ult, he protested, was that he
had served the crown too well. Had he not given hostages to the royal
cause? Had he not broken down every bridge by which he could, in case of
a disaster, effect his retreat? Had he not gone all lengths in favour
of the dispensing power, sate in the High Commission, signed the warrant
for the commitment of the Bishops, appeared as a witness against them,
at the hazard of his life, amidst the hisses and curses of the thousands
who filled Westminster Hall? Had he not given the last proof of fidelity
by renouncing his religion, and publicly joining a Church which the
nation detested? What had he to hope from a change? What had he not to
dread? These arguments, though plausible, and though set off by the most
insinuating address, could not remove the impression which whispers and
reports arriving at once from a hundred different quarters had produced.
The King became daily colder and colder. Sunderland attempted to support
himself by the Queen's help, obtained an audience of Her Majesty, and
was actually in her apartment when Middleton entered, and, by the King's
orders, demanded the seals. That evening the fallen minister was for the
last time closeted with the Prince whom he had flattered and betrayed.
The interview was a strange one. Sunderland acted calumniated virtue to
perfection. He regretted not, he said, the Secretaryship of State or the
Presidency of the Council, if only he retained his sovereign's esteem.
"Do not, sir, do not make me the most unhappy gentleman in your
dominions, by refusing to declare that you acquit me of disloyalty." The
King hardly knew what to believe. There was no positive proof of guilt;
and the energy and pathos with which Sunderland lied might have imposed
on a keener understanding than that with which he had to deal. At the
French embassy his professions still found credit. There he declared
that he should remain a few days in London, and show himself at court.
He would then retire to his country seat at Althorpe, and try to repair
his dilapidated fortunes by economy. If a revolution should take place
he must fly to France. His ill requited loyalty had left him no other
place of refuge. [494]

The seals which had been taken from Sunderland were delivered to
Preston. The same Gazette which announced this change contained the
official intelligence of the disaster which had befallen the Dutch
fleet. [495] That disaster was serious, though far less serious than