Winchelsea; which Sir Basil Dixwell put a stop to by telling him surely
they were good enough to take care of him. Which occasioned the King's
saying he found there was more civility among the common people than some
gentlemen, when he was returned to Whitehall.--_Dartmouth_.]
As soon as it was known at London that the King was gone, the 'prentices
and the rabble, who had been a little quieted when they saw a treaty
on foot between the King and the Prince, now broke out again upon all
suspected houses, where they believed there were either priests or
papists. They made great havoc of many places, not sparing the houses of
ambassadors. But none was killed, no houses burned, nor were any robberies
committed. Never was so much fury seen under so much management. Jeffreys
finding the King was gone, saw what reason he had to look to himself, and,
apprehending that he was now exposed to the rage of the people whom he had
provoked with so particular a brutality, he had disguised himself to
make his escape. But he fell into the hands of some who knew him. He was
insulted by them with as much scorn and rudeness as they could invent. And,
after many hours tossing him about, he was carried to the lord mayor, whom
they charged to commit him to the Tower, which Lord Lucas had then seized,
and in it had declared for the Prince. The lord mayor was so struck with
the terror of this rude populace, and with the disgrace of a man who had
made all people tremble before him, that he fell into fits upon it, of
which he died soon after.
Upon the news of the King's desertion, it was proposed that the Prince
should go on with all possible haste to London. But that was not advisable.
For the King's army lay so scattered through the road all the way to London
that it was not fit for him to advance faster than his troops marched
before him; otherwise, any resolute officer might have seized or killed
him. Though, if it had not been for that danger a great deal of mischief
that followed would have been prevented by his speedy advance; for now
began that turn to which all the difficulties that did afterward disorder
our affairs may be justly imputed. Two gentlemen of Kent came to Windsor
the morning after the Prince came thither. They were addressed to me; and
they told me of the accident at Feversham, and desired to know the Prince's
pleasure upon it. I was affected with this dismal reverse of the fortune
of a great prince more than I think fit to express. I went immediately to
Benthink and wakened him, and got him to go to the Prince and let him
know what had happened, that some order might be presently given for the
security of the King's person, and for taking him out of the hands of a
rude multitude who said they would obey no orders but such as came from the
Prince.
The Prince ordered Zuylestein to go immediately to Feversham, and to see
the King safe and at full liberty to go whithersoever he pleased. But as
soon as the news of the King's being at Feversham came to London, all the
indignation that people had formerly conceived against him was turned to
pity and compassion. The privy council met upon it. Some moved that he
should be sent for. Others said he was king, and might send for his guards
and coaches as he pleased, but it became not them to send for him. It was
left to his general, the Earl of Feversham, to do what he thought best. So
he went for him with his coaches and guards. And, as he came back through
the city, he was welcomed with expressions of joy by great numbers; so
slight and unstable a thing is a multitude, and so soon altered. At his
coming to Whitehall, he had a great court about him. Even the papists crept
out of their lurking-holes, and appeared at court with much assurance.
The King himself began to take heart. And both at Feversham, and now at
Whitehall, he talked in his ordinary high strain, justifying all that he
had done; only he spoke a little doubtfully of the business of Magdalen
College. But when he came to reflect on the state of his affairs, he saw it
was so soon broken that nothing was now left to deliberate upon. So he
sent the Earl of Feversham to Windsor without demanding any passport, and
ordered him to desire the Prince to come to St. James' to consult with him
of the best way for settling the nation.
When the news of what had passed at London came to Windsor, the Prince
thought the privy council had not used him well, who after they had sent to
him to take the government upon him, had made this step without consulting
him. Now the scene was altered and new counsels were to be taken. The
Prince heard the opinions, not only of those who had come along with him,
but of such of the nobility as were now come to him, among whom the Marquis
of Halifax was one. All agreed that it was not convenient that the King
should stay at Whitehall. Neither the King, nor the Prince, nor the city,
could have been safe if they had been both near one another. Tumults would
probably have arisen out of it. The guards and the officious flatterers of
the two courts would have been unquiet neighbors. It was thought necessary
to stick to the point of the King's deserting his people, and not to
give up that by entering upon any treaty with him. And since the Earl of
Feversham, who had commanded the army against the Prince, was come without
a passport he was for some days put in arrest.
It was a tender point now to dispose of the King's person. Some proposed
rougher methods: the keeping him a prisoner, at least till the nation was
settled, and till Ireland was secured. It was thought his being kept in
custody would be such a tie on all his party as would oblige them to submit
and be quiet. Ireland was in great danger. And his restraint might oblige
the Earl of Tyrconnel to deliver up the government, and to disarm the
papists, which would preserve that kingdom and the Protestants in it. But,
because it might raise too much compassion and perhaps some disorder if the
King should be kept in restraint within the kingdom, therefore the sending
him to Breda was proposed. The Earl of Clarendon pressed this vehemently on
account of the Irish Protestants, as the King himself told me, for those
that gave their opinions in this matter did it secretly and in confidence
to the Prince. The Prince said he could not deny but that this might be
good and wise advice, but it was that to which he could not hearken; he
was so far satisfied with the grounds of this expedition that he could act
against the King in a fair and open war; but for his person, now that he
had him in his power, he could not put such a hardship on him as to make
him a prisoner; and he knew the Princess' temper so well that he was sure
she would never bear it: nor did he know what disputes it might raise, or
what effect it might have upon the Parliament that was to be called; he was
firmly resolved never to suffer anything to be done against his person; he
saw it was necessary to send him out of London, and he would order a guard
to attend upon him who should only defend and protect his person, but not
restrain him in any sort.
A resolution was taken of sending the Lords Halifax, Shrewsbury, and
Delamere to London, who were first to order the English guards that were
about the court to be drawn off and sent to quarters out of town, and when
that was done the Count of Solms with the Dutch guards was to come and take
all the posts about the court. This was obeyed without any resistance or
disorder, but not without much murmuring. It was midnight before all was
settled. And then these lords sent to the Earl of Middleton to desire him
to let the King know that they had a message to deliver to him from the
Prince. He went in to the King, and sent them word from him that they might
come with it immediately. They came and found him abed. They told him the
necessity of affairs required that the Prince should come presently to
London; and he thought it would conduce to the safety of the King's person
and the quiet of the town that he should retire to some house out of town,
and they proposed Ham.
The King seemed much dejected, and asked if it must be done immediately.
They told him he might take his rest first, and they added that he should
be attended by a guard who should only guard his person, but should give
him no sort of disturbance. Having said this, they withdrew. The Earl of
Middleton came quickly after them and asked them if it would not do as well
if the King should go to Rochester; for since the Prince was not pleased
with his coming up from Kent it might be perhaps acceptable to him if he
should go thither again. It was very visible that this was proposed in
order to a second escape.
They promised to send word immediately to the Prince of Orange, who lay
that night at Sion, within eight miles of London. He very readily consented
to it. And the King went next day to Rochester, having ordered all that
which is called the moving wardrobe to be sent before him, the Count of
Solms ordering everything to be done as the King desired. A guard went with
him that left him at full liberty, and paid him rather more respect than
his own guards had done of late. Most of that body, as it happened, were
papists. So when he went to mass they went in and assisted very reverently.
And when they were asked how they could serve in an expedition that was
intended to destroy their own religion, one of them answered, his soul
was God's, but his sword was the Prince of Orange's. The King was so much
delighted with this answer that he repeated it to all that came about him.
On the same day the Prince came to St. James'. It happened to be a very
rainy day. And yet great numbers came to see him. But, after they had stood
long in the wet, he disappointed them; for he, who loved neither shows
nor shoutings, went through the park. And even this trifle helped to set
people's spirits on edge.
The revolution was thus brought about with the universal applause of the
whole nation; only these last steps began to raise a fermentation. It was
said, here was an unnatural thing to waken the King out of his sleep, in
his own palace, and to order him to go out of it when he was ready to
submit to everything. Some said he was now a prisoner, and remembered the
saying of King Charles I, that the prisons and the graves of princes lay
not far distant from one another; the person of the King was now struck at,
as well as his government, and this specious undertaking would now appear
to be only a disguised and designed usurpation. These things began to work
on great numbers. And the posting of the Dutch guards where the English
guards had been, gave a general disgust to the whole English army. They
indeed hated the Dutch besides, on account of the good order and strict
discipline they were kept under; which made them to be as much beloved by
the nation as they were hated by the soldiery. The nation had never known
such an inoffensive march of an army. And the peace and order of the
suburbs, and the freedom of markets in and about London, were so carefully
maintained that in no time fewer disorders had been committed than were
heard of this winter.
None of the papists or Jacobites was insulted in any sort. The Prince had
ordered me, as we came along, to take care of the papists and to secure
them from all violence. When he came to London he renewed these orders,
which I executed with so much zeal and care that I saw all the complaints
that were brought me fully redressed. When we came to London I procured
passports for all that desired to go beyond the sea. Two of the popish
bishops were put in Newgate. I went thither in the Prince's name. I told
them the Prince would not take upon him yet to give any orders about
prisoners; as soon as he did that, they should feel the effects of it. But
in the mean while I ordered them to be well used, and to be taken care of,
and that their friends might be admitted to come to them; so truly did I
pursue the principle of moderation even toward those from whom nothing of
that sort was to be expected.
Now that the Prince was come, all the bodies about the town came to welcome
him. The bishops came the next day. Only the Archbishop of Canterbury,
though he had once agreed to it, yet would not come. The clergy of London
came next. The city, and a great many other bodies, came likewise, and
expressed a great deal of joy for the deliverance wrought for them by the
Prince's means. Old Sergeant Maynard came with the men of the law. He was
then near ninety, and yet he said the liveliest thing that was heard of on
that occasion. The Prince took notice of his great age, and said that he
had outlived all the men of the law of his time; he answered he had liked
to have outlived the law itself if his highness had not come over.
The first thing to be done after the compliments were over was to consider
how the nation was to be settled. The lawyers were generally of opinion
that the Prince ought to declare himself king, as Henry VII had done. This,
they said, would put an end to all disputes, which might otherwise grow
very perplexing and tedious; and they said he might call a Parliament which
would be a legal assembly if summoned by the king in fact, though his title
was not yet recognized. This was plainly contrary to his declaration, by
which the settlement of the nation was referred to a parliament; such a
step would make all that the Prince had hitherto done pass for an aspiring
ambition only to raise himself; and it would disgust those who had been
hitherto the best affected to his designs, and make them less concerned in
the quarrel if, instead of staying till the nation should offer him the
crown, he would assume it as a conquest.
These reasons determined the Prince against that proposition. He called all
the peers and the members of the three last parliaments that were in town,
together with some of the citizens of London. When these met it was told
them that, in the present distraction, the Prince desired their advice
about the best methods of settling the nation. It was agreed in both these
Houses, such as they were, to make an address to the Prince, desiring
him to take the administration of the Government into his hands in the
_interim_. The next proposition passed not so unanimously; for, it being
moved that the Prince should be likewise desired to write missive letters
to the same effect, and for the same persons to whom writs were issued out
for calling a parliament, that so there might be an assembly of men in the
form of a parliament, though without writs under the great seal, such as
that was that had called home King Charles II.
To this the Earl of Nottingham objected that such a convention of the
states could be no legal assembly unless summoned by the King's writ.
Therefore he moved that an address might be made to the King to order the
writs to be issued. Few were of his mind. The matter was carried the other
way, and orders were given for those letters to be sent round the nation.
The King continued a week at Rochester. And both he himself and everybody
else saw that he was at full liberty, and that the guard about him put him
under no sort of restraint. Many that were zealous for his interests went
to him and pressed him to stay and to see the issue of things: a party
would appear for him; good terms would be got for him; and things would be
brought to a reasonable agreement. He was much distracted between his own
inclinations and the importunities of his friends. The Queen, hearing what
had happened, writ a most vehement letter to him, pressing his coming over,
remembering him of his promise, which she charged on him in a very earnest
if not in an imperious strain. This letter was intercepted. I had an
account of it from one that read it. The Prince ordered it to be conveyed
to the King, and that determined him. So he gave secret orders to prepare a
vessel for him, and drew a paper, which he left on his table, reproaching
the nation for their forsaking him. He declared that though he was going to
seek for foreign aid to restore him to his throne, yet he would not make
use of it to overthrow either the religion established or the laws of
the land. And so he left Rochester very secretly on the last day of this
memorable year and got safe over to France.
H.D. TRAILL
The convention for filling the vacant throne met on January 22d, when
Halifax was chosen president in the Lords; Powle speaker of the Commons. A
letter from William, read in both Houses, informed their members that he
had endeavored to the best of his power to discharge the trust reposed in
him, and that it now rested with the convention to lay the foundation of a
firm security for their religion, laws, and liberties. The Prince then went
on to refer to the dangerous condition of the Protestants in Ireland, and
the present state of things abroad, which obliged him to tell them that
next to the danger of unreasonable divisions among themselves, nothing
could be so fatal as too great a delay in their consultations. And he
further intimated that as England was already bound by treaty to help the
Dutch in such exigencies as, deprived of the troops which he had brought
over, and threatened with war by Louis XIV, they might easily be reduced
to, so he felt confident that the cheerful concurrence of the Dutch in
preserving this kingdom would meet with all the returns of friendship from
Protestants and Englishmen whenever their own condition should require
assistance.
To this the two Houses replied with an address thanking the Prince for his
great care in the administration of the affairs of the kingdom to this
time, and formally continuing to him the same commission, recommending to
his particular care the present state of Ireland. William's answer to this
address was characteristic both of his temperament and his preoccupation.
"My lords and gentlemen," he said, "I am glad that what I have done hath
pleased you; and since you desire me to continue the administration
of affairs, I am willing to accept it. I must recommend to you the
consideration of affairs abroad which makes it fit for you to expedite your
business, not only for making a settlement at home on a good foundation,
but for the safety of Europe."
On the 28th the Commons resolved themselves into a committee of the whole
House, and Richard Hampden, son of the great John, was voted into the
chair. The honor of having been the first to speak the word which was on
everybody's lips belongs to Gilbert Dolben, son of a late archbishop of
York, who "made a long speech tending to prove that the King's deserting
his kingdom without appointing any person to administer the government
amounted in reason and judgment of law to a demise." Sir Robert Howard, one
of the members for Castle Rising, went a step further, and asserted that
the throne was vacant. The extreme Tories made a vain effort to procure
an adjournment, but the combination against them of Whigs and their own
moderates was too strong for them, and after a long and stormy debate
the House resolved "That King James II, having endeavored to subvert the
constitution by breaking the original contract between the King and people,
and by the advice of Jesuits and other wicked persons having violated the
fundamental laws and withdrawn himself out of the kingdom, has abdicated
the government, and that the throne is thereby vacant."
This resolution was at once sent up to the Lords. Before, however, they
could proceed to consider it, another message arrived from the Commons to
the effect that they had just voted it inconsistent with the safety and
welfare of this Protestant nation to be governed by a popish king.
To this resolution the Peers assented with a readiness which showed in
advance that James had no party in the Upper House, and that the utmost
length to which the Tories in that body were prepared to go was to support
the proposal of a regency. The first resolution of the Commons was then put
aside in order that this proposal might be discussed. It was Archbishop
Sancroft's plan, who, however, did not make his appearance to advocate it,
and in his absence it was supported by Rochester and Nottingham, while
Halifax and Danby led the opposition to it. After a day's debate it was
lost by the narrow majority of two, forty-nine peers declaring in its favor
and fifty-one against it.
The Lords then went into committee on the Commons' resolution, and at once
proceeded, as was natural enough, to dispute the clause in its preamble
which referred to the original contract between the King and the people. No
Tory, of course, could really have subscribed to the doctrine implied in
these words; but it was doubtless as hard in those days as in these to
interest an assembly of English politicians in affirmations of abstract
political principle, and some Tories probably thought it not worth while
to multiply causes of dissent with the Lower House by attacking a purely
academic recital of their resolution. Anyhow, the numbers of the minority
slightly fell off, only forty-six Peers objecting to the phrase, while
fifty-three voted that it should stand. The word "deserted" was then
substituted without a division for the word "abdicated," and, the hour
being late, the Lords adjourned.
The real battle, of course, was now at hand, and to anyone who assents
to the foregoing criticisms it will be evident that it was far less of a
conflict on a point of constitutional principle, and far more of a struggle
between the parties of two distinct--one cannot call them rival--claimants
to the throne than high-flying Whig writers are accustomed to represent
it. It would, of course, be too much to say that the Whigs insisted on
declaring the vacancy of the throne, _only_ because they wished to place
William on it, and that the Tories contended for a demise of the crown,
_only_ because they wished an English princess to succeed to the throne
rather than a Dutch prince. Still, it is pretty certain that, but for this
conflict of preferences, the two political parties, who had made so little
difficulty of agreeing in the declaration that James had ceased to reign,
would never have found it so hard to concur in its almost necessary
sequence that the throne was vacant.
The debate on the last clause of the resolution began, and it soon became
apparent that the Whigs were outnumbered. The forty-nine peers who had
supported the proposal of a regency--which implied that the royal title was
still in James--were bound, of course, to oppose the proposition that the
throne was vacant; and they were reënforced by several peers who held that
that title had already devolved upon Mary. An attempt to compromise the
dispute by omitting the words pronouncing the throne vacant, and inserting
words which merely proclaimed the Prince and Princess of Orange king and
queen, was rejected by fifty-two votes to forty-seven; and the original
clause was then put, and negatived by fifty-five votes to forty-one.
Thus amended by the substitution of "deserted" for "abdicated," and
the omission of the words "and that the throne is thereby vacant," the
resolution was sent back to the Commons, who instantly and without a
division disagreed with the amendments. The situation was now becoming
critical. The prospect of a deadlock between the two branches of the
convention threw London into a ferment; crowds assembled in Palace Yard;
petitions were presented in that tumultuous fashion which converts
supplication into menace. To their common credit, however, both parties
united in resistance to these attempts at popular coercion; and William
himself interposed to enjoin a stricter police of the capital. On Monday,
February 4th, the Lords resolved to insist on their amendments; on the
following day the Commons reaffirmed their disagreement with them by two
hundred eighty-two votes to one hundred fifty-one. A free conference
between the two Houses was then arranged, and met on the following day.