Sword of State: The Remarkable Story of George Monck

by Richard Woodman

  ‘I will remit to London what surplus I raise once I have encompassed your intentions, sir…’

  ‘Very well!’ Cromwell smote the table with his hand and rose, smiling. ‘You will dine with us this night, I insist upon it,’ he added seeing Monck’s reluctance.

  ‘I have much to do, Your Highness.’

  ‘We shall not sit late, that I promise. And you may bring Clarges, that he may know all of what is said. I have him in mind for some appointment.’

  That evening Monck and Clarges were shown into the Lord Protector’s apartments and Cromwell made the introductions.

  ‘My wife Elizabeth, our sons Richard and Henry and one whom you know.’ Monck made his bow to Mistress Cromwell, shook hands with the two grown sons, exchanging a few words with Richard, whom he had met previously, and then exchanged greetings with John Lambert.

  ‘My congratulations on your appointment to Scotland, George.’ The handsome Lambert’s grip was firm, his expression again appeared sincere. ‘His Highness desires us to be friends.’ He said with an easy familiarity as Oliver looked-on. ‘I have no objection.’

  ‘Nor I,’ said Monck with a decided air, grasping the other’s fist. ‘These are not times for factions of any kind.’

  ‘Well said,’ remarked Cromwell. ‘Since you go north, George, I would not have you in any doubt but that your rear is secure. John is soldier enough to understand that.’

  Lambert laughed easily at Cromwell’s faux deprecation of him. All three men knew that Lambert had carried off much of the credit for the English victory at Dunbar at Monck’s expense. Cromwell’s reference to Monck’s long experience as a professional soldier and its comparison with Lambert’s comparatively amateur background was, Monck knew, rehearsed. He met it with a generosity that the gravity of the moment demanded.

  ‘General Lambert’s energetic conduct in Scotland was exemplary,’ Monck said. ‘I would gladly have men with half his talent for seizing the moment, Your Highness.’

  ‘You have Tom Morgan,’ said Lambert with an easy laugh as Mistress Cromwell motioned them to take their seats.

  ‘Ah, the little Welsh Dragoon,’ added the Lord Protector as he held up his hands for silence and uttered the grace.

  The meal passed off pleasantly enough, its sole purpose having been a more-or-less public reconciliation between Monck and Lambert. Monck, seated at Cromwell’s right-hand, was chiefly in conversation with the Protector’s elder son Richard, Cromwell discoursing chiefly with Lambert, on his left. The heir had none of the fierce fire of the father and seemed to take after his mother; he spoke in general of the problems confronted by the Army in which he held a commission. The wine was good, though not over-plentiful, while the saddle of mutton was roasted to a very turn of the spit. Towards the end of the meal Mistress Cromwell asked after Monck’s wife.

  ‘She is well, ma’am, much taken with her duties as a mother.’

  ‘And the boy is well?’

  ‘A fine little fellow, I thank you.’

  ‘You are taking them to Scotland?’

  ‘No, my dear,’ broke in her husband. ‘General Monck has some hard-campaigning ahead of him. At the present Scotland is no place for his wife and child.’ Cromwell turned towards Monck: ‘Perhaps when a quietude reigns you may send for your family.’ Monck bowed his head but held his tongue. ‘Now,’ Cromwell looked round the table and raised his glass. ‘May the Lord of Hosts bless your enterprise, General Monck. Go forth in the righteous knowledge that we undertake God’s work on earth and pray for God’s promised reward in the hereafter.’

  ‘How long shall you be gone?’ Clarges asked him afterwards.

  Monck shrugged. ‘Who knows. Perhaps a long while.’

  ‘Nan will not be pleased.’

  ‘No. But Anne will have to endure it. She may come after me as soon as I have pacified the country. In the meanwhile, do you look after the family’s interests, Tom, on that I rely. I shall have troubles with money, both in the public good and in mine own. What there is for myself I would harbour. Anne is not insensible to the advantages in such accruals. It may assuage her loneliness somewhat.’

  ‘I shall do all that I can for you.’

  ‘I know. And do not neglect thyself in all this.’

  ‘I shall not,’ Clarges smiled. ‘I would make no soldier, but I have a liking for prudent management, whether the monies be mine own or are held in trust for others.’

  ‘That is well. Now, I confess, before I am to bed I have yet a letter to write to Anne and I must be away betimes tomorrow morning. I have ordered horses and the coach, so,’ Monck yawned, ‘I must bid thee good night.’

  Monck undressed for bed, composing his own mind and ordering his thoughts. Cromwell’s last words to him rang in his ears and, after the staged reconciliation – if that was not too dramatic a word for it – with Lambert. He had some difficulty deciding that the Lord Protector meant what he said. Monck wished the man’s sincerity to be personal, as indeed it seemed upon its utterance, rather than political as expedience demanded.

  ‘I have the utmost confidence in your judgement, George,’ Cromwell had said, his low voice intense, as he saw Monck and Clarges to their coach. ‘Affairs of state all too often wear an appearance not to be bruited abroad and much has passed between us in the past. I have no anxieties in whom my trust reposes as regards Scotland; as for all else Almighty God is our sure shield.’

  So much for high intent; now Monck turned his mind to domestic matters. He drew a sheet of paper towards him, inspected his pen-nib, dipped it and began to write.

  My Dearest Heart,

  I am to leave for Scotland tomorrow. By the Ld. Protector’s most positive Instructions You are Forbidden to come until I have Pacified those Scots whose Rebellious Inclinations wish for the Return of Charles Stuart. When all wears a better Complexion I shall send for You and the Boy. How is He? Miss no opportunity to commend His Father’s Love to Him.

  Tom knows all my mind; he will confer with Wm. Morice as regards those matters tending the Estate, as for the rest I know You more than Able to manage Affairs to all our advantages, for which God be Praised. My Duty will perhaps allow some other small emoluments to better secure Ours’ and the Boy’s futures.

  I cannot write more though my Heart is full. Please do not neglect to keep His Father’s Face ever before my Darling Kit.

  As for my Wife, for that thou now art, my Heart and my Soul are ever Yours.

  In all Affection, I am your loving Husband,

  Geo. Monck

  *

  ‘Will! Will! How very good to see you!’ Monck leapt to his feet and came round the table, brushing to the floor several of the papers with which it was littered.

  ‘Likewise General Monck.’ Clarke swept his hat to the floor in a bow.

  ‘This calls for wine before anything else.’ Monck clapped his hands and a moment later glasses and a decanter appeared. ‘Pray take Mister Clarke’s cloak,’ Monck ordered, then turned to Clarke. ‘How are you? And how is your wife? Is she with you in Edinburgh, or have you left her in Dundee?’

  ‘I thought it best I left her in Dundee until I knew your mind.’

  Monck nodded and showed Clarke to a seat. ‘I think perhaps she would be better here, or in Edinburgh if she prefers.’

  ‘You propose to make Dalkeith your headquarters?’ William Clarke gestured about him in the gloomy room and its lining of dark-panelling.

  Monck nodded. He had reached Dalkeith that very noon and established himself in the old palace in Lilburne’s former rooms. ‘’Tis a fit enough place and I would be near but not in the capital. Her Grace the Duchess of Buccleuch has agreed to a quit-rental. We may find Dorothy suitable quarters here and I hope soon to send for my own wife. It would be an agreeable combination do you not think?’

  ‘Most agreeable, General,’ responded Clarke drily.

  ‘Besides, I would have you close, Will, for the difficulties we face – about which you know more than I have any ken of –
demand swift resolution. I have sent for Morgan and expect him hourly.’

  ‘I am to accompany you on campaign?’ asked Clarke, unfolding the cover of his leather satchel and withdrawing some papers.

  ‘Yes,’ Monck said shortly. ‘It will be necessary to re-establish whatever may be rescued of our old network of spies…’

  ‘Well, I am prepared to become your intelligencer,’ Clarke interrupted, ‘indeed I have not truly ceased to act in that capacity and I have here something of what remains. Lilburne largely disdained it, but Tom Morgan had better sense. We still command the pockets, if not the affections of some seventy informants.’

  ‘Good, good. That is excellent news.’

  ‘’Twould be better if they were more evenly distributed about the country but that is not possible so we must make bread with what dough we have.’

  ‘Success will breed success,’ Monck said.

  ‘Aye, and example tends to beget envy. It generally works.’ The two men laughed.

  ‘We must establish a fund…’

  ‘I have already done so. Lilburne’s incapacity left ample room for some invention. Thinking you to be for the navy, I had assumed the gubernatorial mantle would fall upon Morgan’s shoulders. His field rank in any case exceeded that of Lilburne and he would have been a competent choice, but I am relieved that the navy did not claim you, since matters are dire.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘The conditions imposed upon the Dutch have, I think, forced Charles Stuart to abandon, for a while at least, his whoring. Last summer a confederation of Highland Chieftains, seeing our preoccupation with the Dutch and pinched by lack of money, sent word into Holland by the person of John, The Earl of Middleton, that they would rally to the old cause. Cunningham of Glencairn began to recruit and seek further secret support. In February, when Middleton returned to assume the chief command, he raised the standard of rebellion in the far north. While the Marquess of Argyle pledged himself to neutrality to secure his hereditary lands, his heir, Lord Lorne, has declared for the King, along with the Earl of Atholl and Lord Kenmure. Others are sure to come in but it was enough to shake Lilburne. His Army, fifteen thousand strong, is no longer the force you left, sir. They have been riddled by…’

  ‘Faction, sectarianism, politics and religious dogma.’ Monck held up his hand. ‘I am no stranger to such disturbances, Will.’

  ‘Well, sir, I would not have you labouring under any illusions. The troops have been spread out in strong posts and forts, small arguing congregations rather than military detachments. The only ray of sunshine is that Morgan, whose immediate force is less corrupted by such interminable dispute thanks to Morgan’s activity, checked Glencairn upon the Firth of Cromarty some few days since. Over a hundred rebels were killed and twenty-seven were taken. Upon the promise of a discreet release appearing as escape, five of them took gold and I am awaiting the fruits thereof. A second column under Colonel William Daniel is in the field further south, in Perthshire. It is possible he may have been in contact with the enemy too but beyond the environs of Edinburgh,’ Clarke shrugged, ‘well, ’tis best to assume all is rebel territory since few among the Scots think a Southron Englishman can come among them in their mountains.’

  ‘Hmm! We defied such opinion before,’ remarked Monck drily, returning to the document-covered table and recovering a map. ‘We took cavalry and guns where they said it could not be done and pacified the country…’

  ‘You did, sir, but I consider our present circumstances somewhat different. We had worn them out as they did nearly wear us out…’

  ‘I know, we must do it all – and more – over again. It is damnable, depressing and will call for extraordinary exertions but as soon as Morgan comes we will concert our plans. We shall first move to Stirling from where I intend to conquer piecemeal, step-by-step; we shall establish strong-points, each well garrisoned, fortified and supplied. We shall besides establish depots for our own convenience and as we proceed we will lay waste the country. Nothing doth bring men quicker to their senses than such a policy and the clans make war upon one another in this way and so they will understand it. Better, moreover, to pinch their bellies than shed their blood. Afterwards, for those who come to reason, we shall make life tolerable. I will have neither looting nor raping, that we must impress upon all officers. Those found in such transgressions shall assuredly hang.’

  The two men conferred long into the evening but, before turning-in that first night at Dalkeith, Monck wrote to the Lord Protector, eager to stifle any expectations of a miracle.

  Highness,

  I have found upon Enquiry into affairs here, that the Design of this Insurrection is more Universal than I had expected. It extends itself not only from the Hills into the Lowlands of Scotland, but also to the Borders of England, whence the Fathers do either send or connive at their Sons going away to join the Rebellion...

  He concluded the letter with a reminder of the necessity of an immediate war-chest, boldly increasing his demand – ‘in light of the actual circumstances of the case’ – to fifty thousand pounds, adding that the pay of the troops in Scotland was in arrears and that resentment was simmering because the soldiers knew their colleagues in England were not so neglected. Monck also wrote to Lambert, requesting the immediate return of officers then on leave; he asked for victuals, ammunition, boots, muskets, cavalry remounts and the establishment of a regular supply by sea to the port of Leith. ‘The colliers of Newcastle are very useful for this service,’ he wrote, evidence of his experience at sea. He next scribbled a series of short orders to those commanding officers, a list of whom Lilburne had left him. This requested they send in an immediate return of their units’ strength and operational condition. Finally, he wrote one last letter: to Argyle.

  My Lord Marquess,

  I am come into this Country with only one purpose, viz. to settle a firm and just Peace upon its People, a system to which you have put your name. I find it in a state of open Rebellion and shall shortly proceed against those Clans and Factions who take up Arms on behalf of Charles Stuart against the Protectorate and the Union. I desire that you will send me Assurances of your holding to your Oath of Loyalty and Agreement. I would not trouble myself to ascertain your mind in this matter, had not I been informed that The Lord Lorne is with the Rebels gone. I may also allow myself to call to Your Lordship’s recollection the Unfortunate Consequences should The Lord Lorne be taken in Arms against Us, and the Great Effect this would have upon your Family.

  It would grant me much Contentment to know that Your Lordship harbours no intentions of joining the Rebels, nor of any thoughts of aiding or abetting them, in which case I should have no need to proceed against Your Lordship’s land. That you had brought your Son to His Senses would further relieve of Much Anxiety,

  Your Faithful Servant,

  Geo. Monck

  Only then did he allow himself the balm of sleep.

  Despite the gloomy situation Monck slept well. The journey from London had been long enough to turn his mind from contemplation of what he was leaving, despite the tenderness of his thoughts for Anne and little Kit, to what he was approaching. This he found especially to his liking. He was not set upon another tedious period of service at sea, but was entrusted with a land-campaign and, following its success, the task of civil government. His commission to ‘rule, govern and command against rebels and enemies of the public peace’ was couched in exactly the right form to gratify Monck’s ambitions, while his powers to raise taxes, to mulct, imprison and issue proclamations and proscriptions gave him the means to accomplish civil pacification. Militarily, his powers over the armed forces of the Protectorate were such as Cromwell himself had held. If Cromwell in London was a King in all but name, George Monck was his Viceroy in Scotland.

  Monck was at his desk early the following morning, writing more letters: a brief note to Anne, and a longer letter to Tom Clarges. Recollecting his former service as an apothecary Monck sought a prescription for blistered fee
t and whether Clarges had any advice regarding specifics for the bloody flux, or anything for the preventing of corruption in wounds. Shortly after seating himself he was joined by Clarke so that when, at about ten of the clock, an orderly announced the arrival of Lieutenant General Morgan, the Commander-in-Chief’s room in Dalkeith Palace appeared to enjoy an air of utter normality, as though the two men had worked thus harmoniously for months.

  ‘I give you God’s love, General Morgan,’ Monck said as Morgan, his long boots bespattered with mud, strode into the room.

  ‘By God, I am glad to see you, General Monck,’ Morgan said, his Welsh accent welcome in Monck’s ears. Morgan was grinning with delight at the stolid man who rose at his entrance. Monck was not tall, but Morgan scarcely reached his shoulder, yet he seemed a-fizz with dynamic energy, a contrast to his imperturbable Commander-in-Chief. The new arrival spun on his heel and took in Clarke, who had looked up from his papers. ‘And William Clarke, by all that is holy! Now perhaps we might make war upon the rebels and roll them into their mountain fastnesses.’ Without waiting for any response or even seeking Monck’s hand, Morgan leant over Monck’s desk and drew the map towards him. ‘I bring you good news, General Monck.’ Morgan pulled off his right glove and with it a sealed paper which he handed to Monck. His none too clean right index finger stabbed at the map, mid-way along Strathtay and fifteen miles north-west of Perth. ‘Will Daniel fell upon a rebel force by here, George, at Dunkeld. That’s his despatch which I offered to carry for him, he having his own hands full enough. He’s taken over a hundred prisoners and I’ve ordered them to Edinburgh with my own escort for Master Clarke’s interrogation.’

  ‘You had better tell me of the situation as you see it,’ said Monck after reading Daniel’s hastily scribbled note.

  Morgan nodded. ‘My headquarters is here, at Inverness. I have an advanced post at Dingwall but for all the good it is everything north and west of the great Glen is the enemy’s.’ Morgan’s finger raked right across the map from the north-west to the south-west, down the long line of Loch Ness, Loch Lochy and the sea-loch of Loch Linnhe, a gash across the entire country extending from the North Sea to the Atlantic Ocean. ‘Here,’ he waved his hand over Argyll’s country to the south of Loch Linnhe, ‘all is quiet as long as Argyll remains neutral, though his son is in arms against us. As for the rest, the Trossachs by Loch Lomond, Perthshire and Stirling, why ’tis as much theirs as ours. My advice, should you desire it, your Excellency…’ Morgan paused, as if suddenly aware of his presumption.