vigilant spies, malicious tale-bearers, he remained serene and inscrutable. He preserved silence while silence was possible. When he was forced to speak, the earnest and peremptory tone in which he uttered his well-weighed opinions soon silenced every body else. Whatever some of his too zealous adherents might say, he uttered not a word indicating any design on the English crown. He was doubtless well aware that between him and that crown were still interposed obstacles which no prudence might be able to surmount, and which a single false step would make insurmountable. His only chance of obtaining the splendid prize was not to seize it rudely, but to wait till, without any appearance of exertion or stratagem on his part, his secret wish should be accomplished by the force of circumstances, by the blunders of his opponents, and by the free choice of the estates of the realm. Those who ventured to interrogate him learned nothing, and yet could not aecuse him of shuffling. He quietly referred them to his declaration, and assured them that his views had undergone no change since that instrument had been drawn up. So skillfully did he manage his followers that their discord seems rather to have strengthened than to have weakened his hands; but it broke forth with violence when his control was withdrawn, interrupted the harmony of convivial meetings, and did not respect even the sanctity of the house of God. Clarendon, who tried to hide from others and from himself, by an ostentatious display of loyal sentiments, the plain fact that he was a rebel, was shocked to hear some of his new associates laughing over their wine at the royal amnesty which had just been graciously offered to them. They wanted no pardon, they said. They would make the king ask pardon before they had done with him. Still more alarming and disgusting to every good Tory was an incident which happened at Salisbury Cathedral. As soon as the officiating minister began to read the collect for the king, Burnet, among whose many good qualities self-command and a fine sense of the becoming can not be reckoned, rose from his knees, sat down in his stall, and uttered some contemptuous noises which disturbed the devotions of the whole congregation.* In a short time the factions which divided the prince's camp had an opportunity of measuring their strength. The royal commissioners were on their way to him. Several days had elapsed since they had been appointed, and it was thought strange that, in a case of such urgency, there should be such delay. But, in truth, neither James nor William was desirous that negotiations should speedily commence; for James wished only to gain time sufficient for sending his wife and son into France, and the position of William became every day more commanding. At length the prince caused it to be notified to the commissioners that he would meet them at Hungerford. He probably selected this place because, lying at an equal distance from Salisbury and from Oxford, it was well situated for a rendezvous of his most important adherents. At Salisbury were those noblemen and gentlemen who had accompanied him from Holland or had joined him in the west, and at Oxford were many chiefs of the northern insurrection. Late on Thursday, the sixth of December, he reached Hungerford. The little town was soon crowded with men of rank and note who came thither from opposite quarters. The prince was escorted by a strong body of troops. The northern lords brought with them hundreds of irregular cavalry, whose accouterments and horsemanship moved the mirth of men accustomed to the splendor and precision of regular armies.† While the prince lay at Hungerford a sharp encounter took place between two hundred and fifty of his troops and six hundred Irish, who were posted at Reading. The superior discipline of the invaders was signally proved on this occasion. Though greatly outnumbered, they, at one onset, drove the king's forces in confusion through the streets of the town into the market-place. There the Irish attempted to rally; but, being vigorously attacked * Clarendon's Diary, Dec. 6, 7, 1688. t Ibid., Dec. 7, 1688. in front, and fired upon at the same time by the inhabitants from the windows of the neighboring houses, they soon lost heart and fled, with the loss of their colors and of fifty men. Of the conquerors only five fell. The satisfaction which this news gave to the lords and gentlemen who had joined William was unmixed. There was nothing in what had happened to gall their national feelings. The Dutch had not beaten the English, but had assisted an English town to free itself from the insupportable dominion of the Irish.* On the morning of Saturday, the eighth of December, the king's commissioners reached Hungerford. The prince's body guard was drawn up to receive them with military respect. Bentinck welcomed them, and proposed to conduct them immediately to his master. They expressed a hope that the prince would favor them with a private audience; but they were informed that he had resolved to hear them and answer them in public. They were ushered into his bed-chamber, where they found him surrounded by a crowd of noblemen and gentlemen. Halifax, whose rank, age, and abilities entitled him to precedence, was spokesman. The proposition which the commissioners had been instructed to make was that the points in dispute should be referred to the Parliament for which the writs were already sealing, and that, in the mean time, the prince's army would not come within. thirty or forty miles of London. Halifax, having explained that this was the basis on which he and his colleagues were prepared to treat, put into William's hand a letter from the king, and retired. William opened the letter and seemed unusually moved. It was the first letter which he had received from his father-in-law since they had become avowed enemies. Once they had been on good terms, and had written to each other familiarly; nor had they, even when they had begun to regard each other with suspicion and aversion, banished from their * History of the Desertion; Citters, Dec., 1688; Exact Diary; Oldmix. on, 760. correspondence those forms of kindness which persons nearly related by blood and marriage commonly use. The letter which the commissioners had brought was drawn up by a secretary in diplomatic form and in the French language. "I have had many letters from the king," said William, "but they were all in English and in his own hand." He spoke with a sensibility which he was little in the habit of displaying. Perhaps he thought at that moment how much reproach his enterprise, just, beneficent, and necessary as it was, must bring on him and on the wife who was devoted to him. Perhaps he repined at the hard fate which had placed him in such a situation that he could fulfill his public duties only by breaking through domestic ties, and envied the happier condition of those who are not responsible for the welfare of nations. and churches. But such thoughts, if they rose in his mind, were firmly suppressed. He requested the lords and gentlemen whom he had convoked on this occasion to consult together, unrestrained by his presence, as to the answer which ought to be returned. To himself, however, he reserved the power of deciding in the last resort, after hearing their opinion. He then left them and retired to Littlecote Hall, a manor house situated about two miles off, and renowned down to our own times, not more on account of its venerable architecture and furniture than on account of a horrible and mysterious crime which was perpetrated there in the days of the Tudors.* Before he left Hungerford he was told that Halifax had expressed a great desire to see Burnet. In this desire there was nothing strange, for Halifax and Burnet had long been on terms of friendship. No two men, indeed, could resemble each other less. Burnet was utterly destitute of delicacy and tact. Halifax's taste was, fastidious, and his sense of the ludicrous morbidly quick. Burnet viewed every act and every character through a medium distorted and colored by party spirit. The tendency of Halifax's mind was always to see the faults of his al* See a very interesting note on the fifth canto of Sir Walter Scott's Rokeby. |