Lambert confronted by Colonel Morley.
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. 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. "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.
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? 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.