ng anything which, if the King should prevail, could be treated as a
crime.

Exeter, in the meantime, was greatly agitated. Lamplugh, the bishop, as
soon as he heard that the Dutch were at Torbay, set off in terror for
London. The Dean fled from the deanery. The magistrates were for the
King, the body of the inhabitants for the Prince. Every thing was in
confusion when, on the morning of Thursday, the eighth of November, a
body of troops, under the command of Mordaunt, appeared before the city.
With Mordaunt came Burnet, to whom William had entrusted the duty of
protecting the clergy of the Cathedral from injury and insult. [511] The
Mayor and Aldermen had ordered the gates to be closed, but yielded on
the first summons. The deanery was prepared for the reception of
the Prince. On the following day, Friday the ninth, he arrived. The
magistrates had been pressed to receive him in state at the entrance of
the city, but had steadfastly refused. The pomp of that day, however,
could well spare them. Such a sight had never been seen in Devonshire.
Many went forth half a day's journey to meet the champion of their
religion. All the neighbouring villages poured forth their inhabitants.
A great crowd, consisting chiefly of young peasants, brandishing their
cudgels, had assembled on the top of Haldon Hill, whence the army,
marching from Chudleigh, first descried the rich valley of the Exe, and
the two massive towers rising from the cloud of smoke which overhung the
capital of the West. The road, all down the long descent, and through
the plain to the banks of the river, was lined, mile after mile, with
spectators. From the West Gate to the Cathedral Close, the pressing and
shouting on each side was such as reminded Londoners of the crowds on
the Lord Mayor's day. The houses were gaily decorated. Doors, windows,
balconies, and roofs were thronged with gazers. An eye accustomed to
the pomp of war would have found much to criticize in the spectacle.
For several toilsome marches in the rain, through roads where one who
travelled on foot sank at every step up to the ancles in clay, had not
improved the appearance either of the men or of their accoutrements.
But the people of Devonshire, altogether unused to the splendour of well
ordered camps, were overwhelmed with delight and awe. Descriptions of
the martial pageant were circulated all over the kingdom. They contained
much that was well fitted to gratify the vulgar appetite for the
m