Life of Edward Earl of Clarendon — Volume 02

by Sir Henry Craik

A new danger suddenly arose, by the escape of Lambert from the Tower in April. His influence in the army was unrivalled, and he alone could raise a counterpoise to the power of Monk. So long as his rival was at large, Monk could not, except at imminent risk, have declared himself more decidedly. To do so would have aroused opposition that would have strengthened that rival's hands. But Lambert's efforts were unavailing. Had he been able to remain in London, Hyde thinks he might, in time, have organized an effective opposition. Instead of this he felt it needful to strike at once. He made his way to Buckinghamshire, and from that county and Warwickshire he was able to collect a considerable force. Colonel Ingoldsby was despatched in pursuit of him, and soon overtook him at Daventry in Northamptonshire. Ingoldsby had been a strong adherent of Cromwell, and (as he asserted, against his will) had been forced to sign the death warrant of the King. He had now an opportunity of rendering a service that might wipe out some heavy scores against him. Lambert at first endeavoured to detach Ingoldsby from his allegiance to Monk, by offering to espouse the cause of Richard Cromwell. But Ingoldsby rightly judged that such a scheme was doomed to failure. Lambert's troops refused to fight and fast deserted him, and he was easily made prisoner and once more committed to the Tower.

[Illustration: GENERAL LAMBERT. (From the original by Robert Walker, in the National Portrait Gallery.)]

During the interval between the Dissolution on March 17th, and the meeting of the new Parliament, the administration was in the hands of a Council of State, which acted with Monk's concurrence. The hopes of the Royalists grew apace, and prominent members of the party no longer hesitated to take an open part in political discussion. The command of the Fleet was put into the hands of Monk—"the General," as he was called—and Admiral Montague, and the latter was known as one well disposed to the King, and ready, even at an earlier date, to have taken active steps for his restoration. Monk alone kept up his prudent reserve. Even in April he continued to express himself as strongly averse to the restoration of monarchy, A conference of some leading men took place at Northumberland House. The Earl of Northumberland, the Earl of Manchester, Sir William Waller and others whose political inclinations were in sympathy, joined in that conference, and Monk took part in it. Even then, amongst men whose leanings were all in favour of the King, he deemed it necessary to maintain an attitude of doubt, and refused to consider the possibility of a Restoration without conditions as stringent as those that had been pressed in the last stages of the civil war.

The final steps were carried out through the agency of well-tried adherents of the King, who were connected by old ties of friendship with Monk. A gentleman of Devonshire—with which county Monk was closely connected by ties of property—named William Morrice, had there spent a studious life, but was understood to have leanings towards the Royalist party, A friend of that unsullied loyalist, Sir Bevil Grenville, Morrice had been left in charge of his family, now represented by young Sir John Grenville, the son of Sir Bevil. Monk and Morrice had both been chosen members of the new Parliament, which was to meet on April 25th, and Morrice, who was in close touch with Monk, was vexed to find that all proposals for the restoration of the King were coupled with severe conditions, and were to be based upon acknowledgment of the binding force of the Covenant. Monk took note of the dominance of the Royalist party in that new Parliament, and soon concluded that matters were likely to move in the direction of a Restoration, whether with his aid or no. Day by day he became more inclined to be the foremost instrument of that now inevitable Restoration. Grenville was of too pronounced Royalist tendencies to be given any active part in what were still unavowed designs; but he might be a useful instrument in the confidential negotiations. He had credit enough with Hyde and the counsellors of the King to be accepted without those written credentials with which it would have been dangerous to entrust him. Morrice brought him secretly to Monk, who bade him confer with Morrice as to the terms of the communication to the King. Morrice fully instructed him as to the position. Monk's good inclinations were to be conveyed to Charles, and he was to write in terms which Monk could make public at the convenient time. The King was to promise a very wide pardon for past offences, full liberty of conscience, the payment of arrears of pay to the army, and the confirmation of all sales of forfeited lands. Without such stipulations, the waverers, it was thought, would be driven by despair to resist any scheme of restoration. As a special charge, Monk bade Grenville insist that Charles should move from Brussels to Breda. No trust could be placed in the fickle favour of the Spanish Crown. Thus primed, Grenville sailed, early in April, with Mordaunt, and arrived in due course at Brussels. The over subtlety of the Spanish ministers made them believe that the Restoration, if accomplished at all, would be brought about by the Levellers and Independents, who would bring back the King with nothing more than a semblance of power. An alliance with them alone, it was thought, would be the safest course for Spain. Nothing could persuade Cardenas and Don Lewis de Haro that Charles would be restored on conditions that virtually obliterated all the changes that the civil war had brought about.

It was evident to Hyde that the conditions laid down by Monk could only be complied with under very strict reservations. There was no wish to revive old quarrels, or to deny any fair measure of indemnity, and just as little did Charles desire to alienate the whole body of religious feeling outside the Church. But it was not consistent with the honour of the King that the indemnity should extend to the murderers of his father; nor was it possible to leave order in the Church at the mercy of contending fanatics. It was not difficult to devise a course which should make every reasonable concession to the proposals of Monk, and yet not destroy the hopes of those who looked forward with passionate earnestness to the restoration of the old order, and were not prepared to accept as partners in their future Government those who had formed the Court which had condemned the King. In spite of his long absence from England, Hyde had kept himself well informed on the trend of general feeling, and he judged that such matters could safely be left to the national tribunal. All the disputed points were left to be settled by Parliament. The action of the King was left free; but on the other hand no constitutional objection could be raised to the reservation of doubtful matters for the judgment of a free Parliament.

It was on these lines that the letters which Grenville was to carry from the King to Monk were drafted by Hyde. One letter was addressed to Monk and the Army; one to the House of Commons, and one to the House of Lords. Montague received one addressed to the Navy; and the last was addressed to the Lord Mayor and the City of London. When these letters were prepared, the return of Grenville and Mordaunt from their secret mission was delayed only in order that they might carry back word to Monk that the condition upon which he insisted would be carried out, and that the King would move from Flanders to Dutch territory. That design had to be carried out promptly if it were to be carried out at all. There was good reason to fear treachery on the part of Spain, and she might even so far break the laws of hospitality as to prevent the King's change of abode, and so cripple negotiations that might spoil her alliance with the anti-Royalist party. It was only by the unexpected promptitude of the move that Charles and his little Court were saved from possible delays which Spain could, under the guise of punctilious courtesy, have interposed. Hyde had sure information from an Irishman, then in Cardenas's employment, that such a design was on foot. He at once communicated with Charles, and by three o'clock in the morning, the King had started from Antwerp—which he had already reached in his journey from Brussels to Breda. Before his departure was known, he had already crossed the border.

From Breda, Grenville and Mordaunt were despatched to England, with their batch of all-important letters. No pains were spared to confirm the new- found loyalty of the General, and to assure him of the gratitude of the King. It was in compliment to him, and on Grenville's suggestion, that William Morrice was appointed to the Secretaryship of State, vacant in consequence of the Earl of Bristol having joined the Roman Catholic Church. All the letters were entrusted to the General, and although those other than his own were sealed, copies were supplied to him, so that he might know their contents before they were delivered and read. At the same time a Declaration was issued under the Privy Seal, pledging the King "to grant a free and general pardon" to all his subjects who, within forty days, should throw themselves upon his mercy, "excepting only such persons as shall hereafter be excepted by Parliament." For religious differences, it was provided that they should be settled by Act of Parliament, to which the King pledged his consent.

The messengers reached London a week before Parliament was to meet. The General approved the letters, and found no difficulty in the reference to Parliament of those points on which the King was not prepared to give an unlimited pledge. The fact was that the time was already past for haggling about terms. The tide of loyalty was now flowing with a rush that nothing could stem. A month ago, careful observers might say that the question was no longer whether the King was to be restored, but only as to the terms on which the Restoration was to take place. Now, the question of terms was already settled; the only point remaining was, who were to have the prominent parts as agents, and were to be counted as deserving the chief share of gratitude.

On April 25th the new Parliament met, and Sir Harbottle Grimston, who had been one of the Long Parliament members, excluded in 1648, was chosen Speaker. There was no long doubt as to the spirit of the new House. The memory and the deeds of Cromwell were condemned with no uncertain voice. They waited only for the oracle to speak before they resolved to take the final step, and vote the restoration of the King. Not till May 1st did Monk think fit to disclose his intention. He then announced that Sir John Grenville was present with letters to himself and to Parliament. With almost unnecessary parade of ceremony he stated that both were sealed and that he would read his own only by their direction. With due gravity the pretence was carried out, and the letters and Declaration produced a joy, which arose not so much from their terms as from the fact that their delivery by the General opened the door for the free flow of pent-up loyalty. It was no moment for weighing details, or for balancing conditions. The nation was sick to death of the heavy burden that had crushed their life for twenty years. The voice of the constitutionalist was silenced as effectually as the murmurs of the fanatic and the growls of the defeated republican. The Presbyterians spoke in vain of the Covenant; the more moderate found themselves little heeded when they spoke of taking securities before the King was restored. "The warmer zeal of the House threw away all those formalities and affectations." They were not "to offend the King with colder expressions of their duty." The letter that was sent left nothing to be desired in the lavishness of its loyalty. Sir John Grenville was complimented, and before he was despatched with their reply to the King's letter, he was presented with £500, "to buy a jewel to wear, as an honour for being the messenger of so gracious a message." "So great a change was this," says Hyde. Three months before Grenville might have suffered a shameful death if he had been known to have interviewed the King; he was now rewarded for bringing a message from him.

Amidst the general rejoicings the sons of the great Protector passed ignominiously and unheeded from the scene. Never had a great edifice of power, raised by consummate strength of will, and proud ambition, toppled so easily to the ground. Richard—that "child of fortune" as Clarendon calls him—and his brother Henry, the Lieutenant of Ireland, were puppets in the hands of each successive faction. They had readily yielded any phantom of power they possessed into the hands of the army officers, and when the Restoration took place they did not receive even the compliment of notice, as items to be counted in the sweeping change. Amidst the national joy, the poor wretch upon whom there had descended an inheritance that he was not fit to bear, "found it necessary to transport himself into France, more for fear of his debts than of the King, who thought it not necessary to inquire after a man so long forgotten." [Footnote: Rebellion, xvi. 374.] Clarendon points the dramatic contrast of this contemptible exit by introducing a story of a later day. In his subsequent wanderings abroad, Richard Cromwell visited Pezenas, in Languedoc, where the Prince of Conti was Governor, and according to usage he waited upon the Prince, but had the caution to make the visit under another name. The Prince "received him with great civility and grace, according to his natural custom, and, after a few words, began to discourse of the affairs of England and asked many questions concerning the King." He proceeded to discuss the late Protector. "Well," said the Prince, "Oliver, though he was a traitor and a villain, was a brave fellow, had great parts, great courage, and was worthy to command; but that Richard, that coxcomb, coquin, poltron, was surely the basest fellow alive. What is become of that fool? How was it possible he could be such a sot?" His visitor did his best to lay the blame of the miscarriage on the betrayal of Richard by his advisers. But, fearing to be known, he speedily withdrew, and next day left the town. To such abasement had the name of Cromwell fallen; and with this strange episode it disappears from Clarendon's pages.