Life of Edward Earl of Clarendon, vol 2 | Page 8

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