Montagu had now indeed, as Clarendon observes, betaken himself most generously to the King’s service. He was occasionally much tried by the over-interference of his colleague, Monk, “yet was he willing to do him all the honour in the world,” and let him have all the honour of doing the business, though “he will many times express his thoughts of Monk being a thick-skulled fool.” But Monk was most influential, and Montagu, with his wonted magnanimity, sacrificed his own pride to advance the cause of his royal master, and the prosperity of his country. So wise, judicious, and temperate was he, though still young.
He dearly loved his profession, and seemed to take a pride and pleasure in adorning and ornamenting the vessels under his command. “My Lord went about to-day to see what alterations were to be made in the armes and flags, and did give me orders to write for silk flags and scarlet waist-clothes (to be hung round the hull of the ship to protect the men in action) for a rich barge, a noise of trumpets, and a set of fiddlers. He oftentimes played himself on the guitar with much contentment,” and appears to have been as hospitable in his house of wooden walls, as at his fine seat of Hinchingbrook, “receiving the gentlemen who visited him with great civility. Frequent messengers from and to the King at Breda, and divers bearing letters from the Houses of Parliament. On the 9th of May, a certain noble from the House of Lords, to desire my Lord to provide ships for the transport of the Commissioners to His Majesty, who had just been proclaimed in London with great pomp. On the same day the Admiral received his orders to sail presently for the King, a command which he obeyed with alacrity, and of which he was very glad.”
On arriving at the Hague they anchored before that “most neat place in all respects,” where “my Lord” kissed by proxy the hands of the Queen of Bohemia, and the Prince of Orange, sending a deputation on shore including his secretary and youthful son. The Prince of Orange himself, is a “pretty boy.” In the evening “my Lord showed me his fine cloaths, which are as brave as gold and silver can make them.” His royal master appears to have been in a different plight and badly off both for “cloaths” and gold and silver too, and when he received a supply of both his Majesty was so much overjoyed that he called the Princess Royal and the Duke of York to inspect the treasures, as they lay in the portmanteau. The Duke of York was now named High Admiral, and visited the “Nazeby,” (where he was received with due honour), accompanied by the Duke of Gloucester. On the 23rd, the King came off from shore, and entering Montagu’s boat (he having gone off to meet his Majesty), “did kiss my Lord most affectionately.” The two Dukes, the Queen of Bohemia, the Princess Royal, and the Prince of Orange accompanied Charles in his visit to the “Nazeby,” a proud day for Samuel Pepys as well as for the commander; and the “Nazeby” was re-christened “Charles” by her royal Sponsor; and no wonder, for the first name could be in no ways pleasing to any of the parties concerned. And so they set sail for England, “his Majesty walking up and down the quarter-deck, and telling mightily interesting stories of his escape from Worcester, and other adventures.” At Dover the King was received by General Monk with great acclamations, but Montagu remained in his barge, “transported with joy that he had done all this without any the least blur or obstruction in the world.” Two days afterwards he received the Order of the Garter, with which he was invested on shipboard; the like honour being conferred on General Monk, a rare occurrence, as it was seldom given to any one beneath the rank of Earl.