For some time past the general had had confidential consultations with the leaders of the various parties, with a view apparently of finding a common ground on which a settlement might be made when the new Parliament met. Lenthal, for whose ripe experience Monk seems to have had a high regard, had suggested as the terms that would be most satisfactory to the country, a general amnesty, the confirmation of the land-titles, and liberty of conscience. These the general now determined to make the basis of negotiation, and when Grenville returned the following evening he found them incorporated in a pithy memorandum. An urgent appeal to the King to leave Brussels for some place in Holland was added, and a strict caution to Grenville that he was not to ask for any reward for the service Monk was doing. After reading over these instructions to his cousin several times till he had them by heart, the general threw the paper into the fire. With final orders not to leave Charles till he was out of Spanish territory, and not even to treat of a reward, Grenville was dismissed, and left London the same night. Thus it was that when the letter of the Presbyterians surprised the exultant exiles in the act of preparing an answer to the general's message of salvation, the King only laughed, and said, "I perceive that these people do not know that I and General Monk stand on much better terms."
Charles at once acted on the general's advice, and after seeing him safely upon Dutch soil, Grenville on April 4th hastened back with a dangerous burden. Besides official letters for the two Houses of Parliament, the Council, the army, and the city, each containing a copy of the famous Declaration from Breda, he carried an autograph letter from the King to the general, together with a commission for him to be Captain-General of the Three Kingdoms, and a signet and seal for a Secretary of State, to be delivered to whomsoever the general chose. The letter Monk accepted, but he had still enough of the true soldier of fortune in him to refuse a commission incompatible with the one he held. Nor would he take the seals, but told Grenville to hide himself and his papers till Parliament met, and then act according to his instructions.
The few Royalists who were in the secret were already in a state of ecstasy. Mordaunt, who had been working successfully in other quarters, had written over that nothing could now stop the King's return but an attempt by Lambert on the Council or Monk. Fortunately Lambert was in the Tower, but nevertheless the danger was great. As the designs of the Presbyterians became known the army grew more and more restless. Agitators began to persuade them they were to be cheated out of land, arrears, and all the long struggle had won them. Monk saw his regiments must be still further purged. To effect this Charles Howard of Naworth, who commanded his bodyguard, together with Ashley Cooper and the old Coldstreamers, prepared a petition to him that every officer should be required, in view of the insubordinate spirit that was arising, to sign an engagement to be true to the Government as it was then constituted. The precaution was taken none too soon. A few days after Grenville's return a letter was intercepted disclosing a conspiracy of Anarchists and extreme Republicans as formidable as any with which Cromwell had had to contend. It was written from Wales by Desborough, the most formidable of the Fanatics, to a partisan in the city. The idea involved the destruction of Charles and his brothers as well as of Monk, and early in May the Fanatics were to rise in Wales, seize all the towns on the Marches, and set up the Long Parliament at Shrewsbury. By this masterly move they hoped to attract the Presbyterians, whom they had been careful to make jealous of the Cavaliers. Already it appeared they had the support of the Jesuits, who, as Monk knew very well, were always ready to join hands with Independency. Till all was ready the army was to be kept in a state of ferment and distrust of its leaders, and the new House was to have "bones to pick," so as to prevent the possibility of any decided step being taken towards the King's recall. Vane was to lead the insurrection, and Haslerig's support was expected. Already the city had quarrelled with the Presbyterian leaders. Other signs of the conspirators' work appeared, and Monk and the Council were taking their precautions when suddenly the danger was doubled. On April 11th (or 10th), after Colonel Howard had presented the officers' petition to the general, like a thunderclap came the news that Lambert had escaped from the Tower.
It was at such a moment that Monk was greatest. Small as was his opinion of his rival as a soldier, he knew Lambert was looked upon by the malcontents of the army as their champion. It was a name to conjure with, and the Fanatics had got the one thing wanting, a man the soldiers would follow. Monk acted with all his old energy. Arrests were made right and left. The new Engagement was presented to all the regiments, and every officer who refused to sign was cashiered. Morgan was reinforced in Scotland and the city militia mobilised. Still the work had only begun. Lambert, after narrowly escaping arrest in the city, got away into the country. The expected desertions began, and Monk ordered the Engagement to be signed by rank and file as well as officers. Whole troops and companies refused, and whole troops and companies were disarmed and broken. As fast as one regiment was sound it was despatched to remodel another; but hardly was the operation complete than intelligence came that Lambert had appeared in arms in the western Midlands. Instantly Colonels Howard and Ingoldsby—daring Dick Ingoldsby, Cromwell's favourite sabreur, "who could neither pray nor preach"—were hurried with two flying columns to the scene of action; but that was not all. Monk was not a man to do things by halves. The events of the next week it was impossible to foretell; he could only prepare for the worst. By the elections the country had already declared for the King, and, determined at all costs to save it from Lambert and the Fanatics, Monk sent for Sir John Grenville. He told him that if the rising were not immediately crushed the army might revolt at any time. "In that case," he continued, "I shall publish my commission from the King, and raise all the royal party of the three nations." Sir John was instructed to hold himself in readiness to convey the necessary orders to the leading Cavaliers, and that night his brother Barnard was speeding towards Holland with the general's warning to the King.
Monk's heroic remedy was destined to be untried. His energy had once more saved the country from civil war. On Easter Tuesday, six days after the alarm was given, a grand review of the mobilised trained-bands was held in Hyde Park. From ten thousand throats the great Royalist reaction found voice. Many cheered for the King openly; the auxiliaries drank his health on their knees; George Monk was the darling of the hour. As though nothing should be wanting from his triumph, when the enthusiasm was at its highest a party of travel-stained horse was seen moving along the outskirts of the park. Right under the gallows at Tyburn they passed, and a new shout rent the air; for in their midst rode Lambert with swordless scabbard.
His attempt was premature, and had been crushed at a blow. Pistol in hand, Dick Ingoldsby had ridden him down as he galloped from the field; but the great conspiracy was practically untouched. Desborough's agents redoubled their activity. Monk's officers, sensible of the danger, came to beg him to proclaim the King at once before Parliament met, and so win the whole glory for himself and the army. But even the stirring scene in the park could not shake his splendid self-control. He quietly reminded them of their oft-expressed determination to keep the military power in obedience to the civil, and of the Engagement they had so recently signed. What they proposed, he said, was treason, and so he dismissed them.
In spite of the danger which still threatened from the Parliamentary delays, which he knew the Fanatics were fostering, he was determined to proceed in a constitutional manner, and he arranged with his cousin, Charles's accredited agent, the exact method of procedure. Parliament met quietly on the 25th. Monk took his seat for Devon, having elected to sit for his native county in preference to Cambridge University by which he had been also returned. The Commons next day passed the general a vote of thanks for his unparalleled services in having conquered the enemies of Church and State without so much as "a bloody nose." The few Presbyterian Lords who had met uninvited and unresisted did the same, and Monk in his acknowledgment bluntly begged them to look forward and not backward in transacting affairs, a hint they were careful to take. While this was going on in Parliament Sir John Grenville presented himself at the Council-chamber and asked to see the lord-general. Monk came out and received from his cousin's hands as from a stranger an official letter addressed "To our trusty and well-beloved General Monk, to be by him communicated to the President and Council of State, and to the officers of the armies under his command." Monk at once ordered his guards to detain the messenger and returned to the Council-chamber. There he broke the seal and handed the letter unread to the president. The surprise was complete. No one but Morice had an idea of what had been going on. Still it was clear that the letter came from Charles, and after some debate it was resolved that without being read it should be presented to Parliament on May 1st, the day they had fixed for the business of the settlement of the nation. Meanwhile Grenville was to be placed under arrest, but the general interposed, saying that although a stranger he was a near kinsman of his own, and that he would be responsible for his appearance at the bar.
But it was not intended that Grenville should wait for the summons. So soon as the Houses met he attended, and sprung upon them the official letters he had for each. In the Commons Morice was on his feet before the House could recover its breath, and moved that the constitutional government of the country was by King, Lords, and Commons. The motion was carried in a rush of enthusiasm, and Monk asked leave to communicate the King's despatch to the army. It was granted. Similar votes were passed in the Lords, and the Commonwealth was constitutionally at an end. At a subsequent sitting, however, the House came a little more to its senses. Sir Matthew Hale rose to move for a committee to inquire what terms had been offered to the late King. Monk saw, or thought he saw, the cloven hoof of the Sectaries. Here was one of the "bones to pick" which he knew they meant to provide. He rose to his feet immediately and solemnly warned the House not to presume on the apparent quiet of the country. Incendiaries, he said, were on the watch for a place to raise a flame: he had full information, which it was not expedient to make public; but he could not answer for the army or undertake to preserve order if the King were not sent for at once. There is no reason to doubt not only that he believed what he said, but that it was really true, and that the Sectaries and Republicans were fast loosening his grip on the troops. Relying on Charles's promises to himself, he saw no danger in his unconditional return, for, as he went on to point out to the House, without troops or money the King would be at their mercy. He concluded by moving that commissioners should be immediately sent to invite Charles to England; "And the blood be on the head of him," he cried, "who delays the settlement."[10]
His words were greeted with a thunder of applause. The old constitutionalists saw that Monk's appeal was irresistible, and in the excitement of the moment vote after vote was passed that went beyond the most extravagant hopes of the most sanguine Cavalier. The Revolution was at an end, and the lord-general's lady proceeded to herald the new era by frankly turning to her old trade and purchasing a stock of linen at wholesale prices on the King's account for Whitehall.
The rapid transformation that followed is a matter of history. Both France and Spain saw the victim of their long intrigues suddenly snatched from their grasp, and each made desperate efforts to coax him back into its power. All their blandishments were in vain. Monk had succeeded in his resolve that if the King came back it should be without entangling the country in any engagements with foreign powers. Mazarin and De Haro had been completely outwitted by the dull soldier, and the cardinal died of vexation, it used to be said, in the following year.