for his life. His conscience—no, conscience he had none—but his base, craven soul told him what he deserved at the hands of the people; and, disguised in the dress of a common sailor, his huge, lowering eyebrows shaven off, he was skulking in a low public-house in Wapping, watching an opportunity to make his escape, when his former villainy sealed his doom. He was looking out of the window, when a scrivener of the place, who had once been before him on a charge of usury, and who was so terrified at his looks and language that he declared that face would haunt him to his dying day, was passing. One glance at the horrible countenance of Jeffreys was enough; the terrified man hastened away and roused the neighbourhood. In a few minutes the house was surrounded by a raging mob, who demanded that he should be given up to them. But Jeffreys had observed the recognition of the scrivener. The train bands were sent hastily for, and he was conveyed before the lord mayor amid the howls and execrations of the mob. The lord mayor himself was so terrified at the sight of the crouching chancellor and the raging sea of people around the mansion-house, that he was borne away in convulsions, and never again recovered. Meantime the concourse of infuriated people had been so immense and so terrible in its rage, that two regiments of militia were added to guard him to the Tower; and such was the howling fury of the mob, that Jeffreys, terrified almost to death, kept constantly crying to the officers around him, "Keep them off, gentlemen! for God's sake keep them off!" No more fitting retribution could have reached this man-monster—who had so recklessly spilled the blood of the subjects, violated all the laws at the will of a tyrant, and terrified every one who came before him by the diabolical fury of his looks and language—than that he should perish in his cell, of terror and shame, which he did soon after.
James, his heartless master, was also seized. The custom-house hoy in which he embarked was found wanting of ballast, and the captain was obliged to run her ashore near Sheerness. About eleven at night of the 12th of December, before the hoy could be floated again by the tide, she was boarded by a number of fishermen who were on the look-out for fugitives, and the appearance of the king immediately attracted their notice. "That is father Petre," cried one fellow; "I know him by his hatchet face." He was immediately seized and searched; but, though he had his coronation ring in his pocket, besides other jewels, they missed them, and did not recognise him. But they carried him ashore at Feversham, where, at the inn, amid the insults of this rabble, he declared himself their king. The earl of Winchester, hearing of the king's detention, hastened to his assistance, had him removed to the house of the mayor, and sent word of his capture to London.
James exhibited the most miserable spectacle. It was clear that his mind, which had appeared going before, was now quite gone. He had all the symptoms of a maniac. The house was surrounded by a dense crowd of militia and fishermen, and he insisted notwithstanding that those who were about him should let him go. At one moment he assumed an air of haughty command, at another he had recourse to the most piteous entreaties, telling the people that the prince of Orange was seeking his life, and they must get him a boat to escape; at the same time he wept bitterly and was inconsolable, because, in the rude search of the rabble, he had lost a bit of the true cross, which had belonged to Edward the Confessor.
When the countryman who carried the messages from lord Winchelsea arrived at Whitehall, the news of the king's detention occasioned the greatest embarrassment. The lords had sent for the prince, and hoped that they were well rid of the foolish old king. Nothing could be easier than their course if James had got over to the continent. The throne could be declared vacant, and the prince and princess of Orange invited to occupy it on giving the necessary guarantees for the maintenance of the constitution. But now the whole question was involved in difficulties. If James persisted in his right to the throne, in what capacity was William to be received? Could any safe measures be arranged with a man like James? Was he to be deposed, and his son-in-law and daughter forcibly placed on his throne? The dilemma was equally embarrassing to the lords and prelates, and to the prince himself. When the messenger was introduced, and delivered a letter from James, but without any address, Halifax moved that they should instantly adjourn, and thus leave the letter unnoticed. Halifax was deeply incensed at the trick which James had played off upon him in sending him to negotiate with William merely that he might get away, and was now resolved to adhere to the prince; but lord Mulgrave prevailed on the lords to retain their seats, and obtained from them an order that lord Feversham should take two hundred life guards and protect the king from insult. Feversham demanded the precise powers of his order, and was told that he must defend the king from insult, but by no means impede the freest exercise of his personal freedom. That meant that they would be glad if he facilitated his escape. Halifax immediately left London and joined the prince of Orange, who was now at Henley-on-Thames. Sancroft and the clergy, as soon as they were aware that the king had not left the country, retired from any further participation in the council. William and his adherents were extremely chagrined at this untoward turn of affairs. When the messenger arrived at Henley he was referred to Burnet, who said, "Why did you not let the king go?"
But when Feversham arrived at the town whose name he bore, the king was no longer disposed to escape. His friends who had gathered about him, Middleton and lord Winchelsea especially, had endeavoured to show him that his strength lay in remaining. Had he vacated the throne by quitting the kingdom, it had been lost for ever; but now he was king, and might challenge his right; and the prince could not dispossess him without incurring the character of a usurper, and throwing a heavy odium of unnatural severity on himself and his wife. James had sufficient mind left to perceive the strength thus pointed out to him. He resolved to return to his capital, and from Rochester dispatched Feversham with a letter to William, whom he found advanced to Windsor, proposing a conference in London, where St. James's should be prepared for the prince. By this time William and his council had determined on the plan to be pursued in the great difficulty. He had calculated on James's being gone, and had issued orders to the king's army and to the lords at Whitehall in the style of a sovereign. His
