Once again, a year later, there was a lifting of the clouds. In 1647 it became evident that the Puritan party was growing weary of the Presbyterian tyranny. As is commonly the case in revolutions, wilder and stronger spirits were crowding out the more moderate reformers who had begun the battle. The Independents, to whom in large measure the victories of Marston Moor and Naseby were due, had control of the army, and the great figure of Cromwell, which soon was to bestride England like a Colossus, was coming to the front. In the late spring it seemed as if Charles and the Presbyterians might come to terms. On June 4th a deputation from the army waited on the King at Holmby House, where he was imprisoned, took possession of his person, and carried him off to Newmarket. The Independents showed great respect for their royal prisoner, and it seemed as if they would be willing to make an accommodation with him. Henrietta, in Paris, whither all news was quickly carried, thought with her usual hopefulness that at last, at the darkest hour, the day was dawning. There happened to be at her Court two gentlemen who seemed well fitted to act as intermediaries between Charles and the Independents; one of them, Sir John Denham, the bearer of a name which is still remembered in English literature, had improved a sojourn in prison by making friends with that worthy army chaplain Hugh Peters, who was closely connected with the Independent leaders; the other, Sir Edward Ford, was Ireton's brother-in-law. These two slipped across the Channel, and they were permitted to see the King; but whether the Queen did not feel much confidence in her envoys (and, indeed, Denham was a rash and headstrong man who died insane), or whether her restlessness would not permit her to cease from fresh attempts to improve her husband's position, she determined to send another emissary of higher standing to intermeddle in this delicate negotiation. Just at this time Sir John Berkeley, who had distinguished himself during the war as Governor of Exeter, was returning from Holland, whither he had been to express the Queen's condolences on the death of the Prince of Orange. He was almost unknown to Henrietta personally, but she was aware of his reputation for loyalty and good sense, and she knew also perhaps that he was regarded with respect by the enemy; he had hardly arrived at S. Germain-en-Laye, where she was keeping her Court, when he accidentally fell in with one of her servants, Lord Culpepper. "You must prepare for another journey, Sir John," said the latter; "the Queen designs to send you into England."