The whole town was in an intoxication of delight. Bonfires were lit,

guns fired, bells rung all night, and the Pope in effigy was burnt in

several places--one before the door of Whitehall itself; another was

kindled before the door of the Earl of Salisbury, who had lately gone

over to Popery; and his servants, in their ill-timed zeal, rushing out

to extinguish it, were attacked, and, firing on the people, killed

the parish beadle, who was come to attempt what they themselves were

attempting--to put out the fire. That morning James had gone to review

his troops on Hounslow Heath. He received the news of the acquittal

by a special messenger while in Lord Feversham's tent. He was greatly

enraged, and set out at once for London. Before, however, he was clear

of the camp the news had flown amongst the soldiers, and a tremendous

cheering startled him. "What noise is that?" demanded James. "Oh!"

said the general, "it is nothing but the soldiers shouting because the

bishops are acquitted." "And call you that nothing?" asked James; and

added angrily, "but so much the worse for them."

The very day which pronounced the acquittal of the bishops saw signed

and despatched an invitation from the leading Whigs to William

of Orange to come over and drive the tyrant from the throne. The

Whigs had long been contemplating and preparing for this end; they

now saw that the crisis was come. The brutal and besotted king had

effectually alienated all hearts from him. From him nothing but

destruction of every liberty and sentiment that Englishmen held dear

was to be expected; and in the heir which was now, as was generally

believed, foisted on the nation by the king and the Jesuits, there

was only the pledge of the reign of Popery and proscription, and of

the extermination of all those high hopes and privileges which were

entwined with Protestant freedom. The Whig leaders had sent repeatedly

to William to stimulate him to the enterprise; but, apart from his

habitual caution and the salutary fear that Monmouth's reception

had inspired, the Prince of Orange had many difficulties to contend

with from the peculiar constitution of the Dutch Republic, and the

peculiar views and interests of his allies. Though at the head of

the Dutch confederation, he had always experienced much opposition

from individual states and cities, especially Amsterdam, which his

great enemy, Louis of France, managed to influence. This invitation

called him to expel from his throne a Catholic king, and replace his

Government by a Protestant one, though the Pope and Spain, the most

Catholic of countries, were his close allies, and must not be offended.

He had, therefore, stipulated that he should receive such an invitation

under the hands and seals of the Whig leaders as should leave little

doubt of his reception, and that he should be regarded as the saviour

from an intolerable ruler, and not forced to attempt a conquest which

must in its very success bring ruin by wounding the national pride of

England.

He now received a paper, signed by the Earls of Shrewsbury, Devonshire,

and Danby, Lord Lumley, Bishop Compton, Edward Russell, the Admiral of

England, and Henry Sidney, the brother of the late Algernon Sidney,

and afterwards Earl of Romney. This paper, which had been furnished at

William's request, was but the result of negotiations between himself

and the Whig leaders for some time. He now called into council with the

English envoy his confidential friends, Bentinck and Dykvelt, and it

was resolved that the time for action was come, and that the invitation

should be accepted. In the meantime, whilst William began in earnest,

but as secretly as circumstances would allow, his preparations, James

at home did everything which a foolish and obstinate ruler could do to

complete the alienation of the affections of his subjects. He returned

from his camp to his capital only to find it in transports of delight

over his own defeat, and resounding with the explosions of guns and

crackers, with drinkings of the health of the bishops in the streets,

and with the effigy of the Pope blazing before his own gate. So far

from making him pause at the contemplation of the avowed and universal

spirit of his people, he was only the more exasperated, and continued

muttering, "So much the worse for them." He determined to take

summary vengeance on the clergy, on the lawyers who had opposed or

deserted him, on the army, and on the people. He at once promoted Mr.

Solicitor-General Williams, for his unscrupulous conduct on the trial

of the bishops, to a baronetcy, and would have placed so convenient

a man on the bench could he have spared him at the bar. He dismissed

Powell and Holloway; he determined to visit with his vengeance all the

clergy throughout the kingdom who had refused to read the Declaration;

and an order was issued to all the chancellors of the dioceses and the

archdeacons to make a return of them. No matter that they approached

ten thousand in number; if necessary, he would drive them all from

their benefices. The judges on the circuits were ordered to denounce

these refractory clergy, and to speak in the most derogatory terms

of the bishops. He broke up his camp, the soldiers of which had been

intended to overawe the capital, and stand by whilst he destroyed the

national Constitution and the national religion; but had now terrified

and disgusted him by drinking the healths of the liberated bishops.

But all his angry attempts only recoiled on himself, and showed more

clearly than ever that the reins of power were irrecoverably slipping

from his fingers. The spell of royalty--a people's respect--was utterly

broken. The chancellors and archdeacons paid no attention to the order

for reporting their independent brethren; the High Commission met,

and, so far from finding any returns, received a letter from one of

the most truckling of their own body, Sprat, Bishop of Rochester,

resigning his place in the High Commission. If such a man saw the

handwriting on the wall, the warning, they felt, must be imminent, and

they departed in confusion. The judges, on their part, found themselves

deserted on their circuits; nobody but the sheriff and his javelin

men came to meet them, and then went through their duties amid every

sign of indifference to their dignity. They were treated, not as the

high-minded judges of England, but as the base and venal tools of a

most lawless and mischievous monarch. The soldiers were as bold in

their separate quarters as they had been in camp. James thought he

could deal with them separately, and tried the experiment by ordering a

regiment of infantry, which had been raised in the Catholic district of

Staffordshire, to sign an engagement to support him in dispersing all

the rest, or to quit the army. Almost to a man they piled their arms,

and the confounded king was obliged to withdraw the order. But James

had a remedy even for the defection of the army. In Ireland the brutal

and debauched Tyrconnel had been busily engaged in drilling Irish

Celts, and preparing an army so strongly Catholic that he might by this

means carry out the royal design of repealing the Act of Settlement,

and driving the Protestant colonists from their lands. These troops

James sent for, regiment after regiment, and the people of England

saw, with equal indignation and alarm, that their liberties, their

religion, their laws, were to be trodden down, and the kingdom reduced

to a miserable abode of slaves by the wild tribes of the sister island,

vengeful with centuries of unrequited oppressions. This put the climax

to the national resentment, and still more pressing messages were sent

over to William to hasten his approach, and leaders of party in large

numbers contemplated a speedy transit to his standard. It was at this

juncture that the wild genius of Wharton gave vent to the pent-up

feelings of Protestant wrath, by the adaptation of the old Irish tune

of "Lillibullero" to English words.

William, meanwhile, was making strenuous preparations for his

enterprise. He formed a camp at Nimeguen, collecting troops and

artillery from the different fortresses. Twenty-four additional ships

of war were fitted out for service, and arms and accoutrements were

in busy preparation in every manufactory in Holland. He had saved up

unusual funds for him, and had money also pouring in from England and

from the refugee Huguenots, who hoped much from his enterprise in

favour of Protestantism. It was impossible that all this preparation

could escape the attention of other nations, and especially of

the quick-sighted Louis XIV. of France. But William had a ready

answer--that he wanted an extra squadron to go in pursuit of a number

of Algerine corsairs which had made their appearance off the Dutch

coasts. The military preparations were not so easily explained; but

though Louis was satisfied that they were intended against England,

James, blind to his danger, as strongly suspected that they were meant

to operate against France. The only enemies which William had to really

dread were Louis and the Council of Amsterdam, which Louis had so

long influenced to hostility to William, and without whose consent no

expedition could be permitted. But the ambition and the persecuting

bigotry of Louis removed this only difficulty out of William's way

in a manner which looked like the actual work of Providence. The two

points on which Amsterdam was pre-eminently sensitive were trade and

Protestantism. Louis contrived to incense them on both these heads.

His unrelenting persecution of the Huguenots, including also Dutch

Protestants who had settled in France, raised an intense feeling in

Amsterdam, stimulated by the outcries and representations of their

relatives there. To all appeals for tolerance and mercy Louis was

utterly deaf; and whilst this feeling was at its height, he imposed a

heavy duty on the importation of herrings from Holland into France.

Sixty thousand persons in Holland depended on this trade, and the

effect was, therefore, disastrous. In vain did the French envoy, Avaux,

represent these things; Louis continued haughty and inexorable.

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE HAGUE: THE HALL OF THE KNIGHTS IN THE

BINNENHOF.]

These circumstances, in which the pride and bigotry of Louis got the

better of his worldly policy, completed the triumph of William of

Orange. He seized on them to effect a removal of the long-continued

jealousies of the Council of Amsterdam against him. He entered into

negotiations with the leading members of the Council through his

trusty friends Bentinck and Dykvelt, and as they were in the worst of

humours with Louis, the old animosities against William were suffered

to sleep, and he obtained the sanction of the States-General to his

proposed expedition for the release of England from the French and

Catholic influences, and its reception into the confederation of

Protestant nations. Another circumstance just at this crisis occurred

to strengthen all these feelings in Holland and Germany, and to account

for any amount of troops collected at Nimeguen. The aggressions of

Louis had roused and combined all Europe against him. Powers both

Catholic and Protestant had felt themselves compelled to unite in order

to repress his attempts at universal dominion. The King of Spain, the

Emperor of Germany, the King of Sweden had entered into the League of

Augsburg to defend the empire; and to these were added various Italian

princes, with the Pope Innocent XI. himself at their head. Louis had

not hesitated to insult the Pope on various occasions, and now he

saw the pontiff in close coalition with heretic princes to repel his

schemes.

In May of this year died Ferdinand of Bavaria, the Elector of Cologne.

Besides Cologne, the elector possessed the bishoprics of Liége,

Münster, and Hildesheim. In 1672 Louis had endeavoured to secure a

successor to the Elector in the French interest. He therefore proposed

as his coadjutor the Cardinal Furstemberg, Bishop of Strasburg;

and he would have succeeded, but it was necessary, in order to his

choice, that Furstemberg should first resign his bishopric; to this

the Pope, in his hostility to Louis, would not consent; he refused

his dispensation. But now, the Elector having died, the contest was

renewed. Louis again proposed the cardinal; the allies of the League

of Augsburg nominated the Prince Clement of Bavaria, who was elected

and confirmed by the Pope, though a youth of only seventeen years of

age. The allies were equally successful in the bishoprics of Liége,

Münster, and Hildesheim; but the principal fortresses, Bonn, Neutz,

Kaiserswerth, and Rheinberg, were held by the troops of Furstemberg,

and therefore were at the service of France. Louis was, however,

exasperated at the partial defeat of his plans, and complained loudly

of the partiality of the Pope, and began to march troops to the support

of Furstemberg.

But whilst Louis was actually planning a sweeping descent on the German

Empire, in which William of Orange lay pre-eminently in his way, he

was at the same time in danger of a more momentous occurrence--that

of William leaving the way open by sailing for England. If William

should succeed in placing himself on the throne of England, he would

be able to raise a far more formidable opposition to his plans of

aggrandisement than he had ever yet done. Even with his small resources

he had proved a terrible enemy, and had arrayed all Europe against him;

what would he do if he could bring all the powers of England by land

and sea to co-operate with Holland, Spain, Austria, Sweden, and the

Netherlands? The stupidity of James and the offended pride of Louis

saved William in this dilemma, and led Louis to commit on this occasion

the cardinal blunder of his reign.

It was impossible that Louis could be ignorant of what William was

doing. The preparations of ships and troops were indications of a

contemplated attack somewhere. It might be directed to resist the

French on the side of Germany; but other facts equally noticeable

demonstrated that the object was England. Avaux, the French envoy at

the Hague, in the absence of Abbeville, who was on a visit to England,

noticed, in the months of April and May, a swift sailing boat, which

made rapid and frequent passages between England and Rotterdam; and he

noticed that, after every arrival from England, there were closetings

of William and the English Whig leaders at the Hague, especially

Russell. After the birth of the heir-apparent of England, William

despatched Zulestein to London with his professedly warm, though they

could not be very sincere, congratulations on the event; but soon

after, on the escape to the Hague of Rear-Admiral Herbert, who was

supposed to carry the invitation of the leading Whigs to William, the

prince omitted the child's name in the prayers for the royal family of

England, and openly expressed his doubts of his being the real child of

the queen.

These circumstances, the continued activity of the military

preparations, the constant sailings of this mysterious boat, and the

subsequent closetings, with the continual growth of the number of

distinguished English refugees at the Hague, satisfied the French

envoy that a descent on England was certain and nigh at hand. Avaux

not only warned Louis of the imminent danger, but he warned James by

every successive mail from the Hague, through Barillon. Louis took

the alarm. He despatched Bonrepaux to London to arouse James to a due

sense of his peril, and offered to join his fleet with an English one

to prevent the passage of the Dutch armament. He held a powerful body

of troops ready to march to the frontiers of Holland, and ordered Avaux

to announce to the States-General that his master was fully cognisant

of the warlike preparations of the Stadtholder; that he was quite

aware of their destination, and that, as the King of England was his

ally, he should consider the first act of hostility against James as a

declaration of war against himself. He at the same time declared the

Cardinal Furstemberg and the Chapter of Cologne under his protection.

Simultaneously the same message was delivered to the Spanish Governor

of Flanders, and Marshal d'Humières was despatched to take the command

of the French army in that quarter.

This plain declaration fell like a thunderbolt into the midst of the

States-General. There was the utmost evident confusion. A poor and

embarrassed excuse was made, and a courtier sent post haste to fetch

William from Minden, where he was in secret negotiation with the

Elector of Brandenburg. If James took the alarm, and Louis, as was his

intent, went heartily into the coalition to defeat the enterprise,

it must become a most hazardous undertaking, even if it were at all

feasible. But the folly of that most wrong-headed of the Stuarts again

saved the Prince of Orange, and removed the last difficulty out of the

way of his enterprise. James would not believe a word of the warning.

He would not believe that his own daughter would sanction an attempt

at his dethronement. He would not believe that William's armament had

any other object than the King of France himself. He highly resented

the declaration of Louis that there was an alliance between them, as

calculated to alarm his own subjects, especially his Protestant ones.

He received Bonrepaux with cold hauteur in return for his offers of

assistance; and Van Citters, the Dutch ambassador, with proportionate

cordiality, who hastened on the part of the States to assure him that

the French communications were sheer inventions. He gave orders that

all the foreign ministers should be informed that there was no such

league between France and England as Louis had pretended for his own

purposes.

In fact, James was living all this time in the midst of a set of

traitors, who, even to his most confidential minister, Sunderland, had

secretly gone over to William, and were putting him in possession of

every daily thought, word, and intention of their master. Besides the

seven that had signed, and of whom Admiral Russell was already with

William, the Earl of Shrewsbury had fled to him, having mortgaged his

estates and taken forty thousand pounds with him, and offered it to

the prince. The two sons of the Marquis of Winchester, Lord Wiltshire,

and a younger brother; Halifax's son, Lord Eland; Danby's son, Lord

Dumblaine; Lord Lorne, the son of the unfortunate Earl of Argyll;

Lord Mordaunt, Gerard, Earl of Macclesfield, and Admiral Herbert

were already with him. Herbert had been appointed Admiral to the

Dutch fleet, with a pension of six thousand pounds a year. Wildman,

Carstairs, Ferguson, Hume, who had escaped from the Argyll and Monmouth

expeditions, went there; and, whilst the sons of Halifax and Danby

were with William, they themselves, though remaining in England with

Devonshire, Lumley, and others, were sworn to rise in his favour the

moment he landed. But the worst of the unsuspected traitors at his

own Court were the Lords Churchill and Sunderland. James had made

Churchill almost everything that he was; on Sunderland he had heaped

benefits without stint or measure. He had scraped money together

by all possible means; and James did not merely connive at it, he

favoured it. This meanest of creeping things was in the pay of France

to the amount of six thousand pounds per annum; he had a pension from

Ireland of five thousand pounds more; as President of the Council he

occupied the post of Prime Minister, and derived immense emoluments

from fines, forfeitures, pardons, and the like. Rather than lose his

place, he had openly professed Catholicism; but scarcely had he thus

sold his soul for his beloved pelf and power, when he saw as plainly

as any one else that the ground was sliding from under the feet of his

foolish master, and was overwhelmed with consternation. He hastened

again to sell himself to William, on condition that his honours and

property should be secure; and thus had James his very Prime Minister,

his most confidential and trusted servant, at every turn drawing out

all his plans and thoughts, and sending them to his intended invader.

Sunderland's wife was the mistress of Sidney, who was at the Hague;

and, through her, this most contemptible of men sent constantly his

traitorous communications to her paramour, and so to William.

With such snakes in the grass about him, James was completely blinded

to his danger. Churchill and Sunderland persuaded him that there was

no danger from Holland, and inflamed his resentment at what they

called the presumption of Louis. They were completely successful; and

Sunderland, after the establishment of William in England, made a

boast of this detestable conduct. Louis was so much disgusted by the

haughty rejection of his warning, that he himself committed a gross

political error. Instead of preventing the descent on England, and the

aggrandisement of his great opponent William--by far the most important

measure for him--by directly attacking the frontiers of Holland, and

keeping William engaged, in his vexation he abandoned the besotted

James, and made an attack on the German Empire. Dividing his army, one

portion of it, under the Marquis of Boufflers, seized Worms, Mainz,

and Treves; a second, under Humières, made itself master of Bonn; and

a third, under the Duke of Duras and Marshal Vauban, took Philippsburg

by storm. The greater part of the Rhine was at once in Louis's hands,

and great was the triumph in Paris. But not the less was the exultation

of William of Orange; for now, the French army removed, and the mind of

Louis incensed against James, the way was wide open for him to England.

No time was now lost in preparing to depart. A Memorial, professing to

be addressed by the Protestants of England to the States, but supposed

to have been drawn up by Burnet, was published, accompanied by two

declarations in the name of William to the people of England and

Scotland. These latter were the work of the Grand Pensionary Fagel,

but condensed and adapted more to the English taste by Burnet. In the

Memorial the people of England were made to complain of the wholesale

violation of the Constitution and the liberties of his subjects by

James, and of the attempt to fix a false and Popish heir on the nation.

They called on William to come over and vindicate the rights of his

wife, and at the same time to rescue the country of her birth and her

rightful claims from Popery and arbitrary power.

The Declaration to England and Scotland in reply was drawn with

consummate art. William admitted that he had seen with deep concern

the fundamental and continual violations of the laws of the kingdom.

The contempt of Acts of Parliament; the expulsion of just judges from

the bench to make room for the servile instruments of oppression; the

introduction of prohibited persons into both the State and Church, to

the jeopardy of freedom and true religion; the arbitrary treatment

of persons of dignity by the illegal High Commission Court; the

forcible introduction of Papists into the colleges; the removal of

lords-lieutenants, and the destruction of corporations which stood

firmly for the rights and religion of the nation; the attempt to impose

a spurious and Popish issue on the throne, and the equally atrocious

attempt to tread down English liberties by an army of Irish Papists:

for these reasons William declared himself ready to comply with the

prayers of the English people, and to come over with a sufficient force

for his own protection, but with no intention or desire of conquest,

but simply to restore freedom by an independent Parliament, to inquire

into the circumstances attending the birth of the pretended prince, and

to leave everything else to the decision of Parliament and the nation.

He declared that he should endeavour to re-establish the Church of

England and the Church of Scotland, and at the same time to protect the

just rights of other professors of religion willing to live as good

subjects in obedience to the laws.

When copies of these papers were sent to James by his ambassador,

Abbeville, from the Hague, the delusion of the affrighted monarch was

suddenly and rudely dissipated. He gazed on the ominous documents--in

which his subjects invited a foreign prince to take possession of his

throne, and that prince, his son-in-law, accepted the proposal--with

a face from which the colour fled, and with a violently trembling

frame. Fear at once did that which no reason, no accumulation of the

most visible signs of his vanishing popularity could ever effect. He at

once hastened to make every concession. He summoned his Council, and

forwarded a despatch to the Hague, declaring that he regarded the siege

of Philippsburg by Louis as a breach of the Treaty of Nimeguen, and

that he was ready to take the field against him in conjunction with the

forces of Spain and Holland. Before an answer could be received, James

hurried forward the work of retractation. When he looked around him

there was not a power or party that he had not alienated--the Cavaliers

and Tories who fought for his father, and supported his brother through

a thousand arbitrary measures; the Church, the Dissenters, the army,

the navy, the bench, the bar, the whole people, held in constant terror

of being made the abject victims of Popish domination, he had, in his

insane rage for his religion, offended, injured, and alarmed beyond

measure. He now sought to win back the able Halifax; he issued a

proclamation, protesting that he would protect the Church, and maintain

the Act of Uniformity; that Catholics should no longer be admitted

to Parliament or the Council. He sent for the bishops, and asked for

their earnest advice in the restoration of public affairs. He ordered

the restoration of the deposed magistrates and lords-lieutenants;

he reinstated Compton, Bishop of London; he gave back the charter

to the City, and, a few days after, the charters of the provincial

corporations; he immediately abolished the Court of High Commission;

and finally replaced Dr. Hough and the ejected fellows of Magdalen

College in full possession of their house and privileges.

These sweeping concessions showed plainly that the tyrant knew very

well how odious his encroachments had been, and that nothing but

fear could force their abandonment from his ungenerous soul. They

had, therefore, the less effect. There was public rejoicing, indeed,

but it was for the victory over the mean despot, not for gratitude

for concessions which it was felt would be resumed the moment danger

should pass; and this feeling was deepened by an accident. The Bishop

of Winchester was sent down to Oxford to formally reinstate the

principal and fellows of Magdalen, but was as suddenly recalled; and

this event, coupled with a rumour that the Dutch fleet had put to

sea, but was dispersed by a storm and put back, made the people more

firmly conclude that no faith could be reposed in the words of James.

The bishop, it was contended, had been temporarily recalled on urgent

affairs; but the effect remained the same. Still, the City of London

celebrated the recovery of its charter with much rejoicing, and sent

a deputation to express their gratitude to the king. The Dukes of

Somerset, Ormond, and Newcastle, the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls

of Derby, Nottingham, and Danby, and the Bishop of London, declared

their fidelity, and the prelates issued a form of prayer for the safety

and prosperity of the royal family.

[Illustration: WILLIAM OF ORANGE EMBARKING TO JOIN THE "BRILL." (_See

p._ 338.)]

Whilst James was exerting himself to conciliate his subjects, he was

equally industrious in putting the kingdom into a posture of defence.

He made Lord Dartmouth Commander of the Fleet, which consisted of

thirty-seven men-of-war, and seven fire-ships--a naval force inferior

to that of the prince, and, still worse, weak in the principles of

loyalty, though Dartmouth himself might be relied on. His army,

including about six thousand Irish and Scots, amounted to forty

thousand men--more than enough to repel the force of the invaders, had

the hearts of the men been in the cause.

William was compelled to delay his embarkation for more than a week by

tempestuous weather. His fleet, under the command of Herbert, which

was lying off Scheveningen, on the 28th of September, was compelled

to seek shelter in Helvoetsluys. The wind raged furiously till the

15th of October, and public prayers were offered in the churches for

more favourable weather. All attempts to invade England had, since

William of Normandy's enterprise, been notoriously defeated by storms;

and the people became so superstitious on this head that it was found

necessary, under severe penalties, to forbid foreboding language.

On the 16th, the wind abating, William took a solemn leave of the

States-General. He thanked them for their long and devoted support of

him in his endeavours for the independence of Europe, and committed

his wife to their protection whilst he was absent for the same great

object, and the security of the Protestant religion. He declared that

if he died it would be as their servant; if he lived, it would be as

their friend. The Pensionary Fagel, now old and failing, replied with

great emotion; and, amid the tears of most present, William stood like

a stoic, without any visible agitation. The deputies of the principal

towns accompanied him to the water side, and that evening he went on

board his frigate the _Brill_. The next day a public fast was held in

the Hague, with sermons and prayers for the success of the expedition,

and Mary continued to retain her place in the church in public during

the long service from half-past ten in the morning till half-past seven

in the afternoon.

On the afternoon of the 19th the fleet sailed from Helvoetsluys, the

men-of-war, in three divisions, forming a long line out at sea, and the

transports driving before the breeze nearer land. The day was fine, the

wind steady from the south-west; and as the eventful squadron passed

the sandy downs of Scheveningen, the inhabitants of the Hague crowded

them in thousands, and raised acclamations of anticipated success. But

the scene rapidly changed. By ten o'clock at night a furious tempest

was again raging, which dispersed the fleet, sank one ship, damaged

many others, compelled them to throw overboard great quantities of

stores, and destroyed a thousand horses through their being closed down

under hatches. The fleet managed to regain Helvoetsluys, which William

himself reached on the 21st. He refused to go on shore, but sent to the

States for fresh supplies, and busied himself in pushing on his repairs.

The news of this disaster reached England with many aggravations, so

that it was imagined that the expedition would be given up for that

season; and James declared with much satisfaction that it was what he

expected, the Host having been exposed for several days. He seized,

however, the time afforded by this delay to assemble an extraordinary

body, the members of the Privy Council, the peers who were in or near

London, the judges, the law officers of the Crown, the Lord Mayor and

aldermen, the queen-dowager, and two-and-twenty women--some ladies

about the queen, some menials. The Princess Anne was summoned, but

excused herself on account of indisposition. "I have called you

together," said James, "upon a very extraordinary occasion; but

extraordinary diseases must have extraordinary remedies. The malicious

endeavours of my enemies have so poisoned the minds of many of my

subjects, that, by the reports I have from all hands, I have reason

to believe that many do think this son which God has pleased to bless

me with be none of mine, but a supposititious child." The witnesses

were all examined on oath except the queen-dowager, and presented such

a mass of evidence as was undoubtedly complete, and it was enrolled

in chancery and published. But such was the intense prejudice of the

age that it failed to convince the public at large. As Anne was not

present, the Council waited on her with a copy of the evidence, on

which she observed, "My lords, this was not necessary; the king's word

is more to me than all these depositions." Yet her uncle, Clarendon,

assures us that she never mentioned the child but with ridicule, and

only once was heard to call it the Prince of Wales, and that was when

she thought it was dying. Anne, in fact, was devoted to the cause

of the Prince of Orange; and Barillon says that she avoided every

opportunity of convincing herself of what she did not wish to believe.

This singular deed of verification of the child's identity was the

last act of the ministry of Sunderland. His treason had not escaped

observation. A letter of his wife's had been intercepted and shown to

him by the king, in which she was found in close correspondence with

Sidney. He strictly denied all knowledge of it, and did not hesitate to

advert to his wife's _liaison_ with Sidney as sufficiently exculpatory

of himself. For a time he lulled James's suspicions, but they again

revived; and, on the very evening of this extraordinary council, James

sent Middleton and demanded the Seals. To the last Sunderland acted

the part of injured innocence; but was not long in getting away to

the Hague, not, however, in time to join William before his second

embarkation. His office of Secretary to the Southern Department was

given to Middleton, and of Secretary to the Northern Department to

Lord Preston, both Protestants. Petre was dismissed from the Council,

but retained his post as Clerk of the Closet at Whitehall. But all

this did not alter the tone of public feeling. The very day before the

assembling of the extraordinary council, the London mob demolished a

new Catholic chapel; and on the 14th of October, the king's birthday,

there had been no sign of rejoicing, not even the firing of the Tower

guns; but the people reminded one another that it was the anniversary

of the landing of William the Conqueror. Their thoughts were running on

the landing of another William.

On the 1st of November the Prince of Orange again set sail, and this

time with a favourable though strong gale from the east. Besides

the English noblemen and gentlemen whom we have mentioned, including

also Fletcher of Saltoun, William had with him Marshal Schomberg, an

able and experienced general, who was appointed second in command;

Bentinck, Overkirk, and Counts Solmes and Sturm. Herbert was the chief

admiral, much to the chagrin of the Dutch admirals, but very wisely

so determined by William, who well knew the hereditary jealousy of

the Dutch fleet, and the remembered boast and besom of Van Tromp

in England. He resolved that, if they came to conflict with Lord

Dartmouth, it should be English commander against English, or his cause

might receive great prejudice. For twelve hours William drove before

the breeze towards the coasts of Yorkshire, as if intending to land

there; then, suddenly tacking, he stood down the Channel before the

gale. Dartmouth attempted to issue from the mouth of the Thames to

intercept him, but the violent wind which favoured William perfectly

disabled him. His vessels as they came out to sea were driven back

with much damage, compelled to strike yards and top-masts, and to lie

abreast the Longsand; whilst William, leading the way in the _Brill_,

sailed rapidly past with his whole fleet and a crowd of other vessels

that had gathered in his rear, to the amount of nearly seven hundred.

It was twenty-four hours before Dartmouth could give chase, and on the

5th of November William reached Torbay, his real destination.

William took up his quarters in a cottage whilst his troops were

landing, and from its thatched roof waved the flag of Holland, bearing

the significant motto, "I will maintain the Protestant Religion and

the Liberties of England." Burnet was one of the first to congratulate

William on his landing on English soil; and, at the recommendation

of Carstares, the first thing on the complete disembarkation was

to collect the troops, and return public thanks to Heaven for the

successful passage of the armament. The next day William marched in

the direction of Exeter; but the rains continued, and the roads were

foul, so that he made little progress. It was not till the 9th that

he appeared before the city. The people received him with enthusiasm,

but the magistracy shrank back in terror, and Bishop Lamplough and

the dean had fled to warn the king of the invasion. The city was in

utter confusion, and at first shut its gates; but as quickly agreed

to open them, and William was accommodated in the vacated deanery.

But the people of the West had suffered too much from the support

of Monmouth not to have learnt caution. A service was ordered in the

cathedral to return thanks for the safe arrival of the prince; but

the canons absented themselves, and only some of the prebendaries and

choristers attended, and, as soon as Burnet began to read the prince's

declaration, these hurried out as fast as they could. On Sunday, which

was the 11th, Burnet was the only clergyman that could be got to preach

before the prince, and the Dissenters refused the fanatic Ferguson

admittance to their chapel. This extraordinary person, however, who

appears to have been one-third enthusiast and two-thirds knave, called

for a hammer, and exclaiming, "I will take the kingdom of heaven by

storm!" broke open the door, marched to the pulpit with his drawn sword

in his hand, and delivered one of those wild and ill-judged philippics

against the king which did so much mischief in the attempt of Monmouth.

Altogether, so far the cause of William appeared as little promising

as that of Monmouth had done. Notwithstanding the many earnest

entreaties from men of high rank and of various classes--nobles,

bishops, officers of the army and navy,--a week had elapsed, and no

single person of influence had joined him. The people only, as in

Monmouth's case, had crowded about him with shouts of welcome. William

was extremely disappointed and chagrined; he declared that he was

deluded and betrayed, and he vowed that he would re-embark, and leave

those who had called for him to work out their own deliverance, or

receive their due punishment. But on Monday, the 12th, his spirits

were a little cheered by a gentleman of Crediton, named Burrington,

attended by a few followers, joining his standard. This was immediately

followed, however, by the news that Lord Lovelace, with about seventy

of his tenants and neighbours, had been intercepted by the militia at

Cirencester, taken prisoners, and sent to Gloucester Castle. The slow

movement of the disaffected appears to have originated in William's

not having landed in Yorkshire, as was expected, but in the west,

where he was not expected. In the North Lords Delamere and Brandon in

Cheshire, Danby and Lumley in Yorkshire, Devonshire and Chesterfield in

Derbyshire, in Lancashire the Earl of Manchester, in Nottinghamshire

and Lincolnshire Rutland and Stamford, and others were all waiting to

receive him. The very army which had been encamped on Hounslow Heath

was the seat of a secret conspiracy of officers, with Churchill himself

at their head, who kept up constant communication with the club at the

"Rose" tavern in Covent Garden, of which Lord Colchester was president.

But all this concert was paralysed for a time by William's appearance

in so distant a quarter.

But the elements of revolt, which had suffered a momentary shock,

now began to move visibly. The very day that Lord Lovelace was

captured, Lord Colchester marched into Exeter, attended by about

seventy horse, and accompanied by the hero of "Lillibullero," Thomas

Wharton. They were quickly followed by Russell, the son of the Duke of

Bedford, one of the earliest promoters of the revolution, and still

more significantly by the Earl of Abingdon, a staunch Tory, who had

supported James till he saw that nothing but the reign of Popery would

satisfy him. A still more striking defection from the king immediately

followed. Lord Cornbury, the eldest son of the Earl of Clarendon,

pretended to have received orders to march with three regiments of

cavalry stationed at Salisbury Moor, to the enemy in the west. He was a

young man entirely under the influence of Lord Churchill, having been

brought up in the household of his cousin, the Princess Anne, where

Churchill and his wife directed everything; and there can be no doubt

that this movement was the work of Churchill. As the cavalry proceeded

from place to place by a circuitous route to Axminster, the officers

became suspicious, and demanded to see the orders. Cornbury replied

that his orders were to beat up the quarters of the army in the night

near Honiton. The loyal officers, who had received hints that all was

not right, demanded to see the written orders; but Cornbury, who had

none to produce, stole away in the dark with a few followers who were

in the secret, and got to the Dutch camp. His regiment, and that of

the Duke of Berwick, James's own (natural) son, with the exception of

about thirty troops, returned to Salisbury; but the third regiment,

the Duke of St. Albans', followed the colonel, Langton, to Honiton,

where General Talmash received them; and most of the officers and a

hundred and fifty privates declared for the prince, the rest being made

prisoners, but soon afterwards discharged.

The news of this defection of one so near to the king's family

created the greatest consternation in the palace. In his terror James

summoned a military council. He was anxious to receive the assurances

of fidelity from his other officers--as if any assurances, under the

circumstances, anything but leading them against the enemy, could test

the loyalty of these men. He told them that he wished to be satisfied

that there were no more Cornburys amongst them; and that if any had

scruples about fighting for him, he was ready to receive back their

commissions. Of course they protested the most ardent devotion to his

cause, though there was not a man of them that was not already pledged

to desert him. Churchill, recently made a lieutenant-general, and the

Duke of Grafton, the king's nephew, were especially fervid in their

expressions of loyalty; so, too, were Trelawney, smarting secretly over

the persecution of his brother, the Bishop of Bristol, and the savage

Kirke, who, when James had importuned him to turn Papist, had replied

that he "was sorry, but he had already engaged to the Grand Turk that

if he changed his religion he would become a Mussulman." Reassured

by these hollow professions, James gave orders for joining the camp

at Salisbury; but the next morning, before he could set out, he was

waited on by a numerous deputation of lords spiritual and temporal,

with Sancroft at their head, praying that a free Parliament might be

immediately called, and communication opened with the Prince of Orange.

James received the deputation ungraciously. In all his hurried

concessions he had still shown his stubborn spirit by refusing to

give up the Dispensing power; and now, though he declared that what

they asked he passionately desired, he added that he could not call a

Parliament till the Prince of Orange quitted the kingdom. "How," he

asked, "can you have a free Parliament whilst a foreign prince, at the

head of a foreign force, has the power to return a hundred members?" He

then fell foul of the bishops, reminding them that the other day they

refused to avow under their hands their disapproval of the invasion,

on the plea that their vocation was not in politics; and yet here

they were at the very head of a political movement. He charged them

with fomenting the rebellion, and retired, declaring to his courtiers

that he would not concede an atom. He then appointed a council of

five lords--of whom two were Papists, and the third Jeffreys--to keep

order during his absence, sent off the Prince of Wales to Portsmouth

to the care of the Duke of Berwick, the commander, and set out for

Salisbury. He reached his camp on the 19th of November, and ordered a

review the next day at Warminster, of Kirke's division. Churchill and

Kirke were particularly anxious that he should proceed to this review,

and Kirke and Trelawney hastened on to their forces, on pretence of

making the necessary preparations. On the other hand, Count de Roye as

earnestly dissuaded James from going to Warminster. He told him that

the enemy's advanced foot was at Wincanton, and that the position at

Warminster, or even that where they were at Salisbury, was untenable.

James, however, was resolved to go; but the next morning, the 20th,

he was prevented by a violent bleeding at the nose, which continued

unchecked for three days.

[Illustration: WILLIAM OF ORANGE ENTERING EXETER. (_See p._ 339.)]

Scarcely had this impediment occurred when news came that the king's

forces had been attacked at Wincanton, and worsted by some of the

division of General Mackay. James was now assured that, had he gone to

Warminster, he would have been seized by traitors near his person, and

carried off to the enemy's quarters. He was advised to arrest Churchill

and Grafton; but, with his usual imprudence, he refused, and summoned

them along with the other officers to a military council, to decide

whether they should advance or retreat. Feversham, Roye, and Dumbarton

argued for a retreat; Churchill persisted in his recommendation of an

advance to the post at Warminster. The council lasted till midnight,

when Churchill and Grafton, seeing that their advice was not followed,

felt the time was come to throw off the mask, and therefore rode

directly away to the prince's lines. The next morning the discovery

of this desertion filled the camp with consternation, and this was

at its height when it was known that Churchill's brother, a colonel,

Trelawney, Barclay, and about twenty privates had ridden after the

fugitives. It was said that Kirke was gone too, but it was not the

fact; and he was now arrested for having disobeyed orders sent to him

from Salisbury; but he professed such indignation at the desertion of

Churchill and the others, that the shallow-minded king set him again at

liberty. The deserters were received by William with a most gracious

welcome, though Schomberg remarked of Churchill that he was the first

lieutenant-general that he had ever heard of running away from his

colours.

In James's camp all was confusion, suspicion, and dismay. There was

not a man who was sure of his fellow, and the retreat which commenced

more resembled a flight. Numbers who would have fought had they been

led at once to battle, now lost heart, and stole away on all sides. The

news that found its way every hour into the demoralised camp was enough

to ruin any army. From every quarter came tidings of insurrection.

The Earl of Bath, the Governor of Plymouth, had surrendered the place

solemnly to William; Sir Edward Seymour, Sir William Portman, Sir

Francis Warre--men of immense influence in Devon, Somerset, and

Dorset--were already with William at Exeter; a paper had been drawn

up and signed by the leading persons there to stand by the prince,

and, whether he succeeded or whether he fell, never to cease till they

had obtained all the objects in his declaration; Delamere had risen

in Chester, and had reached Manchester on his way south; Danby had

surprised the garrison at York; the town had warmly welcomed him, and a

great number of peers, baronets, and gentlemen were in arms with him.

Devonshire had called together the authorities and people of Derby, and

published his reason for appearing in arms, calling on them to assist

all true men in obtaining a settlement of the public rights in a free

Parliament. At Nottingham he was met by the Earls of Rutland, Stamford,

Manchester, Chesterfield, and the Lords Cholmondeley and Grey de Ruthyn.

These were tidings of a reaction as determined as James's headstrong

career had been; but the worst had not yet overtaken him. On the

evening of November 24th he had retreated towards London as far as

Andover. Prince George of Denmark, the husband of the Princess Anne,

and the Duke of Ormond, supped with him. Prince George was a remarkably

stupid personage, whose constant reply to any news was, "Est-il

possible?" When the intelligence of one desertion after another came he

had exclaimed, "Est-il possible?" But the moment supper was over and

the king gone to bed, Prince George and Ormond rode off to the enemy

too. When James the next morning was informed of this mortifying news,

he coolly replied, "What! Is 'Est-il possible' gone too? Were he not my

son-in-law, a single trooper would have been a greater loss." With the

prince and Ormond had also fled Lord Drumlanrig, the eldest son of the

Duke of Queensberry, Mr. Boyle, Sir George Hewit, and other persons of

distinction. The blow was severe; and though James at the first moment,

being stunned, as it were, seemed to bear it with indifference, he

pursued his way to London in a state of intense exasperation. There the

first news that met him was the flight of his own daughter Anne. Anne

was bound up, soul and body, with the Churchills, and it had no doubt

been for some time settled amongst them that they should all get away

to the prince her brother-in-law.

It was towards evening of the same day that Anne fled that James

arrived at Whitehall, agitated by the awful desertions of his highest

officers and his nearest relatives. This announcement put the climax

to his torture. He exclaimed, "God help me! My very children have

forsaken me." Severe as the punishment of his desperate treason against

his people deserved to be, this certainly was a cruel fate. For some

days a lady near his person records that she thought she saw in him

occasional aberrations of intellect. That night he sat late in council,

and it was urged on him to call together such peers and prelates as

were in London to consult on the necessary steps in this crisis. The

next day came together nearly fifty peers and bishops, and James asked

their advice as to calling a Parliament. On this head there appeared

no difference of opinion; but Halifax, Nottingham, and others, urged

with equal earnestness that all Catholics should be dismissed from

office, and a general amnesty published for all in arms against him.

James assented to the calling a Parliament, but his eyes were still

not opened to the folly of his past conduct, and he would give no

assurance of dismissing the Papists, and broke out into vehement

language at the proposal to pardon his enemies. "My lords," he said,

"you are wonderfully anxious for the safety of my enemies, but none

of you troubles himself about my safety." And he vowed that he would

yet take vengeance on those who had deserted him, and, above all, on

Churchill. Clarendon, who was on the eve of running off to William,

took the opportunity to utter the bitter feelings which his dismissal

from the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland to make way for Tyrconnel had no

doubt long left in his mind. He upbraided James with his dogged and

incurable Popery, with sacrificing everybody and everything for it;

declaring that, even at that moment, James was raising a regiment from

which Protestants were rigorously excluded. He taunted him with running

away from the enemy, and asked him who was likely to fight for him when

he himself was the first to flee.

After this severe treatment by his closest connections, James

appeared to comply with the advice of the lords. He sent for Halifax,

Nottingham, and Godolphin, and informed them that he had appointed

them Commissioners to treat with William. He dismissed Sir Edward

Hales from the Tower, and placed Bevil Skelton, a Protestant, there.

But the nature or the intention of this most obtuse of bigots was by

no means changed; he was internally as determined as ever to reverse

every concession on the first possible occasion. Barillon tells us that

he assured him that all this was a mere feint; that he only sent the

Commissioners to William in order to gain time for sending his wife and

child into France; that as to calling a Parliament, that would only

be to put himself into their power, and compel him to submit to their

conditions; that he had no faith in his troops, except the Irish; none

of the rest would fight for him; and, therefore, as soon as the queen

and young prince were safe, he should get away to Ireland, Scotland,

or France, and await the turn of events. Such was the utterly hopeless

character of the Stuart race!

To clear the way for the escape of the royal infant, Lord Dover was

put in command at Portsmouth, and James sent orders to Lord Dartmouth

to see that the child was safely conveyed to the French coast. In

anticipation of the accomplishment of this object, he made every

preparation for his own flight. He sent to Jeffreys to bring the Great

Seal, and take up his quarters with it in the palace, lest by any

means it should fall into the hands of the invader, and thus give an

air of authority to his proceedings. But his escape was delayed by

unpleasant news from Lord Dartmouth. The announcement of the calling

of a Parliament, and of attempted agreement with the Prince of Orange,

had spread exultation through the navy, and the officers had despatched

an address of fervent thanks to James, when the arrival of the infant

prince awoke a general suspicion that all was still hollow, and that

James meant nothing but escape. The officers were in great agitation,

and plainly pointed out to Dartmouth his heavy responsibility if he

allowed the prince to quit the kingdom. Dartmouth, therefore, wrote

James, declaring that he would risk his life for the support of the

Crown, but that he dared not undertake to facilitate the escape of the

Prince of Wales. This was confounding news, and James took instant

measures for the return of his son to London, and for his escape by

another means to France.

Meanwhile William was gradually advancing towards the capital, and, on

the 6th of December, the king's Commissioners met him at Hungerford,

where they found the Earls of Clarendon and Oxford already swelling

the Court of the invader. They were received with much respect, and

submitted their master's proposal that all matters in dispute should be

referred to the Parliament for which the writs were ordered, and that,

in the meantime, the Dutch army should not advance nearer than forty

miles from London. The Whigs in William's Court were decidedly averse

from reconciliation with James, whose implacable nature they knew; but

William insisted on acceding to the terms, on condition that the royal

forces should remove the same distance from the capital, and that the

Tower of London and Tilbury Fort should be put into the keeping of

the City authorities. If it were necessary for the king and prince to

proceed to Westminster during the negotiations, they should go attended

only by a small guard. Nothing could be fairer; but William knew well

the character of his father-in-law, and felt assured that he would

by some means shuffle out of the agreement, and throw the odium of

failure on himself; and he was not deceived. Never had James so fair an

opportunity of recovering his position and securing his throne, under

constitutional restraints, for his life; but he was totally incapable

of such wisdom and honesty.

On the very day that the royal Commissioners reached William's camp,

James received the Prince of Wales back from Portsmouth, and prepared

to send him off to France by another route. On the night of the 10th of

December he sent the queen across the Thames in darkness and tempest,

disguised as an Italian lady, and attended by two Italian women, one of

whom was the child's nurse, and the other carried the boy in her arms.

They were guarded by two French refugees of distinction--Antonine,

Count of Lauzun, and his friend Saint Victor. They arrived safely at

Gravesend, where a yacht awaited them, on board of which were Lord and

Lady Powis. Saint Victor returned to inform James that they had got

clear off, and in a few hours they were safely in Calais.

Scarcely did Saint Victor bring the cheering news of the auspicious

sailing of the yacht, when the Commissioners arrived with the

conditions that had been agreed on by William. Here was the guarantee

for a speedy adjustment of all his difficulties; but the false and

distorted-minded James only saw in the circumstance a wretched means

of further deceit and contempt of his people and of all honourable

negotiation. He pretended to be highly satisfied, summoned for the

morrow a meeting of all the peers in town, and of the Lord Mayor

and aldermen, and directed that they should deliberate freely and

decide firmly for the good of the country. This done, he retired to

rest, ordered Jeffreys to be with him early in the morning, said to

Lord Mulgrave, as he bade him good night, that the news from William

was most satisfactory, and, before morning, had secretly decamped,

leaving his kingdom to take care of itself rather than condescend to a

pacification with his son-in-law and his subjects, which should compel

him to rule as a constitutional king.

But James was not satisfied with this contemptible conduct; he indulged

himself before going with creating all the confusion that he could.

Had the writs, which were preparing, been left for issue on the 15th

of January, 1689, a new Parliament would be in existence, ready to

settle the necessary measures for future Government; he therefore

collected the writs and threw them into the fire with his own hands,

and annulled a number which were already gone out, by an instrument for

the purpose. He also left a letter for Lord Feversham, announcing his

departure from the kingdom, and desiring him no longer to expose the

lives of himself and his soldiers "by resistance to a foreign army and

a poisoned nation;" then, taking the Great Seal in his hand, he bade

the Earl of Northumberland, who was the Lord of the Bedchamber on duty,

and lay on a pallet bed in the king's room, not to unlock the door

till the usual hour in the morning, and then, disguised as a country

gentleman, disappeared down the back stairs. He was waited for by Sir

Edward Hales, whom he afterwards created Earl of Tenterden, and they

proceeded in a hackney-coach to Millbank, where they crossed the river

in a boat to Vauxhall. When in mid-stream, he flung the Great Seal into

the water, trusting that it would never be seen any more; but it was

afterwards dragged up by a fishing-net. James, attended by Hales and

Sheldon, one of the royal equerries, drove at a rapid pace for Elmley

Ferry, near the Isle of Sheppey, having relays of horse ready engaged.

They reached that place at ten in the morning, and got on board the

Custom House hoy which was waiting for them, and dropped down the river.

[Illustration: JAMES HEARING OF THE LANDING OF WILLIAM OF ORANGE.

(_After the Painting by E. M. Ward, R.A._)]

In the morning, when the Duke of Northumberland opened the king's

chamber door, and it was discovered that James had fled, the

consternation in the palace may be imagined. The courtiers and the

numbers of persons who were waiting to fulfil their morning duties,

and the lords who had been summoned to council, spread the exciting

tidings, and the capital became a scene of the wildest and most

alarming confusion. Feversham obeyed the orders of the king left in

his letter, without pausing to ask any advice, or to calculate what

might be the consequences. These were as serious as might have been

expected. There was no Government, no constituted authority to appeal

to. Lord Rochester had continued loyal to the last; but the base

desertion of James and the imminent danger at once decided him. He

bade the Duke of Northumberland muster the Guards, and declare for

William. The officers of the other regiments in London followed the

advice, and endeavoured to keep together their men, declaring for the

Prince of Orange. The lords who had been summoned to Council hastened

into the City to concert measures with the Lord Mayor and aldermen for

the public safety. A meeting was hastily called in Guildhall, where

the peers, twenty-five in number, and five bishops, with Sancroft and

the new Archbishop of York at their head, formed themselves into a

provisional council to exercise the functions of Government till the

Prince of Orange should arrive, for whom they sent a pressing message,

praying him to hasten and unite with them for the preservation of

the Constitution and the security of the Church. The two Secretaries

of State were sent for, but Preston alone came; Middleton denied the

authority of the self-created Council. The Lieutenant of the Tower,

Bevil Skelton, was ordered to give up the keys to Lord Lucas, and an

order was sent to Lord Dartmouth, desiring him to dismiss all Popish

officers from the fleet, and attempt nothing against the Dutch fleet.

But no measures could prevent the outbreak of the mob in London. The

feeling against the Catholics displayed itself on all sides. Under

pretence of searching for Papists, the hordes of blackguards from

every low purlieu of London swarmed forth and broke into houses, and

plundered them at their pleasure. The vile Jeffreys was with difficulty

saved from the fury of the mob.

James, his heartless master, was also seized. The Custom House hoy in

which he embarked was found wanting in ballast, and the captain was

obliged to run her ashore near Sheerness. About eleven at night on the

12th of December, before the hoy could be floated again by the tide,

she was boarded by a number of fishermen who were on the look-out for

fugitives, and the appearance of the king immediately attracted their

notice. "That is Father Petre," cried one fellow; "I know him by his

hatchet face." James was immediately seized and searched; but, though

he had his coronation ring in his pocket, besides other jewels, they

missed them, and did not recognise him. They carried him ashore at

Feversham, where, at the inn, amid the insults of this rabble, he

declared himself their king. The Earl of Winchelsea, hearing of the

king's detention, hastened to his assistance, had him removed to the

house of the Mayor, and sent word of his capture to London.

When the countryman who carried the messages from Lord Winchelsea

arrived at Whitehall, the news of the king's detention occasioned the

greatest embarrassment. The lords had sent for William, and hoped

that they were well rid of the foolish king. Nothing could have been

easier than their course if James had got over to the Continent.

The throne would be declared vacant, and the Prince and Princess of

Orange invited to occupy it, on giving the necessary guarantees for

the maintenance of the Constitution. But now the whole question was

involved in difficulties. If James persisted in his right to the

throne, in what capacity was William to be received? Could any safe

measures be arranged with a man like James? Was he to be deposed,

and his son-in-law and daughter forcibly placed on his throne? The

dilemma was equally embarrassing to the lords and prelates, and to

the prince himself. When the messenger was introduced, and delivered

a letter from James, but without any address, Halifax moved that they

should instantly adjourn, and thus leave the letter unnoticed. Halifax

was deeply incensed at the trick which James had played off upon him

in sending him to negotiate with William merely that he might get

away, and was now resolved to adhere to the prince; but Lord Mulgrave

prevailed on the lords to retain their seats, and obtained from them

an order that Lord Feversham should take two hundred Life Guards, and

protect the king from insult. Feversham demanded the precise powers of

his order, and was told that he must defend the king from insult, but

by no means impede the freest exercise of his personal freedom. This

meant that they would be glad if he facilitated his escape. Halifax

immediately left London, and joined the Prince of Orange, who was now

at Henley-on-Thames. Sancroft and the clergy, as soon as they were

aware that the king had not left the country, retired from any further

participation in the Council. William and his adherents were extremely

chagrined at this untoward turn of affairs. When the messenger arrived

at Henley he was referred to Burnet, who said, "Why did you not let the

king go?"

But when Feversham arrived at the town whose name he bore, the king

was no longer disposed to escape. His friends who had gathered about

him, Middleton and Lord Winchelsea especially, had endeavoured to show

him that his strength lay in remaining. Had he vacated the throne by

quitting the kingdom, it had been lost for ever; but now he was king,

and might challenge his right; and the prince could not dispossess

him without incurring the character of a usurper, and throwing a

heavy odium of unnatural severity on himself and his wife. James had

sufficient mind left to perceive the strength thus pointed out to him.

He resolved to return to his capital, and from Rochester despatched

Feversham with a letter to William, whom he found advanced to Windsor,

proposing a conference in London, where St. James's should be prepared

for the prince. By this time William and his Council had determined on

the plan to be pursued in the great difficulty. He had calculated on

James's being gone, and had issued orders to the king's army and to the

lords at Whitehall in the style of a sovereign. His leading adherents

had settled amongst themselves the different offices that they were to

occupy as the reward of their adhesion. It was resolved, therefore,

if possible, to frighten James into a second flight. No sooner had

Feversham delivered his despatch than he was arrested, and thrown into

the Round Tower on the charge of having disbanded the army without

proper orders, to the danger of the capital, and of having entered the

prince's camp without a passport. Zulestein was despatched to inform

James that William declined the proposed conference, and recommended

him to remain at Rochester.

James, however, was now bent on returning to London. He had not waited

for the prince's answer, but on Sunday, the 16th of December, he

entered his capital in a sort of triumphal procession. He was preceded

by a number of gentlemen, bareheaded. Immense crowds assembled as if

to welcome him back again. They cheered him as he rode along. The

bells were rung, and bonfires were lit in the streets. Elated by these

signs, as he imagined them, of returning popularity, he no sooner

reached Whitehall than he called around him the Jesuits who had hidden

themselves, stationed Irish soldiers as guards around his palace, had

grace said at his table by a Jesuit priest, and expressed his high

indignation at the lords and prelates who had presumed to usurp his

functions in his absence--who had, in fact, saved the capital from

destruction when he had abandoned it. His folly, however, received an

abrupt check. Zulestein was announced, and delivered the stern message

of William. James was confounded, but again repeated his invitation

for his nephew to come to town, that they might settle all differences

in a personal conference. Zulestein coldly assured him that William

would not enter London whilst it contained troops not under his orders.

"Then," said James, "let him bring his own guards, and I will dismiss

mine, for I am as well without any as such that I dare not trust."

Zulestein, however, retired without further discussion, and the moment

he was gone, James was informed of the arrest of Feversham.

Alarmed at these proofs of the stern spirit of William, James sent in

haste to Stamps and Lewis, the leading members of the City Council--the

Lord Mayor had never recovered his terror of Jeffreys' presence,--to

offer to place himself under their protection till all necessary

guarantees for the public liberties had been given and accepted. But

the Common Council had not had time to forget his seizure of their

charter, and they prudently declined to enter into an engagement which,

they said, they might not be able to fulfil. Whilst James was thus

learning that though the City acclamations might be proofs of regret

for his misfortunes, they were by no means proofs of a desire for his

continuing to reign, William, on the same day, the 17th, bade all

his leading adherents hold a solemn council, to consider what steps

should be taken in this crisis. It was understood that he would never

consent to enter London whilst James was there, and it was resolved

that he should be removed to Ham House, near Richmond, which the

brutal Lauderdale had built out of the bribes of Louis XIV. and the

money wrung from the ravaged people of Scotland. Halifax, Shrewsbury,

and Delamere were despatched to James with this intimation, though

Clarendon had done all in his power to have James seized and confined

in some foreign fortress till Tyrconnel surrendered Ireland to the

prince's party.

Simultaneously with the three lords, William ordered his forces to

advance towards London. In the evening of the 17th James heard that the

Dutch soldiers had occupied Chelsea and Kennington. By ten o'clock at

night Solmes, at the head of three battalions of infantry, was already

making across St. James's Park, and sent word that his orders were to

occupy Whitehall, and he advised the Earl of Craven, who commanded

the Coldstream Guards, to retire. Craven--though now in his eightieth

year, was still possessed of the courage and chivalry which he had

displayed in the wars of Germany, and which had won him the heart of

Elizabeth of Bohemia, who was said to be married to him--declared

that, so long as he retained life, no foreign prince should make a

King of England a prisoner in his own palace. James, however, ordered

him to retire. The Coldstream Guards withdrew, and the Dutch guards

surrounded the palace. James, as if there were no danger to his person,

went composedly to bed, but only to be roused out of his first sleep

to receive the deputation from the prince. On reading the letter

proposing his removal to Ham, which Halifax informed him must be done

before ten o'clock in the morning, James seems to have taken a final

resolve to get away. He protested against going to Ham, as a low, damp

place in winter, but offered to retire to Rochester. This was a pretty

clear indication of his intention to flee--the very object desired. A

messenger was despatched in all speed to the prince, who returned with

his full approbation before daybreak.

The morning of the 18th was miserably wet and stormy, but a barge

was brought to Whitehall Stairs, and the wretched monarch went on

board, attended by the Lords Arran, Dumbarton, Dundee, Lichfield,

and Aylesbury. The spectators could not behold this melancholy

abdication--for such it was--of the last potentate of a most unwise

line, who had lost a great empire by his incurable infatuation,

without tears. Even Shrewsbury and Delamere showed much emotion,

and endeavoured to soothe the fallen king; but Halifax, incurably

wounded in his diplomatic pride by the hollow mission to the prince

at Hungerford, stood coldly apart. Boats containing a hundred Dutch

soldiers surrounded his barge as it dropped down the river. James

landed and slept at Gravesend, and then proceeded to Rochester, where

he remained four days.

Though his advisers entreated him not to fly, James had now sunk the

last manly feeling of a monarch who would dare much and sacrifice more

to retain a noble empire for his family. A dastardly fear that if he

remained he would be put to death like his father took possession

of him. He made a last offer to the bishops, through the Bishop of

Winchester, as he had done to the City of London, to put himself into

their hands for safety, but they also declined the responsibility, and

he then gave all over as lost. On the evening of the 22nd of December

he sat down before supper, and wrote a declaration of his motives for

quitting the kingdom. About midnight he stole quietly away with the

Duke of Berwick, his natural son, and, after much difficulty, through

storm and darkness, reached a fishing smack hired for the purpose,

which, on Christmas Day, landed him at Ambleteuse, on the coast of

France. Thence he hastened to the castle of St. Germains, which Louis

had appointed for his residence, and where, on the 28th, he found his

wife and child awaiting him. Louis also was there to receive him, had

settled on him a revenue of forty-five thousand pounds sterling yearly,

besides giving him ten thousand pounds for immediate wants. The conduct

of Louis was truly princely, not only in thus conferring on the fallen

monarch a noble and delightful residence, with an ample income, but in

making it felt by his courtiers and all France, that he expected the

exiled family to be treated with the respect due to the sovereigns of

England.

The flight of James had removed the great difficulty of William--that

of having recourse to some measure of harshness towards him, as

imprisonment, or forcible deposition and banishment, which would have

greatly lowered his popularity. The adherents of James felt all this,

and were confounded at the advantage which the impolitic monarch had

given to his enemies. The joy of William's partisans was great and

unconcealed. In France the success of William was beheld with intense

mortification, for it was the death-blow to the ascendency of Louis

in Europe, which had been the great object of all his wars, and the

expensive policy of his whole life. In Holland the elevation of their

Stadtholder to the head of the English realm was beheld as the greatest

triumph of their nation; and Dykvelt and Nicholas Witsen were deputed

to wait on him in London and congratulate him on his brilliant success.

But, notwithstanding all these favourable circumstances, there were

many knotty questions to be settled before William could be recognised

as sovereign. The country was divided into various parties, one of

which, including the Tories and the Church, contended that no power

or law could affect the divine right of kings; and that although a

king by his infamy, imbecility, or open violation of the laws might be

restrained from exercising the regal functions personally, those rights

remained untouched, and must be invested for the time in a regent

chosen by the united Parliament of the nation. Others contended that

James's unconstitutional conduct and subsequent flight amounted to an

abdication, and that the royal rights had passed on to the next heir;

and the only question was, which was the true heir--the daughter of

James, the wife of William, or the child called the Prince of Wales?

The more determined Whigs contended that the arbitrary conduct of the

House of Stuart, and especially of James, who attempted to destroy both

the Constitution and the Church, had abrogated the original compact

between prince and people, and returned the right of electing a new

monarch into the hands of the people; and the only question was, who

should that choice be? There were not wanting some who advised William

boldly to assume the crown by right of conquest; but he was much too

wise to adopt this counsel, having already pledged himself to the

contrary in his Declaration, and also knowing how repugnant such an

assumption would be to the proud spirit of the nation.

To settle these points he called together, on the 23rd of December,

the peers, all the members of any Parliament summoned in the reign

of Charles II. who happened to be in town, and the Lord Mayor and

aldermen, with fifty other citizens of London, at St. James's,

to advise him as to the best mode of fulfilling the terms of his

Declaration. The two Houses, thus singularly constituted, proceeded to

deliberate on the great question in their own separate apartments. The

Lords chose Halifax as their Speaker; the Commons, Henry Powle. The

Lords came to the conclusion that a Convention was the only authority

which could determine the necessary measures; that in the absence

of Charles II. a Convention had called him back to the throne, and

therefore a Convention in the absence of James might exercise the same

legitimate function. When the Lords presented an address to this effect

on the 25th, William received it, but said it would be necessary to

receive the conclusion of the Commons before any act could take place.

On the 27th the Commons came to the same decision, and William was

requested to exercise the powers of the executive till the Convention

should assemble.

In issuing orders for the election of the members of the Convention,

William displayed a most politic attention to the spirit of the

Constitution. He gave direction that no compulsion or acts of undue

persuasion should be exercised for the return of candidates; no

soldiers should be allowed to be present in the boroughs where the

elections were proceeding; for, unlike James, William knew that he had

the sense of the majority of the people with him. The same measure was

adopted with regard to Scotland. There, no sooner had William arrived

in England, than the people rose against James's Popish ministers,

who were glad to flee or conceal themselves. Perth, the miserable

renegade and tyrant, endeavoured to escape by sea; he was overtaken,

brought ignominiously back, and flung into the prison of Kirkcaldy. The

Papists were everywhere disarmed, the Popish chapels were attacked

and ransacked. Holyrood House, which swarmed with Jesuits, and with

their printing presses, was not exempt from this summary visitation;

and bonfires were made of all sorts of Popish paraphernalia--crosses,

books, images, and pictures. William now called together such Scottish

noblemen and gentlemen as were in London, who adopted a resolution

requesting him to call a Convention of the Estates of Scotland, to meet

on the 14th of March, and in the meantime to take on himself the same

executive authority as in England. William was, therefore, the elected

ruler of the whole kingdom for the time. This power he proceeded to

exercise with a prudence and wisdom which were in striking contrast to

the antagonism of James. All parties and religions were protected as

subjects; Feversham was released, and the administration of justice

proceeded with a sense of firmness and personal security which gave

general confidence.

On the 22nd of January, 1689, the Convention met. The Lords again chose

Halifax as Speaker, the Commons, Powle. The Catholic lords had not

been summoned, and were not there. In the Lords, Bishop Sherlock and

a small knot of Tories were for recalling James, and attempting the

impossible thing of binding him to the Constitution; another party, of

which Sancroft was known to be the head, though he had not the courage

to go there and advocate it, were for a regency; whilst Danby contended

for proclaiming the Princess Mary in her own right; and the Whigs were

for nominating William as an elective prince. In the Commons, similar

parties appeared; but the great majority were for declaring the throne

vacant, and, on the 28th, they passed a resolution to that effect, and

the next day another, that no Popish king could possess the throne.

These carried up to the Lords were, after a debate of two days, also

adopted, but only by small majorities.

James now sent a letter to each House, declaring that he had not

abdicated, but had been compelled to withdraw by necessity; and he

offered to return and redress every grievance. Both Houses refused

to receive the letters; but in both the question as to who should be

the successor to the throne was violently debated. Lord Lovelace and

William Killigrew presented a petition to the Commons, demanding that

the crown should be given to the Prince and Princess of Orange jointly.

A member asked if the petition were signed, and Lovelace replied "No,"

but added that he would soon procure signatures enough. In fact,

there were noisy crowds about the House; and Lovelace was suspected of

having brought the mob from the City to intimidate the opponents. His

proceedings were strongly protested against, and William himself sent

for him and expressed his disapprobation of bringing any such influence

to force the deliberations of the Convention. The Earl of Devonshire

then gathered a meeting of the advocates of the prince and princess

at his house, where the question was discussed, and where Halifax

concluded for William and Danby for Mary. To obtain, if possible, some

idea of the leaning of William, who had preserved the most profound

silence during the debates, Danby put the question to a friend and

countryman of William's present what was the real wish of William.

He replied that it was not for him to say, but that, if he must give

an opinion, he did not believe that the prince would consent to be

gentleman-usher to his wife. This opened the eyes of Danby, who said,

"Then you all know enough, and I far too much." In fact, blind must all

have been who had studied the character of William not to have seen

from the first that he came there to be king, and that on equal terms

at least with his wife. The man who had for years brooded in jealous

secrecy over the idea that his wife would one day be raised over his

own head by her claim on the British crown, was not likely to accept

less than an equal throne with her.

Whilst this question was still agitating both Houses, Mary herself

settled it by a letter to Danby, in which she thanked him for his zeal

in her behalf; she declared that she was the wife of William, and had

long resolved, if the throne fell to her, to surrender her power, by

consent of Parliament, into his hands. This was decisive, and the

enemies of William had only the hope left that the Princess Anne might

protest against William, and insist on the precedence of her rights and

those of her issue. But Anne had long been perfectly accordant with

William and Mary, and declared herself entirely willing that William

should hold the throne for his life.

Mary and Anne having spoken out, William now sent for Halifax, Danby,

Shrewsbury, and the other leaders, and told them that, having come

for the good of the nation, he had thought it right to leave the

nation to settle its election of a ruler, and that he had still no

desire to interfere, except to clear their way so far as he himself

was concerned. He wished therefore to say that, if they decided to

appoint a regent, he declined to be that man. On the other hand, if

they preferred placing the princess, his wife, on the throne, he had

nothing to object; but if they offered to give him during his life the

nominal title of king, he could not accept it; that no man respected or

esteemed the princess more than he did, but that he could never consent

to be tied to the apronstrings of any woman, even the very highest and

best of her sex; that if they chose to offer him the crown for life,

he would freely accept it; if not, he would return cheerfully to his

own country, having done that which he had promised. He added that

he thought, in any case, the rights of Anne and her issue should be

carefully protected.

This left no doubt as to what must be the result. A second conference

was held on the 5th of February between the two Houses, where the

contest was again renewed as to whether the throne was actually vacant,

and they parted without coming to any agreement; but the Lords, on

returning to their own House, yielded, and sent down to the Commons

the new oaths, and the resolution that the prince and princess should

be declared king and queen. The Commons, who had already come to

this conclusion, would not, however, formally pass it till they had

taken measures for securing the rights of the subject before finally

conferring the crown. They therefore drew up what was called the

"Declaration of Rights," by which, while calling William and Mary to

the throne, they enumerated the constitutional principles on which

the crown should be held. This Declaration was passed on the 12th of

February, and about a year afterwards was formally enacted, under the

title of the "Bill of Rights," which contains the great charter of the

liberties of the English people.

The Declaration stated that, whereas the late king, James II., had

assumed and exercised a power of dispensing with and suspending laws

without consent of Parliament, and had committed and prosecuted

certain prelates because they had refused to concur in such arbitrary

powers; had erected an illegal tribunal to oppress the Church and the

subject; had levied taxes, and maintained a standing army in time of

peace without consent of Parliament; had quartered soldiers contrary

to law; had armed and employed Papists contrary to law; had violated

the freedom of election, and prosecuted persons in the King's Bench

for causes only cognisable by Parliament; and whereas, besides these,

the personal acts of the late king, partial and corrupt juries had

been returned, excessive fines had been imposed, illegal and cruel

punishments inflicted, the estates of persons granted away before

forfeiture or judgment; all these practices being utterly contrary to

the known laws, statutes, and freedom of the realm:

And whereas the said king, having abdicated the throne, and the Prince

of Orange, who under God had delivered the realm from this tyranny, had

invited the estates of the realm to meet and secure the religion and

freedom of the kingdom; therefore, the Lords spiritual and temporal,

and the Commons in Parliament assembled, did, for the vindication

and assertion of their ancient rights, declare--That to suspend the

execution of the laws, or to dispense with the execution of laws by

regal authority without consent of Parliament, that to erect boards of

commissioners, and levy money without Parliament, to keep a standing

army in time of peace without the will of Parliament, are all contrary

to law; that the election of members of Parliament ought to be free,

speech in Parliament free, and to be impeached nowhere else; no

excessive bail, or excessive fines, nor cruel or unjust punishments can

be awarded; that jurors ought to be duly impanelled, and, in trials for

high treason, be freeholders; that grants and promises of fines before

conviction are illegal and void; and that, for redress of grievances

and the amendment of laws, Parliaments ought to be frequently held. All

these things are claimed by the Declaration as the undoubted rights and

inheritance of Englishmen; and, believing that William and Mary, Prince

and Princess of Orange, will preserve from violation all these rights

and all other their rights, they resolve and declare them to be King

and Queen of England, France, and Ireland for their joint and separate

lives, the full exercise of the administration being in the prince;

and, in default of heirs of the Princess Mary, the succession to fall

to the Princess Anne of Denmark; and, in the default of such issue to

the Princess Anne of Denmark, to the posterity of William. On the same

12th of February on which this most important document was passed, the

Princess Mary landed at Greenwich.

The next morning, Wednesday, the 13th of February, 1689, the two Houses

waited on William and Mary, who received them in the Banqueting room

at Whitehall. The prince and princess entered, and stood under the

canopy of State side by side. Halifax was speaker on the occasion. He

requested their Highnesses to hear a resolution of both Houses, which

the Clerk of the House of Lords then read. It was the Declaration of

Rights. Halifax then, in the name of all the Estates of the realm,

requested them to accept the crown. William, for himself and his wife,

accepted the offer, declaring it the more welcome that it was given in

proof of the confidence of the whole nation. He then added for himself,

"And as I had no other intention in coming hither than to preserve

your religion, laws, and liberties, so you may be sure that I shall

endeavour to support them, and be willing to concur in anything that

shall be for the good of the kingdom, and to do all that is in my power

to advance the welfare and the glory of the nation."

This declaration was no sooner brought to an end than it was received

with shouts of satisfaction by the whole assembly, and, being heard by

the crowds without, was re-echoed by one universal "Hurrah!" The Lords

and Commons, as in courtesy bound, then retired; and, at the great

gate of the palace, the heralds and pursuivants, clad in their quaint

tabards, proclaimed William and Mary King and Queen of England, at the

same time praying for them, according to custom, "a long and happy

reign." The dense mass of people, filling the whole street to Charing

Cross, answered with a stunning shout; and thus, in three months and

eight days from the landing of William at Torbay, the Great Revolution

of 1688 was completed.