with which the declaration was drawn, that there was hardly a man who was not a downright Jacobite who did not tremble at the belief that it would include him. All in the west of England, where William had landed, and where he had been received on his journey towards London, and all who had resisted James in Ireland, saw the bloody sword at once suspended over their heads. To add to this general consternation, the Jacobites counted up in their exultation all their enemies for the gallows; the least computation was five hundred. Still more, before leaving St. Germains, James bestowed the order of the garter on Powis—now called duke Powis—and on Melfort. The name of Melfort was hideous as a bigoted catholic and blood-thirsty wretch; yet this man was now the acknowledged prime minister and adviser of James. This man had written in his name letters to the Jacobites; was believed to be the writer of this alarming declaration, and, if the invasion succeeded, would be the especial minister and wholesale butcher of Englishmen. To complete the terror, the Irish regiments which had committed such excesses on the protestants of Ireland, and had displayed such cowardice, were to make a large part of the invading army. Were Englishmen to be subjected to the insolence, bigotry, and licence of the Irish in their own country? Never did a proclamation so effectually annihilate the hopes of the proclaimer, and do the work of the enemy. All England was roused to a man, all differences of religion and politics were forgotten to a man; and, had James succeeded in landing, the nation, shoulder to shoulder, would have pushed him and his army into the sea.
The queen and her ministers no sooner read the declaration than they saw the whole effect of it. They had it printed and circulated all over the kingdom with a clever running commentary. Parliament was summoned for the 24th of May, and a number of persons, charged with being concerned with a plot for bringing in James, were arrested, and others absconded. Amongst those seized were Marlborough and lord Huntingdon, who were sent to the Tower; Messrs. Ridley, Knevitt, Hastings, and Ferguson were sent to Newgate; the bishop of Rochester was confined to his own house; the lords Brudenel and Fanshawe, the earls of Dunmore and Middleton, and Sir Andrew Forrester, were next secured. The earls of Scarsdale, Lichfield, and Newborough, the lords Griffin, Forbes, Sir John Fenwick, Sir Theophilus Oglethorpe, and others escaped. The princess Anne expected arrest.
On the 11th of May, a week after Marlborough was sent to the Tower, Russell sailed from the Downs in quest of the French fleet. He was at the head of ninety-nine sail of the line, the greatest force which had ever descended the British Channel. Off Beachy Head he had met Carter and Delaval, who had been watching the French ports, and a fine fleet of Dutchmen was also in conjunction with him. There were between thirty and forty thousand sailors, Dutch and English, on board, and he was supported by the admirals Delaval, Ashley, Cloudesley Shovel, Carter, and Rooke. Van Almonde was in command of the Dutch squadron, with Callemberg and Vandergoes. James meantime was at La Hogue with the army, anxiously awaiting the fleet of De Tourville to carry it over. James confidently calculated on the disaffection of the English admirals, Russell, Delaval, Carter, and others. He sent an emissary to remind Russell of his promises, and to promise him and the other admirals high rewards in return. But Lloyd, the emissary, had found Russell wonderfully changed. The fatal declaration had produced the same effect on him as on others. He told the man that he was desirous to serve James, but that he must first grant a general pardon; and besides, if he met the French fleet, though James was aboard of it, he was determined to fight to the death; he would never allow himself to be beaten by the French.
In London the terror of this known disaffection had been great. The queen and her ministers consulted deeply what should be done. Should they send and arrest the traitors? The effect, they foresaw, would be to scatter terror through the whole fleet. They adopted a far more politic plan. On the 15th of May, as the combined fleet lay off St. Helen's, Russell called together the officers on board his own ship, and informed them that he had a letter from the queen to read them. In this she stated that she had heard rumours of disaffection amongst the officers, but would not believe it. She knew they would fight as became Englishmen for their country. The letter had an instant and wondrous effect. They immediately signed unanimously a declaration that they would live and die for the crown, the protestant religion, and the freedom of England. On the 18th the fleet sailed for the coast of France, and the next day descried the fleet of Tourville. Tourville had only sixty-three ships of the line, and he had orders, if he met the English fleet, to engage. But Louis had since learned the junction of the Dutch with the English, and dispatched messengers to warn him, but they were intercepted. Tourville, however, notwithstanding the preponderance of the enemy, determined to engage. He had been upbraided after the fight at Beachy Head as timid; his blood was roused, and, besides, he confidently believed that three-fourths of the English fleet were secretly for James, and would at the first brush come over to him. As he lay off Barfleur on the morning of the 19th he saw the long line of the enemy before him, and bore down upon them for battle.
At eleven o'clock the French admiral opened fire on part of the English fleet, the rest not being able to get up from the wind being contrary. The spirit with which the English received him at once dissipated Tourville's hopes of defection amongst them. The conflict continued with uncommon fury till one o'clock, when Russell was compelled to allow his flag-ship, the Rising Sun, carrying a hundred and four guns, to be towed out of the line from the damage she had received. But the fight continued furiously till three o'clock, when a fog parted the enemies. Soon after, however, a wind favourable to the English sprung up, and at the same time dispersed the fog. Fresh ships of the English came up, and the conflict continued to rage till eight in the evening. During this time Carter, who had been one of the most deeply pledged to James, but who had fought like a lion, fell mortally wounded; but, as he was carried down to his cabin, he cried to his men to fight the ship as long as she could swim. Tourville, who was now contending hopelessly against numbers, drew off, but was closely pursued, and the most terrible carnage was made of the men on board his great ship, the Royal Sun, the pride of
