Philip’s return. Weary as Henrietta was, she would not go to rest; and no one else could think of it. At length they heard the last news that could reach them that night. The King had at once admitted the messengers; but it did not appear that he had considered what he should say. If he had, he had forgotten it. He took notice of no one of the four but Lord Falkland; asked a question, and did not wait for the answer before giving his own. He would send an answer in the morning to what the Commons had said: and he dismissed the messengers so hastily, that their coach was half-way between Whitehall and Westminster Hall before Philip could overtake it.
What of his father?
Mr. Hampden was in good health and heart. Yes, Philip had seen him. He could not say where he had seen him. A quiet night was needful to all the accused members after so memorable a day, and in face of such a day as the next. Mr. Hampden sent his love to his household, and prayed them to have no uneasiness on his account. He was firm in his innocency; and he was under the pledged protection of the Parliament, because the cause was that of the Parliament. He bade his children good night, and was himself going to rest.
His children went to rest, awestruck at the thought of their father being under public accusation as a traitor, and wondering what could come of such an impeachment of such a man, but in no way doubting of his personal safety. The war which had been so long spoken of in whispers as too probable seemed now very near. It would be fearful; but their father was safe for this night. Little did they imagine how the night was passed by the King’s household. Some of his gentlemen went to rouse the lawyers of the Four Inns with commands to form themselves into a guard early in the morning. Some went into the City to hold consultation with the chief magistrate, and demand the use of the trained-bands in the King’s service. The night was so used, that by the time the Houses met at ten o’clock, the streets and roads were swarming with armed men. It seemed scarcely likely that the day would pass over without bloodshed,—so furious were the Royalist guards at the spectacle of the trained-bands marching past Whitehall, instead of stationing themselves there. They were going to protect the Parliament. The King had miscalculated when he supposed, from his late reception in the City, that its forces were on his side.
Philip went out immediately after breakfast, having arranged with Lady Carewe for a service of messages throughout the morning, by means of the grooms.
The first tidings were simply that Mr. Hampden was in the House, looking well, and in his usual quiet spirits. After that, all the rest was astounding.
The King’s coach was ordered and brought up in great haste. The King was going to Westminster. The King was attended by an army of guards; and their insolence was so great that it was scarcely possible that the peace should be preserved. The boast among them was that the King was going to put down rebellion with a high hand: he was going to lay his grasp on his enemies in their own House, and pull them out of the very seats from which they had uttered their treasons: he was going to take such order that he should really reign from this day forward, and that turbulent men should trouble the kingdom no more.
Then came the news that the King had gone to Westminster surrounded by his prodigious armed escort, who had filled all the passages of the House, and crowded up to the very door of the Commons chamber, and within it. The King had surprised the House—or intended to surprise it—by his rapid approach and sudden entrance; but the intention must have got wind.
Lady Carewe was glad she had prevailed with Henrietta to keep her chamber this morning; for it was overwhelming, even to her, to hear that the King had himself gone down without notice, to apprehend the accused members. Strong news however is seldom or never concealed. A scream from Henrietta’s chamber told that she knew all. She had come out upon the landing, and learned from the servants what had been told below.
It was to little purpose that Philip himself soon assured her that their father was safe. “He had escaped—”
“Escaped!”
“Yes,—escaped from the King’s grasp. It was the barest escape! By some means Mr. Pym was warned of the danger; and the five members had just withdrawn when His Majesty entered. ‘Where are they?’ Why, that is what all the world is asking. What is certain is that they passed out by boat just as His Majesty descended from his coach; and that the City will take no less precious care of those five members of their House than of the choicest treasures of old London.”
Philip was, in another moment, gone. He was thirsty as on a midsummer day, and hoarse; but he was very happy. His honoured father was that day a representative of the national cause; and his proud son had no serious apprehension of any immediate personal danger. Before returning to the scene of excitement, Philip sent off a messenger to Hampden with the news. It was well that his report of Henrietta was not an hour later in date.
The agitation was too great for her, “O! if I could see Lady Carlisle for one quarter of an hour!” she sighed, when she knew what was about to happen.
She was indulged. By the river the distance was not great, and the passage was clear; and Lady Carlisle came during the hour that was her own, after the Queen’s passion at the King’s misadventure had subsided. Lady Carlisle’s heart was too full for control when she and Henrietta were alone. She answered freely the agonised questions which were put to her.
No doubt Mr. Hampden and Mr. Pym and their comrades had been in great danger of arrest for high treason. ‘How had they escaped?’—Mr. Pym had been warned. There had been distinct but ill-explained warnings for some days; but—Well! she would let Henrietta know the truth,—sure that her dear child would make no ill use of it.