Blake did not hesitate. The wind was blowing into the harbour on the

20th of April, 1657; and trusting to the omnipotent instincts of

courage, he dashed into the harbour at eight o'clock in the morning.

Stayner, who had so lately defeated the Spanish Plate fleet, and

destroyed in it the viceroy of Peru, now led the way in a frigate, and

Blake followed with the larger ships. His fleet altogether amounted

to twenty-five sail. It was received with a hurricane of fire from

the batteries on both sides the harbour and the fleet in front; but

discharging his artillery right and left, he advanced, silencing the

forts, and soon driving the seamen from the front line of galleons into

the merchant ships. For four hours the terrible encounter continued,

the British exposed to a deadly hail of ball from the shore as well

as the ships, but still pressing on till the Spanish ships were all

in flames, and reduced to ashes, the troops in them having escaped to

land. The question, then, was how to escape out of the harbour, and

from the fury of the exasperated Spaniards on the land around. But

Blake drew his ships out of reach of the forts and, as if Providence

had wrought in his favour--as Blake firmly believed He did--the wind

about sunset veered suddenly round, and the fleet sailed securely out

to sea.

The fame of this unparalleled exploit rang throughout Europe, and

raised the reputation of England for naval prowess to the greatest

pitch. Unhappily, death was fast claiming the undaunted admiral. He

was suffering at the moment that he won this brilliant triumph, and,

sailing homewards, he expired (August 17, 1657) on board his ship, the

_St. George_, just as it entered the harbour of Plymouth. Besides the

high encomium of Clarendon, he received that of a writer of his own

party and time, in the narrative of the "Perfect Politician"--"He was

a man most wholly devoted to his country's service, resolute in his

undertakings, and most faithful in his performances of them. With him

valour seldom missed its reward, nor cowardice its punishment. When

news was brought him of a metamorphosis in the State at home, he would

then encourage the seamen to be most vigilant abroad; for, said he, it

was not our duty to mind State affairs, but to keep foreigners from

fooling us. In all his expeditions the wind seldom deceived him, but

mostly in the end stood his friend, especially in his last undertaking

in the Canary Islands. To the last he lived a single life, never being

espoused to any but his country's quarrels. As he lived bravely, he

died gloriously, and was buried in Henry VII.'s Chapel, yet enjoying

at this time no other monument but what is raised by his valour, which

time itself can hardly deface."

During this summer, Oliver had not only been gloriously engaged at

sea, but he had been busy on land. He was in league with Louis XIV. of

France to drive the Spaniards from the Netherlands. The French forces

were conducted by the celebrated Marshal Turenne, and the Spanish by

Don John of Austria, and the French insurgent chief, the Prince of

Condé. Cromwell sent over six thousand men under Sir John Reynolds, who

landed near Boulogne on the 13th and 14th of May. They were supported

by a strong fleet under Admiral Montague, the late colleague of Blake,

which cruised on the coast. The first united operations were to be

the reduction of Gravelines, Mardyke, and Dunkirk, the first of which

places, when taken, was to belong to France, the two latter to England.

If Gravelines were taken first, it was to be put into possession of

England, as a pledge for the conveyance of the two latter. This bold

demand on the part of Cromwell astonished his French allies, and was

violently opposed by the French cabinets, who told Louis that Dunkirk

once in the hands of the English, would prove another Calais to France.

But without Dunkirk, which Cromwell deemed necessary as a check to

the Royalist invasions from the Netherlands, with which he was

continually threatened, no aid was to be had from the Protector, and it

was conceded, whence came the angry declaration from the French, that

"Mazarin feared Cromwell more than the Devil."

The French Court endeavoured to employ the English forces on other work

than the reduction of these stipulated places. The young French king

went down to the coast to see the British army, and having expressed

much admiration of them recommended them to lay siege to Montmédy,

Cambray, and other towns in the interior. Cromwell was, however, too

much of a man of business and a general to suffer this. He ordered

his ambassador, Sir William Lockhart (who had married the Protector's

niece, Miss Rosina Sewster) to remonstrate, and insist on the attack

of Gravelines, Mardyke, and Dunkirk. He told the ambassador that to

talk of Cambray and interior towns as guarantees was "parcels of words

for children. If they will give us garrisons, let them give us Calais,

Dieppe, and Boulogne." He bade him tell the Cardinal that if he meant

any good from the treaty with him, he must keep it, and go to work on

Dunkirk, when, if necessary, he would send over two thousand more of

his veterans. This had the necessary effect: Mardyke was taken after

a siege of three days only, and put into the hands of the English on

the 23rd of September. The attack was then turned on Gravelines; but

the enemy opened their sluices, and laid all the country round under

water. On this Turenne, probably glad of the delay, put his troops

at that early period into winter quarters. During this time attempts

were made to corrupt the English officers by the Stuart party. The

Duke of York was in the Spanish army with the English Royalist exiles,

and communications were opened as of mere civility with the English

at Mardyke. As the English officers took their rides between Mardyke

and Dunkirk they were frequently met by the duke's officers, and

conversation took place. Sir John Reynolds was imprudent enough to pay

his respects to the duke on these occasions, and he was soon ordered

to London to answer for his conduct; but both he and a Colonel White,

who was evidence against him, were lost on the 5th of December on

the Goodwin Sands. The Duke of York now made a treacherous attack on

Mardyke, but was repulsed, and the affairs of Charles II. appeared so

hopeless, that Burnet asserts, and the same thing is asserted also in

the "Orrery Letters," that he was now mean enough to offer to marry one

of Cromwell's daughters, and thus settle all differences, but that

Cromwell told Lord Orrery that Charles was so debauched that he would

undo them all. Cromwell, indeed, just now married his two remaining

single daughters, Frances and Mary, to the Lords Rich and Falconberg.

Frances married Lord Rich, the son of the Earl of Warwick, and Mary

Lord Falconberg, of the Yorkshire family of Bellasis, formerly so

zealous for the royal party.

[Illustration: _By permission of the Corporation of Liverpool._

CROMWELL REFUSING THE CROWN, 1657.

FROM THE PICTURE BY J. SCHEX IN THE WALKER ART GALLERY, LIVERPOOL.]

[Illustration: ARREST OF CONSPIRATORS AT THE "MERMAID." (_See p._ 147.)]

The year 1658 opened by the meeting of the new Parliament. It was a

critical venture, and not destined to succeed better than the former

ones. To constitute the new House, called the Other House, Cromwell

had been obliged to remove to it most of the best-affected members of

the Commons. To comply with the "Petition and Advice," he had been

forced to admit into the Commons many who had been expelled from

former Parliaments for their violent Republicanism. The consequences

at once appeared. The Other House consisted of sixty-three members. It

included six of the ancient Peers--the Earls of Manchester, Warwick,

Mulgrave, Falconberg, Saye and Sele, and Lord Eure. But none but Eure

and Falconberg took their seats, not even the Earl of Warwick, whose

son and heir, Lord Rich, had just married the Protector's daughter. He

and the others objected to sit in the same House with General Hewson,

who had once been a shoemaker, and Pride, who had been a drayman.

Amongst the members appeared a considerable number of the officers

of the army, and the chief Ministers of State. These included the

Protector's two sons, Richard and Henry Cromwell, Fiennes, Keeper of

the Great Seal, Lisle, Fleetwood, Monk, Whalley, Whitelock, Barkstead,

Pride, Hewson, Goffe, Sir Christopher Pack, alderman of London, General

Claypole, St. John, and other old friends of the Protector, besides

the lords already mentioned. As they had been called by writs, which

were copies of the royal writs used on such occasions, the members

immediately assumed that it made them peers, and gave them a title

to hereditary rank. They were addressed by Cromwell in his opening

speech as "My Lords, and Gentlemen of the House of Commons." His speech

was very short, for he complained of indisposition, the truth being,

that the life of excitement, struggle, and incessant care for twenty

years had undermined his iron frame, and he was breaking down; but

he congratulated them on the internal peace attained, warned them of

danger from without, and exhorted them to unity and earnestness for the

public good. Fiennes, after the Protector's retirement, addressed them

in a much longer speech on the condition of the nation.

But all hopes of this nondescript Parliament were vain. The Other House

no sooner met apart than they began inquiring into their privileges,

and, assuming that they were not merely the Other House, but the Upper

House, sent a message, after the fashion of the ancient peers by the

judges, to desire a conference with the Commons on the subject of a

fast. The Commons, however, who were by the new Instrument made judges

of the Other House, being authorised to approve or disapprove of it,

showed that they meant the Other House to be not an Upper House, but

a lower House than themselves. They claimed to be the representatives

of the people; but who, they asked, had made the Other House a House

of Peers, who had given them an authority and a negative voice over

_them?_ The first thing which the Commons did was to claim the powers

of the new Instrument, and admit the most violent of the excluded

members, for none were to be shut out except rebels or Papists.

Haselrig, who had been appointed one of the Other House, refused to sit

in it; but having been elected to the Commons, he appeared there, and

demanded his oath. Francis Bacon, the Clerk of the House, replied that

he dared not give it him; but Haselrig insisted, and being supported

by his party, he at length obtained his oath, and took his seat. It

was then soon seen that the efficient Government members were gone to

the Other House, and Haselrig, Scott, Robinson, and the most fiery

members of the Republican section now carried things their own way, and

commenced a course of vehement opposition. Scott ripped up the whole

history of the House of Lords during the struggle of the Commonwealth.

He said--"The Lords would not join in the trial of the king. We called

the king to our bar, and arraigned him. He was for his obstinacy and

guilt condemned and executed, and so let all the enemies of God perish!

The House of Commons had a good conscience in it. Upon this the Lords'

House adjourned, and never met again; and it was hoped the people

of England should never again have a negative upon them." But the

hostility of this party was not to the Other House merely, it was to

the Protectorate itself, which it declaimed against, and not only in

the House, but out of it, setting on foot petitions for the abolition

of the Protectorate by the Commons. Whitelock remarks that this course

boded the speedy dissolution of the House. Cromwell summoned both

Houses to Whitehall January 25th, only five days after their meeting,

and in a long and powerful speech remonstrated with the Commons on

their frantic proceedings. He took a wide view of the condition of

Europe, of the peace and Protestantism of England, and asked them

what were their hopes, if, by their decision, they brought back the

dissolute and bigoted Court which they had dismissed. He declared that

the man who could contemplate the restoration of such a state of things

must have the heart of a Cain; that he would make England the scene of

a bloodier civil war than they had had before. He prayed, therefore,

that whoever should seek to break the peace, God Almighty might root

that man out of the nation; and he believed that the wrath of God would

prosecute such a man to his grave, if not to hell.

But all argument was lost on that fiery section. Scott and Haselrig

continued their assaults on the whole frame of government more

strenuously than ever; and on the 4th of February, fifteen days from

the meeting of Parliament, amid the confused bickering of Scott and

Haselrig with the wearied House, arrived the Usher of the Black Rod to

summon the members to the Other House, which he called boldly the House

of Lords. Haselrig, in the midst of his harangue, was reminded of the

presence of the Black Rod. "What care I for Black Rod?" he exclaimed,

but he was compelled to obey.

The Protector expressed the intensity of his disappointment that the

very men who had importuned him to assume the burden of Government, and

even the title of king, should now, instead of attending to the urgent

business of the nation, endeavour violently to destroy that Government,

and throw everything into chaos. "I can say in the presence of God," he

continued, "in comparison with Whom we are but like poor creeping ants

upon the earth, I would have been glad to have lived under a wood-side,

to have kept a flock of sheep rather than have undertaken such a

Government as this. But undertaking it by the advice and petition of

you, I did look that you, who had offered it unto me, should make it

good." He added, "And if this be the end of your sitting, and this be

your carriage, I think it high time to put an end to your sitting; and

I do dissolve this Parliament." And thus closed the last Parliament of

Cromwell, after a session of a fortnight.

Having dismissed his Parliament, Cromwell had to take summary measures

with the host of conspirators whom his refractory Parliaments had only

tended to encourage. Since the "Killing no Murder" of Sexby, there

were numbers who were by no means careful to conceal that they loved

these doctrines, and persuaded the discontented that to kill Cromwell

was to cure all the evils of the nation. The Royalists, on their

part, who had always been advocates and practisers of assassination,

were more than ever on the alert. In the beginning of the year 1658

the plan of an invasion was completed. The King of Spain furnished

one hundred and fifty thousand crowns towards fitting it out: arms,

ammunition, and transports were purchased in Holland, and the port of

Ostend was to be the place of embarkation. The greatest drawback to

the hopes of the Royalists were the dissipated and debauched habits of

the king. Ormond, writing to Hyde, observed that he feared Charles's

immoderate delight in empty, effeminate, and vulgar conversation was

become an irresistible part of his nature, and would never suffer him

to animate his own designs and the actions of others with that spirit

which was necessary for his quality, and much more for his fortunes.

Yet this was the man on whom their hopes of the restoration of monarchy

were built. Ormond and O'Neil ventured to England in disguise, in

order to ascertain what were really the resources and the spirit of

the Royalists in the country. Ormond had private communication with

all parties--with the Earls of Manchester and Denbigh, with Rossiter

and Sir William Waller, as Presbyterians opposed to Cromwell and

the Independents; with Saye and Sele and others, who were willing

that Charles should return on his signing the same articles that his

father had offered in the Isle of Wight; and with such of the fanatic

Levellers as held the opinions of Sexby. But he found little that

was encouraging amongst any of them. If we are to believe Clarendon,

he was betrayed by one of those in whom he most trusted, Sir Richard

Willis, who was high in the confidence of Charles, but was at the same

time a paid spy of Cromwell's. It is certain that one day in March the

Protector said to Lord Broghill, "An old friend of yours is in town,

the Duke of Ormond, now lodged in Drury Lane, at the Papist surgeon's

there. You had better tell him to be gone." Broghill found that this

was the case, and gave Ormond the necessary hint, who hurried back

to Bruges, and assured Charles and his Court that Cromwell had many

enemies, but there was at present no chance of a successful invasion.

But if Cromwell was disposed to allow Ormond to escape, he was

compelled to make an example of some other of the Royalist agitators.

On the 12th of March the Protector sent for the Lord Mayor and aldermen

to Whitehall, informed them that the Duke of Ormond had been lurking in

the City to excite rebellion, and that it was necessary to take strict

measures for putting down the seditious of all sorts. At the same time

he ordered the fleet to sweep the coasts of the Netherlands, which

drove in there two fleets intended for the Royalist expedition, and

blockaded Ostend. He then determined to bring to justice some of the

most incorrigible agitators. Sir Henry Slingsby, who had been confined

in Hull ever since the outbreak of Penruddock, had not even there

ceased his active resistance, employing himself to corrupt the officers

of the garrison, who, being instructed by the governor, appeared to

listen to his views, so that ere long he was emboldened to offer them

commissions from Charles Stuart. Another person arrested was Dr. Hewit,

an Episcopalian clergyman, who preached at St. Gregory's, near St.

Paul's, and was a most indefatigable advocate of a royal invasion.

There were numbers of the Royalist apprentices and others in the City,

who were not patient enough to wait for the invasion; they resolved to

rise on the 15th of May, fire the houses near the Tower, and by sound

of drum proclaim the king. The Protector told Thurloe that "it was not

fit that there should be a plot of this kind every winter," and Thurloe

had made himself thoroughly aware of all their proceedings. As the time

approached, the ringleaders were seized at the "Mermaid," in Cheapside.

A High Court of Justice was appointed according to Act of Parliament,

and Slingsby, Hewit, and the City incendiaries were tried. There was

ample proof of their guilt. Hewit denied the authority of the court and

refused to plead, but he was all the same condemned with Slingsby and

six of the City traitors to death.

In the Netherlands Sir William Lockhart admirably supplied the place of

Sir John Reynolds, acting both as ambassador and general. The Allied

army opened the campaign of 1658 with the siege of Dunkirk. The Prince

of Condé had in vain assured the Spaniards that this would be the case,

whilst they imagined that the intention of the Allies was to besiege

Cambray. When Don John saw his mistake, he determined to attack the

Allies and raise the siege. But Turenne and Lockhart would not wait

to be attacked; they marched to meet the Spaniards, and surprised

them before they had received their supply of ammunition for the

intended assault. Don John hastily drew up his forces along a ridge of

sandhills, and gave the command of the right wing to the Duke of York,

and the left to Condé, himself commanding the centre. Lockhart was too

ill to take the command, but gave it to Colonel Morgan, who, with his

English forces, found himself opposed to the Duke of York. The English

dashed up the sandhill, and soon drove the infantry of the enemy before

them. They were then charged by the Duke of York at the head of the

Spanish cavalry, and the battle was terrible, but nearly half of the

duke's men fell under the well-directed fire of his countrymen. The

left wing, however, under Condé, had given way, and the duke, leaving

his rallied infantry to contend with the English in front, directed the

charge of his cavalry against their flank. It was in vain; the centre

gave way without fighting, and the brave English defending themselves

against their numerous assailants till relieved by a body of French

horse, the whole line of the Spaniards collapsed. The Duke of York, who

had fought gallantly, was saved in the first charge only by the temper

of his armour, and in the second he was surrounded by the enemy, and,

according to his own account, only extricated himself by assuming the

character of a French officer, and leading on several troopers to the

charge till he saw a chance of riding off. Marshal Turenne gave the

credit of the victory to the gallantry of the English, who had, at the

close of the battle, scarcely a single officer left alive. At Whitehall

the victory was attributed to the prayers of the saints at Court, for

it happened that the Protector had set apart that day for a solemn

fast, and, says Thurloe, "whilst we were praying, they were fighting,

and the Lord gave a signal answer."

The Lord Falconberg was despatched to carry congratulations to Louis

XIV., who was at Calais, and soon afterwards these were returned by the

Duke of Crequi and M. Mancini, the nephew of Mazarin, who expressed his

regret that, owing to the urgency of affairs, he was unable to come

himself, as he said he had long desired; but he sent a magnificent

sword from the king, and a fine piece of tapestry from himself. Dunkirk

was given up to the English, Gravelines was taken, Ypres surrendered,

and all the towns on the banks of the Lys fell into the hands of the

conquerors.

Here closed the victorious career of Oliver Cromwell; these were

the last of his triumphs, and nearly the last of his life. Though

he now stood apparently at the summit of fortune, both domestic and

foreign enemies being for the time subdued, yet the grand platform

of life and mortal glory was already giving way beneath him. His

health was undermined by the long conflict with a host of enemies, and

circumstances around him were gloom. Sickness had entered, death was

about to select its victims from his own house. His daughter Frances

was left a young widow by the death of Lord Rich, son of the Earl of

Warwick, twelve days after the dissolution of Parliament; his daughter

Claypole, his favourite daughter, was lying ill, and beyond the reach

of medical art at that period, and his own iron frame was yielding.

Around him, in his outward affairs, the circumstances were full of

anxiety. He knew that he had repulsed, but not destroyed, the domestic

enemies of his Government. They were as alert as ever to the chance of

starting up and again attempting to overturn his power. All his three

Parliaments had proved thoroughly unmanageable, and had reduced him

to the very measures so strongly condemned in Charles I.--continual

interruption of the debates, invasion of privileges, and abrupt

dissolutions to prevent the completion of hostile measures. The only

circumstance in his favour was that Charles's arbitrary acts were for

the formation of despotism; his for that of a rational liberty. Under

no previous Government had the people enjoyed such just laws, such just

judges, and so much liberty, especially religious liberty.

But, like Charles, Cromwell was now governing without a Parliament,

and, like him, being without a Parliament, he was without funds. The

wars on sea and land had emptied his exchequer, and to raise supplies

by arbitrary means would cover him with the odium which had clung to

the king he had overthrown. He appointed a committee of nine persons

to consider as to the best means of calling a Parliament likely to

work with the existing Government, and also to decide on the successor

to the Protectorate. But on this committee there were secret enemies,

and it came to no conclusion as to the Parliament; but as to the

succession, it determined that since the succession had been left

to the Protector, it was a matter of no consequence. Suspecting

their motives, and deriving no benefit from them, he dismissed the

committee towards the end of July, and was left with no resource but

the ingenuity of Thurloe, his secretary, who borrowed where he could,

but was often refused. This could not, however, last. His army was his

grand prop, and so long as it was duly paid and clothed there was no

danger, but let payment fall into arrears, and it would soon begin to

listen to the suggestions of the Republican and Anabaptist officers.

With these gloomy circumstances, his suspicions seem to have grown

of those about him, or of assassins who might make more successful

attempts than before; as his health failed his fears acquired a decided

mastery. He is said to have worn armour under his clothes: we know that

he had long carried loaded pistols. Clarendon says he had become much

"less easy of access, nor so much seen abroad; and he seemed to be in

some disorder when his eyes found any stranger in the room, upon whom

they still seemed fixed. When he intended to go to Hampton Court, which

was his principal delight and diversion, it was never known till he was

in the coach which way he would go; and he was still hemmed in by his

guards before and behind; and the coach, in which he went was always

thronged as full as it could be with his servants, who were armed, and

he seldom returned the same way he went, and rarely lodged two nights

together in one chamber, but had many furnished and prepared, to which

his own key conducted him."

[Illustration: JOHN THURLOE.]

Though this is the statement of an enemy, we can very well believe

it, for Cromwell's life had been for years aimed at by assassins,

both Royalist and Republican, by paid bravoes of Charles II., and by

fanatics. These various fears and anxieties told strongly as his

health failed. He reached his fifty-ninth year in April, and was

therefore pretty advanced towards his sixtieth. For fourteen days

before the death of Mrs. Claypole, the Protector was almost day and

night by her bedside, not being able to attend to any business in his

deep anxiety. Mrs. Claypole died on the 6th of August, and George Fox

going to Hampton Court, to represent to Cromwell the persecutions of

his friends, on the 20th of that month, met him riding in Hampton Court

Park at the head of his Life Guards, and was so struck with his altered

appearance, that he said "he felt a waft of death go forth against

him, and when he came up to him he looked like a dead man." On hearing

George's statement, he desired him to come to the palace to him; but

next day, when Fox went thither, he was told that he was much worse,

and that the physicians were not willing he should speak with anybody.

Cromwell died on the 3rd of September, the day of Dunbar and Worcester,

the day which he had set down as his fortunate day, and which was in

nothing more so than in this last event. He laid down a burden which he

had often said "was too heavy for man," and with the possession of that

form of government which he sincerely deemed essential to truth and

liberty still in his grasp. It was a form of government which had no

foundation in the convictions of the people, and which sooner or later

was bound to fall; and the old prejudices in favour of royalty bring

back a fresh lesson of martyrdom to its votaries. The Dictatorship was

at an end; it had been maintained by Cromwell's innate vigour, and

could only last as long as he did. The day that he died was a day of

terrible wind, and his enemies declared that the devil came in it to

fetch him away; but his friends said that Nature could not witness the

departure of so great a spirit without marking its strong emotion. Many

are the sayings of his last hours reported by friends and foes, but

it is certain that he expressed his firm belief that he died in the

unbroken covenant with God.

On his deathbed the Protector had been asked to name his successor.

Empowered by the "Petition and Advice," he had already named him in

a sealed packet, which now, however, could not be found, and though

he was supposed to say Richard, it was so indistinctly, that it was

by no means certain. However, Richard was proclaimed in London and

Westminster, and then in all the large towns at home, and in Dunkirk,

and the colonies abroad. At first all appeared favourable for the

peaceable succession of Richard. All parties hastened to congratulate

him. Foreign ministers sent addresses of condolence and intimations of

their desire to renew their alliances. From all parts of the country,

and from the City, and from one hundred congregational churches, poured

in addresses, conceived in the most fulsome affectation of religion.

Cromwell had been a Moses, but his son was a Joshua. Elijah was gone,

but Elisha remained.

The Royalists were confounded to find everything pass over so smoothly,

but all who knew the retiring disposition of Richard, and the volcano

of raging materials which lay in the sects, factions, and parties which

at that moment divided and agitated England, could only look on it as

the lull before the tempest. Richard Cromwell had all his life long

displayed a liking only for a quiet country life. He had no ambitions,

either military or political. He had lived in his domestic retirement,

entering neither the field nor the cabinet, and his father, in his

letters, was continually calling him "indolent Dick." It was impossible

that such a man could ever curb the fierce and conflicting factions

with which he was surrounded; it is most probable that he only longed

to be well rid of the whole onerous burden.

There were various leaders in the army so nearly equal in rank and

influence that there was sure to be strife for the chief command.

Fleetwood had married a sister of the present Protector; Desborough was

his uncle; his brother Henry, who was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, was

a much more resolute and able man than himself; and Monk, in Scotland,

had great power in his hands. The chief command in the army lay, by

the late Instrument, in the Protector himself; but the officers of

the army met and drew up a petition that the chief command should be

conferred on some one of the generals who had shown his attachment to

the cause by his services, and that no officer should be deprived of

his commission except by sentence of a court-martial. Richard, by the

advice of Thurloe, replied that he had appointed General Fleetwood

lieutenant-general of the forces, but that to give up the supreme

command would be to violate the "Petition and Advice," by which he

held his own authority. This did not content the officers; they still

held their meetings, a liberty which Oliver had wisely suppressed,

and there were many suspicions expressed amongst them. They asserted

that Henry Cromwell would soon be placed above Fleetwood, who, though

conscientious, was very weak and vacillating, and they demanded that

Thurloe, St. John and Pierpoint, Richard's ablest counsellors, should

be dismissed, as enemies to the army. It was clear that a collision

must take place between these parties and Thurloe, and his friends

advised Richard to call a Parliament, by which he would not only be

able to curb the power of the officers, but to raise money for the

payment of the soldiers. The nation was keeping a large fleet under

Ayscue, or Ayscough, part of which was cruising in the Baltic, to

protect the English allies, the Swedes, against the Danes and Dutch,

and another, under Montague, was blockading the Dutch coast. Money,

therefore, was absolutely necessary to defray expenses, and Richard

consented to call a Parliament. It was a necessary evil, a formidable

undertaking. For the five months that passed before their meeting,

Richard ruled with all the outward state, and with more than the

quiet of his father. But his father, with all his vigour and tact,

had never been able to manage a Parliament, most of the members of

which immediately set about to overthrow him; what hope, then, that

Richard could contend with such a restless and domineering body? It

was absolutely impossible, and he was speedily made sensible of it. To

introduce as many members of the Commons as he could favourable to his

views, he departed from his father's plan of only calling them from the

larger boroughs and the counties, and restored the franchise to the

lesser and decayed boroughs. Every means was used besides to obtain

the return of men favourable to the Government; and in Scotland and

Ireland, from whence thirty members each were admitted, the elections

were conducted under the eyes of the commander of the forces. But,

notwithstanding, from the very first assembling of the Commons, they

showed that they were likely to be as unmanageable as ever. When

Richard summoned the Commons to meet him in the Lords scarcely half the

members attended, lest they should sanction the existence of a body

which they disclaimed. The Commons were as much divided as the army.

There were the friends of the Government, who were instructed to stand

firm by the "Petition and Advice," and the Government, founded by it,

of one ruling person and two Houses of Parliament. Then there were the

Presbyterians and Republicans, who were for no Lords nor Protector

either, and were led on by Haselrig, Scott, Bradshaw, Lambert, Ludlow,

and others of those united parties, with whom Vane and Fairfax now

co-operated. Fairfax, from the moment when he showed his disapprobation

of the death of Charles I., had retired into private life, but now he

reappeared, and though become a Royalist at heart, his spirited lady no

doubt having roused that feeling in him, he voted with the Republican

party, as most likely to prevail against the Protectorate, and thus

pave the way to monarchy. Besides these, there were many neutrals or

moderates, and a considerable sprinkling of young Royalists, who, by

Charles's advice, had got in under other colours.

However much these parties differed amongst themselves, there were

sufficient of them adverse to the Protectorate to commence an immediate

attack upon it. They fell at once to debating the legality of the

"Petition and Advice," and of course Government by a single person and

two Houses. They asked what was the "Petition and Advice," and they

declared it to be an instrument of no validity, passed by a very small

majority of a House from which a hundred members had been forcibly

excluded. The debates were long and violent. Though Parliament met on

the 27th of January, 1659, it was the 14th of February before they had

decided that Richard's right to the Protectorate should be settled by

another Bill, but with much restricted prerogative, and it was not

till the 28th of March that they allowed the right of the other House

to sit, but with no superiority to the Commons, and with no authority

to send messages to it except by members of the House. These points

settled, there were high demands for a searching inquiry into the

management of all departments of the State, with heavy charges of

waste, embezzlement, oppression, and tyranny, in the collection of the

excise. Threats of impeachment were held out against Thurloe and the

principal ministers, as well as against Butler and some others of the

officers.

This aroused the generals, who were themselves divided into two great

factions. One set met at Whitehall under Ingoldsby, Whalley, Goffe,

Lord Charles Howard, and others favourable to the Protector; another,

under Fleetwood and Desborough, met at Wallingford House, who, though

the Protector's own relations, were bent on their own and the army's

ascendency. They were joined by Lambert, who, after being deprived of

his commission, had remained at Wimbledon, cultivating his garden, and

seeming to be forgotten; but now he came forth again and was received

with enthusiasm by the soldiers, who had great confidence in his

ability. Desborough used also to meet with a third party, consisting

chiefly of the inferior officers, at St. James's.

At this place of meeting a council of officers was organised, which

soon became influential with the Wallingford House, or Fleetwood's,

section. Here they drew up an address to Richard, complaining of the

arrears of their pay being withheld, and of the neglect with which the

army was treated; of the attempts to overthrow the Acts passed by the

Long Parliament, and the encouragement thereby given to the Royalists,

who were flocking over from Flanders, and exciting discontent against

"the good old cause," and against the persons and interests of those

who had shed their blood for the Commonwealth. This address was

presented on the 14th of April by Fleetwood, with no less than six

hundred signatures. Though it did not even mention the name of this

Parliament, that body felt that it was directed entirely against them,

and immediately voted that no meeting or general council of officers

should be held without the consent and order of the Protector, and that

no person should hold any command by sea or land who did not forthwith

sign an engagement that he would not in any way disturb or prevent the

free meeting and debates of Parliament, or the freedom of any member

of Parliament. This was certain to produce a retort from the army--it

was an open declaration of war upon it; and accordingly Fleetwood and

Desborough waited on Richard and assured him that it was absolutely

necessary to dissolve Parliament; and Desborough, who was a bold, rough

soldier, declared that if he did not do it, he felt sure the army would

soon pull him out of Whitehall.

It may be questioned how far this declaration was warranted by the real

facts of the case. The majority of the army was probably opposed to any

violence being shown to the son of the great Protector, but in critical

times it is the small knot of restless, unscrupulous spirits who rule

the inert mass, and impose their own views upon the sluggish and the

timid; and Desborough well knew the irresolute and impressionable

character of Richard Cromwell.

On the other hand, many members of Parliament protested that they would

stand by him, that if he allowed the army to suppress Parliament, he

would find it immediately his own master, and would be left without

a friend. Ingoldsby, Goffe, and Whalley supported this view, and one

of them offered to go and kill Lambert, who was the originator of all

the mischief. Richard called a council to consider the proposition.

Whitelock represented the danger of dissolving Parliament, and leaving

himself at the mercy of the army; but Thurloe, Lord Broghill, Fiennes,

and Wolseley declared there was no alternative, for if the army and

Parliament came to strife, the Cavaliers would rise and bring in

Charles. Richard reluctantly gave way, and on the 22nd of April he

signed a commission empowering Fiennes, the Keeper of the Seal, to

dissolve Parliament. Fiennes summoned the Commons to the Upper House by

the Usher of the Black Rod, but they shut the door in the face of that

officer, and refused to obey, adjourning themselves for three days.

Fiennes, however, declared Parliament dissolved, the Commons having

been duly summoned to witness it, and a proclamation was issued to that

effect.

The warning of Whitelock was at once verified; the moment that the

Parliament ceased, all regard to Richard by the army ceased with

it. From that moment he was deserted except by a small knot of

officers--Goffe, Whalley, and Ingoldsby,--and he was as completely

annihilated as Protector as if all parties had deposed him by assent

and proclamation. The council of officers proceeded to take measures

for the exercise of the supreme power. They placed guards to prevent

the adjourned Commons from re-taking their seats at Westminster as

they proposed, and by their own authority dismissed Ingoldsby, Goffe,

Whalley, and the other officers who had adhered to Richard, from their

commands in the army, and restored Lambert and all the others who had

been cashiered by Oliver. Having thus restored the Republicanism of

the army, they determined to recall the Rump, as a body which they

believed they could command; and they accordingly issued an order

for the reassembling of the House of Commons which Oliver had so

unceremoniously dismissed on the 20th of April, 1653. At this call,

Lenthall, the old Speaker of the Rump, with about forty or fifty

members of the Rump, hastened the next day to Westminster, where

Lambert kept guard with the troops, and after some discussion in the

Painted Chamber, they went in a body to the House through two files

of Lambert's soldiers, and took their places as a real Parliament.

But their claim to this exclusive right was immediately disputed. The

same day, the 7th of May, a large number of the members who had been

excluded by Pride's purge, in 1648, of whom one hundred and ninety-four

were still alive, and eighty of them residing in the capital,

assembled in Westminster Hall, and sent up to the House a deputation

of fourteen, headed by Prynne, Annesley, and Sir George Booth, to

demand equal liberty to sit; but as this would have overwhelmed them

with a Presbyterian majority, the doors were closed against them:

they were kept back by the soldiers who filled the lobby, who were

ironically called "the keepers of the liberties of England," and they

were informed that no member could sit who had not already signed the

engagement. On the 9th, however, Prynne made his way into the House,

and kept his seat, in spite of all efforts to dislodge him, till

dinner-time; but going out to dine, he found himself shut out on his

return.

[Illustration: THE MANOR HOUSE, WIMBLEDON (1660).]

The Rump now proceeded to appoint a Committee of Safety, and then

a Council of State, which included Fairfax, Lambert, Desborough,

Bradshaw, Fleetwood, Ashley Cooper, Haselrig, Vane, Ludlow, St.

John, and Whitelock. Letters were received from Monk in Scotland,

congratulating the Rump on their return to power, but hypocritically

begging them to keep in mind the services of Cromwell and his family.

Lockhart sent over from Flanders the tendered services of the regiments

there, and was confirmed in his office of ambassador, and also

commissioned to attend a conference between the ministers of France

and Spain, to be held at Fuentarabia, whither Charles Stuart had also

betaken himself. Montague sent in the adhesion of the fleet, and, what

was still more consoling, Henry Cromwell, whose opposition in Ireland

was much dreaded, resigned his office, and was permitted to retire into

private life.

The Wallingford House party of officers alone created serious

apprehension. They sent in a list of fifteen demands, which were

immediately taken into consideration, and the Rump successively voted,

in compliance therewith, that a form of government should be passed

calculated to preserve the liberties of the people, and that it should

contain no single person as Protector, nor House of Peers. They also

agreed that liberty of conscience should be allowed to all believers

in the Scriptures who held the doctrine of the Trinity, except Papists

and Prelatists. But one of these demands was for lands of inheritance

to be settled on Richard Cromwell to the value of ten thousand pounds

a year, and a pension on her Highness, his mother, of ten thousand

pounds a year. On this it was remarked that Richard was still occupying

Whitehall as if he were Protector, and they made it conditional that

he should remove thence. They proposed that if he retired from the

Protectorate, they would grant him twenty-nine thousand pounds for the

discharge of his debts, two thousand pounds for present necessities,

and ten thousand pounds to him and his heirs. Richard cheerfully signed

a formal abdication in May, 1659, but his pension was never paid.

After the Restoration he fled to the Continent, where he remained

for twenty years. He returned in 1680, and lived peaceably on his

estate at Cheshunt, or at Mardon, in Hursley, near Winchester, which

he received with Dorothy Mayor, and there spent a jolly life in old

English state, dying in 1712. During his father's life, he is said in

convivial hours to have drunk the health of his father's landlord,

Charles Stuart; and he possessed a chest which contained the addresses

and congratulations, even the protestations of profound fidelity from

corporations, congregations, and almost all the public men, and on this

chest he would seat himself in his jocund hours, amongst his convivial

friends, and boast that he was sitting on the lives and fortunes of

most of the leading men of England. Henry Cromwell also passed his life

as a quiet country gentleman on his estate of Swinney, near Soham, in

Cambridgeshire, till his death in 1673. His government of Ireland was,

on his resigning, put into the hands of five commissioners, and the

command of the army was given to Ludlow.

Charles and his party abroad, watching the continual bickerings of

their enemies in England, put in motion all their machinery to create

confusion, and to seize the opportunity of taking every possible

means of procuring a revolt amongst them. Charles, to encourage his

partisans, announced his intention of coming to England to head them.

The 1st of August was fixed on for a rising, and Charles hastened into

Boulogne, to be ready to pass over into Wales or Cornwall. The Duke of

York was to lead over six hundred of the Prince of Condé's veterans,

and, crossing from Boulogne, land on the coast of Kent, whilst the Duke

of Gloucester was to proceed from Ostend with four thousand troops

under Marshal Marsin. Unfortunately for them, their plans had been

revealed to Thurloe by Sir Richard Willis, one of the king's sealed

knot of seven trusted confidants. Convinced by this treason that the

enterprise would fail, Charles sent circular letters to stop the

rising. But these in some instances arrived too late. Many appeared

in arms, and were fallen upon and routed or taken prisoners by the

Parliamentarians. Sir John Gore, the Lady Mary Howard, daughter of the

Earl of Berkshire, in addition to many other persons of distinction,

were arrested on charges of high treason. In Cheshire Sir George Booth

raised the royal standard, and took possession of Chester; but on

learning the news of the king's deferring the enterprise, and that

General Lambert was marching against them, he and his associates fled

to Nantwich, where Lambert overtook and totally routed them. Colonel

Morgan, with thirty of his men, fell on the field; the Earl of Derby

was taken disguised as a servant; Sir Thomas Middleton, who was eighty

years old, fled to Chirk Castle, but soon surrendered; and Booth

himself, disguised as a woman, and riding on a pillion, was betrayed

and taken on the road to London, near Newton Pagnell. This unlucky

outbreak and defeat threw the adherents of Charles abroad into despair.

Montague, the admiral, who had been won over, and had brought his fleet

to the mouth of the Thames to facilitate the passage of the king's

troops, pretended that he had come for provisions, and, though he was

suspected, he was allowed to return to his station. Charles himself,

now almost desperate, made a journey to Fuentarabia, where Mazarin and

Don Louis de Haro, the ministers of France and Spain, were engaged in

a treaty, in the hope that, if it were concluded, he might obtain some

support from them. But he was very coldly received; Mazarin would not

even see him. In fact, his fortunes were apparently at the lowest ebb,

but it was in reality only the dark hour before the dawn. The day of

his fortune was at hand.

Parliament, on Lambert's victory, voted him thanks and one thousand

pounds to purchase a jewel in memory of it; but Lambert distributed

the money amongst his soldiers. Parliament resenting this, regarded it

as intended to win the soldiers to his cause, that he might tread in

Cromwell's steps, and make himself Dictator. It was well known that he

had entertained hopes of being named his successor, and this suspicion

was immediately confirmed by his officers, whilst on their march

at Derby, signing a petition, and sending it up with a demand that

Fleetwood should be made permanently Commander-in-Chief, and Lambert

his lieutenant-general. No sooner did Haselrig see this petition,

than he denounced it as an attempt to overturn Parliament, and moved

the committal of Lambert and its author to the Tower. But Fleetwood

repelled the charge by assuring them that Lambert, who was already

in town when the petition was got up, knew nothing of it. The House,

however, ordered all copies of the paper to be destroyed, and voted

that any addition to the number of officers was needless, chargeable,

and dangerous. At the same time they proceeded to conciliate the

soldiers by advancing their pay, and, to discharge their arrears, on

the 5th of October they raised the monthly assessment from thirty-five

thousand pounds to one hundred thousand pounds.

Matters were, however, gone too far to be thus settled between

Parliament and the army. Haselrig, Scott, and their associates were

of that class of sanguine Republicans, who in their zeal think only

of the principles they wish to establish, without calculating how far

the country is prepared for them, and thus blindly rush on their own

defeat. The Wallingford House military council prepared another paper

called a petition, but which was a far more hostile communication,

asserting that whoever cast scandalous imputations on the army should

be brought to condign punishment. That was distinct enough, but

Haselrig and his party had got the adhesion of three regiments, and

relied on the promises of Monk in Scotland, and Ludlow in Ireland.

On the 11th of October a vote was passed, declaring it high treason

to levy any money on the people without consent of Parliament, and,

therefore, as the existing taxes expired on the first day of the new

year, Haselrig's following believed that they had thus rendered the

army wholly dependent on them. Next day Haselrig moved and carried a

motion that Desborough, Lambert, six colonels, and a major, should be

deprived of their commissions for signing the late petition. By another

vote Fleetwood was deprived of the office of Commander-in-chief, but

made president of a board of seven members, for the management of the

army. The blind zealots had witnessed to little purpose the history

of late years, and the movements of armies. On the next day Lambert,

with three thousand men, marched into Westminster, where he found the

Houses of Parliament guarded by two regiments of foot, and four troops

of horse. On his way he met Lenthall, the Speaker, attended by a guard.

He ordered that official to dismount, and on refusing, according to

Clarendon, pulled him from his horse, and sent him to his own house.

The soldiers, on the two parties meeting, at once coalesced, and the

Rump was again dismissed. The officers at Wallingford House took

upon themselves to annul Haselrig's votes of the last three days, and

establish a provisional Committee of Safety of twenty-three members.

There was a party amongst them for restoring Richard Cromwell, who came

up from Hampshire escorted by three troops of horse; but this party was

outvoted by a small majority, and he retired.

Whilst these confused changes were taking place--eddies in the national

affairs, but neither progress nor honour, Parliament having no power

to restrain the army, nor the army any one man of a genius capable

of controlling the rest,--there was at least one commander who was

silently and reservedly watching the course of events, resolved to

go with the strongest side, if such a side could be found. This was

General Monk. He was originally a Royalist, and of a strongly Royalist

family. His elder brother, with the rest of his relations, had always

been zealously devoted to the king, and it is said that his wife was

a most ardent advocate for the king's interest. These circumstances

had caused Charles frequently to sound him by his emissaries; but

though he received them courteously, and listened patiently to their

statements, he gave no outward evidence that he was likely to comply

with their entreaties. He was a man of deep and impenetrable secrecy

and caution, of few words, and a gloomy, unimpassioned manner.

Cromwell, during his life, was quite aware of the overtures and royal

promises made to Monk, but could not discover the slightest thing in

him to warrant a suspicion of his leaning in the smallest degree that

way, and he therefore contented himself with jocularly remarking to him

in a postscript in one of his letters, "'Tis said there is a cunning

fellow in Scotland, called George Monk, who lies in wait there to serve

Charles Stuart; pray use your diligence to take him, and send him up to

me."

There was not much likelihood of Monk swerving from the Commonwealth

while the strong man Cromwell lived, but now, amid such scenes of

weakness, he no doubt began to feel that the royal party would have to

be recalled. Such a presentiment, however, lay locked in his taciturn

breast. The officers sent Colonel Cobbet to Monk in Scotland, who,

however, expressed his firm adherence to the Commons, and when he heard

of what Lambert and the officers had done, he wrote strong letters to

them, complaining of the violence which they had done to the power and

authority of Parliament. He imprisoned Cobbet, and purging his army

of all who were fanatics or inclined to Lambert and his party, he

sent them under guard to the Border, and dismissed them into England,

under penalty of death if they returned. He immediately placed strong

garrisons in the castle of Edinburgh and in the citadel of Leith,

and, collecting cavalry, marched to Berwick, where he placed a strong

garrison. Letters were written to Lenthall in the name of himself and

his officers, assuring the Parliamentary party that "he called God to

witness that the asserting of the Commonwealth was the only interest

of his heart." Whilst Haselrig, Lenthall, and the rest were gratified

by these protestations, they remarked with wonder, and soon with deep

suspicion, that he had cashiered all those officers whom they had

introduced into his army, and restored those whom they had expelled.

There was no alternative, however, but to act with him and watch him.

In the meantime Monk had called a convention of the Scottish Estates

at Berwick, and informing them that "he had received a call from

heaven and earth to march into England for the better settling of the

Government there," he recommended the peace of the kingdom to their

care, and obtained from them a grant of sixty thousand pounds, from the

arrears of taxes. He then took up his headquarters at Coldstream, and

waited the course of events.

[Illustration: RICHARD CROMWELL. (_After the Portrait by Walker._)]

The Committee of Safety, on hearing of the movements of Monk,

despatched Lambert with an army of seven thousand men to meet him

on his march, and if he could not win him to co-operation with the

rest of the army, to resist his advance by force. But having seen

Lambert on his way northward, the committee sent directly to Monk a

deputation to endeavour to bring him over to their views, by offers

of many advantages. Monk received the deputation very courteously,

expressed every desire to unite with the rest of the army, provided

there were some ruling power to whom all parties might be subject, and

sent three commissioners to treat with the Committee of Safety on the

subject. This greatly encouraged the Committee of Safety, who thought

their sending Lambert against Monk had frightened him, and whilst they

prepared to receive Monk's commissioners, they ordered Lambert to

hasten on his march.

[Illustration: RECEPTION OF MONK IN THE CITY OF LONDON. (_See p._ 160.)]

But affairs nearer home were every day becoming more disheartening.

Haselrig and Morley had gone down to Portsmouth, where they were well

received by the governor, and were looked up to as representing the

authority of Parliament. Fleetwood sent down troops to oppose them,

but the troops themselves went over to them. This success encouraged

the apprentices and other dissatisfied persons in London to rise,

and demand the restoration of Parliament; and though Colonel Hewson

attacked and killed some of them, the spirit and the disturbance only

grew the stronger. To finish the matter, Admiral Lawson appeared with

the fleet in the Thames, and declared for the Parliament on the 17th

of December, and, as soon as they heard this, Haselrig and Morley

marched with their forces to London. At their approach the troops in

Westminster revolted from the Committee and joined them, declaring

that they would live and die with the Parliament. They received

those officers who had lately been dismissed, and all marched into

Lincoln's Inn Fields, and so to Chancery Lane, where they halted before

Lenthall's house, fired three volleys of musketry, and hailed him not

only Speaker of the Commons, but Lord-General of the army. This was on

Christmas Eve, and Desborough's regiment, which Lambert had sent back

to check these counter-movements, on hearing this news, at St. Albans,

also declared for the Parliament, and sent the Speaker word of the

adhesion. During all this reaction, Fleetwood had still sat with the

Committee of Safety, but exhibiting the strangest want of courage and

decision. When urged to go and use his influence with the soldiers, to

prevent their defection, he fell on his knees and prayed, or declared

that it was useless, that "God had spit in his face, and would not hear

him."

Whitelock relates that at this juncture he strongly advised Fleetwood

to join him and go away to the king, convinced that Monk was deceiving

the Parliament, and that the return of Charles was inevitable. He

said, therefore, that it was better to get away to him and make terms

for themselves and friends whilst the time allowed. Fleetwood was

convinced, and ordered Whitelock to prepare for the journey; but Vane,

Desborough, and Berry coming in, he quickly altered his mind, and

declared that he had pledged his word to Lambert before he marched

to do nothing of the kind without his consent. Whitelock repeated

that if he did not do it, then all was lost; but Fleetwood, weak but

honourable, replied he could not help it; his word was pledged: and in

the end he submitted himself to the Parliament.

Lenthall, the Speaker, at the head of a party of soldiers who

made themselves merry on their new Lord-General, went into the

City, informed the Lord Mayor and Aldermen that the Parliament was

assembling, and, on his own authority, ordered from the Tower the

governor and officers put there by the Committee of Safety, and placed

in command Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, who had brought in Admiral

Lawson, assisted by several members of Parliament. On the 26th of

December the Rump met again in that House from which they had been

twice so ignominiously expelled. Their first proceeding was to annul

their act against the payment of excise and customs, so that they might

not be without money, and their next to dismiss Lambert, Desborough,

Berry, and other officers, and to order them to retire farther from

London; and they ordered Vane, who had adhered to the Committee of

Safety, to confine himself to his house at Raby. Thus they were

throwing down with their own hands the very bulwarks which should

prevent their falling helplessly into the power of Monk and his army.

Still more, they sent an order to Lambert's regiments to quit their

commander, and retire to such quarters as they appointed. The soldiers

having heard of their comrades in the south having gone over to the

Parliament, did not hesitate to obey its orders, and Lambert found

himself left alone with only about a hundred horse. At Northallerton

his officers took their leave of him with tears, and he retired quietly

to a house which he had in the country. Thus the expectation of a

sharp encounter between Monk and Lambert was at an end, and the road

was open to Monk to march to London without opposition.

He had received assurances from Lord Fairfax, that within twelve days

he would join him or perish in the attempt, and he forthwith called

together his friends, and demanded the surrender of York. On the 1st

of January, 1660, the gates of York were thrown open to Fairfax and

his followers, and the same day Monk commenced his march southward

from Coldstream. Monk remained five days at York in consultation with

Fairfax, who did not hesitate to avow his readiness to assist in the

restoration of the king. Clarendon tells us that Charles had sent Sir

Horatio Townsend to Fairfax, expressing confident hopes of Monk, and

requesting him to co-operate with him; and that Parliament had become

so apprehensive of him that before his arrival at York they wrote to

him, advising him to send back part of his forces, as being needless

now in England, while they might prevent danger in Scotland. Monk paid

no attention, and the Parliament began to wish him back in Scotland

altogether. But it does not appear that Monk in any way committed

himself to Fairfax by his words, whatever his conduct might indicate.

On the contrary, at York he caned an officer who charged him with a

design of bringing in Charles Stuart. On his quitting York Fairfax

disbanded his forces, and Monk pursued his march in the same mysterious

silence. Parliament had appointed a Council of State, and framed the

oath for its members to embrace a most stringent abjuration of royalty

and of the Stuart family. The soldiers sympathising with Parliament,

the officers on reaching Nottingham proposed signing an engagement

to obey Parliament in all things except the bringing in of Charles

Stuart. Monk declared this unnecessary, Parliament having expressed

itself so strongly on that head; and at Leicester he wrote a reply to

certain Royalist petitioners in Devonshire, stating his confidence that

monarchy could not be reintroduced, that the excluded members of 1648

could not be safely reinstated, and that it was their bounden duty to

obey and support the present Government.

At Leicester arrived two of the most democratic members of Parliament,

Scott and Robinson, to watch his proceedings, but ostensibly to do him

honour. He received them with all respect, and such was his apparent

devotion to Parliament, that they were thoroughly satisfied and highly

delighted. At every place he was met by addresses from towns and

counties, praying him to restore the excluded members, and procure a

full and free Parliament. He replied on all occasions that he was but

the servant of Parliament in a military capacity, and referred the

applicants to the two deputies for their answers. These gentlemen,

who were vehemently opposed to any such restoration of the excluded

members, gave very free denials, with which Monk did not in any way

interfere.

This conduct, we are assured by Clarendon, extremely confounded

Charles and his partisans, who had calculated greatly on Monk's secret

inclinations, but the dispersal of Lambert's forces, the retirement

of Fairfax, and the vigorous adherence of Monk to Parliament, puzzled

and depressed them. It might have been supposed that though Monk

had so impenetrably concealed his designs from the adherents of

the Commonwealth, that he had a secret understanding with Charles.

Clarendon, who was fully in the king's confidence, and his great

adviser, solemnly assures us that there was nothing of the kind; that

all attempts to arrive at his purpose had been unavailing. By the

consent of Charles, Monk's brother, a clergyman in Devonshire, had

been induced by Sir Hugh Pollard and Sir John Grenville, the king's

agents, to visit the general in the north, and endeavour to persuade

him to declare for the king. But Monk took him up very shortly, and

advised him to go home and come no more to him with such propositions.

To the last moment this secret and solemn man kept the same immovable,

impenetrable course. There is little doubt but that he felt, from

the miserable weakness and disunion of both the officers and the

Parliamentary leaders, the great all-controlling mind being gone,

that the king must come again, and that he was ready to do the work

at the safe moment. But that till he was positively certain the way

was clear of every obstacle, no power on earth should move him. It is

probable that he was indifferent to the fact whether the king or the

Parliament ruled, but that he would decide for the stronger when it was

unmistakably the stronger, and not till then.

To prevent alarm to the Parliament, he brought only five thousand

troops with him from York, being much fewer than those which were

quartered in London and Westminster; but from St. Albans on the 28th of

January he wrote to the Speaker, requesting that five of the regiments

there might be removed to other quarters before his arrival, lest there

should arise strife between his soldiers and those so lately engaged

in rebellion against the Parliament. This startled the Parliament,

and dull must those members have been who did not perceive that they

committed a series of gross blunders in destroying the greater part of

the army, and disbanding their best officers, to clear the stage for a

new master. But there was nothing for it but complying. They ordered

the regiments to remove, but they refused. Why, they asked, were they

to quit their quarters to make room for strangers? Was it expected

that they should march away with several weeks' pay in arrear? But

their officers, who should have supported them, were dismissed or under

restraint, and by coaxing and the distribution of some money, they were

induced to go. The greatest difficulty was found with a regiment which

occupied Somerset House, and declared they would hold it as a garrison

and defend it. But at length they, too, were persuaded to retire, and

the next day, the 3rd of February, Monk marched through the City into

the Strand and Westminster, where his soldiers were quartered, and

himself conducted to Whitehall.

Soon after his arrival Monk, was led to the House of Commons, where

a chair was placed for him within the bar, and Lenthall made him an

address, applauding his wisdom and services to the Commonwealth,

declaring his dispersal of their enemies as a glorious mercy, and

returning him thanks. Monk replied, observing that there were demands

for a full and free Parliament, but that while it was as well not

to impose too many oaths, care must be taken to keep out both the

Cavaliers and the fanatic party. Of course, the section of the fanatic

party already in the House, with Scott and Haselrig at their head,

heard this with resentment; and Monk's sincerity was immediately put

to the test by the oath of abjuration of the Stuarts, as a member of

the Council of State, being put to him. He parried this, by observing

that seven of the councillors already sitting had not taken the oath,

and that as for himself, he had given sufficient proofs of his devotion

to Parliament. This increased the suspicion against him, and a more

explicit proof of his sincerity was put upon him. The Common Council of

London had refused to raise money in the City except at the order of a

full and free Parliament. The House, therefore, commanded Monk to march

into the City to seize ten of the leading opponents in the Council, and

to break down the gates and portcullises of the City.

On the 9th of February, two hours after midnight, he received this

trying order. If he refused, his commission would be immediately

withdrawn, and his plans cut short; therefore he obeyed, and marching

into the City, began with all coolness and imperturbability to remove

the posts and chains from the streets. The citizens, who expected

different conduct from him, and entreated him to desist, assailed

his men during their labour with groans and hisses. The posts and

chains removed, Monk wrote to the Parliament that he considered that

sufficient had been done to crush the spirit of the citizens, but he

received a peremptory order to complete the business, which he did by

destroying the gates and portcullises, though the soldiers themselves

expressed their indignation. He then returned in no agreeable mood to

Whitehall. There, however, news awaited him of conduct on the part

of Parliament, which seemed to him to show that they now thought

that they had made him their pliant instrument, and destroyed at the

same time his popularity with the people. Whilst he had been doing

this ungracious work in the City, they had been receiving with high

approbation a petition from the so-called fanatic or extreme party,

headed by the celebrated Barebone, praying that no man might sit in

Parliament, or hold any office under Government, who did not take

the oath to abjure Charles Stuart, or any single person. This was so

plainly aimed at Monk, who had excused himself from this oath, that a

council of his officers was at once called, whose resentment of this

ungrateful conduct was expressed in a letter drawn up in his name,

and despatched to the House the next morning, complaining bitterly of

their allowing this attack upon him, and advising that they should take

immediate measures for filling up all the vacancies in Parliament, as

the only measure which would satisfy the people. To show that this was

not a mere admonition but a command, he instantly quitted Whitehall,

marched back into the City, summoned again the Common Council, which he

had dispersed, and assured them that the conduct of Parliament had now

convinced him that they were betraying the interests of the country,

that he was sorry he had obeyed them so far as to do injury to "that

famous city, which in all ages had been the bulwark of Parliament and

of general liberty;" and that therefore he had determined to unite his

lot with theirs, and to obtain through them a full and free Parliament.

This announcement was received not only with astonishment, but with

enthusiastic expressions of joy. The Lord Mayor and Council plighted

their troth with him and the officers, he was invited to dine at

the Guildhall, and all the bells in the City were set ringing in

exultation. The Corporation attended the general to his lodgings amid

the acclamations and the bonfires of the people, at which they roasted

rumps in ridicule of the Parliament, and heaped on it every infamy

which wit and ribaldry could devise. This _coup d'état_ awoke the

Parliament to their blunder; they had made an enemy of the very man and

army into whose hands they had put a power which could instantly crush

them. There were some zealots, the Haselrigs and Scotts, who advised

restoring Fleetwood to the chief command, and bringing back the exiled

regiments; but Sunday, which intervened, enabled the more sober counsel

to prevail, and they sent a deputation to invite the general to return

to Whitehall, and promised that the writs for the excluded members

should be ready by the day appointed. But these incidents had made an

advance in Monk's proceedings. He had seen, as he came up the country,

the universal demand for the restoration of the Long Parliament, and

the unmitigated contempt for the present one. He had felt the pulse

of the country also as to the return of the king, and his intercourse

with the City had only confirmed the impression that the whole body

of excluded members must come back as a stepping-stone to the recall

of Charles. The Presbyterian interest in the City was as strong as

ever, and its enmity to the Independents unabated. He therefore called

together his officers to discuss with the deputation the points at

issue, and the officers insisted that the excluded members must be

restored. Monk then placed the City in a state of defence, and returned

to Whitehall. There he summoned the excluded members who were in town,

together with the members of the sitting Parliament, and read them a

paper, in which he assured them that the people at large demanded a

full and free Parliament, as the only means of settling these "bleeding

nations." He declared that he would impose no restrictions on them

himself, but that his guards should freely admit all the excluded as

well as the other members, to take measures for a dissolution of the

present Parliament, and the calling of a new one, full and free, on

the 20th of April next. He did not believe, he said, that monarchy

or prelacy would be tolerated by the people, but that a moderate

Presbyterian government, with liberty of conscience, appeared most

likely to be acceptable. And as to the Peers, if it were not proper to

restore to them their House, yet he thought their hereditary marks of

honour should be left them.

This speech confounded Royalists and Extremists alike. He recommended

a Presbyterian government and the exclusion of monarchy; but he saw

well enough what the effect of his measure would be; the Royalist

excluded members would rush in, and the recall of the king would be

the inevitable consequence. Accordingly the excluded members proceeded

directly to the House with the other members. The guard under Sir

Anthony Ashley Cooper opened and admitted them. At this sight Haselrig,

Scott, and the Republican party thought it high time to consult their

own security, and disappeared from the scene. The House at once set to

work; annulled all the orders by which they had been excluded; elected

a new Council of State, in which the most influential members were

Royalists; appointed Monk Commander-in-Chief, and Commander of the

Fleet in conjunction with Montague; granted him twenty thousand pounds

in lieu of Hampton Court, which the Rump had settled on him; freed from

sequestration Sir George Booth and his associates, who had risen for

the king, together with a great number of Cavaliers and Scottish lords

taken at the Battle of Worcester; borrowed sixty thousand pounds of the

Common Council, established for the present the Presbyterian confession

of faith; ordered copies of the Solemn League and Covenant to be hung

up in all churches; placed the militia and all the chief commands in

the hands of the principal nobility and gentry; and only stipulated

that no person should be capable of office or command who did not

subscribe to the confession--"that the war raised by the two Houses of

Parliament against the late king was just and lawful, until such time

as force and violence were used upon the Parliament in the year 1648."

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE PAINTED CHAMBER, WESTMINSTER, LOOKING

EAST.]

But at this point it was contended by the Royalists that the House

of Lords was as much a House as themselves, and that they could not

legally summon a new Parliament without them; but Monk would listen to

nothing of this kind. He declared that as much had been conceded as the

country would bear; and the Parliament was compelled to dissolve itself

at the time fixed.

There could certainly be no longer any uncertainty as to whither things

were tending. The Royalists were again in full power all over the

kingdom, the very insurgents in the cause of Charles were liberated,

freed from all penalties, and in many cases advanced to places of

trust; yet Monk still dissembled. Ludlow, a staunch Republican, on the

re-admission of the excluded members, went to Monk to sound him as to

his intentions, and urged the necessity of supporting the Commonwealth,

which had cost them so much. Monk replied with solemn hypocrisy, "Yea,

we must live and die together for a Commonwealth." Yet Monk had now

made up his mind: he saw that all was prepared, all perfectly safe,

and during the recess he was busy arranging with the king's agents

for his return. Immediately on Monk's joyful reception by the City, a

Mr. Baillie, who had gone through Cheapside amongst the bonfires, and

heard the king's health drunk in various places, and people talking of

sending for the king, had posted off to Brussels, where Charles was. On

this Sir John Grenville and a Mr. Morrice, a Devonshire Royalist, were

instantly sent over to Monk, with propositions for the king's return.

Clarendon assures us that so early as the beginning of April these

gentlemen were in London, and in consultation with Monk, who told them

that if the king would write a letter to Parliament containing the same

statements, he would find a fit time to deliver it, or some other means

to serve his Majesty; but that Charles must quit Flanders to give his

partisans confidence that he was out of the power of the Spaniards, and

would be free to act on their call; that he must go to Breda, and date

his papers thence.

All this was done, and so little secrecy was observed by the Royalists

on the Continent, that it was immediately known at all the courts

that the king was about to be recalled, and Spaniards, Dutch, French

princes and ministers, who had treated Charles with the utmost neglect

and contempt, now overwhelmed him with compliments, invitations,

flatteries, and offers. The Dutch Court, where was his sister, the

mother of the young Stadtholder, had been as discourteous as the rest,

but they now united in receiving him and doing him honour. Breda

already swarmed with English Royalists, who flocked from every quarter

to pay their respects.

This was observed in England with a complacency which sufficiently

indicated that men's minds were made up to the restoration of the

monarchy. The ultra-Republican party alone, whose zeal never

condescended to measure the chances against them, endeavoured to

raise the soldiers to oppose the menaced catastrophe. The army had

on former occasions maintained the Commonwealth. The emissaries of

the Republicans, therefore, spread themselves everywhere amongst the

soldiers, warning them of the certainty of all their sacrifices,

their labours, and their victories being in vain if they did not once

more save the State. The old fire revived; the soldiers contemplated

the loss of their arrears if the Royalists came into power, the

officers the loss of their lands and their commands. They began

to express vehement discontent, and the officers flocked into the

capital and called on Monk to take measures for the maintenance of the

Commonwealth. He professed to be bound to that object, though he had

at the time in his pocket a commission from Charles constituting him

Lord-General of all the military in the three kingdoms. He ordered the

officers to return to their posts, and put an oath of obedience to the

Parliament to the privates--all who refused it being discharged.

Disappointed in this quarter, the Republicans managed to effect the

escape of Lambert, who had been committed to the Tower, and who now

appeared in Warwickshire, where he induced six troops of horse and some

infantry to accept his command. On the approach of General Ingoldsby,

however, who was sent against him, his troops deserted him, he was

captured, and conducted back to the Tower with every indignity.

On the 25th of April the new Parliament assembled; the Royalists showed

a decided majority, and though the Presbyterian party managed to carry

the election of Sir Harbottle Grimstone as Speaker, the Royalist

tendency was overwhelming as to the main objects. Ten of the Peers

assembled in their House, and elected the Earl of Manchester Speaker,

and on beholding this the rest of the Peers hurried up to town, and

soon there appeared a full House, excepting such Peers as had served in

the king's Parliament at Oxford, or whose patents dated subsequently to

the commencement of the civil war.

But all the interest was concentrated on the proceedings of the House

of Commons. On the 1st of May Sir John Grenville presented himself at

the door of the House, and requested to speak with the Lord-General.

Monk went to him, and received, as a matter of which he knew nothing,

a letter addressed to the Speaker. Looking at the seal, and affecting

to discover that it bore the royal arms, he ordered the guards to take

care that the bearer did not escape. Grenville was speedily called

in, and asked how he became possessed of this letter, and on replying

that he brought it from the king, he was ordered into custody as a

traitor. But here Monk interfered, saying that this was unnecessary;

he perceived that he was a kinsman of his, and would be security for

him. The letters were now opened, and proved to be really from the

king, one addressed to the Commons, another to the Lords, a third to

the Lord Mayor and Corporation, and the fourth to Monk and Montague,

lord-admirals. In the letter to the Commons Charles informed them that,

in the present unhappy circumstances of the nation, he recommended them

to consider whether the only way to restore peace and prosperity was

not to return to the ancient and time-honoured constitution of king,

Lords, and Commons, under whom the kingdom had flourished so many ages.

He professed that no man had a more profound veneration for Parliament

and its rights than himself, and that to convince them of it, he had

endorsed a declaration of his views, in which he had left everything to

their settlement.

This paper was the celebrated Declaration of Breda, to which the people

afterwards so often called Charles's attention, and which he took the

earliest opportunity to forget, and falsify by a return to all the

Stuart despotisms, oppressions, and persecutions. In this paper he

granted a free pardon to all who should accept it within forty days;

the confirmation of all estates and titles, and in religion "liberty

to tender consciences, and that no man should be disturbed or called

in question in any way regarding religion." But these promises "on the

word of a king" were rendered perfectly nugatory, by excepting such

persons and such measures as Parliament should in its wisdom see fit to

determine otherwise. This specious declaration, which had been drawn

up by Hyde, Ormond, and Nicholas, in fact secured nothing, for once in

power, a servile Parliament might undo everything, as it eventually

did. Prynne, who was in the House, pointed all this out, and warned

them that Charles had been too long under the counsels of his mother,

and too long in France and in Flanders--"the most Jesuited place in the

world"--to be in religion anything better than a Papist; that at best

he would be found only a Prelatist, and that his word had already been

proved, on various occasions, of no more value than his father's. The

Royalists, he said, would never cease instilling into him that the

Presbyterian religion, now the religion of the nation, had destroyed

his great-grandmother, tormented his grandfather, and put to death his

father; and that as certain as there was a restoration, there would be

a destruction of all the liberties of England, civil and religious.

The pious Sir Matthew Hale urged on them the necessity of some better

guarantee than this declaration of constitutional rights before they

readmitted the king.

But all warning was lost on the House: the crisis was come, Parliament

and nation seemed smitten with a sudden oblivion of their past miseries

and oppressions under the Stuarts, and every branch of the community

seemed impatient to be the first to put its neck once more under

their yoke, and under the foot of the most debauched, unprincipled,

and scandalous member which the family had ever seen. Instead of

sending Grenville to the Tower, the Commons voted him thanks and a

present of five hundred pounds. The Speaker, in communicating these

votes to Grenville, launched into the most extravagant terms of joy

on the prospect "of having their king again." The Commons drew up

a most glowing letter to his Majesty, in which they declared their

thankfulness to God for putting the thoughts of returning into the

king's mind, "to make him glorious in the eyes of his people;"

protesting that "the persons of their kings had always been dear unto

Parliaments," and that they "could not bear to think of that horrid

act committed against the precious life of their late king," and so

forth. They not only delivered this letter to Sir John Grenville, but

appointed twelve of their members to wait on his Majesty at the Hague.

The London Corporation were as enthusiastic and as profuse of their

proffered devotion; they presented Grenville with three hundred pounds,

also appointed some of their members to wait on the king, made haste to

erect the royal statue in Guildhall, and to pull down the arms of the

Commonwealth.

[Illustration: LANDING OF CHARLES II. AT DOVER. (_See p._ 165.)]

Montague had long been prepared to go over to the king on the first

opportunity; and lest he might seem to be sent by the Parliament, and

not by his own voluntary act, he set sail for the coast of Holland,

leaving Lawson to bring over the deputations going to his Majesty.

He lay to at Scheveling, and sent word to the king that his fleet

was at his command. The Duke of York, whom Charles had made admiral,

went on board, and was received with all respect and submission. Soon

after came up the other ships with six members of the Peers, twelve

of the Commons, fourteen from the City of London, and eight or ten

of the most popular ministers in London of the Presbyterian party,

including Reynolds, Calamy, Case, and Marten. These gentlemen entered

zealously on the hopeless task of endeavouring to persuade Charles

to leave their form of worship in the ascendant, and to abstain from

the use of the Common Prayer Book and the surplices; but they got no

further satisfaction than that he would leave all that to the wisdom

of Parliament. On the 24th of May he embarked at Scheveling, in the

_Naseby_, which the day before had been rechristened the _Royal

Charles_, the rest of the ships at the same time having doffed their

republican appellations of unpleasant memory, and assumed right royal

ones. On the 26th he landed at Dover, where, amid the thunder of

cannon, he was received by Monk at the head of a splendid assemblage

of the nobility and gentry. From Dover to Canterbury, and thence to

London, the journey was one triumphant procession. The crowds of gentry

and of shouting people presented only the aspect of a most loyal

nation, amongst whom it was hard to imagine that such a thing as a

Commonwealth had ever existed. On Blackheath Charles was received by

the army with acclamations. The Lord Mayor and Corporation invited him

to a splendid collation in a tent prepared for the purpose. All the way

to Whitehall, attended by the chief nobility and by his Life Guards,

and several regiments of cavalry, the houses being hung with tapestry,

and the windows crowded with applauding men and women, the king riding

between his two brothers, beheld nothing but an enthusiastic people.

When he dismissed the last of his congratulators from the hall where

his father perished, he turned to one of his confidants and said, "It

surely must have been my own fault that I did not come before, for I

have met no one to-day who did not protest that he always wished for my

restoration."