ontinued
inseparably attached to Sedley's service; he again advised a retreat
into Wales, and being well acquainted with the country, they had the
good fortune to reach the principality before the enemy had secured the
passes, though that was one of their first measures, to prevent the
retreat of the King into a part of his dominions where he might be most
easily concealed, as well from the nature of the country as from the
loyal disposition of the inhabitants.

It was the design of De Vallance to repair to the isle of Man, and offer
his services to the Countess of Derby, who, it was reported, was able
and determined to retain that insulated spot, and establish it as the
asylum of persecuted loyalty. He journeyed through the most unfrequented
roads, trusting for his support to the hospitality of a brave,
unsophisticated race, who could hardly endure the nominal yoke of
regicides, and preserved the sanctuary of their domestic retreats
unpolluted by the presence of spies and informers. From these, his
occasional hosts, De Vallance learned many woeful particulars of the
miseries of the prisoners taken at Worcester, "who were driven like
cattle to London, many of them suffered to perish for want of food, or
from pestilential diseases arising from crowded prisons, and the
survivors sold for slaves to the plantations." Such was the freedom
these pseudo-friends of liberty afforded to those who dissented from
their opinions; and thus was loyalty (for no other crime was laid to
their charge) punished with a severity, which regular governments
scruple to use against the most atrocious offenders. Nor should these
tyrannous acts be ascribed so much to the rancorous nature of the
victors as to the natural tendency of power obtained by illegal violent
means. They who rise to greatness by insurrection, find themselves
compelled to renounce the principles and violate the promises to which
they owed their exaltation. The greatest tyrants have ever been those
who experimentally know that rigorous coercion is the only way of
restraining popular fury. Fear is the incentive and justifier of
cruelty. Man is rarely disposed gratuitously to torment his
fellow-creatures. The world has indeed produced Roman, Mahommedan, and
Indian, despots, who seemed to receive pleasure from the sufferings of
their victims, abstracted from every other consideration; but these
instances have been too rare to permit us to consider such an infernal
propensity as