The bells were ringing for Cromwell's overwhelming victory at Preston when the news came that Ulster was safe as yet and Ireland reprieved. In an outburst of gratitude the Houses ordered a public thanksgiving, voted the hero of the hour a letter of thanks, appointed him Governor of Belfast, gave him the disposal of Carrickfergus and a gratuity of £500, and resolved to try and pay all his men's arrears. From that moment his fortune was made. The Independents were now supreme. For them his blow had been struck, and people began to forget he had ever drawn sword for the King. Still in spite of his success his position in Ireland was anything but enviable. The Parliament was triumphant in England, but the account was still open between the Independents and the Presbyterians, and until it was closed little could be done for the relief of Ireland. Even when Cromwell had settled it with a squad of musketeers, and the execution of Charles had removed the great obstacle to a permanent settlement, much remained to be done before the great Irish Expedition could start. For the moment history turned on the race for Ireland, and a close race it was. The execution of Charles was followed by the Scots of Ulster declaring unanimously against the Republic. Coote was shut up in Derry, and Monk with the greatest difficulty escaped a surprise, and took refuge in Dundalk.[4] The situation was growing desperate indeed. The Royalists held the whole country with the exception of the ground which was covered by the guns of the garrisons, or occupied by O'Neill's Nationalists. The English Expedition was far from ready, and Ormonde was leaving no stone unturned to make the whole island his own before it could sail. Again he was tempting Jones and Coote, though again he did not waste time on Monk. He was offering baits to O'Neill. He was urging the new King to come over and complete the work with his presence. So well was he working that in February the Papal Nuncio fled, leaving him in possession of the field. O'Neill's supporters began to desert. Every day the country which the Ulster chief could call his own grew less and less. The fall of Dublin and the other English garrisons began to stare the English Council in the face. Something must be done to stave off the end yet a little while, and the strangest and most obscure of all that time is the story of the means the Council employed for the work. CHAPTER V THE TREATY WITH THE IRISH NATIONALISTS