by the Tweed; and, at this time, there was nothing but ice and snow to be seen, nor could we discover which was land and which was water. It had once a religious house in it, and penitents surely do they deserve to be thought, that live in this cold bleak place. The General's palace was a little cottage as black as a peat-stack, and about the height of the gudewife herself, with two great dunghills at the door, and a hall or entry so dark and narrow that a man could not turn in it. The room, which served him for both lodging and parlour, was too bad for description; his bed was like a bird's nest, into which he crept, having overhead a canopy of boards, for curtains were things unheard of in this place, and glass windows were as precious as crystal even at Edinburgh. And yet, in these strait quarters did his lady pay him a visit; but in business times he loved not such company, and dismissed her next day, and did a little chide her for that unseasonable kindness. But a cottage is the preface to a palace, and humility the way to greatness. The generous hawk that towereth above, and, as the falconer expresseth it, lessens and vanishes, stoops for to purvey entertainment and lodging, very low.

The General's chapel (for he was loth to accommodate himself at the expeuse of the Scots, by making use of their church, besides that it was a little remotely situate) was big enough for a barn, and none of the cleanest, it having been used for a cow-house, or worse. It was thought to have been part of the old priory, before-mentioned; but, if it were holy ground, I am sure it was unclean, until some honest red-coats, for now they were grown honest, were so devout as to make it clean, which devotion of theirs depended upon their officers' command. The best fare we had was lean mutton and tough stringy poultry; ale, brewed over-night,-rich liquor next day, and drunk with good commendation. Yet I have heard many of our party say afterwards, that they never enjoyed so much content in all their lives; for we were merrier over our hard fare than aldermen at a city feast.

While the General kept himself close in his quarters, news was brought by Captain Campbell, (who, by this good message, did atone for the many sinners of his name) that the forces in Ireland had declared for the General, and secured all such as opposed him. The General, who was always, though without ostentation, truly pious, kept a day of thanksgiving to God Almighty for this return to our prayers; but before we had given thanks for this mercy, came intelligence of another, that the fleet in the Downs, and Hazelrig and others at Portsmouth, had declared for General Monk. To reduce this place, Fleetwood, it appeared, had instantly sent down

forces; but these last joined with those in the town, and, returning to London, restored the pretended parliament.

And thus the Rump once again recovers its authority, which the Scotch army allowed them to enjoy for a short space; administering, in the meanwhile, fair words by way of diet-drink, but intending, hereafter, to prescribe strong cordials, such as the admission of the secluded members; the parliament having had purging medicines given it already but too often.

Upon this event, General Monk refuses to treat any longer with Lambert, on the ground that the parliament, "by whose authority he acted," had appointed commissioners for the government of the army; that the general council of his own officers had come to a resolution, to enter into no treaty nor ratify any agreement "without consent of parliament," and this resolution of theirs being reasonable and necessary, he could not oppose it. On being apprized of this, General Lambert laid his hand upon his breast, and exclaimed,

that the General had not well used him." This being the civil death of that gentleman, needs must we say, that he was a person of great parts and good courage, and as fit for the Protectorship as Oliver, and some think fitter; but so foolish a farce was not to be again enacted in England. Lambert was close and reserved in his temper, of great pride and ambition, grasping at things above his reach, which was his ruin. It was the opinion of some of his friends, that, could he have new-modelled his officers, and reduced them to depend on himself, he would have pursued General Monk's line of conduct. Certainly, he had wit enough to know his true interest; but this was no opportunity to try what really was in his heart, since he was at the head of an army he could not rule.

General Monk having disposed all matters in Scotland so well as to ensure the quiet of the country, proposes to march into England, with four regiments of horse, and six of foot, not knowing what entertainment to expect at the hands of the English army. In these regiments was many a name deserving to be recorded at Coldstream in a table, in like manner as the followers of the Conqueror were registered in the abbey of Battle. These Coldstreamers were like the nobles of Israel, with whom Deborah was so much in love, and of whom she sings in the book of Judges, "because they offered themselves willingly among the people, and jeoparded their lives unto the death, in the high places of the field.”

The chaplains of the army were then but two, the rest having declined; Dr. John Price, an honest and learned gentleman,*

Also a biographer of General Monk.

and this relator, who was preacher to the council, and then had the most lucrative places in the army; "but thanks to God he enjoyed them not one whole year."

On new year's day, a good omen to begin a new world in England, and to bring a new year's gift, the General sent over most of his foot, and followed himself next morning with his horse. It is not to be imagined what offers he now had of regiments and troops of horse to be raised when the danger was over; but he smiled at these addresses, remembering how, a short time before, in the Border counties, they had refused to sell him horses for money tendered on the spot. This minds me of a remark made to the General by a gentleman who happened, in the month of May following, to be looking, with him, out of a window in the General's quarters, at Canterbury; observing the troops, as they marched past in green scarfs and feathers, and summer gaiety, on the way to welcome his majesty. "The General," he said, " had none of these with him at Coldstream:-grasshoppers and butterflies never come abroad in frosty weather."

After the restoration of the pretended parliament, upou the revolt and repentance of the English army in and about London, Colonel Salmon came post to inform Major General Lambert of the posture of affairs. The latter instantly quits Newcastle, and conceals himself, first, in Yorkshire, and afterwards in London. So that a gentleman that had lately triumphed over the Cheshire insurgents, and come down to the North with an army able to swallow all Scotland, has now not where to lay his head. The great ones that had attended him on his journey, and the preachers that had addressed him at his several stages with prayers and flattering sermons, now have the impudence to meet General Monk with their thanksgivings.

The General, when he received intelligence of Lambert's retreat, was already on his march. On the night of the 2nd of January his quarters were at Wellar, where we did eat and lodge like Christians; but we had not been long retired to rest when a messenger from the Rump arrives, and obliges us to rise out of bed, though the night was extremely cold and snowed liberally. Their letter consisted of six lines as cold as the night, informing us how they were (unhappily) got together again; and because something was wanted to fill up the space, they put in thanks at the conclusion. The same messenger brought orders for Lambert's forces to disperse to their quarters, and one little better to us, but that we resolved not to understand him. The General put a good face on the matter; the whole army was halted on its march, and the letter read at the head of the several regiments, the foot standing knee-deep in snow, and shouting very hard to get themselves into some heat, and many

crying" that they would go up to London, and see the parliament sitting." At Morpeth, the army was met by the swordbearer from London, bringing an express from the common council and a declaration of their desires for a full parliament; alleging that, in the present one, they had never a member to represent their renowned city. Whither came also the swordbearer from Newcastle, with compliments and kind invitations from that town. These wary citizens did not care to appear publicly till the coast was clear, and they might address with impunity. And here I cannot but relate a pleasant story to the purpose; after David Lesly had routed Montrose, the committee of estates appointed commissioners, whereof the Earl of Lanerick, a stickling covenanter, was one, to examine those who were charged with having addressed Montrose as the king's lieutenant. Among these was Stewart, of Minto, who, being asked whether he did not kiss the cheek of Montrose, (a ceremony in Scotland peculiar to the king's viceroy,) and not denying it, Lanerick calls out, "Mark that, clerk;" upon this cries Minto," My lord, if you had been there as I was, you would have been glad to have kissed a worse part, (he spoke plain Scotch)-mark that, clerk,-to have got off as I did!" Lanerick, upon this, dissolved the commission with a laugh, and would act no further in the business.

And now began the General to govern his army more monarchically, and to dispense with all general councils of officers, pretending that there was no danger or necessity for them; but, in reality, not considering them as agreeable to his designs, which required above all things secresy and silence. The saying of Metellus on this head is well known: "that if his shirt were privy to his thoughts, he would burn it." On the fourth of January, the General quartered at Newcastle, where great multitudes of the common people met him upon the road, with acclamations, and railings upon Lambert, and extolling the General to his face, crying "that he looked like a General." From this place he dispatched a messenger to London, with letters and instructions to sound the designs of those in power, and inform him truly of all that was going on; he himself, in the mean time, resolving to make short marches, and linger upon the road till he was fully advertised upon these heads. During the whole march, the General wrapped himself in silence and darkness, and though accosted by many great and worthy persons, gave only a general answer, "that his endeavours should never be wanting for the welfare of his country." As he approached nearer to London, he grew more and more reserved, and his confidents took pains to refute the rumors that were circulated against him, and he did, himself, cudgel some fanatics in Yorkshire for raising malicious reports; all which was

to lay asleep the jealousies of the Rump, who dreaded nothing so much as the return of majesty. In the course of his journey, also, he took upon him, by his own authority, to new-model and reduce many of the English forces, that had been the great abettors of the anarchy and disorders of the army. At York he remained five days, during which he had very secret and private conference with the Lord Fairfax.

Meanwhile, after a tedious journey by night and by day, through Lambert's army, to many of whom he was known for an incendiary, as they called him, with repeated hazard of his life, over roads covered with great drifts of snow, the General's messenger arrived in London. That day, he attended the House and produced his letter, and, being called in, was introby the sergeant at arms with his mace to the bar, that they might learn his errand, which was not expressed in the letter, but referred to his own report. He told them he was commanded to assure them of the great affection of the Scottish army towards the House; that the soldiers did, upon the arrival of the messenger with the tidings of their return to power, express their joy in acclamations, and desire to come off to see them in that power; that he had also in particular, from the council of officers, to tender their best services, and withal their humble entreaties that they would not employ persons of unsettled principles, either in the army, or the fleet, or in any posts of authority, but men of sober judgments and moderate opinions; that. the General did further recommend to them the encouragement of an able and learned ministry, and the maintenance of schools and universities, and that so many mechanic persons might not be intruded upon the functions of preachers of the gospel: finally, that he desired an act of indemnity might pass for all he had done in that undertaking; and that he did not nor would keep any correspondence but what was for their service, with some other matters upon which he dealt very freely, and then withdrew.

This pretended parliament neither dared trust, nor yet openly distrust, the General; and, perhaps, they had reason. The same night, he attended the council of state, sent in his letter, and waited, with great patience, till after midnight, without being called in. At last, he was directed to go to a private lodging, and there to stay their leisure. Here came a committee of the council, rather to examine him than to hear his propositions; but he refused to answer any questions, except before a full council. They, however, had heard too many documents in

* This messenger, the reader need hardly be told, was the reve rend divine himself.