or in
discipline to that of William, was superior in numbers.

The Prince was undoubtedly surprised and mortified by the slackness
of those who had invited him to England. By the common people of
Devonshire, indeed, he had been received with every sign of good will:
but no nobleman, no gentleman of high consideration, had yet repaired
to his quarters. The explanation of this singular fact is probably to
be found in the circumstance that he had landed in a part of the island
where he had not been expected. His friends in the north had made their
arrangements for a rising, on the supposition that he would be among
them with an army. His friends in the west had made no arrangements
at all, and were naturally disconcerted at finding themselves suddenly
called upon to take the lead in a movement so important and perilous.
They had also fresh in their recollection, and indeed full in their
sight, the disastrous consequences of rebellion, gibbets, heads, mangled
quarters, families still in deep mourning for brave sufferers who had
loved their country well but not wisely. After a warning so terrible and
so recent, some hesitation was natural. It was equally natural, however,
that William, who, trusting to promises from England, had put to
hazard, not only his own fame and fortunes, but also the prosperity and
independence of his native land, should feel deeply mortified. He
was, indeed, so indignant, that he talked of falling back to Torbay,
reembarking his troops, returning to Holland, and leaving those who had
betrayed him to the fate which they deserved. At length, on Monday, the
twelfth of November, a gentleman named Burrington, who resided in the
neighbourhood of Crediton, joined the Prince's standard, and his example
was followed by several of his neighbours.

Men of higher consequence had already set out from different parts
of the country for Exeter. The first of these was John Lord Lovelace,
distinguished by his taste, by his magnificence, and by the audacious
and intemperate vehemence of his Whiggism. He had been five or six times
arrested for political offences. The last crime laid to his charge was,
that he had contemptuously denied the validity of a warrant, signed by
a Roman Catholic Justice of the Peace. He had been brought before
the Privy Council and strictly examined, but to little purpose. He
resolutely refused to criminate himself; and the evidence against
him was insufficient. He was dismissed; but, before