minister of such vigilance was not to be lightly dispensed with. Fortune, however, rather than his own sagacity, had favoured the prime minister.
The anticipated absence of William from England in the spring appeared to offer a favourable conjuncture for James making another attempt for the recovery of his throne. The Jacobites, therefore, had met and concluded to send three of their number to St. Germains to consult with the court there on the best means of effecting this object. It was proposed that James should make great protestations of his determination to allow of and secure the political and religious rights of all his subjects, and that he should come attended only by so moderate a force that it should not look like a French invasion. The opinions of the leading Jacobites were to be conveyed by these messengers in a packet of letters to be carefully concealed; and amongst the writers of these letters were the earl of Dartmouth, viscount Preston—so-called—and the earl of Clarendon. This weak man, whom William had warned through Rochester of his knowledge of his practices, and who had declared that he would never again meddle with treason, was here as busy as ever. A vessel was engaged, called "The James and Elizabeth," to carry over the three agents, namely, Preston, Ashton, and Elliot, who were to come on board on the last night of the year. The skipper of the James and Elizabeth, though offered extraordinary pay for the trip, suspecting what was the nature of his passengers, gave notice of the fact to Caermarthen, who sent and boarded the vessel at midnight, when the traitors were all aboard, secured them and their papers, and conveyed them to the secretary of state's office at Whitehall, where Caermarthen and Nottingham passed the night in examining the contents of the fatal packet, and the next morning laid them before the king.
CHAPTER II.
REIGN OF WILLIAM AND MARY—(Continued.)
This great discovery, which fell like a thunderbolt on the Jacobites, was scarcely less disconcerting to the whigs. It was hopeless after this to attempt anything against so alert and trusty a minister. William, relieved from all apprehensions of danger by this timely discovery, left the three traitors in the custody of his government, and the leaders yet at large under their eye, and hastened to get over to Holland. On the 5th of January he prorogued parliament till the 31st of March; and in his farewell speech he said that he thought it proper to assure them that he should make no grants of the forfeited lands in England or Ireland; that those matters could be settled in parliament in such a manner as should be thought most expedient. Unfortunately, this was a promise which William failed to keep, and which brought upon him no lack of trouble in the future. On the 6th, whilst his English subjects were indulging in all the festivities of the season, William set out, attended by a splendid train of courtiers, for the Hague, where a great congress was appointed to consider the best means of resisting the aggressions of Louis of France.
But the weather intercepted his progress. A terrible frost set in, attended by fierce and contrary gales, and he was compelled to return from Canterbury to Kensington, where he remained till the 16th, when he again set out amid frost and snow. He knew that a great throng of the allies were assembling at the Hague to determine the plan of future action against the common enemy, and it was not in his nature to be absent from his post, which was the great central one. On the 18th he embarked at Gravesend, with his train, on board seven yachts, attended by twelve men-of-war, commanded by Sir Cloudesley Shovel and admiral Rooke. Amongst his most distinguished attendants were the dukes of Ormond and Norfolk, the earls of Devonshire—now lord steward of the household—of Dorset, Monmouth, and Portland, as well as his two other Dutch followers, Zuleystein and Auverquerque. The weather was so bad that the fleet did not make the coast of Holland till the 23rd, and found it so ice-bound that the yachts could not approach it. William, who always suffered extremely from sea-sickness, and was most impatient to reach the congress, got into an open boat with some of his attendants. The ocean was at once so rough and winterly, that not only did his nobles endeavour to dissuade him from proceeding, but the sailors themselves pronounced the attempt impracticable. But nothing moved William. To a sailor who appeared particularly averse to put off, he said, "For shame! Are you afraid to die in my company?"
The boat left the side of the ship, the waves dashing over the king and his aristocratic companions. They came near a fisherman, who, in answer to their inquiries, told them they were about a league only from Goree. This was cheering; but thick fogs came down; they lost their course; and, instead of finding land, they were beating about all night on the open sea in that intense cold. As morning dawned they perceived the shore, and the little town of Honslacrdyk; and, half dead with cold, they made their way to land over the ice. There they discharged a gun, and made a fire to warm them, which soon brought crowds of people to the shore. On the discovery of the king of England, the populace broke into transports of enthusiasm. The firing of guns, and blazing of fires, and roar of acclamations, spread the news of the long-expected arrival of the stadtholder.
William and his lords were glad to warm and refresh themselves for some hours in the hut of a fisherman. From that place to the Hague the whole way was one living throng of shouting, exulting people. The Dutch, who had murmured at their stadtholder's long absence, and complained that he had forgot their interests in those of his new subjects, now forgot everything but that he was their own countryman, the man who had most successfully defended them from encroaching France, who had made himself master of England and Ireland, and was now only the more the grand pillar of their
