quickly agreed to open them, and William was accommodated in the vacated deanery. But the people of the west had suffered too much from the support of Monmouth not to have learnt caution. A service was ordered in the cathedral to return thanks for the safe arrival of the prince; but the canons absented themselves, and only some of the prebendaries and choristers attended, and, as soon as Burnet began to read the prince's declaration, these hurried out as fast as they could. On Sunday, which was the 11th, Burnet was the only clergyman that could begot to preach before the prince, and the dissenters refused admittance to the fanatic Ferguson to their chapel. That extraordinary person, however, who appears to have been one-third enthusiast and two-thirds knave, called for a hammer, and exclaiming, "I will take the kingdom of heaven by storm!" broke open the door, marched to the pulpit with his drawn sword in his hand, and delivered one of those wild and ill-judged philippics against the king which did so much mischief in the cause of Monmouth.
Altogether, so far the cause of William appeared as little promising as that of Monmouth had done. Notwithstanding the many and earnest entreaties from men of high rank and of various classes, nobles, bishops, officers of army and navy, a week had elapsed, and no single person of influence had joined him. The people only, as in Monmouth's case, had crowded about him with acclamations of welcome. William was extremely disappointed and chagrined; he declared that he was deluded and betrayal, and he vowed that he would reimbark, and leave those who had called for him to work out their own deliverance, or receive their due punishment. But on Monday, the 12th, his spirits were a little cheered by a gentleman of Crediton, named Burrington, attended by a few followers, joining his standard. This was immediately followed, however, by the news that lord Lovelace, with about seventy of his tenants and neighbours, had been intercepted by the militia at Cirencester, taken prisoners, and sent to Gloucester castle. The slow movement of the disaffected appears to have originated in Williams not having landed in Yorkshire, as was expected, but in the west, where he was not expected. In the north, lord Delamere and Brandon in Cheshire, Danby and Lumley in Yorkshire, Devonshire and Chesterfield in Derbyshire: in Lancashire the earl of Manchester, in Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire Rutland and Stamford, and others were all waiting to receive him. The very army which had been encamped on Hounslow Heath was the seat of secret conspiracy of officers, with Churchill himself at their head, who kept up constant communication with the club at the Rose tavern, in Covent Garden, of which lord Colchester was president. But all this concert was paralysed for a time by William's appearance in so distant a quarter.
But the elements of revolt which had suffered a momentary shock now began to move visibly. The very day that lord Lovelace was captured, lord Colchester marched into Exeter, attended by about seventy horse, and accompanied by the hero of Lillibullero, Thomas Wharton. They were quickly followed by Russell, the son of the duke of Bedford, one of the earliest promoters of the revolution, and still more significantly by the earl of Abinmlon, a stanch tory, who had supported James till be saw that nothing but the reign of popery would satisfy him. A still more striking defection from the king immediately followed. Lord Cornbury, the eldest son of the earl of Clarendon, pretended to have received orders to march with three regiments of cavalry stationed at Salisbury moor to the enemy in the west, He was a young man, entirely under the influence of lord Churchill, having been brought up in the household of his cousin, the princes; Anne, where Churchill and his wife directed everything; and there can be no doubt that this movement was the work of Churchill was the cavalry proceeded from place to place by a circuitous route to Axminster, the officers became suspicious, and demanded to see the orders. Cornbury replied that his orders wore to beat up the quarters of the army in the night near Honiton. The loyal officers, who had received hints that all was not right, demanded to see the written orders; but Cornbury, who had none to produce, stole away in the dark with a few followers who were in the secret, and got to the Dutch camp. His regiment, and that of the duke of Berwick, James's own son, with the exception of about thirty troops, returned to Salisbury; but the third regiment, the duke of St. Alban's, followed the colonel, Langton, to Honiton, where general Talmash received them; and most of the officers and a hundred and fifty privates declared for the prince, the rest being made prisoners, but soon afterwards discharged.
The news of this defection of one so near to the king's family created the greatest consternation in the palace. The king rose from table without finishing his dinner, and there were terror and tears amongst the queen's ladies, the queen herself appearing quite prostrated. What made the matter the more alarming was the undisguised joy which appeared amongst the king's most trust officers. Clarendon pretended to be overwhelmed at so unlooked-for a calamity as the treason of his son.
"O God! "he exclaimed, "that a son of mine should be a rebel!" But subsequent events soon showed that this was mere affectation; in another fortnight he became a rebel himself. He was not long in discovering that there were plenty of people about the court who applauded his son's conduct, and the princess Anne herself asked why he made trouble of it. "People," she niavely remarked, "are very uneasy about popery, and there are plenty more in the army who will do the same." In fact, it is not to be forgotten that, though the Hydes were nearly related by marriage to the throne, they were still more nearly related to the invading party by blood. Both Clarendon and Rochester had been disgraced and dismissed for their unbending protestantism; and they had no hope whatever from the popish prince, but every expectation from the protestant aspirants.
In his terror, James summoned a military council. He was anxious to receive the assurances of fidelity from his other officers—as if any assurances, under the circumstances, anything but leading them against the enemy, could test the loyalty of these men. He told them that he wished to be satisfied that there were no more Cornburys amongst them; and that, if any present had any scruple about fighting for him, he was ready to receive back their commissions. Of course they all protested the most ardent devotion to his cause, though not a man of them but was not already pledged to desert him. There were Churchill, recently made
