leading adherents had settled amongst themselves the different offices that they were to occupy as the reward of their adhesion. It was resolved, therefore, if possible, to frighten James into a second flight. No sooner had Feversham delivered his dispatch than he was arrested and thrown into the Round Tower on the charge of having disbanded the army without proper orders, to the danger of the capital, and of having entered the prince's camp without a passport. Zulestein was dispatched to inform James that William declined the proposed conference, and recommended him to remain at Rochester.
James, however, was now bent on returning to London. He had not waited for the prince's answer, but on Sunday, the 16th of December, he entered his capital in a sort of triumphal procession. He was preceded by a number of gentlemen, bareheaded. Immense crowds assembled as if to welcome him back again. They cheered him as he rode along. The bells were rung, and bonfires were lit in the streets. Elated by these signs, as he imagined them, of returning popularity, he no sooner reached Whitehall than he called around him the Jesuits who had hidden themselves, stationed Irish soldiers as guards around his palace, had grace said at his table by a Jesuit priest, and expressed his high indignation at the lords and prelates who had presumed to usurp his functions in his absence—who had, in fact, saved the capital from destruction when he had abandoned it. His folly, however, received an abrupt check. Zulestein was announced, and delivered the stern message of William. James was confounded, but again repeated his invitation for his nephew to come to town, that they might settle all differences in a personal conference. Zulestein coldly assured him that William would not enter London whilst it contained troops not under his orders. "Then," aaid James, "let him bring his own guards, and I will dismiss mine, for I am as well without any as such that I dare not trust." Zulestein, however, retired without further discussion, and the moment he was gone, James was informed of the arrest of Feversham.
Alarmed at these proofs of the stern spirit of William, James sent in haste to Stamps and Levis, leading members of the city council—the lord mayor had never recovered his terror of Jeffreys' presence—to offer to place himself under their protection till all necessary guarantees for the public liberties had been given and accepted. But the common council had not forgotten his seizure of their charter, and the execution of Cornish; and they declined to enter into an engagement which, they said, they might not be able to fulfil. Whilst James was thus learning that though the city acclamations might be proofs of regret for his misfortunes, they were by no means proofs of a desire for his continuing to reign, William, on the same day, the 17th, bade all his leading adherents hold a solemn council, to consider what steps should be taken in this crisis. It was understood that he would never consent to enter London whilst James was there, and it was resolved that he should be removed to Ham House, near Richmond, which the brutal Lauderdale had built out of the bribes of Louis XIV. and the money wrung from the ravaged people of Scotland. Halifax, Shrewsbury, and Delaraere were dispatched to James with this intimation, though Clarendon had done all in his power to have James seized and confined in some foreign fortress till Tyrconnel surrendered Ireland to the prince's party.
Simultaneously with the three lords, William ordered his forces to advance towards London. In the evening of the 17th James heard that the Dutch soldiers had occupied Chelsea and Kennington. By ten o'clock at night Solmes, at the head of three battalions of infantry, was already making across St. James's Park, and sent word that his orders were to take possession of Whitehall, and advised the earl of Craven, who commanded the Coldstream guards, to retire. Craven, though now in his eightieth year, had lost none of the courage and chivalry which he had displayed in the wars of Germany, and which had won him the heart of Elizabeth of Bohemia, who was said to be married to him— declared that, so long as he retained life, no foreign prince should make a king of England a prisoner in his own palace. James, however, ordered him to retire. The Coldstream guards withdrew, and the Dutch guards surrounded the palace. James, as if there were no danger to his person, went composedly to bed, but only to be roused out of his first sleep to receive the deputation from the prince. On reading the letter proposing his removal to Ham, which Halifax informed him must be done before ten o'clock in the morning, James seems to have taken a final resolve to got away. He protested against going to Ham, as a low, damp place in winter, but offered to retire to Rochester. This was a pretty clear indication of his intention to flee—the very object desired. A messenger was dispatched in all speed to the prince, who returned with his full approbation before daybreak.
The morning of the 18th was miserably wet and stormy, but a barge was brought to Whitehall stairs, and the wretched monarch went on board, attended by the lords Arran, Dumbarton, Dundee, Lichfield, and Aylesbury. The spectators could not behold this melancholy abdication—for such it was—of the last potentate of a most unwise line, who had lost a great empire by his incurable infatuation, without tears. Even Shrewsbiuy and Delamere showed much emotion, and endeavoured to soothe the fallen king; but Halifax, incurably wounded in his diplomatic pride by the hollow mission to the prince at Hungerford, stood coldly apart. Boats containing a hundred Dutch soldiers surrounded his barge as it dropped down the river. James landed and slept at Gravesend, and then proceeded to Rochester, where he remained four days.
If anything was still wanted to prove that James's mind was utterly incapable of conceiving that no king could reign in England who would not conform to its ancient constitution, it was his conduct during these days. He learned that as he issued from London, William marched in; that he had taken up his abode at St. James's palace; that the nobles had flocked thither to congratulate him on his arrival; that the next day the duke of Norfolk, who had secured the eastern counties for him, was received with high honour; that the aldermen and common councilmen of the city had waited on him with a zealous address; and that he was urged by the lawyers to assume the crown and summon a parliament. At the same time he saw himself carefully guarded on all sides except that leading to the river, where vessels
