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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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.

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."