Life of Edward Earl of Clarendon Part 1

The Life of Edward Earl of Clarendon.

by Henry Craik.

CHAPTER XIV

THE RESTORATION

After the death of Cromwell, on September 3rd, 1658, there ensued for the exiled Court twenty months of constant alternation between hope and despair, in which the gloom greatly preponderated. As the chief pilot of the Royalist s.h.i.+p, Hyde, now t.i.tular Lord Chancellor, had to steer his way through tides that were constantly s.h.i.+fting, and with scanty gleam of success to light him on the way. Within the little circle of the Court he was a.s.sailed by constant jealousy, none the less irksome because it was contemptible. The policy of Charles, so far as he had any policy apart from Hyde, varied between the encouragement of friendly overtures from supporters of different complexions at home, and a somewhat damaging cultivation of foreign alliances, which were delusive in their proffered help, and might involve dangerous compliance with religious tenets abhorred in England. The friends in England were jealous and suspicious of one another, and their loyalty varied in its strength, and was marked by very wide difference in its ultimate objects. It would have been hard in any case to discern the true position amidst the complicated maze of political parties in England; it was doubly hard for one who had been an exile for a dozen years. To choose between different courses was puzzling.

Inaction was apt to breed apathy; but immature action would only lead to further persecution of the loyalists, and to disaster to the most gallant defenders of the rights of the King. With the true instinct of a statesman, Hyde saw that the waiting policy was best; but it was precisely the policy that gave most colour to insinuations of his want of zeal. In spite of his exile, he understood the temper of the nation better than any of the paltry intriguers round him; to study that temper was not a process that commended itself to their impatient ambitions. His pen was unresting: in preparing pamphlets, in writing under various disguises, in carrying on endless correspondence, in drafting constant declarations. But all such work met with little acknowledgment from those who thought that their own intrigues were more likely to benefit the King, and, above all, to advance themselves. They recked nothing of that sound traditional frame of government which it was the aim of Hyde religiously to conserve. Few statesmen have had a task more hard, more thankless, and more hopeless than that which fell to him during these troubled months.

Hyde was saved from despair only by the intense dramatic instinct of the historian that was implanted in him. He could, or--what came to the same thing--he believed that he could, discern the greater issues of the time, and what interested him above all was the vast influence upon those issues of personal forces. When he recalled the events of his time, in the enforced leisure of later years, it was to the action of great personalities that he gave his chief attention, and the pa.s.sing incidents grouped themselves in his memory as mere accessories to the play of individual character. All through his history it is this which chiefly attracts us, and nowhere is it more striking than when he records the pa.s.sing of the greatest personal force of the age in Cromwell. It did not occur to Hyde--and, to their credit be it said, it did not occur to any even of the more friendly spectators on the other side--to regard Cromwell as the embodiment of a mighty purifying force in which defects were to be ignored or even justified on account of the heaven-inspired dictates under which he was presumed to have acted. Just as little could Hyde conceive of Cromwell as the great precursor of modern ideas, demanding the obedient homage of every ardent partisan of popular rights. These were eccentricities reserved for later historians under impulses of later origin. Hyde was compelled by all his strongest traditions and most cherished principles to regard Cromwell's work as utterly destructive, and he never pretended to have anything but the bitterest prejudice against him. To his mind, Cromwell was sent as a punishment from Heaven for national defection, and he never concealed his hatred for Cromwell's profound dissimulation or his abhorrence for the tyranny which the Protector succeeded in imposing on the nation. To have a.s.sumed an impartial att.i.tude would only have been, to Hyde, an effort of insincerity. It is precisely this which gives its weight to the measured estimate which Hyde forms of his stupendous powers. His appreciation of Cromwell is a pendant to that which he gives of Charles I. The latter is inspired with a clear flame of loyalty; but this does not blind him to the defects of the master for whom he had such a sincere regard. His deadly hatred of Cromwell leaves him equally clear-sighted as to the Protector's supreme ability.

"He was one of those men whom his very enemies could not condemn without commending him at the same time; for he could never have done half that mischief without great parts of courage, industry, and judgment." "He achieved those things in which none but a valiant and great man could have succeeded." "Wickedness as great as his could never have accomplished these trophies without the a.s.sistance of a great spirit, an admirable circ.u.mspection and sagacity, and a most magnanimous resolution." "When he was to act the part of a great man, he did it without any indecency, notwithstanding the want of custom." "He extorted obedience from those who were not willing to yield it." "In all matters which did not concern the life of his jurisdiction, he seemed to have great reverence for the law."

"As he proceeded with indignation and haughtiness with those who were refractory and dared to contend with his greatness, so towards all who complied with his good pleasure and courted his protection, he used a wonderful civility, generosity, and bounty." "His greatness at home was but a shadow of the glory he had abroad." "He was not a man of blood, and totally declined Machiavel's method." When a ma.s.sacre of Royalists was suggested, "Cromwell would never consent to it; it may be out of too much contempt of his enemies." "In a word, as he had all the wickedness against which d.a.m.nation is denounced, and for which h.e.l.l-fire is prepared, so he had some virtues which have caused the memory of some men in all ages to be celebrated; and he will be looked upon by posterity as a brave bad man."

These fierce words are inspired by exceeding hatred. But in spite of that, we can see that Hyde felt himself in the presence of a greatness that compelled respect. He was himself to exercise, in conformity with law, and with a profound respect for it, very considerable power for a few years to come, and was to leave his impress upon a century and a half of English history. But that influence was only to come after a greater and a more forceful spirit had pa.s.sed away, leaving no one fit to wield the same resistless power. Never has stern denunciation been relieved by a tribute of more dignified admiration of unquestionable greatness. His warmest admirers could not place Cromwell on a higher pedestal of acknowledged grandeur, all untouched by sympathy and all unbending in condemnation though Hyde's verdict is.

The same dramatic element is present in Hyde's picture of the scene that followed. Cromwell's life had closed amidst clouds and thickening trouble.

The Earl of Warwick and his grandson and heir (Cromwell's son-in-law), had both died. On that side his alliance with the great aristocracy of England was broken. Another son-in-law, Lord Falconbridge, was alienated from him, and refused to acquiesce in his later ambitions. Desborough, his brother- in-law, was at least doubtful in his allegiance; and Fleetwood, a third son-in-law, was a feeble craven, upon whom no reliance could be placed.

The fear of a.s.sa.s.sination had haunted him; and the death of Syndercombe in prison had s.n.a.t.c.hed away from him the chance of making a striking example of one who had plotted against his life. The death of his daughter, the wife of Claypole, had sorely tried the tenderness that was mingled with his stern ambition, and it may be that the story of her grief at the blood he shed had some foundation, and that the p.r.i.c.k of conscience added to his gloom. At least, it is certain that the sun of his success set in clouds and darkness, which might portend the crash of the fabric he had raised.

But Hyde is keenly impressed with the absolute contrast between the portents and the reality.

"Never monarch, after he had inherited a crown by many descents, died in more silence nor with less alteration; and there was the same, or a greater, calm in the kingdom than had been before." "The dead is interred in the sepulchre of the Kings, and with the obsequies due to such. His son inherits all his greatness and all his glory, without that public hate, that visibly attended the other." "Nothing was heard in England but the voice of joy." That state might have continued "if this child of fortune could have sat still." But "the drowsy temper of Richard" was little fitted to benefit by this apparent acceptance, much as it damped the hopes of the exiled Court. The engagements already made with Sweden rendered supplies necessary, and to raise these supplies it was necessary to summon a Parliament. Cromwell's bold scheme of Parliamentary reform, by which he had added to the county representatives and diminished those of the smaller burghs, was departed from, and the burgh representatives were again increased so as to give to the "Court" better opportunities of interfering in elections. Parliament met on January 27th, 1658/9, and it was not long before troublesome disputes again broke out. The votes were carried by small majorities, and there were so many various parties in the House that it was never certain when a combination of adverse factions might outnumber the followers of the "Court." To these followers there was opposed a strong phalanx of ardent Republicans, and the balance was held by a nondescript element called the "Neuters," amongst whom there were some even of Royalist leanings. Hyde was in constant correspondence with Royalist adherents in England, as to the means by which these different parties in Parliament might be used to involve the Government of Richard in trouble, to accentuate such discontent as existed, and, if possible, to steal an occasional adverse vote. But such schemes had little success.

Opposition to the Government, however, came from a source more powerful than a divided Parliament. Lambert had been cas.h.i.+ered by the late Protector; but he still retained an enormous influence in the army, and the army had no mind to submit tamely to extinction by Parliament. A council of the officers met to air their grievances, and Lambert, although no longer an officer, had a place amongst them. They complained that their pay was in arrear; that their services were neglected; that "the good old cause was traduced by malignants"; and that Parliament must be moved to redress their wrongs. With strange impolicy, Parliament pa.s.sed a resolution against any council of officers, and sought to impose its authority upon a power greater than itself. The ready answer was a demand for the dissolution of Parliament. Richard Cromwell was allowed no choice in the matter; if he did not do it, the army, he was told, would do it for him. He gave an involuntary a.s.sent. On April 22nd the dissolution took place, and Richard found himself virtually deposed. For another year there was little but anarchy in England, and any semblance of a const.i.tution was virtually in abeyance.

As the creature of the army, the old Rump Parliament was restored on May 7th. That was the name given to that section of the Long Parliament which sat from 1648 (when "Pride's Purge," as it was called, was applied) to 1653, when Cromwell ejected the remaining members and summarily closed the doors of Parliament. Of 213 members of the Long Parliament only ninety were thus permitted to sit, and of these only seventy actually did sit.

Those who were not p.r.o.nounced Republicans were excluded by the rough-and- ready method of a military guard placed at the door of the House. Such an a.s.sembly could have no respect from the nation, and was clearly only an instrument by which the Council of the Army might exercise its power. "The name of the Protector was no longer heard but in derision." [Footnote: Richard Cromwell submitted himself, with abject and craven weakness, to the will of this so-called Parliament. Nor did his younger brother, Henry, the Lieutenant of Ireland, prove to have any larger share of his father's courage.] But nothing was established to take the place of the authority thus cast aside.

Once more, and in even greater degree, the hopes of the Royalists were cast down. The restoration of the House which had destroyed the monarchy seemed, in the words of Hyde, "to pull up all the hopes of the King by the roots." In this despair the Duke of York was ready, at the persuasion of those about him, to accept from the King of Spain the post of Admiral of his Fleet. It offered, what there seemed but little likelihood of his otherwise obtaining, a place of dignity and a means of livelihood. That it necessarily involved a profession of the Roman Catholic religion was sufficient to condemn it in the eyes of Hyde, as at once unprincipled and impolitic. With the Duke's immediate advisers such considerations counted for nothing.

Backed by the visible force of the army, of which Lambert, now restored to his commission, was the virtual leader, the Rump Parliament showed a temporary vigour. All Cavaliers were banished from London. Monk, who commanded in Scotland, accepted the Parliament's authority. The fleet gave in its allegiance, and the relations with foreign powers were for a brief period renewed under the altered administration. The name of Parliament sufficed for a time to carry conviction to the people at large that this was the only means of preserving the Republican inst.i.tutions which seemed to embody all that they had fought for.

But the real popular support to this fantastic subst.i.tute for Government was very small. All over the country discontent was widely spread, and had penetrated deeply into the hearts of the people. The Royalists, detached and ill-organized as they were, yet found themselves able to show some boldness and to appeal more openly for armed support. John Mordaunt, a brother of the Earl of Mordaunt, was daunted by no difficulties, and was able without great danger to carry on correspondence with probable adherents, to pa.s.s backwards and forwards between the exiled Court and England, and to concoct armed risings in various parts of the kingdom. The King took up his residence _incognito_ at Calais, in readiness to sail for England and put himself at the head of the levies whose gathering was confidently hoped for. The Duke of York was close at hand at Boulogne.

To the more cautious counsellors like Hyde the schemes seemed hazardous and the time unripe for them. But even he could not refuse some response to affections so warm and efforts so courageous as those of Mordaunt. At the beginning of August all, it was hoped, would be ready for a series of successful risings in different parts of the country.

There was indeed abundance of enthusiasm. From all parts of the country offers of risings came. Sir George Booth was to seize Chester; Lord Newport, Shrewsbury; and in Gloucesters.h.i.+re, Devons.h.i.+re, Herefords.h.i.+re, Worcesters.h.i.+re, and North Wales, the Royalists were only too eager for the work. The ludicrous weakness of the Parliament made it a matter of no great danger to defy what could hardly be deemed an existing Government.

But the Royalists had been too long depressed and deprived of any share in administration to take a just measure of the difficulties. They reckoned without the army that was at the back of Parliament.

They reckoned also without that treachery which had only too ample opportunity to work, amidst plans and a.s.sociates so scattered and so lamentably disorganized, A traitor was now, as often in these Royalist plottings, received into their full confidence, and through him a detailed account of all their plans was sent to Thurloe. [Footnote: John Thurloe was born in 1616, and became a lawyer. He obtained active employment under the Parliament, and was Secretary to the Parliamentary Commissioners at Uxbridge. He acted as Secretary to Cromwell for secret correspondence, and ama.s.sed enormous experience in the intricacies of foreign diplomacy, which afterwards stood him in good stead when, after the Restoration, he wished to make himself useful to the new Government, and thus escape the penalties which his former political attachments would certainly have involved. Until the Restoration was all but accomplished he gave useful help to Richard Cromwell, but yet was able to ingratiate himself with the new Ministers.] Hyde learned that Sir Richard Willis, [Footnote: Sir Richard Willis had done good service to the royal cause in the war. As a close adherent of Prince Rupert, he became, when Governor of Newark in 1645, involved in one of the many quarrels between the Civil Commissioners and the army officers. Charles I. removed him from the Governors.h.i.+p, but desired to do so without friction by providing him with a post in his own escort. Willis's insolence in refusing this roused the King's anger so far as to lead him to banish Willis from his presence. Willis was a good soldier, rendered mutinous by the bad example of Prince Rupert; but it is hard to account for his present treachery. As Warburton, in his note on the _History of the Rebellion_ (Bk. XVI., para. 31) says, "he could not think of starving for conscience' sake, though he had courage enough to fight for it."] who had already played a double game of treachery, was acting as he had acted before, when he betrayed Ormonde's presence in London to Cromwell, and at the same time enabled Ormonde to escape by telling him of Cromwell's knowledge. Willis's betrayal gave the Parliamentary leaders time to collect forces sufficient to meet all attacks; and when he had thus baulked the attempt, Willis was ready to discover enough to prevent those whom he had betrayed from falling into the trap. Messages were sent to delay the rising, and in most cases they were in time to prevent outbreaks which were fore-doomed to failure. Only Sir George Booth, in the seizure of Chester, and Middleton, in the North Wales rising, actually carried out what had been planned. A very brief campaign sufficed for Lambert to crush the nascent rebellion. Booth and Lord Derby [Footnote: Son of the Earl who played so n.o.ble a part in the war, and who was executed after the battle of Worcester in 1651.] were prisoners in the hands of Lambert; and Middleton was compelled to consent to the destruction of his house, Chirk Castle. Once more a brief gleam of hope was succeeded by more profound despair, and there was nothing more to be done by Charles and the Duke of York than to return from the French coast to Brussels. But there was no Cromwell to crush future attempts by a policy of ruthless revenge. A few prisoners were taken; but the time was past for trials and executions. Legal processes were beyond the range of the sorry faction that stood for administration in England.

But scarcely had these abortive attempts been crushed before another avenue of hope opened itself to Charles and his adherents. It was one for which Hyde had no great liking, and from which he expected little good result. But obviously it was not to be neglected. After a long, barren, and destructive war, both France and Spain were eager for peace. Neither was ready to make the first overtures, and neither would confess an ardent desire for peace. But an opportunity occurred, now that a wife had to be found for Louis XIV. The Infanta of Spain offered a consort entirely suitable, and a marriage might be arranged with the better augury if it should prove a method of bringing to an end a mutually destructive war.

Mazarin viewed the proposal with suspicion, and was unwilling to conclude a peace when the success of French arms seemed already secure. But the Queen-Mother of France ardently desired the marriage, and mainly by her efforts Cardinal Mazarin and Don Lewis de Haro were induced to treat. Most men thought that the design was a vain one, fomented only in the enthusiasm of family ties. But the desire for a cessation of a useless struggle operated more powerfully than Mazarin was able to perceive; and that desire overcame the delays and doubts of diplomatic action. The time and place of meeting to arrange a treaty of peace were fixed; and there was at least a fair prospect that the two Kings might soon find themselves with free hands, and with greater power to prosecute the forcible restoration of Charles II. to his throne. Both had often alleged that only the poverty of their exchequer and the heavy expenses of the war prevented any cordial and effective a.s.sistance being rendered to the exiled King.

What claim to consideration might Charles not make good, what sound reasons of policy might it not be possible to suggest, if both were relieved of the burdens of war?

Hyde, as we have abundant reason to know, placed no confidence in foreign aid, and looked with suspicion upon the conditions under which it would be granted. But he could interpose no obstacles to the present application.

He himself remained at Breda, and held the threads of all the discrepant and varying negotiations; but he did not attempt to dissuade Charles from making a somewhat venturesome and hopeless voyage to Fontarabia, where the Treaty was being discussed in September, 1659. At first Charles attempted to procure a pa.s.s from Cardinal Mazarin. But in the face of opposition by the Queen this was hopeless, and, accompanied only by Ormonde and Bristol and a small retinue, he made his way, incognito, through France. Even in the strain of anxiety Charles's natural disposition showed itself in wasting time in order to see parts of France which he had not yet visited.

The pleasure of the moment always weighed with him more than the prosecution of business. Adversity, perhaps happily for himself, made him callous rather than despondent.

The business of the treaty between France and Spain meanwhile advanced more quickly than any one had ventured to hope. The difficulties as to France's pledges to Portugal, and those of Spain to the Prince of Conde, were somehow settled--or, at least, ignored. If France had to yield to some pressure on the part of Don Lewis de Haro, she avenged herself by retaining her hold on those former Spanish possessions in Flanders which the fortune of war had placed in her hands. Sir Henry Bennet represented Charles in Spain, and was sorely perplexed when the final ratification approached, and the King made no appearance. Ormonde had been sent to Fontarabia, but Charles lingered at Toulouse, before proceeding from there towards Madrid. His presence there was not desired, and he found himself compelled, after roundabout journeys, to put in an appearance at the scene of the treaty. Both France and Spain held out delusive hopes of aid. Don Lewis presented him with a dole of seven thousand pistoles, and promised a good reception on his return to Flanders. There was nothing for it but to make his way back to Brussels, and join once more in the plans of Hyde and his council there. He found the prospect no more cheerful than before.

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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sert their authority enough to cas.h.i.+er 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 circ.u.mstances 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 s.l.u.t, 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 a.s.sociation 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 coa.r.s.e 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 a.s.sume 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 circ.u.mspection, crossing no Rubicon, and breaking no bridge behind him. No word in favour of a royal restoration pa.s.sed his lips. He frowned on all who ventured to suggest such a course. At each stage in his advance he p.r.o.nounced, 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 att.i.tude 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 a.s.sured 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 const.i.tutional, 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 pet.i.tion from Praise-G.o.d 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 a.s.sembled 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 p.r.o.nounced 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 antic.i.p.ated that bloodless restoration towards which the current was quickly carrying the people.

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 Buckinghams.h.i.+re, and from that county and Warwicks.h.i.+re he was able to collect a considerable force. Colonel Ingoldsby was despatched in pursuit of him, and soon overtook him at Daventry in Northamptons.h.i.+re. Ingoldsby had been a strong adherent of Cromwell, and (as he a.s.serted, 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 att.i.tude 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 friends.h.i.+p with Monk. A gentleman of Devons.h.i.+re--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 p.r.o.nounced 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 pa.s.sionate 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 const.i.tutional 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 prompt.i.tude 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 a.s.sure him of the grat.i.tude of the King. It was in compliment to him, and on Grenville's suggestion, that William Morrice was appointed to the Secretarys.h.i.+p 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.