Thus Henrietta, bidding a long farewell to Montagu, who set out almost immediately for France, embarked once more. This time the sea was kinder to her, but the land proved her enemy. She intended landing at Newcastle-on-Tyne, but a change in the wind, which until the English coast was near had been very light, drove the vessel into Burlington Bay in Yorkshire. The Queen at once sent to inform the Earl of Newcastle, who was commanding the royalist forces in the neighbourhood. She had not long to wait before she received his answer in the shape of a body of cavalry, whose arrival enabled her to land. But, weary as she was, there was no rest for her. She brought with her a thousand old soldiers from the Low Countries, for she had heard rumours of a plot to seize her on landing. They, as well as the escort sent by her husband, were needed, for at four o'clock on the dark February morning she was roused by the sound of firing. Four of the Parliament ships had arrived in the bay, and they were shelling the village, with special attention, it appeared, to the Queen's lodgings.[279] In a few moments Jermyn appeared and told her to flee for her life. She jumped up, and having hastily flung on some clothing was hurrying to a place of refuge when suddenly she stopped, remembering that lying asleep on her bed was her pet dog, Mitte--an ugly beast, says Madame de Motteville, who was evidently no lover of the canine race, in recounting the story. Henrietta could not bear to leave her pet to death, or possibly to ill-treatment;[280] so, notwithstanding the entreaties of her friends and the rain of bullets that was falling, she insisted on retracing her steps to the house she had just left. It was the work of a few minutes to rush to her room and pick up Mitte. Then with all speed she sought an uncomfortable safety in a ditch outside the village, where for two hours the balls played over the heads of the Queen and her suite, until at last the Admiral of Holland sent to tell the rebels that unless they desisted he would fire on them in return. "That was done a little late,"[281] was Henrietta's caustic and characteristic comment. No less characteristic was her high-spirited return to the village the next morning, "not choosing that they should have the vanity to say they made me quit."[282] In spite of all her spirits rose at finding herself again in England, and she had the satisfaction of knowing that she brought with her substantial help in the way of arms, ammunition, and money, which her gallant soldiers had guarded through that night of battle. Her great wish was to rejoin her husband as soon as possible, and setting herself at the head of her army she started to march towards Oxford, where Charles was keeping his Court.