Without giving his leaderless regiment a moment to think Monk followed up the blow with a pithy and soldier-like speech, asking them if they thought it right for the Scotch army to submit to the insolent extravagancies of the home forces. "For my own part," he cried, "I think myself obliged by the duty of my place to keep the military power in obedience to the civil. Since we have received our pay and commissions from the Parliament it is our duty to defend them. In this I expect the ready obedience of you all. But if any do declare their dissent to my resolution, they shall have liberty to leave the service, and may take their passes to be gone."
A thundering shout greeted his words. Not a man was there but cried with wild enthusiasm he would live and die for "old George." Edinburgh was won, but the day's work was not yet over. As he left the parade-ground a despatch was put into his hand. It was from his friend Colonel Myers, the governor of Berwick. The key of the London road was of the first importance to Monk, and Myers declared he could not hold it against the numerous Anabaptist officers in his command. Monk immediately ordered a troop of horse to his assistance; but a new difficulty arose. Berwick was forty miles away. Not a trooper was in Edinburgh who had not ridden twenty that day. The roads were deep in mire, and every one declared the march impossible. It was a word Monk did not often listen to. The march must be made. The general appealed to Johnson as he only knew how, and as the night fell the captain and his troop were spurring for the Border through the Nether Bow Port.
Monk's drastic proceedings at Edinburgh were but a type of what happened all over Scotland. By the time he had in person secured and purged Leith and Linlithgow, messengers began to pour into headquarters to report that everywhere his promptitude had paralysed resistance. Every garrison was in his hands and every high-road was resounding with the tramp of the troops he had ordered to concentrate on Edinburgh. There, too, Colonel Cobbett arrived a prisoner. It was Johnson's offering to his general. It had been the first act of the Committee of Safety to send up the colonel post-haste to secure not only Berwick, but the Scotch army as well, and to arrest Monk if he objected. A few hours before he reached the Border Johnson's exhausted troop had toiled into Berwick, and Cobbett arrived to find himself a prisoner.
Monk had now time to breathe. On the 20th the post was allowed to go, and with it went three official letters from the general. One was to the Speaker, laconically informing him that the Scotch army was at the service of the Parliament if it were still under restraint, and that in accordance with his new commission he had cashiered such officers as would not recognise its authority. "I do call God to witness," he concluded, "that the asserting of a Commonwealth is the only intent of my heart, and I desire if possible to avoid the shedding of blood, and therefore entreat you that there may be a good understanding between Parliament and army. But if they will not obey your commands I will not desert you according to my duty and promise."
In the same strain he wrote to Fleetwood imploring him to restore the Parliament. "Otherwise," he says, "I am resolved by the assistance of God, with this army under my command, to declare for them and prosecute this just cause to the last drop of my blood.... I do plainly assure your lordship I was never better satisfied with the justice of any engagement than in this.... I desire your lordship not to be deluded by the specious pretences of any ambitious person whatever." He speaks pathetically of his shame to see his country the scorn of Europe, and again calls God to witness he has no other end than the Restoration of parliamentary authority, "and those good laws which our ancestors have purchased with so much blood.... And I take myself so far obliged, being in the Parliament's service, to stand though alone in this quarrel."
The third letter was to Lambert. He was "the ambitious person" on whom Monk had his eye; and short and sharp as the letter was, he was careful to let his old rival know that he suspected him of aiming at a dictatorship. He repeated his determination to stand by the evicted Parliament; "for, sir," he concluded, "the nature of England will not endure any arbitrary power, neither will any true Englishman in the army, so that such a design will be ruinous and destructive. Therefore I do earnestly entreat you that we may not be a scorn to all the world and a prey to our enemies, that the Parliament may be speedily restored to their freedom which they enjoyed on the 11th of this instant."
These plain-spoken letters fell like thunderbolts amongst the London officers. Fleetwood, Lambert, and Desborough met at Whitehall in consternation. With the short-sighted conceit of second-rate men they had practically omitted Monk from their calculations. They had mistaken his modest ambitions for indifference. The Quixotic loyalty which had made him submit to the insolent orders of the war-office while Parliament was sitting, they had taken for stupidity. Now with the suddenness of a dream this despised soldier of fortune, this exalted drill-sergeant, as they thought him, towered like a giant before them as the three politicians sat together astounded. Midnight struck, and with the madness of doomed men they sent for Clarges. The result of the interview with Monk's subtle agent was that he and Colonel Talbot were ordered to start for Scotland within three hours to invite Monk to agree to an armistice preliminary to settling their quarrel by a treaty.
Their action was none too prompt. They knew well enough what to expect when Monk had once declared. We know the importance he attached to the first rapid moves of a campaign. Lambert at least was aware of his methods, and knew he would not waste a moment. Nor did he. No sooner were the Scotch garrisons safe than a party of horse was sent to secure Carlisle, and a small mixed column was pushed forward from Berwick to surprise Newcastle. The attempt on Carlisle failed, through the incompetency of the officer in command. The Newcastle column came to a halt at Morpeth. Colonel Lilburne, the man whom Monk had superseded in Scotland, and who was now in command of the northern district, had thrown himself with a strong reinforcement into the threatened town. Determined to avoid a conflict till he was ready, Monk ordered a retreat to Alnwick.
As it happened, no accident could have been more fortunate for the success of Monk's designs. Had he taken Newcastle, in a week it would have been besieged by Lambert and Monk could not have moved to its relief. Owing to the weather the Scotch army was concentrating with exasperating slowness, and insubordination was by no means at an end. Wholesale desertions began to take place. Men were whispering that the general "had the King in his belly." To stop their mouths he convened a permanent Council of War and committed to it the whole of his correspondence. He used the press freely, and printed all his official letters. But difficulties seemed to grow every day. The armies of England and Ireland refused to join him, and the fleet followed their example. In the midst of his perplexities Clarges arrived at Edinburgh, and showed him where his escape lay. The Treasury in London was empty; Monk's was overflowing. Lambert must place his troops at free quarters, and pay them with plunder. It was a mere matter of time for the whole country to turn against him, and for his army to melt away piecemeal. Immediate action was Lambert's only game. Every day he must grow weaker, while Monk was ever gathering new strength as troop after troop and company after company marched into Edinburgh from the Highlands.
In negotiation Monk saw the delay he needed. His Council of War, being thoroughly averse to fighting their comrades who had bled for the old cause, embraced the idea with enthusiasm, and a commission, consisting of three colonels whom Monk trusted, was appointed to treat with the Committee of Safety. A warm debate took place over the bases of negotiation. The Council were inclined to ask for a new Parliament. Monk insisted on the restoration of his masters, nor would he consent to the counter-proposition unless it were made contingent on the refusal of the Rump to sit. Not content with this, he gave the commissioners secret instructions before they left not to disclose their power to treat for a new Parliament till the last moment. For he well knew that Fleetwood and Lambert would never agree to restore the Rump if there was a possibility of a settlement on any other terms. Having thus very cleverly thrown back the onus of a civil war on Lambert, while at the same time he had done his strict duty to his commission and his best to prolong the negotiations, Monk agreed to an armistice, and allowed the commission to depart.