Life of Edward Earl of Clarendon — Volume 02

by Sir Henry Craik

During the autumn matters had moved forward in England. Lambert had strengthened his hold upon the army, and now pressed its authority more urgently upon the discredited Parliament. He demanded that Fleetwood (whose weakness made him an easy tool) should be General, and that he himself should be Major-General. The Parliament, under the leading of Hazlerigg and Vane, still resisted his claims, and attempted to defy him. Their resistance was easily overcome. Lambert met Lenthall, the Speaker, on his way to the House, compelled him to return home, and by main force closed the Parliament. In its place was established a Committee of Safety of twenty-three members, to which the administration was entrusted. Besides officers of the army and some London citizens, certain representatives of the Parliament were granted seats upon it. Lambert seemed, for the moment, to be completely master of the situation, and the Royalists conceived hopes that they might secure for their own cause the assistance of the leaders of the army. Fleetwood, however, lost his head, and would not act without the permission of Lambert. In December he escaped from responsibility by resigning his commission. Lambert would have been a stouter ally; and overtures seem to have been made that he should declare for the King, and that his daughter should be the wife of Charles. Such proposals met with no encouragement from Hyde, and were quietly dropped. Once more Lenthall, and the remnant of Parliament which he represented, recovered their courage and showed some energy. They met again on December 12th, and were able to assert their authority enough to cashier some of the officers, and commit Lambert to the Tower. Such was the position when Charles returned to Brussels with the scanty fruits of his mission to Fontarabia. It looked as if once more that Rump Parliament, which had crushed the monarchy and abolished the House of Lords, was master of the situation. To one watching events from a distance like Hyde, parties and persons must have appeared to chase one another in a bewildering dance, like antic figures reflected on a screen.

[Illustration: GEORGE MONK, DUKE OF ALBEMARLE (From the original by Sir
Peter Lely, in the National Portrait Gallery)]

Then it was that there came forward on the scene the man who, under the guidance of circumstances rather than of any fixed line of policy, was to be the main instrument of the restoration of the King. General Monk [Footnote: George Monk was born in 1608, and very early sought his fortune in war abroad, where he showed conspicuous bravery. In 1629 he served for a time with the Dutch; but came back to England when the army was levied in 1639 to act against the Scots. He was afterwards employed against the Irish rebels, but joined the King at Oxford, and when fighting in the Royalist ranks was taken prisoner, and committed by Parliament to the Tower. He was afterwards released to serve in Ireland, apparently with no settled purpose of deserting the Royalist cause. He served there long, and in 1650 went with Cromwell to Scotland, commanding a new regiment, which afterwards became the Coldstream Guards. From that time he became the close friend of Cromwell, and at one time commanded the fleet in some successful actions against Van Tromp. In the later years of the Commonwealth the Government of Scotland was virtually in his hands. His military powers were far greater than his discernment or capacity as a statesman. His wife was the daughter of John Clarges, a farrier in the Savoy, and, to a reputation that was none of the most savoury, added the manners of a kitchen-maid and a slut, and the avarice of a usurer. Her brother, who was an apothecary, became employed through the influence of Monk. He carried over to Charles the flattering message from Parliament in May, 1660, and was then knighted. As Sir John Clarges, he had a long and active Parliamentary career, and did not die till 1695.] was now supreme in Scotland, where Cromwell had placed him in command. Parliament looked to him as the only possible counterpoise to Lambert. Hyde placed no great reliance upon him, and shrewdly judged that he was one whose actions would be governed by events rather than one whose foresight and initiative would direct the progress of those events. He had abundant military experience, was a competent commander, and not only by family tradition, but by his own early action in the war, he was judged to be no obstinate enemy to the royal cause. But long association with Cromwell had committed him, to all appearance, indissolubly to the opposite cause; and, if he had no political prescience, he was, nevertheless, eminently cautious, and was not liable to be led astray by any fervent attachment to special views either in politics or religion. His wife, who was a coarse and low-born drudge, was guided by the fervour of her Presbyterian advisers; but her religious zeal had no influence over the calmer temper of her husband. At a juncture like the present it required no abnormal sagacity to convince Monk that the only possible course open to him was that of impenetrable secrecy as to his designs—even had he been more certain himself as to what these designs might be. With admirable deliberation—for intellectual dulness, on rare occasions, can assume the aspect of Machiavellian design —he laid his plans for a non-committal policy. He made himself safe in Scotland by inducing the Scottish Parliament to give him a considerable grant of money, and by leaving behind him a sufficient portion of his army to maintain a firm hold on the Government there. With a moderate force of about 5000 men, he slowly advanced towards London. Parliament had invited him; but they soon saw that Monk was not likely to be their obedient servant, and would fain have induced him to return. Monk none the less advanced; but it was with the utmost deliberation and circumspection, crossing no Rubicon, and breaking no bridge behind him. No word in favour of a royal restoration passed his lips. He frowned on all who ventured to suggest such a course. At each stage in his advance he pronounced, with edifying conviction, his determination to maintain the authority of Parliament; and if the announcement bore also the condition that the Parliament should be free, that was a condition to which none could fairly object, and which did not seem to lessen the soundness of Monk's Republicanism. If his sphinx-like attitude proceeded more from inability to discern the line of least resistance, than from conscious dissimulation, or any deliberate concealment of a far-seeing policy, it nevertheless was pursued with much adroitness, and no other course of action could have enabled Monk to accomplish all he did. It was this which secured for him an apparently grateful and cordial reception from the Parliament, although it dreaded his presence, and would gladly have heard that he had begun his march back to Scotland. He arrived in London early in February; and his unwilling hosts had no alternative but to bow to an outwardly friendly authority which they had no means of resisting.

In the whole proceedings, from this time forward, there is a distinct element of comedy, which comes as a welcome relief after the long tragedy of Hyde's narrative, and which, even though he wrote it looking back over an interval of checkered years, is apparent in the altered tone of that narrative. Monk had marched slowly on the capital. When he arrived at St. Albans, he halted there, and sent to Parliament to represent the inconvenience that might arise from the presence of troops that had proved unfaithful, and to ask for their removal. There was nothing for it but to obey. Even this was not easy, because the discarded troops proved restive and were on the point of mutiny. But their officers had disappeared, and they were at length persuaded to leave the City clear for Monk's approach. When that was arranged, he marched through the City and the Strand to Westminster, and took up his appointed quarters at Whitehall. He was received in the House of Parliament with every honour. The man whose intentions they more than suspected, and whose presence they would gladly have dispensed with, was told that he was a public benefactor whose happy intervention had saved the State. "His memory would flourish to all ages," and Parliament would ever be grateful for his support in time of need.

"The general was not a man of eloquence, or of any volubility of speech," But he assured them of his unalterable fidelity. He told them of the addresses that had reached him at every stage of his southern march, and of the general desire "for a free Parliament." As that was just what they were not, the avowed profession of his ardent agreement with this desire, however constitutional, was hardly fitted to remove their uneasiness. They were in the utmost straits for money. The exchequer was empty, and their authority was not sufficient effectively to impose taxation. They demanded advances from the City, and were roughly told that no advances would be made except on the authority of a freely elected House. Would Monk support them in this contest? He was asked to march into the City, to restore order, and, as a sign of it, to destroy the ancient city gates. So far Monk seemed to comply with the demands of his nominal masters. He overawed the citizens, and executed the orders of the Parliament upon their portcullises and gates. For the moment Parliament conceived its authority to be vindicated. But with singular folly they accepted, with favour, an absurd petition from Praise-God Barebone and his friends, who inveighed against all who would question the power of the Rump Parliament, and pressed for stern measures on all who presumed so much as to name the restoration of the King, or who would not abjure any Government in the hands of a single person. This roused the keen animosity of the officers, and decided them to press on Monk an alteration of his course. Once more he visited the City; but this time not as an enemy, but as a friend. In good round terms he rated the Parliament for countenancing the wild ravings of a dangerous rabble. He demanded that by a certain date they should issue writs for a free Parliament and bring their own sittings to an end. Their hopes were at once scattered to the winds; and in the wild tumult of bonfires and rejoicings with which Monk's declaration was celebrated in the City, they saw the death-knell of their own power. In the licence of recovered liberty many toasted the King's health, and there was none to say them nay.

Monk returned to Whitehall, and summoning some of the members to his presence, he delivered to them in writing his views—equivalent to his commands—as to the course which must be followed. He pointed out how all Government was now subverted, and how necessary it was that it should be repaired. He indicated his preference for a Commonwealth, and saw in a moderate Presbyterianism the most promising religious settlement. But, in truth, these were only hints as to the future; the immediate matter was the issue of writs for a new Parliament which should decide as to the ultimate arrangement. Only he was careful to give no sign of any readiness to restore the King. At this stage, that might have proved a compromising definition of his intentions.

The first step was to restore to their places in Parliament all who had been excluded in 1648 by Colonel Pride. On February 21st, all those who remained of the Long Parliament once more assembled at Westminster, and the majority soon reversed the action of the Rump. Military commands were taken from the sectarian fanatics, and replaced in the hands of men of station throughout the land. Temporary provision was made for revenue, and the city readily advanced what was required upon the credit of the Parliament that was yet to meet. Writs were issued for a new Parliament to meet on April 25th. On March 17th the Long Parliament was finally dispersed.

The Court of Charles at Brussels had meanwhile undergone all the anxieties of alternating hope and despair. Monk's action against the city had confirmed their worst forebodings; but "these fogs and mists," says Hyde," were soon dispelled." It was only a few days later that better news reached Hyde. Late one evening, Ormonde brought a young man to the Lord Chancellor's lodgings, which were just beneath those of the King. The young man [Footnote: "The man's name was Baily; he had lived most in Ireland, and had served there as a foot-officer under the Marquis (Ormonde)" (Hist. of Rebellion, Bk. xvi. p. 139).] looked "as if he had drank much, or slept little." He had just travelled with all expedition from London. From Lambeth, where he had been in a sort of nominal confinement, with others of the King's friends, he had heard the sound of the bells which had rung out when Monk came back to the city as a friend, and had pronounced for a free Parliament. He had crossed the river and viewed the scene of rejoicing in Cheapside; had seen the bonfires, and heard the health of the King toasted. He had joined in open proposals for the restoration of the rightful sovereign; and straight from those unwonted experiences he had taken post for Dover and crossed to Ostend.

It was hard to say how much comfort could be drawn from this report. The messenger had brought a copy of Monk's published declaration; but that contained no word about the restoration of the King. Even were his friends encouraged to action, it was idle to hope for success in arms without foreign aid; and Charles and Hyde knew how small were the chances of such aid. Were the unpurged Long Parliament restored, what better could be hoped from them than that they would open negotiations upon the basis of the old treaty at Newport, which the late King "had yielded to with much less cheerfulness than he had walked to the scaffold"?

The portents, however, continued to be favourable. Addresses were received from many whose favour for the royal cause had, hitherto, been unsuspected, and whose new-found loyalty might well be accepted as an indication of a change in the temper of the nation. Patience was still the watchword urged by Hyde. The issues were ripening, and even now he may have anticipated that bloodless restoration towards which the current was quickly carrying the people.