not so. you to cross me in this matter." The feeling, were desirous to place their Bishops solemnly averred that it was property in safety. They succeeded in But it would, they said, seem removing most of their furniture before strange that, on a question involving any report of their intentions got grave political and military considera- abroad. But at length the suspicions tions, the temporal peers should be of the rabble were excited. The last entirely passed over, and the prelates two carts were stopped in Holborn, and alone should be required to take a all that they contained was publicly prominent part. But this," said burned in the middle of the street. So James, "is my method. I am your great was the alarm among the CathoKing. It is for me to judge what is lics that all their places of worship best. I will go my own way; and I were closed, except those which becall on you to assist me." The Bishops longed to the royal family and to foreign assured him that they would assist him Ambassadors.* in their proper department, as Christian ministers with their prayers, and as peers of the realm with their advice in his Parliament. James, who wanted neither the prayers of heretics nor the advice of Parliaments, was bitterly disappointed. After a long altercation, "I have done," he said; "I will urge you no further. Since you will not help me, I must trust to myself and to my own arms." Disturb. ances in On the whole, however, things as yet looked not unfavourably for James. The invaders had been more than a week on English ground. Yet no man of note had joined them. No rebellion had broken out in the north or the east. No servant of the crown appeared to have betrayed his trust. The royal army was assembling fast at Salisbury, and, though inferior in discipline to that of William, was superior in numbers. The Prince was undoubtedly surprised and mortified by the Men of slackness of those who had in- rank begin to the Prince. The Bishops had hardly left the royal presence, when a courier arrived with the news that on the preceding day the Prince of Orange had landed in Devon-vited him to England. By the repair to shire. During the following common people of Devonshire, week London was violently indeed, he had been received with London. agitated. On Sunday, the every sign of good will: but no nobleeleventh of November, a rumour was man, no gentleman of high consideracirculated that knives, gridirons, and tion, had yet repaired to his quarters. caldrons, intended for the torturing of The explanation of this singular fact is heretics, were concealed in the monas-probably to be found in the circumtery which had been established under stance that he had landed in a part of the King's protection at Clerkenwell. the island where he had not been exGreat multitudes assembled round the building, and were about to demolish it, when a military force arrived. The crowd was dispersed, and several of the rioters were slain. An inquest sate on the bodies, and came to a decision which strongly indicated the temper of the public mind. The jury found that certain loyal and well disposed persons, who had gone to put down the meetings of traitors and public enemies at a mass house, had been wilfully murdered by the soldiers; and this strange verdict was signed by all the jurors. The ecclesiastics at Clerkenwell, naturally alarmed by these symptoms of popular * Life of James, ii. 210. Orig. Mem.; Sprat's Narrative; Van Citters, Nov. 1688. VOL. II. pected. His friends in the north had 16 26 and so recent, some hesitation was | tal, nor rising and falling with the flow natural. It was equally natural, how- and ebb of the sea, rolls under woods ever, that William, who, trusting to of beech round the gentle hills of Berkpromises from England, had put to shire. Beneath the stately saloon, hazard, not only his own fame and adorned by Italian pencils, was a subfortunes, but also the prosperity and terraneous vault, in which the bones of independence of his native land, should ancient monks had sometimes been feel deeply mortified. He was, indeed, found. In this dark chamber some so indignant, that he talked of falling zealous and daring opponents of the back to Torbay, reembarking his troops, government had held many midnight returning to Holland, and leaving those conferences during that anxious time who had betrayed him to the fate when England was impatiently expectwhich they deserved. At length, on ing the Protestant wind.* The season Monday, the twelfth of November, a for action had now arrived. Lovelace, gentleman named Burrington, who re-with seventy followers, well armed and sided in the neighbourhood of Crediton, joined the Prince's standard, and his example was followed by several of his neighbours. Lovelace. Men of higher consequence had already set out from different parts of the country for Exeter. The first of these was John Lord Lovelace, distinguished by his taste, by his magnificence, and by the audacious and intemperate vehemence of his Whiggism. He had been five or six times arrested for political offences. The last crime laid to his charge was, that he had contemptuously denied the validity of a warrant, signed by a Roman Catholic Justice of the Peace. He had been brought before the Privy Council and strictly examined, but to little purpose. He resolutely refused to criminate himself; and the evidence against him was insufficient. He was dismissed; but, before he retired, James exclaimed in great heat, "My Lord, this is not the first trick that you have played me." "Sir," answered Lovelace, with undaunted spirit, "I never played any trick to Your Majesty, or to any other person. Whoever has accused me to Your Majesty of playing tricks is a liar." Lovelace had subsequently been admitted into the confidence of those who planned the Revolution. His mansion, built by his ancestors out of the spoils of Spanish galleons from the Indies, rose on the ruins of a house of Our Lady in that beautiful valley through which the Thames, not yet defiled by the precincts of a great capi * Johnstone, Feb. 27. 1688; Van Citters of the same date. mounted, quitted his dwelling, and directed his course westward. He reached Gloucestershire without difficulty. But Beaufort, who governed that county, was exerting all his great authority and influence in support of the crown. The militia had been called out. A strong party had been posted at Cirencester. When Lovelace arrived there he was informed that he could not be suffered to pass. It was necessary for him either to relinquish his undertaking or to fight his way through. He resolved to force a passage; and his friends and tenants stood gallantly by him. A sharp conflict took place. The militia lost an officer and six or seven men; but at length the followers of Lovelace were overpowered: he was made a prisoner, and sent to Gloucester Castle.f Colchester. Others were more fortunate. On the day on which the skirmish took place at Cirencester, Richard Savage, Lord Colchester, son and heir of the Earl Rivers, and father, by a lawless amour, of that unhappy poet whose misdeeds and misfortunes form one of the darkest portions of literary history, came with between sixty and seventy horse to Exeter. With him arrived the bold and turbulent. Thomas Wharton. A few hours later came Edward Russell, son of the Earl of Bedford, and brother of the virtuous nobleman whose blood had been shed on the scaffold. Another arrival still more important was speedily announced. Colchester, Wharton, and Russell be *Lysons, Magna Britannia, Berkshire. † London Gazette, Nov 15. 1688; Luttrell's Diary. longed to that party which had been a few hours, the senior officer at Salisconstantly opposed to the Court. James bury, and all the troops assembled there Bertie, Earl of Abingdon, had, were subject to his authority. It seems Abingdon. on the contrary, been regarded extraordinary that, at such a crisis, the as a supporter of arbitrary government. army on which everything depended He had been true to James in the days should have been left, even for a moof the Exclusion Bill. He had, as Lord ment, under the command of a young Lieutenant of Oxfordshire, acted with Colonel, who had neither abilities nor vigour and severity against the adhe-experience. There can be little doubt rents of Monmouth, and had lighted that so strange an arrangement was the bonfires to celebrate the defeat of result of deep design, and as little doubt Argyle. But dread of Popery had to what head and to what heart the driven him into opposition and rebel-design is to be imputed. lion. He was the first peer of the realm who made his appearance at the quarters of the Prince of Orange.* But the King had less to fear from those who openly arrayed themselves against his authority, than from the dark conspiracy which had spread its ramifications through his army and his family. Of that conspiracy Churchill, unrivalled in sagacity and address, endowed by nature with a certain cool intrepidity which never failed him either in fighting or lying, high in military rank, and high in the favour of the Princess Anne, must be regarded as the soul. It was not yet time for him to strike the decisive blow. But even thus early he inflicted, by the instrumentality of a subordinate agent, a wound, serious if not deadly, on the royal cause. Desertion of Cornbury. Edward Viscount Cornbury, eldest son of the Earl of Clarendon, was a young man of slender abilities, loose principles, and violent temper. He had been early taught to consider his relationship to the Princess Anne as the groundwork of his fortunes, and had been exhorted to pay her assiduous court. It had never occurred to his father that the hereditary loyalty of the Hydes could run any risk of contamination in the household of the King's favourite daughter: but in that household the Churchills held absolute sway; and Cornbury became their tool. He commanded one of the regiments of dragoons which had been sent westward. Such dispositions had been made that, on the fourteenth of November, he was, during * Burnet, i. 790.; Life of William, 1703. Suddenly three of the regiments of cavalry which had assembled at Salisbury were ordered to march westward. Cornbury put himself at their head, and conducted them first to Blandford and thence to Dorchester. From Dorchester, after a halt of an hour or two, they set out for Axminster. Some of the officers began to be uneasy, and demanded an explanation of these strange movements. Cornbury replied that he had instructions to make a night attack on some troops which the Prince of Orange had posted at Honiton. But suspicion was awake. Searching questions were put, and were evasively answered. At last Cornbury was pressed to produce his orders. He perceived, not only that it would be impossible for him to carry over all the three regiments, as he had hoped, but that he was himself in a situation of considerable peril. He accordingly stole away with a few followers to the Dutch quarters. Most of his troops returned to Salisbury: but some who had been detached from the main body, and who had no suspicion of the designs of their commander, proceeded to Honiton. There they found themselves in the midst of a large force which was fully prepared to receive them. Resistance was impossible. Their leader pressed them to take service under William. A gratuity of a month's pay was offered to them, and was by most of them accepted.* The news of these events reached London on the fifteenth. James had been on the morning of that day in high good humour. Bishop Lamplugh had *Life of James, ii. 215. Orig. Mem.; Burnet, i. 790.; Clarendon's Diary, Nov. 15. 1688; London Gazette, Nov. 17. just presented himself at court on his | nobleman, the honour of a soldier, the arrival from Exeter, and had been most strongest professions, the purest Cavagraciously received. "My Lord," said lier blood, could no longer afford sethe King, "you are a genuine old Ca-curity. Every man might reasonably valier." The archbishopric of York, doubt whether every order which he which had now been vacant more than received from his superior was not two years and a half, was immediately meant to serve the purposes of the bestowed on Lamplugh as the reward enemy. That prompt obedience without of loyalty. That afternoon, just as the which an army is merely a rabble was King was sitting down to dinner, ar- necessarily at an end. What discipline rived an express with the tidings of could there be among soldiers who had Cornbury's defection. James turned just been saved from a snare by refusing away from his untasted meal, swallowed to follow their commanding officer on a a crust of bread and a glass of wine, secret expedition, and by insisting on a and retired to his closet. He afterwards sight of his orders? learned that, as he was rising from Cornbury was soon kept in countetable, several of the Lords in whom he nance by a crowd of deserters superior reposed the greatest confidence were to him in rank and capacity: but shaking hands and congratulating each during a few days he stood alone in other in the adjoining gallery. When his shame, and was bitterly reviled by the news was carried to the Queen's many who afterwards imitated his apartments she and her ladies broke example and envied his dishonourable out into tears and loud cries of sorrow.* precedence. Among these was his own The blow was indeed a heavy one. It father. The first outbreak of Clarenwas true that the direct loss to the don's rage and sorrow was highly crown and the direct gain to the in-pathetic. "Oh God!" he ejaculated, vaders hardly amounted to two hundred "that a son of mine should be a men and as many horses. But where rebel!" A fortnight later he made could the King henceforth expect to up his mind to be a rebel himself. find those sentiments in which consists Yet it would be unjust to pronounce the strength of states and of armies? him a mere hypocrite. In revolutions Cornbury was the heir of a house con- men live fast: the experience of years spicuous for its attachment to monarchy. is crowded into hours: old habits of His father Clarendon, his uncle Ro- thought and action are violently brochester, were men whose loyalty was ken; and novelties, which at first sight supposed to be proof to all temptation. inspire dread and disgust, become in a What must be the strength of that feel- few days familiar, endurable, attractive. ing against which the most deeply Many men of far purer virtue and rooted hereditary prejudices were of no higher spirit than Clarendon were preavail, of that feeling which could recon-pared, before that memorable year cile a young officer of high birth to ended, to do what they would have desertion, aggravated by breach of pronounced wicked and infamous when trust and by gross falsehood? That it began. Cornbury was not a man of brilliant parts or enterprising temper made the event more alarming. It was impossible to doubt that he had in some quarter a powerful and artful prompter. Who that prompter was soon became evident. In the meantime no man in the royal camp could feel assured that he was not surrounded by traitors. Political rank, military rank, the honour of a The unhappy father composed himself as well as he could, and sent to ask a private audience of the King. It was granted. James said, with more than his usual graciousness, that he from his heart pitied Cornbury's relations, and should not hold them at all accountable for the crime of their unworthy kinsman. Clarendon went home, scarcely daring to look his friends in the face. Soon, however, he learned with surprise that the act, which had, as he at first thought, for himself up. Petition of e Lords for a Parliament. ever dishonoured his family, was ap-service of his gracious master: Grafton plauded by some persons of high was loud and forward in similar prostation. His niece, the Princess of testations; and the example was folDenmark, asked him why he shut lowed by Kirke and Trelawney.* Deceived by these professions, the King prepared to set out for Salisbury. Before his departure he was informed that a considerable number of peers, temporal and spiritual, desired to be admitted to an audience. They came, with Sancroft at their head, to present a petition, praying that a free and legal Parliament might be called, and that a negotiation might be opened with the Prince of Orange. And now the King, greatly disturbed, called together the principal officers who were still in London. Churchill, who was about this time promoted to the rank of Lieutenant General, made his appearance with that bland serenity The history of this petition is curious. which neither peril nor infamy could The thought seems to have occurred at ever disturb. The meeting was attended once to two great chiefs of parties who by Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Grafton, had long been rivals and enemies, whose audacity and activity made him Rochester and Halifax. They both, conspicuous among the natural children independently of one another, consulted of Charles the Second. Grafton was the Bishops. The Bishops warmly colonel of the first regiment of Foot approved the suggestion. It was then Guards. He seems to have been at proposed that a general meeting of this time completely under Churchill's peers should be called to deliberate on influence, and was prepared to desert the form of an address to the King. the royal standard as soon as the It was term time; and in term time favourable moment should arrive. Two men of rank and fashion then lounged other traitors were in the circle, Kirke every day in Westminster Hall as they and Trelawney, who commanded those now lounge in the clubs of Pall Mall two fierce and lawless bands then and Saint James's Street. Nothing known as the Tangier regiments. could be easier than for the Lords who Both of them had, like the other Pro-assembled there to step aside into testant officers of the army, long seen some adjoining room, and to hold a with extreme displeasure the partiality consultation. But unexpected diffiwhich the King had shown to members culties arose. Halifax became first of his own Church; and Trelawney cold and then adverse. It was his remembered with bitter resentment the nature to discover objections to everypersecution of his brother the Bishop thing; and on this occasion his sagacity of Bristol. James addressed the assem- was quickened by rivalry. The scheme, bly in language worthy of a better man which he had approved while he reand of a better cause. It might be, he garded it as his own, began to displease said, that some of the officers had him as soon as he found that it was conscientious scruples about fighting also the scheme of Rochester, by whom for him. If so, he was willing to he had been long thwarted and at receive back their commissions. But length supplanted, and whom he dishe adjured them as gentlemen and liked as much as it was in his easy soldiers not to imitate the shameful nature to dislike anybody. Nottingexample of Cornbury. All seemed ham was at that time much under the moved; and none more than Churchill. influence of Halifax. They both He was the first to vow with well declared that they would not join in feigned enthusiasm that he would shed the address if Rochester signed it. the last drop of his blood in the Clarendon expostulated in vain. "I 1688. Clarendon's Diary. Nov. 15, 16, 17. 20. * Life of James, ii. 219. Orig. Mem. |