Born, 1608. Died, 1670. A younger son of Thomas Monk, of Potheridge, Devon. When only seventeen, in consequence of a domestic quarrel, where (says the Biographie Universelle) “par excès d’amour filial, il maltraita le sous-sheriff d’Exeter,” he went to sea, and afterwards served under the Duke of Buckingham. In 1629, he entered one of the English regiments in Holland, where he studied the art of war, with great diligence, and was remarkable for his steadiness, and for the discipline, he maintained among the soldiers, treating them at the same time with great kindness. In 1639, he returned to England. When Charles I., was embarked in that unfortunate war with Scotland, which was the forerunner of terrible disasters, Monk, as Lieutenant-Colonel of artillery, displayed much skill, and courage, though both proved useless; and he then went to Ireland on promotion. Here he did considerable service, was made Governor of Dublin, but Parliament intervening, he was superseded in the office, and on the conclusion of a truce (by the King’s commands) with the Irish rebels, he returned to England. On his arrival he found that doubts of his fidelity had been instilled into Charles’s mind; but joining that monarch at Oxford, he soon dispelled them, was promoted to the rank of Major-General, and sent to relieve Sandwich, where he was taken prisoner, and thence committed to the Tower by the Roundheads.
His captivity lasted two years, during which time he rejected all overtures, made him by the Protector, and occupied his leisure hours in noting down his observations on military, and political subjects. Cromwell entertained a high opinion of Monk as a soldier, and he offered him the alternative of prolonged imprisonment, or a command in the Parliamentary army, to march against O’Neill, the Irish rebel. Monk accepted the latter, and behaved in this expedition with his usual courage, and determination; but he was ill-supported by the Government at home, who, as we are told, “had too many irons in the fire,” to attend to the Irish war. He was reluctantly compelled to sign a treaty with O’Neill, for which proceeding he was called to account, on his return to England. But the Protector considered his services necessary, and despatched him in command to Scotland, where he again saw much service. Yet in Oliver’s mind there lurked suspicions of Monk’s fidelity; and not long before his death, he wrote to the General saying: “There be that tell me, there is a certain cunning fellow in Scotland, called George Monk, who is said to lie in wait there, to introduce Charles Stuart; I pray you use your diligence to apprehend him, and send him up to me.”
Monk’s proceedings from this time, form part of history, and the share he took in the restoration of Charles II., is too well known to be repeated here. Charles called him his father, invested him with the Order of the Garter, created him Duke of Albemarle, Earl of Torrington, and Baron Monk, and appointed him Lieutenant-General of the Forces of the United Kingdom, with a large income.
In 1653, he married (or acknowledged his marriage with) Anne, daughter of John Clargis, who had long resided under his roof: “A lady,” says Guizot, “whose manners were more vulgar, and less simple, than those of her husband, and who was the laughing-stock, of a witty and satirical court.”
The French historian speaks disparagingly of the great general, but in the time of the Plague, when the court, and ministers left London, the Duke remained to watch over the necessities of the wretched inhabitants, to save families from pillage, and to alleviate the sufferings of the poor.
He was afloat in joint command of the fleet with Prince Rupert, when the Great Fire occurred, and the general cry was: “Ah, if old George had been here, this would not have happened.” He died in his sixty-second year, leaving an enormous fortune to his spendthrift son Christopher, (who died without children), and was buried in Westminster Abbey with great splendour, Charles II. attending his obsequies.
Guizot says: “C’étoit un homme capable de grandes choses, quoiqu’il n’eût pas de grandeur dans l’âme.” His jealousy of his noble colleague Lord Sandwich, bears out the French historian’s Opinion, in some measure.
In his last illness, he was much occupied with arranging the alliance of his surviving son, Christopher, (the death of the elder had been a terrible blow to him) with the heiress of the wealthy Duke of Newcastle. The nuptials were celebrated in his own chamber, and a few days afterwards, George Monk, Duke of Albemarle, expired in his arm-chair, without a groan.