More than once in the early days of the civil war which had now fairly broken out in the country, the King seemed to miss that tide in his affairs which, if taken at the flood, promised to lead on to an issue very different from that one which he did ultimately reach. After the battle of Edgehill, though the Royalists suffered many reverses, their star was undoubtedly in the ascendant. There were several reasons for this, chief among them possibly, that the country at heart had not the desire to fight, father against son, brother against brother. Differences of political and religious creed might be sharply defined, but for such trials by ordeal of bloodshed a large majority of men on either side was not willing. General sympathy consequently belonged to the Royalists, who were regarded as on the defensive. In a sense the Royalists were the popular party. They had rallied round their King in his hour of need, and sentiment was with them, as it is still, and as it is likely to remain till the end of time—or at least until that day when the name of king is wiped out from speech. Reason and prudence and much more that is desirable might weigh heavily in the Parliamentary balance, but chivalry and brightness of spirit and loyal daring had their fascinations. The sombre Puritan belief was setting in more and more darkly over the land, and the youthful English nobility and yeomanry had no mind for it. By education and rearing, they revolted against its limitations. They were not, on this account, all such reckless, daredevil, licentious fighters, any more than the men of the opposite party were all prick-eared, pragmatical pretenders to holiness; but that the strength of the Royalists lay in an element which the Parliamentarians did not possess, Cromwell, now rapidly coming to the front, was not slow to recognise. Discussing this question one day with Hampden, the astute lieutenant who was to eclipse the lustre of all the members of his party, replied to Hampden’s speculative remarks upon the weakness of their own cavalry men, and the strength of the King’s—“What can your expect? Our cavaliers are old menials or pot-house lads; theirs are sons of gentlemen, younger members of families of high rank. We ought to have men animated by a spirit which is able to make them go as far as gentlemen may go; otherwise I am certain that you will always be beaten.” “That is true,” said Hampden. “But what can be done?” “I can do something,” replied Cromwell. “I will bring up men who have the fear of God before their eyes, and who will put some conscience into what they do. I will answer for it that they will not be beaten.” Then he went to work and beat up recruits from among the tenantry of the Eastern counties—men who engaged in the contest for conscience sake, fiery fanatics, who spent in prayer the time they did not give to fighting. Thus came into the world Cromwell’s Ironsides.