the praise." But he concludes by
asking for Morgan's promotion. That he could so far have departed from
his ordinary style only shows us how great had been the influence of
Cromwell's coercive personality upon him.
Still Dundee did not know the extent of the disaster. The garrison
could not believe that all hope of relief was at an end, and
contemptuously refused Monk's summons. On the third day the batteries
opened. All through the last night of August they thundered, and in the
morning there was a practicable breach. Monk knew well the garrison was
hopelessly demoralised and would be an easy prey, yet he strove to save
bloodshed. Twice again he offered them quarter, and twice again they
refused. Then at last he gave the word for an assault.
The infantry were very weak from sickness, and the storming parties
were strengthened by dismounted troopers and a naval brigade. These
elements were not likely to decrease the heat of the fight, and added
to this the town was known to contain property of immense value. With
incredible fury the breach was carried in one rush. The supports of
horse were through almost as soon as the footmen, and a desperate
struggle ensued in the streets. In a few minutes it was over and the
stormers rushed on wildly through the town hacking down everything in
their way. A number of women, and even some children who were in the
streets, were borne down in the rush. Soon all that resisted were a
party who with the governor had taken refuge in a tower. Preparations
were being made to smoke them out, when they asked and received
quarter. Unhappily, as the governor was being taken before Monk he was
pistolled by a fanatic officer, an outrage which the general seems to
have felt as a blot on his own untarnished reputation as a soldier.
Resistance was now at an end, but Monk seems to have thought it his
duty to give over the town to two days' pillage as a chastisement for
its obstinate refusal of quarter.
The remaining garrisons surrendered on terms in rapid succession,
and the Highland strongholds were one after another reduced by his
officers. He himself took no active part in the operations. The iron
constitution on which he drew so recklessly during his long campaigns
at length gave way, and a few days after the surrender he was laid up
in Dundee with a fever. By January he had sufficiently shaken it off
to be able to meet the new Scotch commissioners who had arrived at
Dalkeith from London to negotiate the Union, but in February he was
compelled to go south for the benefit of his health. It is worthy of
note that he started on the journey in the same coach with Lambert, who
was also on the commission, but before Berwick was passed they agreed
to separate, ostensibly because Monk was too ill to travel fast enough
for his rival.
It is said that at this time there was an idea of sending into France
ten thousand of those matchless troops of whom all Europe was talking,
as was afterwards done under Morgan. For Monk was reserved the
superlative honour of commanding them. But the time was not yet ripe,
and instead of figuring as leader of the finest soldiers in the world,
for so every one then considered them, Monk went quietly down to Bath
to mend his shattered health.