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.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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.

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