of a man who conceives himself to have done something eminently virtuous and honorable, that, when the Dutch invasion had thrown Whitehall into consternation, he had offered his services to the court, had pretended to be estranged from the Whigs, and had promised to act as a spy upon them; that he had thus obtained admittance to the royal closet, had vowed fidelity, had been promised large pecuniary rewards, and had procured blank passes which enabled him to travel backward and forward across the hostile outposts. All these things he protested that he had done solely in order that he might, unsuspected, aim a deadly blow at the government, and produce a violent outbreak of popular feeling against the Roman Catholics. The forged proclamation he claimed as one of his contrivances; but whether his claim were well founded may be doubted. He delayed to make it so long that we may reasonably suspect him of having waited for the death of those who could confute him; and he produced no evidence but his own.*

While these things happened in London, every post from every part of the country brought tidings of some new insurrection. Lumley had seized Newcastle. The inhabitants had welcomed him with transport. The statue of the king, which stood on a lofty pedestal of marble, had been pulled down and hurled into the Tyne. The third of December was long remembered at Hull as the towntaking day. That place had a garrison commanded by Lord Langdale, a Roman Catholic. The Protestant officers concerted with the magistracy a plan of revolt; Langdale and his adherents were arrested, and soldiers and citizens united in declaring for the Protestant religion and a free Parliament.†

The eastern counties were up. The Duke of Norfolk, attended by three hundred gentlemen armed and mounted,

* See the Secret History of the Revolution, by Hugh Speke, 1715. In the London library is a copy of this rare work, with a manuscript note which seems to be in Speke's own hand.

+ Brand's History of Newcastle; Tickell's History of Hull.

appeared in the stately market-place of Norwich. The mayor and aldermen met him there, and engaged to stand by him against popery and arbitrary power. Lord Herbert of Cherbury and Sir Edward Harley took up arms in Worcestershire.† Bristol, the second city of the realm, opened its gates to Shrewsbury. Trelawney, the bishop, who had entirely unlearned in the Tower the doctrine of non-resistance, was the first to welcome the prince's troops. Such was the temper of the inhabitants that it was thought unnecessary to leave any garrison among them. The people of Gloucester rose and delivered Lovelace from confinement. An irregular army soon gathered round him. Some of his horsemen had only halters for bridles. Many of his infantry had only clubs for weapons. But this force, such as it was, marched unopposed through counties once devoted to the house of Stuart, and at length entered Oxford in triumph. The magistrates came in state to welcome the insurgents. The University itself, exasperated by recent injuries, was little disposed to pass censures on rebellion. Already some of the heads of houses had dispatched one of their number to assure the Prince of Orange that they were cordially with him, and that they would gladly coin their plate for his service. The Whig chief, therefore, rode through the capital of Toryism amid general acclamation. Before him the drums beat Lillibullero. Behind him came a long stream of horse and foot. The whole High Street was gay with orange ribbons; for already the orange ribbon had the double signification which, after the lapse of one hundred and sixty years, it still retains. Already it was the emblem to the Protestant Englishman of civil and religious

* An account of what passed at Norwich may still be seen in several collections on the original broadside. See, also, the Fourth Collection of Papers, 1688.

+ Clarke's Life of James, ii., 233; MS. Memoir of the Harley family in the Mackintosh Collection.

Citters, Dec., 1688. Letter of the Bishop of Bristol to the Prince of Orange, Dec. 5, 1688, in Dalrymple.

freedom, to the Roman Catholic Celt of subjugation and persecution.*

The

While foes were thus rising up all round the king, friends were fast shrinking from his side. The idea of resistance had become familiar to every mind. Many who had been struck with horror when they heard of the first defections, now blamed themselves for having been so slow to discern the signs of the times. There was no longer any difficulty or danger in repairing to William. king, in calling on the nation to elect representatives, had, by implication, authorized all men to repair to the places where they had votes or interest; and many of those places were already occupied by invaders or insurgents. Clarendon eagerly caught at this opportunity of deserting the falling cause. He knew that his speech in the Council of Peers had given deadly offense; and he was mortified by finding that he was not to be one of the royal commissioners. He had estates in Wiltshire. He determined that his son, the son of whom he had lately spoken with grief and horror, should be a candidate for that county; and, under pretense of looking after the election, he set out for the west. He was speedily followed by Oxford, and by others who had hitherto disclaimed all connection with the prince's enterprise.†

By this time the invaders, steadily though slowly advancing, were within seventy miles of London. Though mid-winter was approaching, the weather was fine, the way was pleasant, and the turf of Salisbury Plain seemed luxuriously smooth to men who had been toiling through the miry ruts of the Devonshire and Somersetshire highways. The route of the army lay close by Stonehenge; and regiment after regiment halted to examine that mysterious ruin, celebrated all over the Continent as the greatest wonder of our island. William entered Salisbury with the same military pomp which he had displayed at Exeter,

# Citters,

Nov. 27

Dec. 7'

1688; Clarendon's Diary, Dec. 11; Song on Lord Lovelace's entry into Oxford, 1688; Burnet, i., 793.

+ Clarendon's Diary, Dec. 2, 3, 4, 5, 1688.

and was lodged there in the palace which the king had occupied a few days before.*

His train was now swelled by the Earls of Clarendon and Oxford, and by other men of high rank, who had, till within a few days, been considered as zealous Royalists. Citters also made his appearance at the Dutch head-quar ters. He had been during some weeks almost a prisoner in his house, near Whitehall, under the constant observation of relays of spies. Yet, in spite of those spies, or perhaps by their help, he had succeeded in obtaining full and accurate intelligence of all that passed in the palace; and now, full fraught with valuable information about men and things, he came to assist the deliberations of William.†

Thus far the prince's enterprise had prospered beyond the anticipations of the most sanguine. And now, according to the general law which governs human affairs, prosperity began to produce disunion. The Englishmen. assembled at Salisbury were divided into two parties. One party consisted of Whigs, who had always regarded the doctrines of passive obedience and of indefeasible hereditary right as slavish superstitions. Many of them had passed years in exile. All had been long shut out from participation in the favors of the crown. They now exulted in the near prospect of greatness and of vengeance. Burning with resentment, flushed with victory and hope, they would hear of no compromise. Nothing less than the deposition of the tyrant would content them; nor can it be disputed that herein they were perfectly consistent. They had exerted themselves, nine years earlier, to exclude him from the throne, because they thought it likely that he would be a bad king. It could therefore scarcely be expected that they would willingly leave him on the throne, now that he had turned out a far worse king than any reasonable man could have anticipated.

On the other hand, not a few of William's followers

* Whittie's Exact Diary; Eachard's History of the Revolution.

were zealous Tories, who had, till very recently, held the doctrine of non-resistance in the most absolute form, but whose faith in that doctrine had, for a moment, given way to the strong passions excited by the ingratitude of the king and by the peril of the Church. No situation could be more painful or perplexing than that of the old Cavalier who found himself in arms against the throne. The scruples which had not prevented him from repairing to the Dutch camp began to torment him cruelly as soon as he was there. His mind misgave him that he had committed a crime. At all events, he had exposed himself to reproach by acting in diametrical opposition to the professions of his whole life. He felt insurmountable disgust for his new allies. They were people whom, ever since he could remember, he had been reviling and persecuting, Presbyterians, Independents, Anabaptists, old soldiers of Cromwell, brisk boys of Shaftesbury, accomplices in the Rye House Plot, captains of the Western Insurrection. He naturally wished to find out some salvo which might soothe his conscience, which might vindicate his consistency, and which might put a distinction between him and the crew of schismatical rebels whom he had always despised and abhorred, but with whom he was now in danger of being confounded. He therefore disclaimed, with vehemence, all thought of taking the crown from that anointed head which the ordinance of heaven and the fundamental laws of the realm had made sacred. His dearest wish was to see a reconciliation effected on terms which would not lower the royal dignity. He was no traitor. He was not, in truth, resisting the kingly authority. He was in arms only because he was convinced that the best service which could be rendered to the throne was to rescue his majesty, by a little gentle coercion, from the hands of wicked: counselors.

The evils which the mutual animosity of these factions tended to produce were, to a great extent, averted by the ascendency and by the wisdom of the prince. Surrounded by eager disputants, officious advisers, abject flatterers,