s. "All is our
own: he will be honest," said Hasilrig to the friends beside him. In
their triumph, they rose once more for a moment to the full height of
Republican confidence. It happened that a deputation of London
citizens, headed by Mr. Praise-God Barebone, had come to the House
that day with a petition and address, signed by some thousands of
"lovers of the good old cause," who were anxious to disclaim all
connexion with the City tumults and with "the promoters of regal
interest" in the City or elsewhere. The petitioners demanded nothing
less than that the House should at once impose an oath abjuring
Charles Stuart upon all clergymen and other persons in public
employment; but even this did not prevent the House from thanking
them cordially. As for the City generally, now that Monk had brought
it to submission, the House would trample it under foot! The Lord
Mayor, having behaved discreetly through the tumults, was to be
thanked; but it was voted that the present Common Council should be
dissolved and a new one elected by such citizens only as the House
should deem worthy of the franchise. Nor was Monk to hesitate any
longer about the city gates and portcullises. Orders were sent to
him, not only to unhinge the gates and wedge the portcullises, as
the Council had already ordered, but to break them in pieces. The
City was to be overmastered utterly and finally, and Monk was to be
the agent.--Not even yet did Monk rebel. The gates and portcullises
were broken in pieces by his soldiers, and every other order was
punctually carried out. The soldiers were in indignation over their
base employment, and the citizens were stupefied. In vain were
Clarges, Dr. Barrow, and others of Monk's friends going about and
assuring the Lord Mayor and Aldermen that the General was a man of
very peculiar ways and must not be too hastily judged. "Very
peculiar ways indeed," thought the citizens, mourning for their
honours lost, and their broken gates and portcullises. On the night
of Friday, Feb. 10, when Monk returned to Whitehall, after his two
days of rough work in the city, it was, as it seemed, with his
reputation ruined for ever among the Londoners. A few days before
he had been the popular demigod, the man on whom all depended, and
who had all in his power. Now what was he but the slave and hireling
of the Rump?[1]

[Footnote 1: Commons Journals of dates; Phillips, 684-685; Skinner,
211-219; Whitlocke, IV. 394-396.]

It was aft