CHAPTER XV

THE SECOND SAILING

The next day the Prince of Orange re-entered Helvoetsluys attended by

four maimed ships, the rest having been utterly scattered and dispersed

by the fearful storm; he then, though giddy and scarce able to stand

through seasickness, proceeded, with a serene composure, to go from ship

to ship animating his discomfited followers, and refused to be put on

shore, lest it should be taken as a sign that he was discouraged in his

enterprise and intended to postpone his sailing till the spring.

For the next week the great ships of war with tattered sails and broken

masts came creeping out of the ports and creeks where they had taken

shelter to join the fleet at Helvoetsluys.

Many of the horses had been thrown overboard to save the others, and one

transport had been lost on the coast of Ireland, but there was no

further damage, and the Prince by his great constancy, enthusiasm,

spirit, and courage soon had all repaired and made fit, though he caused

it to be put in the Dutch Gazette that he was utterly confounded and his

forces so broken by the storm that he could not possibly sail before

April, and copies of these Gazettes he saw were smuggled into England,

where they were read by King James, who was mightily pleased by this

news--and said it was no wonder since the Host had been exposed a week,

and thereupon he withdrew all the concessions that the reported coming

of the Prince had frightened him into, and so showed plainly that fear

and not desire had wrung them from him; and both the relaxing and the

tightening of his rule were fatally too late for his fortunes, for men

had no longer any trust in his word or sincerity, and half the great

lords were pledged to the Prince, and the greater number thought there

could be no salvation save in his coming, so gave no heed to the actions

of the King, but watched the weather-cocks and prayed for a Protestant

wind.

Within Whitehall was a medley of priests and women, mingled with some

honest gentlemen who really were loyal to the Kingship and the House of

Stewart, and who were in no way listened to, and silent courtiers who

were pledged to William, about the stern foolish King who alternated

between weak hesitation and self-confident obstinacy.

Sunderland had kept the business of the Kingdom together, and now

Sunderland was gone everything fell into bewildering chaos; the King,

distracted between the advices of M. Barillon and the fears of Father

Petre, the tears of the Italian Queen and the sullen coldness of his

nobles, bitterly regretted Sunderland, whose intrigues he had not as yet

any glimpse of. There was a fine fleet the King might have relied on,

and the Admiral, Lord Dartmouth, was loyal enough, but the Duke of

Grafton, son of the late King, and a rude handsome rake, went down

privately to Plymouth and extorted a secret promise from most of the

Captains that they would not fight for a Catholic King against a

Protestant Prince.

The Army was gathered on Hounslow Heath with the object of overawing the

capital, and the advice of those spirited gentlemen who were truly

desirous to see the King retain his dignities was that he should put

himself at the head of it and so advance to meet the invader.

But the spirit that had inspired James when he was rowed with his flag

through the fires of Solebay had long left him; his courage had been the

mere flash of youth and noble blood; he was old now, and his soul sank

before danger; the terrors of his father's fate, the miseries of his own

exiled youth, came upon him with horrible vividness; he let disasters

crowd down upon him, and clung to his priests and his faith with the

despair of stupidity.

Meanwhile the Prince of Orange, having taken a second leave of his wife

and the States, sailed with great pomp, the sound of trumpets, the

flutter of flags, and the discharge of artillery, from Helvoet, having

been but eleven days repairing his ships, replacing his horses, and

reassembling his fleet, and having, by the serenity of his behaviour,

the unfaltering decision of his actions, the wisdom of his proposals,

snatched glory from disappointment, as was ever the way of this Prince.

The little advice packets that darted out from the coast of England to

watch his movements reported that he was making for the north, in which

direction, with a brisk gale in his sails, he indeed steered for twelve

hours; but when the night fell and the advice packets had hastened home

with news, the Prince signalled to his fleet to tack about, which it

did, and, with all the sail it could spread, put before the wind to the

westward, and under a fair sky bore for the coasts of Devon.

This ruse had its full effect, for Lord Feversham, who commanded the

English troops, was bid march northwards, and all the cattle were

ordered to be driven from the coasts of Yorkshire.

With the next dawn the Dutch van made the Channel, along which it

stretched for twenty miles in full view of England and France, the

shores of both these countries being covered with spectators who viewed

a sight such as had not been seen in these waters since the great Armada

crossed these seas, a hundred years before.

The magnificence of this procession of mighty ships, which took seven

hours to pass, going at their full speed before a strong east wind, the

strength and purpose that they symbolized, the power of the Religion,

once despised and oppressed, but that now was able to split the world

into factions, whose name showed beneath the arms of Orange, that family

which of all others had been most distinguished in the defence of

liberty, the sheer pomp of war in the great vessels with their guns,

flags, and netting, their attendant ships and companies of soldiers on

board, the prestige of the man who led this daring expedition, all

combined to thrill the hearts of those who watched, whether on the

French or English coasts, whether they uttered curses or blessings,

prayers for failure or success.

About noon, they then being in Calais roads, the Prince gave orders to

lay by, both to call a council of war and to strike terror into the two

watching nations by displaying his strength in this narrow sea.

Accordingly he himself changed to the foremost vessel, taking with him

his own standard, and there waited for the rest of the armament to come

up, which they presently did, and formed into one body, sixteen ships

square, only a league at each side, from either shore, and when they

were drawn up, the Prince, from that ship which was nearest the English

coast, signalled that the two famous forts of Calais and Dover were to

be saluted, which was done at the same moment with great thunder of the

deep-mouthed artillery, which was an astonishing spectacle that there

should be in Dover Straits a fleet so huge that it could salute these

two forts at the same time and be but a league from either. There was

something awful in the sound of this warlike courtesy, to the ears of

both nations, and some awe and terror mingled with their admiration as

the smoke obscured the green dancing waves.

From Dover Castle there was no reply, the doubt of England being

expressed in this silence; but from Calais came a proud answering salute

as from a mighty foe who honours himself by the formalities of respect

to his adversary, and the Prince standing on the upper deck amid the

slow-clearing gunpowder vapour flushed to hear again the French guns who

had last spoken to him among the heights of St. Denis, ten years ago.

At the council of war now held it was decided that the disposition of

the fleet should be changed, for news had come that the English, who lay

at the Gunfleet, were making full endeavours to overtake and fight the

Dutch, for though Lord Dartmouth knew that half his officers were

pledged to the Prince, and his men very doubtful of engaging in the

cause of the King, yet he resolved to use his utmost powers to prevent

the landing of His Highness, for he was under personal obligations to

James, who had always treated him more as a friend than a subject, and

was filled with an honourable desire to serve His Majesty in this

crisis.

The Prince, knowing this from my Lord Grafton, was eager to avoid a

conflict, for however well disposed the English sailors might be to his

religion and person, he wisely suspected that a nation so proud, and in

particular so jealous of their prestige on the sea, would, when faced in

order of battle with those people whom they had so often and so recently

fought, forget everything save the desire to achieve a victory over that

Republic which alone disputed with them the over-lordship of the ocean.

For this reason His Highness had given Admiral Herbert the command of

his armament, that the English might salve their arrogance by the

thought that an Englishman led this invading force; yet he secretly

believed that the names of Herbert and Russell would not prove so potent

a motive for peace, as the sight of the foreign flags, jacks, and

haughty ships would prove an incentive to rage in the bosoms of the

British, who could endure, it seemed, any hardship but the idea of

foreign dominion.

Therefore it was decided that the Prince and the transports with the

troops should continue to lead the van with three ships of war to guard

him, and so, sailing down the Channel, make the coast of England, in the

west, and that the bulk of the fleet should remain in the van ready to

engage the English should they leave their station and venture into the

open straits.

But this, though it was the thing he most longed to accomplish, Lord

Dartmouth found impossible, for that east wind so favourable to the

hopes of the Prince was a tyrant to him and held him helpless abreast of

the Long Sands, with his yards and topmasts down incapable of purchasing

his anchors, while he beheld some of the Dutch vessels pass within his

very sight making triumphantly for the coast he was bidden protect while

his ships rode at their station useless as a fishing fleet.

And this was in some part the fault of my Lord Dartmouth, who cursed the

wind in a passion of misery, for he had ignored the advice of His

Majesty, who was a knowing man in naval affairs, which was to anchor

east of the Gallopper, so that his ships might be free to move which way

they pleased, instead of which he acted on his own sense, which was not

equal to the King's advice; as was proved, for the scouts, who were left

at the Gallopper, captured a Dutch transport, and if they had been

greater in strength might have served the whole body of the invader the

same.

Now in full sight of the shores of these two countries, England and

France, the Dutch fleet performed their evolutions, with the pomp of

war, the discharge of artillery, the music of trumpets and drums, and

the salutes of the entire armament to the ship which carried the Prince

and his standard as she made her way to the van; and this all under a

blue sky crystal-clear that reflected in the tumbling waves lashed by

the strong high English wind a hundred tints of azure and water-green,

above which the smoke hung in light vapours.

The Prince, under full sail, made for Torbay, which was large enough to

contain a great number of the transports, but the Dutch pilot, not being

just in his reckoning, went past both that port and the next, which was

Dartmouth. The third port was Plymouth, but this being a naval station

and a well-fortified place, the Prince was by no means inclined to risk

a landing there, since he was not certain of the disposition of the

inhabitants towards him, and his great object on land, as on sea, was to

avoid a combat, since his sole argument for interfering in the affairs

of England was the wish of the English themselves and the invitation of

their principal nobles, as he had acknowledged in his Declaration, and

it would give a very ill look to this claim of his if his landing was

opposed by a bloody fight.

Yet to tack about to enter Torbay was attended by almost equal danger,

since the wind had changed, and Lord Dartmouth with his entire fleet had

left Long Sands and was now under full sail in pursuit.

The Prince, distracted by these conflicting considerations, knew not

what course to take, and was tortured by the most cruel anxiety, since

to either advance or retire might be followed by misfortunes fatal to

his whole design.

While he was still undecided as to what orders to give and which risks

to choose, the wind changed in an instant to the south, which had the

effect of bringing the Prince within a few hours into Torbay and forcing

the English Admiral back to Long Sands.

It being the 4th of November when the Prince saw the cliffs of Devon and

the great natural harbour overlooked by the tourelles and towers of

Brixham and Torquay, he was anxious to effect a landing there, because

it was both his birthday and the anniversary of his marriage, and so he

put off in a cock boat with a few of the English nobles and M. Bentinck,

and came ashore at Brixham, where there were none but fishermen to

receive him, the which stood about staring half in admiration, half in

awe, thinking maybe of Monmouth's landing not so far off nor so long

ago, and how the county had suffered for it under the executions of my

Lord Chief Justice.

The Prince called for horses, which were being landed as fast as might

be where the water was shallower; yet it was not possible to make the

landing effectual till the morrow, and but few of the transports were

able to land that night.

The Prince, who had well studied the map of England, resolved to march

to Exeter and there wait the coming of his English friends; but for this

night the wooden tent that he used in war was put up in a neighbouring

field, to the great amazement of the country-folk, who had never beheld

anything of this nature.

The friends and followers of the Prince being gathered about him to

congratulate and flatter, among them came his chaplain, Dr. Burnet,

expounding in his usual talkative excitement on the marvellous success

of the expedition.

The Prince was more than ordinarily cheerful, and spared the rebuke with

which he usually checked the meddling enthusiast.

He gave the Englishman his hand, and looking round the darkening

landscape said, with a smile--

"Well, doctor, what do you think of predestination now?"

God and the King · 第 15 / 21 章