"I wrote to Lord Liverpool and Lord Castlereagh, to demand the insertion of my name in the liturgy of the Church of England," declared the queen, "at the same time that the order was given to all the ambassadors, ministers and English consuls to recognize me and to treat me as Queen of England. After the address of Lord Castlereagh in reply to that of Mr. Brougham, I have no other insult to fear. I demand that a palace be prepared for my reception. I fly toward England, which is my true country." {446} All the generous sentiments of the English nation, as well as its contempt for the character and habits of its sovereign, were shown in the ardent and sympathetic reception which greeted the arrival of Queen Caroline on the sixth of June, 1820. "They have erased her name from the liturgy," said her faithful and honest counsellor, Mr. Denham, "but all England prays for her in praying for those who are desolate and oppressed." In the midst of her popular triumph, all attempts at compromise were rejected by the queen, notwithstanding the advice of her eminent advisors, Brougham and Denham. The king demanded a divorce, which his ministers refused to second; public excitement was increasing; for a moment some regiments of infantry seemed to waver in their fidelity. Political maneuvres increased the agitation; the leaders of the radical opposition espoused the cause of the queen; she addressed a petition to the House of Lords, demanding the authority to defend herself. The government finally took the initiative, with regret, and constrained by the violence of royal and popular passions, Lord Liverpool presented to Parliament his Bill of Pains and Penalties, formally accusing Queen Caroline of conjugal infidelity, and demanding a divorce, in the name of King George IV. The venerable Lord Eldon remarked with judicious sagacity, before the arrival of Caroline: "Our queen threatens to come to England; if she ventures here, she is the most courageous woman I have ever heard of. The evil she will do by coming will be incalculable. At the outset she will be immensely popular with the multitude; I give her only a few weeks, or at the most, a few months, to lose the opinion of the entire world." {447} It was a sad and unheard of spectacle to see a sovereign publicly arraigning his wife before the supreme tribunal. A great multitude besieged the environs of Westminster, insulting those ministers and peers that they knew were opposed to the accused queen, and saluting her defenders with acclamations. Popular passion had judged well the doubts and uncertainties which enveloped the principal facts and the formal accusations; it closed its eyes, however, to the license of life and language which the corrupt and contradictory testimony of foreigners reluctantly revealed.