Chapter XXIX (2)

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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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