The king was warned as well as the people, and he knew that his project of waging war would not take his enemies unawares. Away from London, where at every moment he had suffered humiliations and defeats, he no longer came into contact with any but his servants, faithful, and often confident of success. With the influence which they enjoyed in their counties his cavaliers found once more their joyful arrogance and valiant ardor. On all sides Charles was urged to declare war, and small isolated enterprises formed a prelude to hostilities. Two hundred cavaliers, commanded by Lunsford, had already repaired to Kingston, near London, the depot of the warehouses of the county; but Parliament adopted its measures, and Lunsford, with his cavaliers, proceeded towards Windsor, whither the king had transported himself. He did not reckon upon staying there long; the queen was secretly preparing to depart, carrying off the crown jewels, in order to make purchases of arms and supplies in Holland. Under the pretext of conducting to the Prince of Orange, the little Princess Henrietta Maria, whom he had married six months before, she was also to negotiate with the sovereigns of the Continent, from whom assistance might be hoped for. It was at York that the king reckoned upon establishing his quarters while awaiting succor. In order to veil his designs, he invited the Houses to make a summary of their grievances, promising to set them right immediately and thus put an end to their discussions.
The Upper House received the message with joy. Even among the popular lords, many were afraid of the struggle which was only at its beginning, and which they wished to see ended. They immediately proposed for the assent of the Commons some hasty thanks to the king; but the Lower House had no confidence in royal promises; it demanded that the king should first consent to consign the command of the Tower, the strongholds, and the soldiery to men enjoying the confidence of Parliament. The Lords rejected this amendment, but thirty-two votes among them had supported it, and the Commons presented their petition alone. As regards the Tower and the fortresses, the king absolutely refused; as regarded the soldiery, his reply was evasive and vague; he wished to gain time.
The Commons, however, knew that they had no time to lose, and the leaders excited among the people a new and keen emotion. They were easily aroused to insurrection; from all counties, from all classes, merchants, artisans, and even women, came numberless petitions, demanding reform of the Church, the punishment of Papists, the repression of malevolents. The multitude stopped at the gate of Westminster. "The Upper House impedes everything," it was said. "We have never doubted the House of Commons," cried the workmen; "but let them give us the names of those who prevent harmony between the good Lords and Commons, and we will see to it." Fear began to overcome the timid; the popular Lords more and more took up the cause of the Lower House. "Whoever refuses to join the Commons in the matter of the soldiery is an enemy of the state," said the Earl of Northumberland. Some few Lords withdrew, others altered their minds, and the bill regarding the soldiery, as well as that for the exclusion of the bishops, was at length voted by the two Houses. Once more the Commons triumphed.
Charles now announced to Parliament the approaching departure of the queen, and, to soften the irritation which he dreaded, he officially abandoned the prosecution of the five members, and nominated as governor of the Tower Sir John Conyers, who had been designated by the Commons; but when the bill for the exclusion of the bishops was presented to him, he was agitated and perplexed. His conscience opposed the acceptance. His best advisers, with the exception of Hyde, urged him to consent to it. The ordinance respecting the soldiery, which the leaders held in reserve, was more important in their eyes, for it completely disarmed the king. He could not refuse everything; the bishops were vanquished and in prison. … The king continued to hesitate; the queen intervened; she did not trouble herself in any way concerning the bishops, and feared that the House might oppose her departure. She supplicated, wept, flew into a passion, and, as usual, the king yielded, sorrowfully, regretfully, but he authorized commissioners to sign in his name, and set out to accompany his wife as far as Dover, where she was to embark.
The Commons were of the same opinion as Colepepper, and made a stand at the question of the soldiery even more than at that of the bishops. They followed the king with their messages as far as Dover, and on his return, having insisted upon a prompt sanction of the ordinance which they sent him, the king replied vaguely, but ill-humoredly, being exasperated by the persistent distrust of the Commons, as though his concessions had been sincere. On arriving at Greenwich, he there found his son, the Prince of Wales, whom the Marquis of Hertford, his tutor, had brought, notwithstanding the prohibition of the House. Being reassured as to the fate of his wife and children, he at length replied to Parliament, consenting to entrust the soldiery to the commanders who were designated, except in large towns, but preserving the right of dismissing them. He thereupon set out for York.
The Houses received the reply of the king as a formal refusal. At Theobalds, and at Newark, fresh messages reached him, haughty at first, then marked by a certain emotion, betraying itself in spite of the firmness of the language. The king was implored to return to London, and to come to an understanding with his people. Upon the brink of an unknown future, dark and troublous, all hesitated and reciprocally endeavored each to influence the other. The negotiations came to no issue, and they were carried on without hope of arriving at any result. Negotiations, however, continued. It was on behalf of the public, of the whole nation, rather than of an immediate and present adversary that the opposition contended. It was in the name of the liberties of old England, of the traditional rights of the people, invaded by royal tyranny, that the resistance of Parliament had begun; it was now in the name of the traditional rights of the crown, attacked by the innovations of Parliament, that the royalist party, every day stronger and more ardent, defended their cause. The ardor of men's minds was immense; the movement universal, strange, irregular. In London, in York, in all the great towns of the kingdom, pamphlets, periodicals, irregular journals increased in numbers, and were circulated in all directions. Amidst this outburst of views of all parties, and in the face of an appeal of so novel a kind, to the opinion of the people—even while the principle of national sovereignty in opposition to the divine right of kings had taken possession of all minds and was the foundation of all proceedings—the statutes, traditions, customs, were incessantly invoked as the only legitimate tests of the discussion. Revolution was everywhere in progress, though no one dared to say so, or even avow it to himself.
The situation became day by day more violent and more strained. A great number of members of Parliament had left London, many had joined the king at York. The Houses in their turn entered upon the path of tyranny. Lord Herbert and Sir Ralph Hopton, having raised their voices in favor of the king, one was placed in the Tower, the other censured and threatened; the royalist petitions were suppressed. Cromwell, as yet not very conspicuous in the House, but more involved than any other in the plots of the revolution, brought special ability to bear upon tracing out and denouncing the royalist conspiracies.