It is always a temptation to over-estimate the effect of trifling accidents in history, but certainly few little things have been fraught with weightier consequences than prudent "old George's" idea of waiting the post in. Had he made his great move while Rump and army were at one it is hard to say how long the Revolution might have dragged on its effete existence. It is indeed possible that he might still have succeeded in closing it, but it could only have been at the cost of a bloody civil war.

Now things were changed. Intoxicated with their success over the rebels, Lambert and Fleetwood, with the army-party, in a formal petition had made demands which it was impossible for the Rump to grant. Sir Arthur Haslerig, the hot-headed leader of the pure Republicans, had moved a vote of censure on Lambert, and Clarges was able to inform his brother-in-law that a breach was imminent. Monk at once instructed him to withdraw his resignation. He saw his duty clearly before him now, and waited quietly for news. The petition was forwarded to the Scotch army for signature, and its authors attempted to gain Monk over to their interest by the offer of supreme command of the foot, and the rank of general in the standing army which they meant permanently to establish. His reply was to absolutely forbid a man under his command to sign the obnoxious document.

On September 27th another meeting of the English officers was held at which demands so extravagant were framed that the moderate men withdrew, and sent up to Monk imploring him to use his influence to prevent a breach. He did his best in a letter to Fleetwood. But no one knew better than he that the attempt was useless, and his brother was hurried off to London with Mary Monk and a secret message to Clarges. No military scruples perplexed the old soldier now. His duty to his paymasters and his duty to his country were one. His commission stood no longer in the way of his patriotism or his political creed, and he spoke at last with no uncertain voice; for Commissary Clarges was charged to assure the House that if they would only stand firm in asserting their authority over the army he would stand by them, and be ready, should the need arise, to march into England to their defence.

With this message—the death-warrant of the English Revolution—Nicholas Monk reached London on October 11th. Over eleven years ago, in "the first year of freedom, by God's blessing restored," the chiefs of the army had met at Windsor to seek their duty from the Lord. In a long ecstasy of prayer and tears they had sought counsel of their God, and the answer came—the King must die. From that hour revolution had ridden triumphant on the shoulders of the army. But its day was done, its work was accomplished, and the most perfect soldier of them all had risen up to enforce the simple gospel of obedience. Prayer or no prayer, King or no King, the soldier's duty was to obey, and not to command.

For two days the House had been considering the new petition from the army, determined not to grant and afraid to reject it. The debate stood adjourned till the morrow without hope of a solution to the problem. It was late in the evening when Nicholas Monk reached Clarges. In the first hours of the morning the commissary roused the Speaker and Haslerig with his news. The whole situation was changed as if by magic. No sooner was the House met than the tidings flew from mouth to mouth, and in rapid succession a series of votes were passed bidding defiance to Lambert and the army. "Resolved that if they must leave their soft seats they would first empty out the feathers," they made it high treason to collect taxes without their consent, cashiered Lambert, Desborough, and the seven other colonels who were concerned in the movement, deprived Fleetwood of the command of the army, and vested it in a commission in which he was associated with Monk, Haslerig, Ludlow, Morley, Walton, and Overton, all staunch Parliament men. The following morning Lambert had seized the approaches of the House. Once more the Rump was the victim of a coup d'État, and a military committee of safety reigned in its stead.

Monk had foretold the quarrel months ago. On the morning of the 17th the news for which he had been waiting reached him at Dalkeith, and with startling rapidity he set about backing his words. Never had soldier a more difficult and dangerous task. In any one of lesser calibre the attempt would be called madness. He was face to face at last with his old rival. He was about to defy the most brilliant of Cromwell's generals, and before he could call his strength his own he had to tear from it its toughest fibres. The London officers had succeeded in making his army a hotbed of the very opinions he had determined to crush with it. On the whole Scotch establishment there was hardly a colonel who was above suspicion. Every garrison and every company were full of the veteran fanatics who had taught the world the art of revolution, and every man of them in his heart rejoiced at Lambert's success. With this element free, his army was Lambert's army. At all cost it must be made powerless, though it was the very soul of his force. But Monk did not hesitate. Not a moment was to be lost. In a few hours the news would be all over Scotland and the chance gone. All the principal garrisons, with the exception of Stirling and Aberdeen, were in the hands of Lambert's nominees, and the whole venture turned upon the rapidity with which they could be secured.

Hardly was Clarges's despatch in the general's hands when Captain Smith was galloping for Edinburgh and Leith to take the first step towards mastering the garrisons there. The capital was occupied by Monk's own regiment and Talbot's "Black Colours." Talbot's was far from sound, and in the general's own there was hardly an officer who was not a rank Anabaptist. Fortunately, in the absence of the superior officers, Talbot's was being commanded by its major, Hubblethorne, and Monk's by its senior captain, Ethelbert Morgan. At Leith was "Wilkes's," also in charge of its major, Hughes; while in widely scattered quarters in the country round lay the general's own regiment of horse under Johnson, its senior captain.

These four men were summoned to Dalkeith and at once formed into a Council of War, together with such well-affected officers as Monk had managed to have about him in anticipation of the crisis. Their first step was to stop the post into England, and then far into the night they sat methodically but rapidly maturing every detail of the move. In the morning all was in working order. Two of the impromptu Council, who belonged to the garrisons at Perth and Ayr, were away at dawn to secure those fortresses. They were only captains, but in his hour of need Monk had hardly a single field-officer whom he could trust. At the same time Johnson was despatching orderlies right and left to concentrate the horse: Hubblethorne and Ethelbert Morgan were away again with secret orders; and far and wide messengers were spurring to summon the most dangerous officers to headquarters, while small parties of horse were leisurely taking up their posts to waylay and arrest them as they came.

By dinner-time a troop of horse arrived at Dalkeith to escort the general to Edinburgh. He had determined to take the capital in hand himself, and as soon as he had dined he rode away. Meanwhile his secret orders had been carried out to the letter. He found his own regiment and Talbot's paraded in the High Street, and Captain Johnson in waiting with two more troops of his horse. Satisfied with his inspection the general rode on quietly to his quarters, and once there proceeded to cashier nearly the whole of the officers of his own foot. The command was given to Morgan, and Major Hubblethorne made lieutenant-colonel of the "Black Colours." This done he returned to the High Street, and placing himself at the head of the two regiments marched them down to the open space before Greyfriars' Church. No sooner were they again in line than he ordered the arrest of the whole of the cashiered officers. Resistance was out of the question. Monk's own had been paraded without ammunition. The musketeers of the "Black Colours" wore their bullet-bags and bandoliers; the sulphurous smell of their matches perfumed the air with menace; at the general's back were his faithful troops of horse—and his order was obeyed.

Without giving his leaderless regiment a moment to think Monk followed up the blow with a pithy and soldier-like speech, asking them if they thought it right for the Scotch army to submit to the insolent extravagancies of the home forces. "For my own part," he cried, "I think myself obliged by the duty of my place to keep the military power in obedience to the civil. Since we have received our pay and commissions from the Parliament it is our duty to defend them. In this I expect the ready obedience of you all. But if any do declare their dissent to my resolution, they shall have liberty to leave the service, and may take their passes to be gone."

A thundering shout greeted his words. Not a man was there but cried with wild enthusiasm he would live and die for "old George." Edinburgh was won, but the day's work was not yet over. As he left the parade-ground a despatch was put into his hand. It was from his friend Colonel Myers, the governor of Berwick. The key of the London road was of the first importance to Monk, and Myers declared he could not hold it against the numerous Anabaptist officers in his command. Monk immediately ordered a troop of horse to his assistance; but a new difficulty arose. Berwick was forty miles away. Not a trooper was in Edinburgh who had not ridden twenty that day. The roads were deep in mire, and every one declared the march impossible. It was a word Monk did not often listen to. The march must be made. The general appealed to Johnson as he only knew how, and as the night fell the captain and his troop were spurring for the Border through the Nether Bow Port.

Monk's drastic proceedings at Edinburgh were but a type of what happened all over Scotland. By the time he had in person secured and purged Leith and Linlithgow, messengers began to pour into headquarters to report that everywhere his promptitude had paralysed resistance. Every garrison was in his hands and every high-road was resounding with the tramp of the troops he had ordered to concentrate on Edinburgh. There, too, Colonel Cobbett arrived a prisoner. It was Johnson's offering to his general. It had been the first act of the Committee of Safety to send up the colonel post-haste to secure not only Berwick, but the Scotch army as well, and to arrest Monk if he objected. A few hours before he reached the Border Johnson's exhausted troop had toiled into Berwick, and Cobbett arrived to find himself a prisoner.

Monk had now time to breathe. On the 20th the post was allowed to go, and with it went three official letters from the general. One was to the Speaker, laconically informing him that the Scotch army was at the service of the Parliament if it were still under restraint, and that in accordance with his new commission he had cashiered such officers as would not recognise its authority. "I do call God to witness," he concluded, "that the asserting of a Commonwealth is the only intent of my heart, and I desire if possible to avoid the shedding of blood, and therefore entreat you that there may be a good understanding between Parliament and army. But if they will not obey your commands I will not desert you according to my duty and promise."

In the same strain he wrote to Fleetwood imploring him to restore the Parliament. "Otherwise," he says, "I am resolved by the assistance of God, with this army under my command, to declare for them and prosecute this just cause to the last drop of my blood.... I do plainly assure your lordship I was never better satisfied with the justice of any engagement than in this.... I desire your lordship not to be deluded by the specious pretences of any ambitious person whatever." He speaks pathetically of his shame to see his country the scorn of Europe, and again calls God to witness he has no other end than the Restoration of parliamentary authority, "and those good laws which our ancestors have purchased with so much blood.... And I take myself so far obliged, being in the Parliament's service, to stand though alone in this quarrel."

The third letter was to Lambert. He was "the ambitious person" on whom Monk had his eye; and short and sharp as the letter was, he was careful to let his old rival know that he suspected him of aiming at a dictatorship. He repeated his determination to stand by the evicted Parliament; "for, sir," he concluded, "the nature of England will not endure any arbitrary power, neither will any true Englishman in the army, so that such a design will be ruinous and destructive. Therefore I do earnestly entreat you that we may not be a scorn to all the world and a prey to our enemies, that the Parliament may be speedily restored to their freedom which they enjoyed on the 11th of this instant."

These plain-spoken letters fell like thunderbolts amongst the London officers. Fleetwood, Lambert, and Desborough met at Whitehall in consternation. With the short-sighted conceit of second-rate men they had practically omitted Monk from their calculations. They had mistaken his modest ambitions for indifference. The Quixotic loyalty which had made him submit to the insolent orders of the war-office while Parliament was sitting, they had taken for stupidity. Now with the suddenness of a dream this despised soldier of fortune, this exalted drill-sergeant, as they thought him, towered like a giant before them as the three politicians sat together astounded. Midnight struck, and with the madness of doomed men they sent for Clarges. The result of the interview with Monk's subtle agent was that he and Colonel Talbot were ordered to start for Scotland within three hours to invite Monk to agree to an armistice preliminary to settling their quarrel by a treaty.

Their action was none too prompt. They knew well enough what to expect when Monk had once declared. We know the importance he attached to the first rapid moves of a campaign. Lambert at least was aware of his methods, and knew he would not waste a moment. Nor did he. No sooner were the Scotch garrisons safe than a party of horse was sent to secure Carlisle, and a small mixed column was pushed forward from Berwick to surprise Newcastle. The attempt on Carlisle failed, through the incompetency of the officer in command. The Newcastle column came to a halt at Morpeth. Colonel Lilburne, the man whom Monk had superseded in Scotland, and who was now in command of the northern district, had thrown himself with a strong reinforcement into the threatened town. Determined to avoid a conflict till he was ready, Monk ordered a retreat to Alnwick.

As it happened, no accident could have been more fortunate for the success of Monk's designs. Had he taken Newcastle, in a week it would have been besieged by Lambert and Monk could not have moved to its relief. Owing to the weather the Scotch army was concentrating with exasperating slowness, and insubordination was by no means at an end. Wholesale desertions began to take place. Men were whispering that the general "had the King in his belly." To stop their mouths he convened a permanent Council of War and committed to it the whole of his correspondence. He used the press freely, and printed all his official letters. But difficulties seemed to grow every day. The armies of England and Ireland refused to join him, and the fleet followed their example. In the midst of his perplexities Clarges arrived at Edinburgh, and showed him where his escape lay. The Treasury in London was empty; Monk's was overflowing. Lambert must place his troops at free quarters, and pay them with plunder. It was a mere matter of time for the whole country to turn against him, and for his army to melt away piecemeal. Immediate action was Lambert's only game. Every day he must grow weaker, while Monk was ever gathering new strength as troop after troop and company after company marched into Edinburgh from the Highlands.

In negotiation Monk saw the delay he needed. His Council of War, being thoroughly averse to fighting their comrades who had bled for the old cause, embraced the idea with enthusiasm, and a commission, consisting of three colonels whom Monk trusted, was appointed to treat with the Committee of Safety. A warm debate took place over the bases of negotiation. The Council were inclined to ask for a new Parliament. Monk insisted on the restoration of his masters, nor would he consent to the counter-proposition unless it were made contingent on the refusal of the Rump to sit. Not content with this, he gave the commissioners secret instructions before they left not to disclose their power to treat for a new Parliament till the last moment. For he well knew that Fleetwood and Lambert would never agree to restore the Rump if there was a possibility of a settlement on any other terms. Having thus very cleverly thrown back the onus of a civil war on Lambert, while at the same time he had done his strict duty to his commission and his best to prolong the negotiations, Monk agreed to an armistice, and allowed the commission to depart.

At York they found Lambert with the head-quarters of the English army. Professing an authority from the Committee of Safety, he made an effort to treat with them on the spot. But mindful of their secret instructions they insisted on the question of the Parliament being first settled, and he was compelled to suffer them to proceed on their journey. But even then his evil genius had not done with him. He felt that by allowing the negotiations to go forward he had removed one of his rival's difficulties. In a desperate effort to recover the ground he had thus lost he removed the other. All that Monk now required was a man whom he could trust to reorganise his army, and reduce it to the obedient machine of his ideal. The one man in the world to do it was his old comrade Morgan, who had recently returned from serving with the English contingent in the Low Countries under Turenne. He was still Major-general on the Scotch establishment, but had been laid up at York with gout. He was now recovered, and Monk had written to him to rejoin. The letter had been intercepted by Lilburne, and Morgan was still at York pretending to disapprove of the Scotch proceedings. His importance was well understood. Next to Monk he was considered the finest soldier in the three kingdoms. After his brilliant capture of Ypres, the great Turenne had embraced him on the shattered walls and told him with effusion he was amongst the bravest captains of his time. Yet this was the man that Lambert, with the fatuity of those whom Heaven has doomed, chose to send to Monk in order to induce him to lay down his arms.

What happened when the two old comrades met was only to be expected. Morgan delivered his message with a laugh, but never took back an answer. That was more than he had promised. He told his friend he had come to return to his duty, for he was no politician, and felt his best course was to follow a man whom he knew to be a true lover of his country.

The presence of the fiery little dragoon made itself felt immediately. Cashiering and remodelling went on briskly, and so great was the enthusiasm which Morgan inspired that, in spite of the efforts of incendiaries from London, desertions entirely ceased. Without further anxiety Monk was able to devote himself to his statecraft. His correspondence at this time was enormous. Openly or in secret he was in communication with men of all shades of opinion, from constitutional Royalists like Lord Fairfax to pronounced Republicans like Haslerig. From all sides came envoys to expostulate or encourage. From Ireland Cornet Monk brought a message from the general's old comrades Coote and Jones, that they had every hope the Irish army would declare for him before long. The London Independents despatched delegates to mediate. Whatever the pretence, every one was trying to find out what the silent soldier intended. The burden of his answer was the same to all, that unless Lambert and his friends restored the Parliament, "he meant to lay them on their backs." For Haslerig and the Independents it was too much, for Lord Fairfax and the men of Booth's insurrection too little. The whole question was, what Parliament did he mean to restore? Was it the Long Parliament as it existed before Cromwell purged it of the Presbyterian Royalists, or was it the Republican Rump that was left when they were gone? The former meant a constitutional restoration; the latter a continuance of the republic.

But this alternative by no means sums up the political situation with which Monk suddenly found himself face to face. The complex condition of parties at this time is only comparable to that which exists in France to-day. In the place of the Legitimists were the old Cavaliers, in that of the Orleanists were the Moderate Royalists, who looked to a restoration by constitutional means. But there was this wide difference. Both monarchical parties supported the same dynasty, and together they formed the majority of the kingdom. They included practically the whole of the country gentlemen and all the Presbyterians of the Covenant. And whatever Monk might think of the expediency of a restoration, they represented the ideas which in his heart he regarded with the greatest favour. Next in strength and in Monk's sympathy was the party which corresponds to the French Moderate Republicans. It consisted of the old Commonwealth men, with Haslerig and Vane at their head, and was represented by the Rump, but it must be always remembered that they repudiated the idea of a president. For Napoleonists there were the Cromwellians, who, though now an exhausted and leaderless party, still clung to the principle of a protectorate. The field which the pure Opportunists occupy was filled by Lambert and his admirers, who, while they branded Haslerig as a reactionary, coquetted with the King. Together these two groups formed the right of the Army-party, which was held together by a vague policy of the supremacy of the military over the civil power. Its left looked to Fleetwood. Like the extreme left in France, this faction included men of a great variety of opinions, and in striking analogy to contemporary political phenomena, its moving spirits were the Anabaptists and Fifth Monarchy men, the Socialists and Anarchists of the time.

It is not of course pretended that the parallel is exact, but it is sufficiently close to bring the situation vividly before us; and when we remember that as in France the parties were constantly combining into new groups, and further how complicated the whole position was by religious differences, it will serve as well as a detailed account to picture for us the labyrinth through which Monk was about to try and thread his way without violating the sacredness of his commission. No man ever approached a situation so difficult with so little experience or assistance. "Counsellor I have none to rely on," he is reported to have said at this time. "Many of my officers have been false, and that all the rest will prove true is too much gaiety to hope. But religion, law, liberty, and my own fame are at stake. I will go on and leave the event to God." No aim more patriotic was ever set up with more manly devotion. His success was then and still is regarded as an accident or a miracle. Be that as it may, in the whole roll of history there can be found no greater moral lesson than the story of the plain and steadfast purpose with which at last the end was won.