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. 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." 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.

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. 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. 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.

Chapter XXX.
Charles II. (1660-1685).

The monarchy of the Stuarts had, on the whole, regained possession of the throne unconditionally and without striking a blow. The English nation, with a few exceptions, gave itself up to joy and hope. It was necessary, however, to govern, and the difficulties which presented themselves at the first glance were considerable. Charles II. ruled, evading or cutting the knot of the difficulties which opposed his progress in many ways, and with the support of men of profoundly different characters. The nation accepted him blindly, voluntarily embracing illusions respecting the monarch whom she had chosen out of regard for the monarchical principle, and from weariness of revolutionary shocks. As it became possible to judge of the principles, or rather the lack of all principles, which characterized him, a gradual estrangement set in. The history of the reign of Charles II. presents the spectacle, more flagrant day by day, of the defects and vices of the government as well as of the reaction which at the same time was at work within the nation. Three periods may be noted in the history of that decline in the joyous illusions of the English people—three different conditions of the people as of the government during the reign of King Charles II. First, the constitutional and legal régime under the ministry of Lord Clarendon (1660-1667); secondly, the government of intriguing and corrupt statesmen under the rule of the Cabal (1667-1674) thirdly, the epoch of conspiracies for changing the succession to the throne, the ministries of coalition and compromise: the attempts at arbitrary government and the great political trials, until the death of the king (1674-1685).