for, though his treason was not patent at this time, it afterwards became certain enough that he maintained a close correspondence with the courts of both St. Germains and Versailles. But, whether traitor or imbecile, London was in no degree confident of his being able to repel the French. It was believed by numbers that the dockyards at Chatham would be destroyed, the ships in the Thames under protection of the Tower be set fire to, and the Tower itself be cannonaded. To add to the gloom and affright, the news of the defeat of count Waldeck at Fleurus, in the Netherlands, by Luxembourg, Louis's general, just then arrived. Paris was ablaze with fireworks and rejoicings, London was all gloom and panic.
And truly these were very menacing circumstances. Tourville was insolently bearding us on our own coasts; Torrington dared not or would not go to encounter him; and marshal Humières lay with a strong force on the opposite shores, not far from Dunkirk, in readiness, it was believed, to go on board Tourville's fleet and make a descent on England, where the Jacobites were all in readiness to join the invaders. But on the fourth day after the battle of Beachy Head, arrived the news of William's splendid victory on the Boyne, and the spirit of the nation rose at once. It was felt that the ascendancy of James was over, and the news of his ignominious flight, which soon followed, completely extinguished the hopes of his partisans, and gave stability to the throne of William and Mary.
And this was very soon strikingly demonstrated. Tourville triumphantly ranged along our coasts, after his victory at Beachy Head, without opposition, and he now proudly imagined that nothing was necessary to the restoration of James but a descent on England with a tolerable force, which was certain to be welcomed and swelled by the expectant Jacobites. Accordingly Tourville took on board a considerable body of soldiers, and made for the coast of Devon. His fleet numbered a hundred and eleven sail, but of those a large amount were mere Mediterranean galleys, rowed by slaves, and sent as transports to carry over the troops. On the 22nd of July he landed at Torbay, where William himself had landed; but, instead of finding the gentry or the people ready to join him in support of king James, the whole west rose as a man at the blaze of the beacon signals which blazed on all the hill-tops. Messengers were spurring from place to place all night to carry the exact intelligence to the authorities; and the next morning all Devonshire appeared to be marching for Torbay. Tourville speedily beheld numbers of armed horsemen, the gentry and yeomanry of the neighbourhood, assembled on the hills, and everything warned him to embark again as quickly as possible. But he would not retire without leaving some trace of his visit. He despatched a number of his galleys to Teignmouth, where the French landed, set fire to the town, burned down a hundred houses, destroyed the fishing-boats in the harbour, killed or drove away all the live stock they could find, and demolished the interior of the churches, the pulpits, the communion-tables, and the Bibles and Prayer-books, which they tore up and trampled under foot in their hatred of protestantism.
This specimen of what England was to expect if England was to receive back the popish James at the point of French bayonets produced the most salutary effects on the whole nation. The indignation of the protestants at the desecration of their worship and its symbols was scarcely less than the shame and mortification of many of the leading Jacobites, whose patriotism was roused by the reflection that, to restore James only by a French invasion, and to see the wealth of England become the prey of the Gallic plunderers of Germany and Flanders, to see the quiet and prosperous vales and homes of England laid waste by the lawless hordes which had laid waste the palatinate, and everything which was sound and national made the mockery of these proud and ruthless foreigners—would be humiliation under which even they could not stoop. Accordingly, the very men who had been secretly conspiring to bring in James again, who had been secretly drilling their tenantry and neighbours to unite with his forces on his arrival, spurning the idea of being parties to a French invasion, burnt the commissions which they had received from James, secreted or destroyed their weapons, and united in the burst of patriotic devotion to the reigning dynasty which flashed forth from end to end of England. Nothing had yet done the cause of William so much good.
Mary showed herself equal to the emergency in the absence of her husband. She applied to the lord mayor to know what state of defence the city was in, and received the most prompt and satisfactory answer. His lordship assured her that the city would stand by her to a man; that it had ten thousand men well armed and disciplined, prepared to march, if necessary, at an hour's notice; that it would raise six regiments of foot and two regiments of horse at its own cost, and pay besides into the loyal treasury a hundred thousand pounds. The country everywhere displayed the same loyalty. The yeoman cavalry of the different counties assembled in arms; those of Suffolk, Essex, Hertford, and Buckingham marched to Hounslow Heath, where Mary received them amid acclamations of loyalty; she received the cavalry troops of Kent and Surrey likewise on Blackheath. The militia was called out; noblemen hurried to their counties to take the command of the forces there on foot; and others, amongst whom was the lately recreant Shrewsbury, flocked to Whitehall to offer their lives and fortunes for the defence of the throne. The miners of Cornwall appeared ten thousand in number, armed as best they might be, ready to expel the invaders. Those of the Jacobites who stubbornly retained their faith in James, who still designated him as the stone which the builders had foolishly rejected, and who by their secret press urged the people to the assassination of William, and to vengeance on the protestant supporters, slunk into hiding-places and remained prudently quiet. Even the non-juring clergy and bishops excited the indignation of the masses, as men who encouraged by their conduct the hopes of the papists; and the bishop of Norwich was attacked in his palace, and was only rescued by the prompt measures of the authorities. The non-jurors were suspected of leaning not only to James, but to popery; and a new liturgy, which had been printed and industriously circulated, praying, in no ambiguous words, for the restoration of James by a foreign invasion, and for the murder of William, was widely believed to proceed from them, although they strenuously denied it.
Such was the position of things in England when William
