sorder. Feversham had no sooner heard of the
king's flight, than he disbanded the troops in the neighborhood, and
without either disarming or paying them, let them loose to prey upon the
country.

In this extremity, the bishops and peers who were in town, being the
only remaining authority of the state, (for the privy council, composed
of the king's creatures, was totally disregarded,) thought proper to
assemble, and to interpose for the preservation of the community. They
chose the marquis of Halifax speaker: they gave directions to the mayor
and aldermen for keeping the peace of the city: they issued orders,
which were readily obeyed, to the fleet, the army, and all the
garrisons: and they made applications to the prince of Orange, whose
enterprise they highly applauded, and whose success they joyfully
congratulated.

The prince on his part was not wanting to the tide of success which
flowed in upon him, nor backward in assuming that authority which the
present exigency had put into his hands. Besides the general popularity
attending his cause, a new incident made his approach to London still
more grateful. In the present trepidation of the people, a rumor arose,
either from chance or design, that the disbanded Irish had taken
arms, and had commenced a universal massacre of the Protestants. This
ridiculous belief was spread all over the kingdom in one day, and begat
every where the deepest consternation. The alarum bells were rung; the
beacons fired; men fancied that they saw at a distance the smoke of the
burning cities, and heard the groans of those who were slaughtered in
their neighborhood. It is surprising that the Catholics did not all
perish in the rage which naturally succeeds to such popular panics.

While every one, from principle, interest, or animosity, turned his back
on the unhappy king, who had abandoned his own cause, the unwelcome news
arrived, that he had been seized by the populace at Feversham, as he was
making his escape in disguise; that he had been much abused, till he was
known; but that the gentry had then interposed and protected him, though
they still refused to consent to his escape. This intelligence threw all
parties into confusion. The prince sent Zuylestein with orders that the
king should approach no nearer than Rochester; but the message came too
late. He was already arrived in London, where the populace, moved by
compassion for his unhappy fate, and actuated by their own levity, ha