But how hollow and insincere these words were was very shortly to be made apparent. Probably Charles himself recognised their tone of insincerity, and was doubtless much better pleased with the ‘purse of curious workmanship, containing one hundred guineas’ which accompanied the giving of the ‘Hull favour.’ That night the King lodged at the house of Sir John Lister[53] in High Street—that known to us as ‘Wilberforce House’—the next night he lodged at Beverley, and the following day he again reached York. Footnote 53: The King knighted his host during his visit. * * * * * These events were happening in the month of April, 1639. On the twenty-third of the same month three years later, Charles paid his second visit to Hull. And what a different reception was then to await him! During these three years the relations between King and Parliament had been steadily growing more strained. Each recognised the possibility of there being in the future an appeal to arms; and each recognised, too, the importance of possessing ‘the most important fortress in the whole kingdom, and its vast magazine, which far exceeded the collection of warlike stores in the Tower of London.’[54] Footnote 54: In 1639 the military stores at the King’s Manor in Hull included 50 cannon, 200,000 muskets, carbines, pistols, and swords, 1,800 spades, shovels, and wheelbarrows, with powder, shot, and match to the value of upwards of £6000. Other stores of armour, powder, cannon balls, and musket shot purchased in Holland were added in the same year. It was the King’s misfortune that Parliament, and not he, secured possession of Hull. Early in 1642 the Commons appointed Sir John Hotham, Member of Parliament for Beverley, to be Governor of Hull; and sent him down to take possession of the town, with orders not to deliver it up without the King’s authority ‘signified by both Houses.’ On April 23rd the King himself set out from York on the same errand, taking care to send forward from Beverley an officer charged with the message that the King would shortly arrive to dine with the Governor of the town. But the result of this message was not what the King had expected it to be. Having consulted Mr. Pelham, one of the two Members of Parliament for the town, Sir John Hotham caused the bridges to be drawn up, the gates to be closed, and the walls to be lined with soldiers. The Mayor and townsfolk were ordered to keep within their houses. It was eleven o’clock in the morning when the King, with a bodyguard of some three hundred soldiers, arrived before the Beverley Gate, where only three years before he had received such a cordial welcome. Now, when he commanded Sir John Hotham to open the Gate, he was met with a polite refusal. The Governor was very sorry to have to disobey the King’s command, but ‘he durst not open the gates to him, being intrusted by the Parliament with the safety of the town.’