Chapter 31 - Monk Reveals Himself
D'Artagnan, although he flattered himself with bettersuccess, had, nevertheless, not too well comprehended hissituation. It was a strange and grave subject for him toreflect upon - this voyage of Athos into England; thisleague of the king with Athos, and that extraordinarycombination of his design with that of the Comte de la Fere.The best way was to let things follow their own train. Animprudence had been committed, and, whilst having succeeded,as he had promised, D'Artagnan found that he had gained noadvantage by his success. Since everything was lost, hecould risk no more.
D'Artagnan followed Monk through his camp. The return of thegeneral had produced a marvelous effect, for his people hadthought him lost. But Monk, with his austere look and icydemeanor, appeared to ask of his eager lieutenants anddelighted soldiers the cause of all this joy. Therefore, tothe lieutenants who had come to meet him, and who expressedthe uneasiness with which they had learnt his departure, -
"Why is all this?" said he; "am I obliged to give you anaccount of myself?"
"But, your honor, the sheep may well tremble without theshepherd."
"Tremble!" replied Monk, in his calm and powerful voice;"ah, monsieur, what a word! Curse me, if my sheep have notboth teeth and claws; I renounce being their shepherd. Ah,you tremble, gentlemen, do you?"
"Yes, general, for you."
"Oh! pray meddle with your own concerns. If I have not thewit God gave to Oliver Cromwell, I have that which He hassent to me: I am satisfied with it, however little it maybe."
The officer made no reply; and Monk, having imposed silenceon his people, all remained persuaded that he hadaccomplished some important work or made some importanttrial. This was forming a very poor conception of hispatience and scrupulous genius. Monk, if he had the goodfaith of the Puritans, his allies, must have returnedfervent thanks to the patron saint who had taken him fromthe box of M. d'Artagnan. Whilst these things were going on,our musketeer could not help constantly repeating, -
"God grant that M. Monk may not have as much pride as Ihave; for I declare if any one had put me into a coffer withthat grating over my mouth, and carried me packed up, like acalf, across the seas, I should cherish such a memory of mypiteous looks in that coffer, and such an ugly animosityagainst him who had inclosed me in it, I should dread sogreatly to see a sarcastic smile blooming upon the face ofthe malicious wretch, or in his attitude any grotesqueimitation of my position in the box, that, Mordioux! Ishould plunge a good dagger into his throat in compensationfor the grating, and would nail him down in a veritablebier, in remembrance of the false coffin in which I had beenleft to grow moldy for two days."
And D'Artagnan spoke honestly when he spoke thus; for theskin of our Gascon was a very thin one. Monk, fortunately,entertained other ideas. He never opened his mouth to histimid conqueror concerning the past; but he admitted himvery near to his person in his labors, took him with him toseveral reconnoiterings, in such a way as to obtain thatwhich he evidently warmly desired, - a rehabilitation inthe mind of D'Artagnan. The latter conducted himself like apast-master in the art of flattery: he admired all Monk'stactics, and the ordering of his camp, he joked verypleasantly upon the circumvallations of Lambert's camp, whohad, he said, very uselessly given himself the trouble toinclose a camp for twenty thousand men, whilst an acre ofground would have been quite sufficient for the corporal andfifty guards who would perhaps remain faithful to him.
Monk, immediately after his arrival, had accepted theproposition made by Lambert the evening before, for aninterview, and which Monk's lieutenants had refused underthe pretext that the general was indisposed. This interviewwas neither long nor interesting: Lambert demanded aprofession of faith from his rival. The latter declared hehad no other opinion than that of the majority. Lambertasked if it would not be more expedient to terminate thequarrel by an alliance than by a battle. Monk hereupondemanded a week for consideration. Now, Lambert could notrefuse this: and Lambert, nevertheless, had come, sayingthat he should devour Monk's army. Therefore, at the end ofthe interview, which Lambert's party watched withimpatience, nothing was decided - neither treaty nor battle- the rebel army, as M. d'Artagnan had foreseen, began toprefer the good cause to the bad one, and the parliament,rumpish as it was, to the pompous nothings of Lambert'sdesigns.
They remembered, likewise, the good feasts of London - -theprofusion of ale and sherry with which the citizens ofLondon paid their friends the soldiers; - they looked withterror at the black war bread, at the troubled waters of theTweed, - too salt for the glass, not enough so for the pot;and they said to themselves, "Are not the roast meats keptwarm for Monk in London?" From that time nothing was heardof but desertion in Lambert's army. The soldiers allowedthemselves to be drawn away by the force of principles,which are, like discipline, the obligatory tie in everybodyconstituted for any purpose. Monk defended the parliament - Lambert attacked it. Monk had no more inclination to supportparliament than Lambert, but he had it inscribed on hisstandards, so that all those of the contrary party werereduced to write upon theirs "Rebellion," which sounded illto puritan ears. They flocked, then, from Lambert to Monk,as sinners flock from Baal to God.
Monk made his calculations, at a thousand desertions a dayLambert had men enough to last twenty days; but there is insinking things such a growth of weight and swiftness, whichcombine with each other, that a hundred left the first day,five hundred the second, a thousand the third. Monk thoughthe had obtained his rate. But from one thousand thedeserters increased to two thousand, then to four thousand,and, a week after, Lambert, perceiving that he had no longerthe possibility of accepting battle, if it were offered tohim, took the wise resolution of decamping during the night,returning to London, and being beforehand with Monk inconstructing a power with the wreck of the military party.
But Monk, free and without uneasiness, marched towardsLondon as a conqueror, augmenting his army with all thefloating parties on his way. He encamped at Barnet, that isto say, within four leagues of the capital, cherished by theparliament, which thought it beheld in him a protector, andawaited by the people, who were anxious to see him revealhimself, that they might judge him. D'Artagnan himself hadnot been able to fathom his tactics; he observed - headmired. Monk could not enter London with a settleddetermination without bringing about civil war. Hetemporized for a short time.
Suddenly, when least expected, Monk drove the military partyout of London, and installed himself in the city amidst thecitizens, by order of the parliament; then, at the momentwhen the citizens were crying out against Monk - at themoment when the soldiers themselves were accusing theirleader - Monk, finding himself certain of a majority,declared to the Rump Parliament that it must abdicate - bedissolved - and yield its place to a government which wouldnot be a joke. Monk pronounced this declaration, supportedby fifty thousand swords, to which, that same evening, wereunited, with shouts of delirious joy, the five hundredthousand inhabitants of the good city of London. At length,at the moment when the people, after their triumphs andfestive repasts in the open streets, were looking about fora master, it was affirmed that a vessel had left the Hague,bearing Charles II. and his fortunes.
"Gentlemen," said Monk to his officers, "I am going to meetthe legitimate king. He who loves me will follow me." Aburst of acclamations welcomed these words, which D'Artagnandid not hear without the greatest delight.
"Mordioux!" said he to Monk, "that is bold, monsieur."
"You will accompany me, will you not?" said Monk.
"Pardieu! general. But tell me, I beg, what you wrote byAthos, that is to say, the Comte de la Fere - you know - the day of our arrival?"
"I have no secrets from you now," replied Monk. "I wrotethese words: `Sire, I expect your majesty in six weeks atDover.'"
"Ah!" said D'Artagnan, "I no longer say it is bold; I say itis well played; it is a fine stroke!"
"You are something of a judge in such matters," repliedMonk.
And this was the only time the general had ever made anallusion to his voyage to Holland.