On Saturday the 23rd Dr. Gumble, chaplain to the Scotch commission, came over to Dalkeith, as he often did, to spend Sunday with the general and preach a sermon for Price. He was a staunch old Commonwealth man, who disapproved of the protectorate, but he was popular with the officers, highly esteemed by Monk, and so had kept his place. In him the perplexed general had a councillor who was above suspicion of Royalism. He took him into his confidence, put the whole case before him, and asked his advice. Gumble did not hesitate. He assured him that he had a higher duty than that which he owed to his paymasters. His country called to him to rescue her from the miserable plight to which the clique of visionaries and self-seeking politicians at Westminster had reduced her. It was his duty to obey the call. To a man of Monk's ardent patriotism such an argument could not appeal in vain. It was the argument which finally convinced him it was his duty to move. Once resolved he characteristically acted on the spot. While he himself went to ascertain the state of the Treasury, Gumble was despatched to Price's room to inform him he was to draw up a manifesto; and thence he proceeded to sound such officers as were to be trusted.
The manifesto took the form of a respectful letter to the Parliament, reminding them that they had not yet filled up their numbers nor passed any Electoral Bill, as the very name of Commonwealth required them, and hinting that the army could not in conscience protect their authority unless they forthwith remedied their neglect.
On Sunday evening after service those already in the secret assembled in Price's room to approve the manifesto. It was resolved that it should be presented to the army for signature, and the general proceeded to take precautions against a refusal. Captain Jonathan Smith, his adjutant-general, had been admitted to the secret conclave. Immediately the draft was settled Monk ordered this officer to ride to the commandants of the neighbouring garrisons, who were all men of the right stamp, explain to them the step that was to be taken, and induce them to adopt the necessary measures for preventing the sectaries giving trouble. The general then left the room. On the success of Smith's mission all depended. The army was full of doctrinaire politicians. The Government in London had been careful to draft as many as possible on to the Scotch establishment. These men disliked and suspected Monk, and he had to rely upon those who fought for their pay, by whom he was generally beloved. Smith did not lose a moment. He had already put on his boots, and was taking leave of the rest when the door opened and the general came into the room again. To every one's astonishment he ordered Smith not to go. He had resolved, he said, to wait the post in. By that time Lambert and Booth must have met, and it could do no harm to hear the result before they moved.
No one ventured to demur then, but Price presently followed him from his room. He found him in earnest conversation with his master of the greyhounds, one Kerr of Gradane, one of Montrose's men, in whom Monk took an interest that his love of coursing would hardly explain. Price knew he had some other and more secret designs to back his enterprise, and afterwards Monk told him he had been ready to commission the whole Scottish nation to rise. There can be little doubt that through Kerr he was twisting another string for his bow as strong and trustworthy as the first. "Old George" was not a man to do things by halves.
Price waited till the conversation was done and Kerr was out of hearing, and then he began to press the general to allow Smith to start. Monk was anxious and excited. For the first time in his life his military conscience was not clear, and Price's importunity irritated him past bearing. Turning on him fiercely he seized him by the shoulders. "What, Mr. Price," said he, "will you then bring my neck to the block for the King, and ruin our whole design by engaging too rashly?"—"Sir," protested the astonished chaplain, "I never named the King to you either now or at any other time."—"Well," replied the general, "I know you have not. But I know you, and have understood your meaning."
It was on this conversation, as Price relates it, that Monk's biographers rely to prove their case that he intended the return of the King from the first. But there can be no doubt that what he said was to get rid of Price by letting him clearly know he saw through him, and had no intention of risking his head or spoiling the patriotic enterprise in which he was engaged for the sake of a Stuart.
At any rate it left Monk in peace. No move was made that night, and early on Monday morning came the startling news that Lambert had crushed Booth's rising at a blow. Once more the confederates met, burned the manifesto, renewed their oaths of secrecy, and thanked Heaven for the narrow escape they had had.
Monk's feelings vented themselves in anger against his brother and Grenville. He felt he had been deceived and entrapped into a plot which had no more bottom than the rest. He angrily told poor Nicholas to go back to his books and meddle no more in conspiracy. He charged him with a similar sharp message to his young cousin, and swore if either of them ever revealed what had passed he would do his best to ruin them both. The affair seems to have been even a greater shock to Mrs. Monk. Price hints that she conceived a sudden antipathy for the King's cause, and lived in terror that her husband would be induced sooner or later to engage in it. She lost no opportunity of proclaiming that she and her son Kit were for the Long Parliament and the "good old cause," and she began again to urge Monk to retire and live in Ireland. The general lent a willing ear. The cashiering of his officers continued. Lambert and the Rump seemed determined to pull together, and every one thought the Government had a new lease of life. Monk knew some attempt would soon be made to displace him, and as he now had less inclination to retain his post than ever he resolved to seize the opportunity of tendering his resignation on the ground of ill-health and long service. He was certainly in earnest. Thrifty Mrs. Monk bought a number of trunks to pack up the household effects, and, contrary to his usual custom, the general wrote direct to the Speaker. Nicholas fortunately warned Clarges that the letter had gone. Clarges managed to get hold of it, took it himself to Lenthal, and in concert with him cleverly arranged not to have it presented to the House for some days; for the commissary had news for his brother-in-law by which he believed he could induce him to reconsider his determination.