bloodshed. The King also touched for the King's Evil once more with Petre as his chaplain. САМЕО XIII. Churchill. 1688. The peers presented a petition, headed by Sancroft, for the assembly Desertion of of a Parliament; but James said it was no time for such a meeting when a foreign enemy was in the kingdom. Almost at the same time came the tidings that Lord Cornbury, the eldest son of the Earl of Clarendon, who was stationed at Salisbury, had gone over to the Prince at Exeter. He had tried to take three regiments with him, but the officers were loyal and he went alone, though sixty-six of the common soldiers straggled after him. The news came just as the King was going to sit down to dinner. He took only a piece of bread and glass of wine, and sent for all the officers within reach, Lord Churchill, as well as his own nephew, the Duke of Grafton (son to Lady Castlemaine), Colonels Kirke and Trelawney, the brother of the Bishop of Bristol, and Colonel Graham of Claverhouse, whom he had just created Viscount Dundee, who all promised to serve him to the last drop of their blood. London was full of tumult, a new nunnery was pulled down by the mob, and no Romish priest or monk could show himself in his habit. James decided on, while at once joining his army, sending away his son to France, fearing as much for the poor child's safety as lest his name should be used against him. He himself conveyed the nursery party as far as Salisbury, whence he sent them on to Portsmouth, where the Duke of Berwick was commandant, with orders to Lord Dartmouth to forward them to France. On the 19th, on his arrival at Salisbury, Lord Feversham reported that the troops seemed disaffected, and recommended falling back to Windsor, as the Prince of Orange was moving from Exeter. Churchill advised an advance, and in the meantime there was a skirmish at Wincanton between the advanced guards of the two armies, in which James's Irish, under Colonel Sarsfield, were driven by the Dutch and the country people, who hated nothing so much as an Irishman. James decided on visiting his outposts at Warminster under Colonels Kirke and Trelawney; but a terrible attack of bleeding at the nose disabled him, and was renewed the next day when he was about to mount his horse. The mode of checking it was bleeding from the arm, and this rendered him utterly exhausted and incapable. No doubt distress and agitation were the cause; he was almost at the age at which his brother had been cut off by apoplexy, and this relief of pressure probably saved his life, even as the delay it caused prevented his being actually captured by Kirke and Trelawney and carried a prisoner to William; but the loss of blood seemed to have drained away the energy and perseverance of his younger days, and blow upon blow awaited him. That night Lord Churchill galloped off to join the prince, leaving behind him a letter excusing himself for his desertion after all the favours he had received, and which he warmly acknowledged, saying that nothing but his religious duty could have actuated him; and, though CAMEO his conscience would not allow him to fight against the Prince, he would always, at a hazard of his life and fortune, endeavour to preserve the The Defec- King's royal person and just rights. With him went the Duke of tion in the Army. 1688. Grafton, who was known to have much influence in the navy, and the next day came news that Captain Churchill, the general's brother, had taken his frigate over to Admiral Herbert, and that Lord Dartmouth did not believe that several others of his captains would fight the Dutch fleet. James sent urgent orders for his son to be carried to France, and finding many of his officers insubordinate, and hearing that the Prince of Orange was at Axminster, decided on retreating to London, rather than hazard a battle which might give opportunity for a mighty treachery. He fell back to Andover, and that very night Prince George of Denmark, after supping with him, went off to the Prince, attended by Sir George Hewitt, leaving a wonderful composition to be delivered to the King. "My first concern is for that religion in which I have been so happily educated, which my judgment truly convinced me to be the best, and for the support thereof I am highly interested in my native country, and was not England then become so by the most endearing tie ?” Whether James doubted whether any "endearing tie" could make a man a native of the country where he was not born does not appear. He only said, alluding to George's stock reply, "Is Est-il possible gone too? I only mind him as connected with my dearest child. Otherwise the loss of a stout trooper would have been greater." But with the Prince went the young Duke of Ormond, grandson to the great old Duke who had died in July, and the Earl of Drumlanrig, eldest son of the Duke of Queensberry, and Lieutenant-Colonel of Lord Dundee's own regiment. The gallant old Schomberg, who had openly solicited and received honourable dismissal from Louis XIV. before quitting his service, did not conceal his feelings when these gentlemen appeared. "Sir," he said to Churchill, "you are the first deserter of the rank of a Lieutenant-General I ever saw.' The unhappy James felt as if the solid ground had given way under his feet. He really had with him no one whom he could trust except Lords Feversham, Dundee, and the Duke of Berwick, his own son by Arabella Churchill, and thus nephew to the prime mover in the great desertion. Ill and miserable, he drove off for London, and there a still more crushing blow awaited him-his daughter Anne was gone! There seems to have been some idea of arresting Lady Churchill, and that sentries had been doubled round the Cockpit; but Anne, or more probably the woman who dominated over her, had contrived to have a private stair constructed from her rooms to St. James's Park ; and the Bishop of London, her old tutor, had been made aware of her intentions. On Sunday night, the 25th, after supping with the Queen, Anne waited till one o'clock, then stole down the stairs with It was raining hard, and before reaching the hackney coach in which the Bishop of London was waiting for her, Anne lost a shoe in the mud; and with its place partially supplied by Lord Dorset's glove, she scrambled forward with his support, giggling with excitement, to the carriage, which took her to the Bishop's house. Thence, before morning, she started for Nottingham, the Bishop assuming a military dress and jack-boots, and riding as her escort. Lords Chesterfield and Ferrers and several gentlemen met her there, and so did the force already raised by Devonshire and Gray. At Leicester, whither she next proceeded, a sort of council was held, in which it was announced that the Princess wished to have an association formed for the extermination of all the Papists in England, in case the Prince of Orange should be killed or murdered by any of them. No doubt silly, good-natured Anne did not half understand the force of this proposal, but a paper was really drawn up by Bishop Compton, which Chesterfield, Ferrers, and the more loyal and moderate gentlemen refused to sign. When Anne was missed in the morning, her attendants rushed to the Queen's apartments, screaming that the priests had murdered her, and the news spreading to the streets, there were tumultuous throngings round Whitehall, and threats to pull it down unless the Princess were produced. However, a letter was found open on her toilet-table, professing that she was so much divided between her duty to her father and husband, as to be forced to absent herself; and her departure having thus been explained, the mob was pacified, and the letter was published in the morning without its ever having been seen by the Queen, to whom it was addressed. In the afternoon of that 26th, James, bloodless, exhausted, and depressed, arrived in London, where the first news he heard was of his daughter's flight, and then, in utter wretchedness, he uttered the piteous ejaculation, "God help me! My own children are deserting me." And when he reached Whitehall, to hear the tidings confirmed, his exclamation was, "Oh, if only mine enemies had cursed me, I could have borne it! He was so ill and unnerved that for a time it was feared that his mind was losing its balance, and his anxiety to have his son in safety was very great. "It is my son whom they aim at!" was his cry, and to his despair Dartmouth wrote word that he found it impossible, and considered as treasonable, to ship the Prince off to France; so that nothing could be done but to return the poor child to his parents. Meantime, James held counsel with the few who were left to him-his two brothers-in-law, Clarendon and Rochester, Halifax, Nottingham, Jeffreys, and Godolphin. To summon a Parliament, dismiss all Roman CAMEO XIII. Departure of Anne. 1638. CAMEO Flight of the Queen. 1688. Catholics from office, and disavow French counsels, was the advice, as well as to treat with the Prince of Orange. James consented, but said at the same time that he was convinced that his nephew aimed at his crown, that he had read the history of Richard II., and was sure that Churchill meant to have delivered him up as prisoner; and while making Halifax, Nottingham, and Godolphin his commissioners, and desiring writs to be prepared for a Parliament, he privately told Barillon that his whole hope was in France, since he had not an English regiment which he could trust, and that he hoped to put his wife and child in safety, follow them himself, and then try to redeem his fortune in Scotland or Ireland. Neither had Jeffreys much hope for himself, for when asked what were the heads of the Prince's requirements he answered that he did not know, except that his own head was sure to be one of them. A conference was held at Hungerford, but William refused to be present at it, withdrawing to Littlecote Hall, so that he might leave the terms to be settled by the English nobles and gentlemen who had joined him, and plans were made for each army being quartered twenty miles from London-one east, the other west-while Parliament met. It was on the first day of these conferences that Lady Powis brought the Prince back to London. Two Irish regiments had been sent to escort him, but missed him, and he was brought to Guildford without meeting them. On their return to London the mob received them with hootings and peltings, so that they had to disperse, and every man to shift for himself. On this, James sent for Monsieur de St. Victor, a gentleman of Avignon, and for that strange person, the Count de Lauzun, who was visiting England after his quarrel with Mademoiselle, and in great secrecy committed to them the care of the safety of his wife and child. Two yachts were hired at Gravesend, one in the name of an Italian lady, the other in that of Lauzun; and St. Victor, leaving London with three coaches and a detachment of guards and dragoons, conducted the little Prince, under cover of night, from Guildford, and brought him to Whitehall at three o'clock on the morning of Sunday, the 9th of December. All that day the populace of London were in a noisy, tumultuous state, storming the houses of Roman Catholics, and eagerly listening for tidings. The inmates of Whitehall felt as if in a state of siege, and the Queen intreated to be allowed to share her husband's dangers, and not be sent away; but he said it was his purpose to follow her immediately, and insisted on her going. At ten at night, the state-going to bed took place as usual, but by midnight both were up and dressed, when St. Victor, in the disguise of a sailor, came up the secret stairs to the King's closet, bringing the thick petticoat, cloak and hood that the Queen was to wear. Lauzun and he waited till she was ready, securing meantime such jewels as could be hidden on their persons. At two o'clock the Prince was taken up by Mrs. Labadie, who was to go with another nurse, and James, turning to Lauzun, said, "I confide my Queen and son to you." CAMEO XIII. James's 1688. Along the great gallery sped as silently as possible the Queen, the two Frenchmen, and the two nurses, with the babe happily asleep, down the back stairs, through a postern door unlocked by St. Victor, across the gardens, passing six sentinels, but St. Victor had the key and the first flight. word, and they safely reached the carriage waiting at the door of the gardens. Then, with St. Victor on the box, they drove to Westminster to the stairs called Horseferry, where a boat which St. Victor sometimes hired for duck-shooting at night was waiting. It was a very dark, wet night, and the party could not see one another in the boat, though they were sitting close together, and wind and tide made the crossing very difficult, but the approach to the stairs on the other side was made at last. Dusien, the page of the back stairs, awaited them, and answered the call, but had to go back to the inn to fetch the coach and six that Lauzun had engaged. During this time the Queen and her companions had to crouch for shelter from the rain under the walls of Lambeth Church, in momentary fear that the babe should wake and cry, but he slept soundly through all, little thinking that he was reft of a crown. The coach was brought and on they drove, once or twice meeting persons, and once hearing the exclamation, "Here's a coach full of Papists!" Three Irish captains had a boat ready at Gravesend, and thus the fugitives reached the ship, where a party of the immediate attendants of the Queen, English and foreign, had already arrived; and after a terribly rough and suffering passage, they safely arrived at Calais, and thence moved to Boulogne to await tidings of the King. Louis at once forgave Lauzun and admitted him to the presence, sending an escort to bring the Queen to Paris with all honours, but she remained in great anxiety watching for her husband. He spent a terrible day after her departure, ill tidings coming in every hour-Plymouth and Bristol both submitting to the Prince, a Scotch regiment deserting. He held a last council, at which the Lord Mayor was present, but this was only as a blind, and he commanded the Lord Chancellor to leave the Great Seal with him, though appointing a meeting for the next morning. He wrote a letter to Lord Feversham, saying that he was obliged to escape, lest he should be endangered by falling into the enemy's hands, but that if he could have relied on his troops, he should have struck one blow, but bidding him disband the army. Feversham's soldiers, mostly Irish, wept when it was read to them. After going to bed as usual, James rose at midnight, dressed himself in a black wig and plain clothes, and, only attended by Sir Edward Hales, the ex-governor of the Tower, left Whitehall by the same route as the Queen, and while being rowed across the river to Vauxhall, threw in the Great Seal. From Vauxhall he rode to Emley ferry, near Feversham, and embarked in a hoy which had been hired by Sir Edward Hales; but a fresh wind and want of ballast made it needful |