It was clear from the debates that the men who were most eager for a Puritan reformation of the Church—Cromwell, Pym, Hampden, St. John, Hazelrig, Strode, and others—were also most eager to take from the king his power over the army and the appointment of all officers in the State. The Church party were, therefore, almost driven to side with the king, when he declared for the maintenance of the Church as it already existed.

The two parties were narrowly divided. The Remonstrance was carried in the Commons at midnight in November, 1641, by a majority of only eleven. The division was now a division between Parliamentarians and Royalists. For the Puritans, though reduced to a small majority, were determined to force their way. "If the Remonstrance had not passed," said Cromwell, "I would have sold all I had the next morning, and never have seen England any more."

Charles had now a splendid opportunity for both good and evil. The Church party was ready to his hand. By acting in open alliance with it, but avoiding all plots and appeals to force, he might soon have regained his position. But within a few months he had made a worse mistake than ever.

Charles had at his command a body-guard composed of reckless ruffians. He had tried to place the Tower of London in charge of one of the worst of these soldiers named Lunsford, and Charles only dismissed him after a warning that the London apprentices would storm the Tower unless Lunsford were removed. One affray had already taken place between Lunsford and the citizens, and the Commons had asked the king for a guard to protect the Houses of Parliament.

Charles answered that "the security of all and every one of you is as much our care as the preservation of us and our children." Yet, within a few days, fearing that some Puritan members intended to impeach the queen, he had Lord Kimbolton, together with the Five Members, Pym, Hampden, Holles, Hazelrig, and Strode, impeached of high treason, for plotting with the Scots to invade England. Charles intended, by having the leaders thrown into prison, to strike terror into his enemies.

But the news of his plans leaked out. The members took refuge in the City. Charles hesitated until his foolish, but high-spirited wife urged him. "Go, you coward, and pull these rogues out by the ears, or never see my face again."

At three o'clock on January 4th he threw himself into a coach at Whitehall, and, followed by hundreds of his armed soldiers (among them many noted ruffians), went to the House of Commons.

No king had ever before entered the House of Commons. The soldiers remained at the doors. "By your leave, Mr. Speaker, I must borrow your chair a little," he said. "Gentlemen, I am sorry for the occasion of coming unto you. . . . No king that ever was in England shall be more careful of your privileges, . . . yet you must know that in cases of treason, no person hath a privilege, and therefore I am come to know if any of those persons that were accused are here.

"Is Mr. Pym here?" There was no answer.

"Are any of these persons in the House?"

"May it please your Majesty," answered Lenthall, the Speaker, "I have neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak in this place, but as this House is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am here."

"Well," said the king, "I think my eyes are as good as another's. I see all the birds are flown. I do expect from you that you shall send them unto me as soon as they return hither."

As he retired, cries of "Privilege" were raised. The soldiers had waited impatiently. "They had come," said one of them afterwards, because they heard that the House of Commons would not obey the king, and therefore they came to force them to it. If the word had been given, they should certainly have fallen upon the House of Commons."

Next day the king went to the City to demand from the Common Council in the Guildhall the Five Members. The streets were crowded, and there were cries of "Privilege of Parliament." On his way back, a bold man threw into his coach a paper, on which were written the ominous words, "To your tents, O Israel."

That night a large number of the trained bands, and many other citizens armed with halberds, swords and clubs, appeared in the streets, prepared to resist any attack by Royalist guards, and to defend the Parliament against any further assaults. The House of Commons accepted, as guard, companies of the City trained bands. Some thousands of Buckinghamshire squires and yeomen, Hampden's friends, marched into London to protect their hero.

The king prepared for flight, and on January 10th he left Whitehall. It was not until seven years afterwards that he entered once more the palace of Whitehall, a prisoner, on his way to trial in Westminster Hall.