haps the mother of some rebel who had perished in the carnage of Sedgemoor, or in the more fearful carnage of the Bloody Circuit, broke from the crowd, rushed through the drawn swords and curvetting horses, touched the hand of the deliverer, and cried out that now she was happy. Near to the Prince was one who divided with him the gaze of the multitude. That, men said, was the great Count Schomberg, the first soldier in Europe, since Turenne and Condé were gone, the man whose genius and valour had saved the Portuguese monarchy on the field of Montes Claros, the man who had earned a still higher glory by resigning the truncheon of a Marshal of France for the sake of the true religion. It was not forgotten that the two heroes who, indissolubly united by their common Protestantism, were entering Exeter together, had twelve years before been opposed to each other under the walls of Maestricht, and that the energy of the young Prince had not then been found a match for the cool science of the veteran who now rode in friendship by his side. Then came a long column of the whiskered infantry of Switzerland, distinguished in all the Continental wars of two centuries by preeminent valour and discipline, but never till that week seen on English ground. And then marched a succession of bands, designated, as was the fashion of that age, after their leaders, Bentinck, Solmes, and Ginkell, Talmash and Mackay. With peculiar pleasure Englishmen might look on one gallant regiment which still bore the name of the honoured and lamented Ossory. The effect of the spectacle was heightened by the recollection of more than one renowned event in which the warriors now pouring through the West Gate had borne a share. For they had seen service very different from that of the Devonshire militia, or of the camp at Hounslow. Some of them had repelled the fiery onset of the French on the field of Seneff; and others had crossed swords with the infidels in the cause of Christendom on that great day when the siege of Vienna was raised. The very senses of the multitude were fooled by imagination. Newsletters conveyed to every part of the kingdom fabulous accounts of the size and strength of the invaders. It was affirmed that they were, with scarcely an exception, above six feet high, and that they wielded such huge pikes, swords, and muskets, as had never before been seen in England. Nor did the wonder of the population diminish when the artillery arrived, twenty-one heavy pieces of brass cannon,

CHAP.

IX.

CHAP.
IX.

which were with difficulty tugged along by sixteen cart horses to each. Much curiosity was excited by a strange structure mounted on wheels. It proved to be a movable smithy, furnished with all tools and materials necessary for repairing arms and carriages. But nothing caused so much astonishment as the bridge of boats, which was laid with great speed on the Exe for the conveyance of waggons, and afterwards as speedily taken to pieces and carried away. It was made, if report said true, after a pattern contrived by the Christians who were warring against the Great Turk on the Danube. The foreigners inspired as much good will as admiration. Their politic leader took care to distribute the quarters in such a manner as to cause the smallest possible inconvenience to the inhabitants of Exeter and of the neighbouring villages. The most rigid discipline was maintained. Not only were pillage and outrage effectually prevented, but the troops were required to demean themselves with civility towards all classes. Those who had formed their notions of an army from the conduct of Kirke and his Lambs were amazed to see soldiers who never swore at a landlady or took an egg without paying for it. In return for this moderation the people furnished the troops with provisions in great abundance and at reasonable prices.*

Much depended on the course which, at this great crisis, the clergy of the Church of England might take; and the members of the Chapter of Exeter were the first who were called upon to declare their sentiments. Burnet informed the Canons, now left without a head by the flight of the Dean, that they could not be permitted to use the prayer for the Prince of Wales, and that a solemn service must be performed in honour of the safe arrival of the Prince. The

*See Whittle's Diary, the Expedition of His Highness, and the Letter from Exon published at the time. I have myself seen two manuscript newsletters describing the pomp of the Prince's entrance into Exeter. A few months later a bad poet wrote a play, entitled "The late Revolution." One scene is laid at Exeter. "Enter battalions of the Prince's army, on their march into the city, with colours flying, drums beating, and the citizens shouting." A nobleman named Misopapas says,-

"Can you guess, my lord, How dreadful guilt and fear has repre sented

Your army to the court? Your number

and your stature

Are both advanced; all six foot high at least,

In bearskins clad, Swiss, Swedes, and Brandenburghers."

In a song which appeared just after the entrance into Exeter, the Irish are described as mere dwarfs in comparison of the giants whom William commanded: "Poor Berwick, how will thy dear joys Oppose this famed viaggio? Thy tallest sparks will be mere toys To Brandenburgh and Swedish boys, Coraggio! Coraggio!"

Addison alludes, in the Freeholder, to the extraordinary effect which these romantic stories produced.

IX.

Canons did not choose to appear in their stalls; but some of CHAP. the choristers and prebendaries attended. William repaired in military state to the Cathedral. As he passed under the gorgeous screen, that renowned organ, scarcely surpassed by any of those which are the boast of his native Holland, gave out a peal of triumph. He mounted the Bishop's seat, a stately throne rich with the carving of the fifteenth century. Burnet stood below; and a crowd of warriors and nobles appeared on the right hand and on the left. The singers, robed in white, sang the Te Deum. When the chaunt was over, Burnet read the Prince's Declaration: but, as soon as the first words were uttered, prebendaries and singers crowded in all haste out of the choir. At the close Burnet cried in

a loud voice, "God save the Prince of Orange!" and many fervent voices answered, "Amen."*

On Sunday, the eleventh of November, Burnet preached before the Prince in the Cathedral, and dilated on the signal mercy vouchsafed by God to the English Church and nation. At the same time a singular event happened in a humbler place of worship. Ferguson resolved to preach at the Presbyterian meeting house. The minister and elders would not consent: but the turbulent and halfwitted knave, fancying that the times of Fleetwood and Harrison were come again, forced the door, went through the congregation sword in hand, mounted the pulpit, and there poured forth a fiery invective against the King. The time for such follies had gone by: and this exhibition excited nothing but derision and disgust.†

sation of the King with the Bishops.

While these things were passing in Devonshire the ferment Converwas great in London. The Prince's Declaration, in spite of all precautions, was now in every man's hands. On the sixth of November James, still uncertain on what part of the coast the invaders had landed, summoned the Primate and three other Bishops, Compton of London, White of Peterborough, and Sprat of Rochester, to a conference in the closet. The King listened graciously while the prelates made warm professions of loyalty, and assured them that he did not suspect them. "But where," said he, "is the paper that you were to bring me?" "Sir," answered Sancroft, "we have brought no paper. We are not solicitous to clear our fame to the

* Expedition of the Prince of Orange; Oldmixon, 755.; Whittle's Diary; Eachard, iii. 911.; London Gazette, Nov. 15.

1688.

+ London Gazette, Nov. 15. 1688; Expedition of the Prince of Orange.

CHAP.
IX.

world. It is no new thing to us to be reviled and falsely
accused. Our consciences acquit us: Your Majesty acquits
us; and we are satisfied." "Yes," said the King; " but a
declaration from you is necessary to my service." He then
produced a copy of the Prince's manifesto. "See," he said,
"how you are mentioned here." Sir," answered one of the
Bishops, "not one person in five hundred believes this mani-
festo to be genuine." "No!" cried the King fiercely: "then
those five hundred would bring the Prince of Orange to cut
my throat." "God forbid," exclaimed the prelates in concert.
But the King's understanding, never very clear, was now
quite bewildered. One of his peculiarities was that, when-
ever his opinion was not adopted, he fancied that his veracity
was questioned. "This paper not genuine!" he exclaimed,
turning over the leaves with his hands. "Am I not worthy
to be believed? Is my word not to be taken?" "At all
events, sir," said one of the Bishops, "this is not an ecclesi-
astical matter. It lies within the sphere of the civil power.
God has entrusted Your Majesty with the sword and it is
not for us to invade your functions." Then the Archbishop,
with that gentle and temperate malice which inflicts the
deepest wounds, declared that he must be excused from
setting his hand to any political document.
"I and my
brethren, sir," he said, "have already smarted severely for
meddling with affairs of state; and we shall be very cautious.
how we do so again. We once subscribed a petition of the
most harmless kind: we presented it in the most respectful
manner; and we found that we had committed a high offence.
We were saved from ruin only by the merciful protection of
God. And, sir, the ground then taken by Your Majesty's
Attorney and Solicitor was that, out of Parliament, we were
private men, and that it was criminal presumption in private
men to meddle with politics. They attacked us so fiercely
that for my part I gave myself over for lost." "I thank you
for that, my Lord of Canterbury," said the King: "I should
have hoped that you would not have thought yourself lost by
falling into my hands." Such a speech might have become
the mouth of a merciful sovereign, but it came with a bad
grace from a prince who had burned a woman alive for har-
bouring one of his flying enemies, from a prince round whose
knees his own nephew had clung in vain agonies of suppli-
cation. The Archbishop was not to be so silenced. He
resumed his story, and recounted the insults which the

IX.

creatures of the Court had offered to the Church of England, CHAP. among which some ridicule thrown on his own style occupied a conspicuous place. The King had nothing to say but that there was no use in repeating old grievances, and that he had hoped that these things had been quite forgotten. He, who never forgot the smallest injury that he had suffered, could not understand how others should remember for a few weeks the most deadly injuries that he had inflicted.

At length the conversation came back to the point from which it had wandered. The King insisted on having from the Bishops a paper declaring their abhorrence of the Prince's enterprise. They, with many professions of the most submissive loyalty, pertinaciously refused. The Prince, they said, asserted that he had been invited by temporal as well as by spiritual peers. The imputation was common. Why should not the purgation be common also? "I see how it is," said the King. "Some of the temporal peers have been with you, and have persuaded you to cross me in this matter." The Bishops solemnly averred that it was not so. But it would, they said, seem strange that, on a question involving grave political and military considerations, the temporal peers should be entirely passed over, and the prelates alone should be required to take a prominent part. "But this," said James, "is my method. I am your King. It is for me to judge what is best. I will go my own way; and I call on you to assist me." The Bishops assured him that they would assist him 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.

London.

The Bishops had hardly left the royal presence, when a Disturbcourier arrived with the news that on the preceding day the ances in Prince of Orange had landed in Devonshire. During the following week London was violently agitated. On Sunday, the eleventh of November, a rumour was circulated that knives, gridirons, and caldrons, intended for the torturing of heretics, were concealed in the monastery which had been established under the King's protection at Clerkenwell. Great multi

* Life of James, ii. 210. Orig. Mem.; Sprat's Narrative; Van Citters, Nov. 1688.