Chapter XXIX.

The Restoration Of The Stuarts (1659-1660).

The downfall of the Protector was accomplished, although he still

resided at Whitehall. The question was that of founding a

government. The leaders of the army looked with little favor upon

the Republic; they had strongly supported and participated in the

tyranny of Cromwell, and they dreaded the increasing progress of

the Royalists; it was against them that they had allied

themselves with the old Republican leaders in order to submit to

their yoke a phantom Protector. It was also in opposition to them

that they resolved to exterminate all that remained of the

Republic, the remnants of the Long Parliament expelled by

Cromwell in April, 1653.

It was a mere handful of men, the majority already old and

wearied by political struggles, who thus assembled together on

the 7th of May, 1659, and returned to that place of assemblage

from which they had been so roughly ejected; forty-two members

only were there, their former speaker, Lenthall, at their head.

The latter had for a long time hesitated, wishing to preserve

what he already called his peerage in the new House of Lords of

Cromwell; but when the line of members passed near his door, he

joined them, being unable to resist the desire to see once more

the hall of the Long Parliament. The general officers awaited

them at the door, congratulating them as they passed in, and

promising to live and die with them.

{294}

Scarcely had they been restored and placed once more in

possession of the government by the leaders of the army, when the

Republicans of the Long Parliament found themselves confronted

with legal difficulties. The Presbyterians, excluded from the

House of Commons in 1648, claimed their seats; fourteen of them

presented themselves at the door in the name of their companions

in misfortune: there were two hundred and thirteen of them. The

Republicans peremptorily repelled them. Prynne contrived to slip

into the Hall, and he remained imperturbably in his place,

notwithstanding the insults of Haslerig and Vane. The sitting was

declared closed. Prynne was the last to leave; but when he

returned in the evening every outlet was guarded, and placards

posted up in all parts confirmed the exclusion already pronounced

against all members who had been strangers since 1648 to the

sittings of the Long Parliament. "A worse and more oppressive war

against the Commons," said Prynne, "than was ever waged against

them by the beheaded king and the Cavaliers."

Weak in appearance and in reality, the Republican chiefs were

courageous and sincere, profoundly devoted to their cause, and

irrevocably involved in its fate. They hastened to strike another

blow at the shadow of the Protectorate, which was still retained

by Cromwell. Haslerig intimated to him orders to quit Whitehall.

Richard received the message and the messenger with scornful

haughtiness. He lent ear to the solicitations of the Cavaliers,

who were secretly assiduous in their attentions to him as well as

to his brother Henry, who was still Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland

and powerful in the midst of his army.

{295}

The Protector was moreover burdened with debts. ... Whitehall

afforded him a place of refuge against his creditors. It was only

six weeks later, when Parliament guaranteed him against any

proceedings, that Richard at length consented to abandon the

remains of his greatness. "My past conduct," he wrote to

Parliament, "has afforded evidence, I think, of my submission to

the will of God, and also of how far I esteem the peace of my

country beyond my own interests. ... Counting, like all other

men, upon the protection of the present government, I consider

myself bound to live quietly under its laws, and to do whatever

depends on me in order that the persons upon whom I may have some

influence may do likewise." Parliament took charge of all his

debts, and granted, on the 16th of July, to "Richard Cromwell,

eldest son of the late Lord General Cromwell," a yearly income of

£10,000 sterling. For this price Richard consented to quit

Whitehall and Hampton Court. As his personal effects were being

carried away, he specially recommended to his attendants two old

trunks lying in his apartment. One of his friends asked him what

they contained. "Nothing less," said Richard, "than the life and

fortune of all the good people of England." The two cases were

full of the addresses which, on his accession, had come to him

from all parts, placing at his disposal the fortune and the life

of the whole nation, of which his government, they affirmed, was

the salvation.

{296}

The retirement of Henry Cromwell was less disputed, if not less

bitter; he even preserved his dignity in the matter. Being

recalled to England, on the 7th of June, by Parliament, which had

decided that Ireland should be governed by five commissioners, he

sent his formal resignation on the 15th of June. "I adhere," he

said, "to the present government, although I cannot promise it

the devotion which others may honestly bring to it. ... I am not

fitted to serve you in the construction of the edifice which you

wish to raise upon a new basis. But, inasmuch as I can lend

myself to nothing which should detract in any degree from the

merit and glory of my father, I thank the Lord who has preserved

me from succumbing to a temptation with which I have often been

beset, that of deserting the cause for which my father lived and

died."

The Royalists were in consternation; they had counted upon the

support of Henry Cromwell. "Richard has retired into Hampshire,"

Hyde was informed by letter, "having in his purse no money, and

out of his purse no friends. Henry is at the residence of his

father-in-law, in Cambridgeshire. Claypole, who is really very

poor, is in hiding in consequence of his debts, and causes it to

be reported that he is in France. The fortune of the old woman is

much below what was believed, and Falconbridge is not at all

proud of the union." Such a fall for the Cromwells, and such a

mistake on the part of the Royalists was a double victory for

Parliament.

It soon gained a more decided success. Monk declared himself in

its favor. Despising anarchy like an old soldier, and dreading it

for his own fortune as well as for his country, Monk always

rallied, without devoting himself to it, around the power which,

for the moment, appeared to him the best able to govern. After

the expulsion of the Long Parliament he had supported and served

Cromwell.

[Image]

Portrait Of Monk.

{297}

When Richard Cromwell was overthrown he decided for the same

reasons, and within the same limits, to support the Long

Parliament when it was recalled. It was a great joy for London;

the House hastened to manifest to Monk its satisfaction in the

matter, but when it desired to remove some officers from the army

in Scotland, Monk immediately wrote to the speaker, "He heard it

said that the House intended to make some modifications in his

list of officers; it certainly did not know the officers in

person, or their qualities or their shortcomings; it judged of

them according to instructions which others furnished to it; he

thought himself, he, the general, as worthy of being believed as

anybody; he assured the House that the officers who had been

denounced to it were honest and staunch men, and he would answer

for their fidelity as well as for their good conduct." The House

took alarm; it drew back; the officers who had been dismissed

remained at their posts and were not replaced. Monk thus grew in

importance in England as in Scotland, in Parliament as in the

army. While distrusting him, the House sought to conciliate him

as a necessary support, and he served it without belonging to it.

A mutual understanding appeared now to reign at home between

Parliament and the army. Abroad, the Republic was engaged in a

prudent and sensible policy which was already bearing its fruits.

After some hesitation, Mazarin had recognized the Republic, and

Lockhart, who continued its ambassador at the court of France,

accompanied the cardinal to Fontarabia, where peace with Spain

was in course of negotiation. He on the other hand was engaged in

negotiating for a cessation of hostilities between Spain and

England.

{298}

The war still continued between Sweden and Denmark. England had

hitherto supported Sweden, and Holland had remained faithful to

Denmark. The plenipotentiaries of the Republic, commissioned to

settle the question of the Baltic, which disturbed the peace of

the North, the commerce of England, and the harmony of the

Protestant States, having failed to overcome the obstinacy of the

King of Sweden, it was soon perceived that England had changed

its policy. "I foresee, by the language of Mr. Downing," wrote

John De Witt to his ambassador in London, "that England is

determined to vigorously prosecute the war with Sweden, if his

Majesty continues to refuse to make peace on the proposed

conditions. I hope that God will grant a happy ending to all

this." These were real successes for the Republic, and obtained

by the fidelity of its chiefs to their cause, and by their

intelligent activity in the exercise of their power; but these

successes and merits were in vain. The Republicans remained an

isolated coterie, repugnant to the nation, which believed neither

in their right nor in the permanence of their influence. The most

eminent of its chiefs, Vane himself, preserved for the Republic a

devotion devoid of hope. "The king," he said, "will one day or

other take the crown again; the nation is disgusted with every

other government."

{299}

The Royalists had hoped for a more rapid success, and a more

prompt realization of the painful forebodings of Vane. Remaining

inactive hitherto, in the expectation of a conflict between

Parliament and the army, they had counted upon the revolt of

Monk; then upon that of Henry Cromwell; then upon that of

Lockhart; and their expectant policy exasperated the new

Royalists who every day became more numerous. "It is the most

passive and indifferent of the parties," said Mordaunt, one of

the best recruits whom King Charles had made; "I endeavor with a

heavy heart to struggle against this tide of baseness which

invades us, and to shake off this fatal lethargy." Mordaunt did

himself and his friends an injustice; their efforts did not

remain unproductive. A general insurrection was resolved upon in

the eastern, midland, and western counties. The old or new

Royalists, Cavaliers, and Presbyterians, prepared for it with

ardor. The king placed himself at the disposition of his

partisans, being quite ready to land at their call at the place

which should be chosen for him. He even offered to Admiral

Montague, if he would declare himself for him, to proceed

immediately aboard his vessel, and make sail with him for

England.

Parliament was upon its guard. Sir Charles Willis continued to

inform Thurloe of what was going forward among the Royalists, as

he had but recently served Cromwell. The Royalists betrayed

themselves by their foolish confidence. The organization of the

militia was urged forward; six new regiments were formed in the

city. The three regiments which had served in France were

recalled. The strictest supervision was everywhere exercised over

the Royalists; a certain number of them were arrested; many great

noblemen hesitated. The king was at Calais, where the Duke of

York soon arrived; but the prince was the bearer of sad tidings;

irresolution had borne its fruits; the insurrection was deferred;

nobody dared any longer urge the king to proceed to England.

{300}

In some place in Cheshire, a plain Presbyterian gentleman, Sir

George Booth, more bold than the other conspirators, or being

warned later of the postponement, raised the royal standard and

organized the struggle against the Republic. The king did not

lose courage. The Prince of Condé offered him troops, and even

spoke of accompanying him to England. Turenne, on the other hand,

offered him his own regiment of infantry, twelve hundred men

strong, and the Scotch men-at-arms, with provisions and

ammunition. The Duke of Bouillon, a nephew of Turenne, conducted

the first detachment to Boulogne himself, and was preparing to

embark with the Duke of York, when it was learnt that Sir George

Booth had been defeated by Lambert, that his friends were

dispersed or captured, and that the Royalist insurrection,

annihilated by one single blow in the only part in which it had

been attempted, no longer offered to the king and his allies any

support.

Sir George Booth, who had taken up arms on August 1st in

Cheshire, might in effect have conceived some hopes; during the

first days he had seen numerous volunteers hasten to place

themselves under his banner, among others the Earl of Derby, son

of him who had perished upon the scaffold after the battle of

Worcester. The king had been proclaimed in several towns, and the

insurgents were occupying Chester, when Lambert marched against

them with six thousand men. Some hesitation had prevailed as to

entrusting the forces of Parliament to him, but he was accounted

able and fortunate. On August 6th he confronted Booth, who

attempted to enter into negotiations with him. Lambert repelled

all advances, vigorously urged forward the attack, and defeated

almost without any fighting the brave but inexperienced men who

held the city.

{301}

Chester and Liverpool returned once more into the power of

Parliament. The Earl of Derby and Sir George Booth were arrested

and conducted to the Tower. The prisons of London were filled

with Royalists. It was found necessary to hire a portion of the

buildings of the archbishop's palace at Lambeth to lodge the

prisoners in. Parliament was triumphant, and the confiscations of

the property of the insurgents went to fill its coffers; but it

did not forget the perils of its situation, and it treated the

vanquished with leniency. Sir John Grenville and several others

were set at liberty after a simple examination. The king, who was

much grieved, set out for the Pyrenees, in order to seek in

Mazarin and Don Luis de Haro, who were there negotiating for a

reconciliation between the two crowns, some hope of recovering

his own. He could not promise himself any great success in this

attempt. The polite attentions of Don Luis de Haro were as empty

as they were assiduous, and Mazarin bestowed great consideration

upon Lockhart, who was still the ambassador of the Republic. "We

see how the Spaniards treat you," Hyde was told in a letter from

England, "that the French betray you, and that the Dutch have

already declared themselves against you." "If our friends could

stand upon their legs," said Ormond, who had joined the king in

Spain, "until the cardinal should think that it would depend upon

him to cause the balance to turn and to have all the honor of it,

he would then probably involve France in our cause.

{302}

But in order that he should have that conviction, it would be

necessary that his judgment, which is very acute, should count

almost upon the infallibility of success, and meanwhile he will

live on good terms, no matter by what means, with the Republic

and with its very able minister, Lockhart, for whom he has a very

great regard." Charles was not successful in obtaining an

audience with the cardinal.

Meanwhile Lambert did not hasten to return to London. Parliament

had solemnly testified its gratitude by sending him a jewel of

great value; but the victorious general marched through the

country, sounding the population as to their inclination, and

even paying attentions to the vanquished Royalists. It was soon

learnt that a petition, signed by his officers, had arrived in

London. Parliament demanded it from Fleetwood, who brought it the

same evening. It was a renewal of the wishes already expressed a

week after the return of Parliament by the council-general of the

army. The desire was that Fleetwood should become

general-in-chief, and that Lambert should be his major-general.

The House rejected the petition, simply commissioning Fleetwood

to reprimand the officers; but the challenge was thrown down, the

struggle had begun, and even in the midst of Parliament the army

found allies. Vane, who was more pliant than Haslerig, and was

determined to save the Republic at any price, had entered into

relations with the officers and lent them his support. This noble

but visionary character, carried away by his political and

religious passions, had already sacrificed the people to the

sectaries. He allowed himself in this instance to be impelled to

sacrifice Parliament to the soldiers, always obtaining his

support from lower down as his cause declined, and seeking his

own safety in the abandonment of his principles and of his

friends.

[Image]

Lambert.

{303}

The council of officers assembled together by Fleetwood did not

insist upon the petition of the troops of Lambert, but he

prepared another, an offensive compound of hypocrisy and

arrogance. On the 5th of October, Desborough, accompanied by some

of his comrades, carried the address to the bar of Parliament.

The House, forewarned, received the petition without any sign of

dissatisfaction, and promised to occupy itself with its

consideration on the following Saturday, the 8th of October. At

the approach of the crisis, and under the attentive eyes of the

country, which was opposed to the two revolutionary factions, all

felt unnerved, none would provoke the rupture nor accept the

responsibility of it. On the morning of the 12th of October, the

discussion had already begun when the House learnt that the

petition of the officers was circulating in the army, accompanied

by a letter of Lambert, Desborough, and seven other generals,

asking for the support of the troops. Great indignation was

aroused; Lambert and the other signitaries of the letters were

immediately dismissed from their posts. Fleetwood, who was

compromised, though he had not signed, lost the command-in-chief

of the army, which was entrusted to seven commissioners, he being

one of their number. Haslerig encamped around Parliament those

regiments which were relied upon, and the troops, cantoned in the

environs of London, were summoned in great haste. On the 13th of

October, in the morning, Westminster and its neighborhood

presented on all sides the aspect of a camp.

{304}

Lambert meanwhile had arrived, notwithstanding a missive which he

had received during the night: "Place yourself in safety

to-morrow," he was told, "otherwise your head is in peril."

Haslerig had conceived the project of causing him to be shot upon

the spot. The soldier stole a march upon the member of

Parliament; at the head of his own regiment of infantry he

overran the streets, caused those thoroughfares by which the

members could repair to their posts to be barred, cut off all

communication with the city, and marched upon Westminster.

Arriving near the palace, he found himself face to face with

Colonel Morley, who held a pistol in his hand. "I will fire upon

you if you move one step farther," said the latter. "Colonel,"

replied Lambert, "I would go there if I pleased; but I will take

another way," and he turned off, entering at the same time with

Colonel Moss upon a discussion which soon became a parley. The

guards of Parliament had just passed by Lambert, when the coach

of Speaker Lenthall was arrested by a detachment. Lenthall

persisted in his determination to proceed; the soldiers laughed,

proposing to take him to Fleetwood, who would furnish him with

explanations. "If Lieutenant-general Fleetwood has anything to

say to me," replied Lenthall, "he can come and say it to me at my

house," and he returned there unmolested.

Meanwhile matters did not progress; the public were undecided;

the streets were filled with indifferent passers-by who went as

usual about their business; the soldiers belonging to the two

parties chatted together and appeared determined not to come to

blows.

[Image]

Lambert confronted by Colonel Morley.

{305}

A few members had succeeded in penetrating into the House of

Parliament by way of the Thames; they were summoned to the

Council of State, which had assembled. Lambert and Desborough

repaired thither. A negotiation was entered into. Colonel

Sydenham justified the act of the army. "Providence makes it a

necessity for us," he said; "it is our last remedy." Bradshaw,

who was old and in bad health, rose, exclaiming, "It is a

detestable act, and one which I abhor. Being about to appear

before God, I cannot bear to hear His name blasphemed." He

quitted the council, to die a fortnight afterwards, despondent

but indomitable. The parleying still continued; necessity weighed

upon all; they could neither fight nor become reconciled.

Parliament at length yielded; it was agreed that it should cease

to sit, and that the council of officers should undertake to

preserve the public peace until the convocation of a new

Parliament. The troops withdrew into their quarters, and, owing

to the weakness on both sides, the Long Parliament quietly

quitted that hall from which Cromwell, six years before, had

driven them forth amid much commotion. Lambert remained master of

the battlefield without having won the victory.

This was the death-blow of the Republican party, struck by its

own hand. The Royalists, vanquished and inactive, but filled with

ardor and hope, contemplated the death-throes of their enemies

with a joy mixed with anxiety. In the midst of these internal

struggles of the rivalry of Fleetwood and Lambert, Haslerig and

Vane, all eyes were turned frequently towards Monk, who remained

quiet in Scotland, at the head of his army. Conciliated and

sought after by the leaders of the most opposite parties, he

received all instructions, repelled no advances, displayed

uniform good feeling while remaining taciturn, and led all to

hope to secure him without surrendering to any.

{306}

He had neither principles, nor passions, nor any great political

ambition; but he was earnest and shrewd, and would only support a

strong power, which appeared to him equal to its task, and which

inspired in him some confidence in its duration. Since the death

of Cromwell, he had been biding his time.

At the bottom of his heart, by natural instinct as well as by

family tradition, Monk was a Royalist. At the time of the great

insurrection of the Cavaliers, the king himself had written to

Monk, soliciting his services, and the general appeared to have

taken his side. He had already given orders to make sure of

Edinburgh and Leith, when a return of his customary prudence

arrested him. "Gentlemen," he said, to the few persons who were

in possession of his secret, "it will do us no great harm to

await the news of to-morrow's post. Lambert has marched against

Booth; he is now grappling with him; we shall then know whether

Booth really has the forces which are attributed to him, and

whether it is probable that our succor makes success certain." On

the morrow it was learned that Booth had been defeated, and that

the Royalist insurrection had been ruined. Republican officers

abounded at the residence of the general, rejoicing, and loudly

congratulating themselves on the success of Lambert. "I wish,"

said Monk, "that Parliament would pass a law declaring that

whoever should only speak of re-establishing Charles Stuart,

shall be hanged." The conversation became animated; the Church

was attacked as well as the Stuarts.

{307}

"We shall have neither peace nor repose," said a certain Captain

Poole, "as long as there is a parish priest and a steeple." Monk

rose, being at length angry. "Very fine, captain; if you or your

party are still inclined to demolish, I will also demolish, on my

side." He seldom lost his temper, and his authority was

respected; his officers held their peace and retired. While the

confidants of the generals were congratulating themselves upon

his prudence, which had saved them from great danger, Price, his

chaplain, asked, "What would you have done, however, general, if

the news of the defeat of Booth had only arrived after our

project had been revealed?" "I would have secured Edinburgh

Castle and the citadel of Leith," replied Monk. "Some officers

and many soldiers would have followed me, and I should have

raised all Scotland in insurrection."

The reply was as judicious as it was bold, for Monk could rely

upon his army; but he also knew that the good disposition of the

masses is of service only when it is invoked opportunely and

under favorable circumstances. He was struck with the danger

which he had incurred, and he resolved upon the most complete

inaction. His brother Nicholas, the bearer of verbal messages

between him and his cousin, Sir John Grenville, had not been as

discreet as might have been desired; the general reprimanded him

sharply, declaring to him that if ever the affair should be

discovered by his act or by Grenville, he would contrive to ruin

them both, rather than allow himself to be ruined by them.

{308}

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?

{309}

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.

{310}

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."

{311}

"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."

{312}

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."

{313}

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."

{314}

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.

{315}

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.

{316}

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.

{317}

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.

{318}

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.

{319}

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.

{320}

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."

{321}

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.

{322}

"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.

{323}

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."

{324}

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.

{325}

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.

{326}

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.

{327}

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.

{328}

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.'"

[Image]

Effacing The Inscriptions.

{329}

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."

{330}

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."

{331}

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.

{332}

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.

{333}

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.

{334}

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.

{335}

On the 27th of April Sir John Grenville presented himself at the

door of the Council of State, requesting leave to speak with the

Lord-general. Monk came out from the house; Grenville placed in

his hand a packet sealed with the king's arms. Monk seemed

surprised. The messenger was desired to enter. The president

inquired from whom he had received these letters. "The king, my

master," he answered, "gave them to me with his own hand." It was

determined that they should be handed to Parliament, that alone

had the right to receive them. Some one proposed to place

Grenville meanwhile under arrest. "I have not seen Sir John

Grenville for some years," said Monk, "but he is my near kinsman,

and I will answer for his presenting himself before the House."

Grenville retired at liberty.

Three days later, on the 1st of May, he was introduced to the

House of Commons, and he handed to the Speaker a letter from the

king, dated from Breda, "in the twelfth year of our reign." As

soon as Grenville had retired, Grimstone, standing and uncovered,

read aloud the king's letter. The House listened also standing

and uncovered. In the House of Lords the president rose, and went

to meet Grenville, accompanied by forty-one peers who were then

present; and the messenger, recalled shortly afterwards into the

House, received the thanks of the assembly.

The king's letters, written by Hyde, were elegant and simple.

They promised a general amnesty and liberty of conscience, with

only such exceptions or limits as Parliament should think well to

assign. All questions of delicacy were in like manner referred to

Parliament. The king preserved his freedom of action under the

pretext of his responsibility.

{336}

Similar declarations addressed to the city, the army, and the

fleet, were received with acclamations. Admiral Montague

despatched on the morrow a message to the king. "I rejoice," he

said, "that the king has no need of aid from foreign powers. He

will find a sufficient stay in the affection and loyalty of his

subjects. I covet nothing so much in the world as the honor of

presenting myself before your Majesty, which I hope will not long

be delayed."

The two Houses on their part lost no time, and the Lords declared

on the 3d of May that, in accordance with the fundamental laws of

the realm, the supreme power resided and ought to reside in King,

Lords, and Commons. The House of Commons immediately adopted the

same resolution, and also decided that a gift of £50,000 sterling

should be immediately offered to the king; £10,000 and £5,000

were also voted for his brothers. A jewel valued at £500 sterling

was voted to Grenville, but the treasury was exhausted. It was

necessary to have recourse to the city, which provided at once

for pressing needs. When Grenville arrived at Breda, the bearer

of £30,000 in bills of exchange and specie, the king, overjoyed

at the sight, sent for the Princess of Orange and the Duke of

York, desiring that they should see this gold, so long strange to

their hands, taken out of the portmanteau of the messenger.

The two Houses sent commissioners charged with their answers to

the king; many other deputations preceded or followed them.

Clarges conveyed to Charles II. a letter from Monk; the delegates

from the city and the Presbyterian ministers met at Breda.

Parliament proclaimed the king in the presence of the people at

the gate of Westminster, before Whitehall, and in the city.

{337}

Workmen were busily engaged in repairing all the royal palaces.

"Mistress Monk, with a zeal void of all vanity," wrote Broderick

to Hyde, "is taking care that his Majesty shall be provided with

all the linen he will require, saying frankly that she has not

forgotten her old occupation, and that she is assured that she

will be able to make a saving of one-half in the king's

household."

In the presence of all these facts, what had become of the

intention of the Presbyterians and the political reformers to

treat with the king and secure for the liberties of the people

and themselves strong guarantees? The work of restoration was

accomplished, driven forward by the national feeling: the most

resolute of the moderate party had lent a hand, and were lending

a hand every day, to this spontaneous re-establishment of the

monarchy. The royal declaration of Breda, the assurances of

moderation and respect for old laws, and the promise to settle

all great questions in concert with Parliament, such were the

only guarantees which the restoration of the Stuarts offered to

England.

Above all the numerous civil and religious questions which were

thus about to be discussed, and the fate of which might already

cause anxiety to the faithful friends of liberty, one question

arose which was paramount to all others--a question of life or

death--that of amnesty. It seemed to have been settled. In the

first communication with the king, Monk had expressly advised a

general amnesty, with four exceptions only, and the king appeared

disposed to clemency, but the danger still existed. "We grant a

free and general pardon," said Charles in the Declaration of

Breda, "save and except such persons as shall hereafter be

excepted by act of Parliament."

{338}

And in his letter to the House of Commons: "If there is a crying

sin by reason of which the nation is stained with dishonor, we

doubt not but you will be as forward as ourselves in redeeming

it, and cleansing the nation from that odious crime." On Monday,

the 9th of May, on the first reading of the Amnesty Bill, the

question of the regicides arose. After a violent debate, in which

those of the inculpated persons who were present--Ingoldsby and

Hutchinson--vainly sought to defend themselves, they left the

House, and the Commons resolved that seven exceptions should be

made in the Amnesty Bill. At the same time the arrest was ordered

of all the judges of the High Court, and their property was

placed under sequestration. Others, strangers to the royal

indictment, Thurloe being at their head, were sent to the Tower.

The reaction spread, and became more bitter every day. The

Amnesty Bill remained in suspense, like all those measures which

were destined to settle the great questions opened by the

Declaration of Breda. The promised concessions became doubtful.

The crowd of courtiers increased at the Hague, whither the king

had gone on invitation of the States-General. The favors and good

graces of the king were lavished upon the commissioners of

Parliament; the Presbyterian ministers, though well received,

were put off with vague promises. But, in the midst of the

general joy, a certain amount of distrust on their part

manifested itself, which on the side of the king and his intimate

friends was returned with much haughtiness and reserve. The

country was anxious to receive the king, and Charles was the more

disposed to hasten, because he feared the conditions of the

Presbyterians. Admiral Montague had arrived in sight of the

Hague, in the Bay of Schevelingen, aboard his ship called the

"Naseby"--a sad reminder of the great defeat of King Charles I.

{339}

The king had taken his farewell of the States-General, from whom

he had received the most magnificent hospitality. He recommended

to them his sister, the Princess of Orange, and his nephew,

Prince William, then a child. "I will remember," he said, "all

the effects of your good affection towards them, as if I had

received them in my own person." John de Witt replied in the name

of the States, overflowing with protestations of respect and

friendship. As politic as he was proud, the republican patrician,

who was contending in Holland against the House of Orange, sought

with some solicitude the goodwill of the new ruler of England,

with which country he desired peace, whatever might be the name

and the form of her government. All proper ceremonies having been

accomplished, the king left the Hague on the 23d of May, 1660,

accompanied by a brilliant suite, and stepping aboard the

"Naseby," which he immediately renamed the "Royal Charles," he

set sail for England with his two brothers, the Dukes of York and

Gloucester. On the morning of the 25th he landed at Dover in the

presence of a great multitude, at the head of whom marched Monk,

saluting the king "with such humility," says an eye-witness,

"that he seemed rather to be asking pardon than receiving

thanks." The king embraced him with filial reverence, and was

more anxious to testify his gratitude by presenting him with the

Order of the Garter than to take his advice regarding the

government of the country, or appointments to great offices.

{340}

The general handed to the king a list of persons whom he judged

fitted to compose the privy council. The greater part of the

names suited the views neither of Charles nor of Hyde. They

intimated this to Monk, who made scarcely any opposition,

confining himself to recommending some persons in particular

"whom the king would find it better for his affairs to have

within than without." Charles, confirmed in his opinion of the

obstinacy of Monk, continued his advance towards the capital,

reviewed the army, who, sullen and resigned, were awaiting him on

Blackheath, and at length entered London amidst the ringing of

all the bells, the music of the regiments, the acclamations of an

eager, joyous, and triumphant people.

"I was in the Strand," says an eye-witness. "I beheld this sight,

and I was thankful to God. All this was done without the spilling

of a drop of blood. It was indeed the Lord's will; for since the

return of the Jews from captivity in Babylon, no history, ancient

or modern, has had to record a like restoration." The king

himself expressed his surprise at it with a touch of irony. "It

is assuredly my own fault," he said, "that I did not come back

sooner; for I have not met any one to-day who did not protest

that he always wished for my return."

The restoration was accomplished; but the obstacles which had so

long prevented it had not disappeared. The nation, however,

entirely occupied with its joyful demonstrations, neither saw

them nor were anxious about them. Having set up again the king

and Parliament, they fancied their troubles at an end and their

wishes fulfilled. The people are short-sighted, but their lack of

foresight neither affects the bottom of their hearts nor changes

the course of their destiny.

{341}

The epoch of civil war was passed; that of party struggles and

parliamentary compromises was about to begin. The triumph of the

Protestant religion and the decisive influence of the country in

its own government--such were the objects for which the

Revolutionary party in England had struggled. The English

royalists were to struggle for it still more, and were to find no

repose till they had won their cause.

{342}