To clear the way for the escape of the royal infant, Lord Dover was put in command at Portsmouth, and James sent orders to Lord Dartmouth to see that the child was safely conveyed to the French coast. In anticipation of the accomplishment of this object, he made every preparation for his own flight. He sent to Jeffreys to bring the Great Seal, and take up his quarters with it in the palace, lest by any means it should fall into the hands of the invader, and thus give an air of authority to his proceedings. But his escape was delayed by unpleasant news from Lord Dartmouth. The announcement of the calling of a Parliament, and of attempted agreement with the Prince of Orange, had spread exultation through the navy, and the officers had despatched an address of fervent thanks to James, when the arrival of the infant prince awoke a general suspicion that all was still hollow, and that James meant nothing but escape. The officers were in great agitation, and plainly pointed out to Dartmouth his heavy responsibility if he allowed the prince to quit the kingdom. Dartmouth, therefore, wrote James, declaring that he would risk his life for the support of the Crown, but that he dared not undertake to facilitate the escape of the Prince of Wales. This was confounding news, and James took instant measures for the return of his son to London, and for his escape by another means to France.

Meanwhile William was gradually advancing towards the capital, and, on the 6th of December, the king's Commissioners met him at Hungerford, where they found the Earls of Clarendon and Oxford already swelling the Court of the invader. They were received with much respect, and submitted their master's proposal that all matters in dispute should be referred to the Parliament for which the writs were ordered, and that, in the meantime, the Dutch army should not advance nearer than forty miles from London. The Whigs in William's Court were decidedly averse from reconciliation with James, whose implacable nature they knew; but William insisted on acceding to the terms, on condition that the royal forces should remove the same distance from the capital, and that the Tower of London and Tilbury Fort should be put into the keeping of the City authorities. If it were necessary for the king and prince to proceed to Westminster during the negotiations, they should go attended only by a small guard. Nothing could be fairer; but William knew well the character of his father-in-law, and felt assured that he would by some means shuffle out of the agreement, and throw the odium of failure on himself; and he was not deceived. Never had James so fair an opportunity of recovering his position and securing his throne, under constitutional restraints, for his life; but he was totally incapable of such wisdom and honesty.

On the very day that the royal Commissioners reached William's camp, James received the Prince of Wales back from Portsmouth, and prepared to send him off to France by another route. On the night of the 10th of December he sent the queen across the Thames in darkness and tempest, disguised as an Italian lady, and attended by two Italian women, one of whom was the child's nurse, and the other carried the boy in her arms. They were guarded by two French refugees of distinction—Antonine, Count of Lauzun, and his friend Saint Victor. They arrived safely at Gravesend, where a yacht awaited them, on board of which were Lord and Lady Powis. Saint Victor returned to inform James that they had got clear off, and in a few hours they were safely in Calais.

Scarcely did Saint Victor bring the cheering news of the auspicious sailing of the yacht, when the Commissioners arrived with the conditions that had been agreed on by William. Here was the guarantee for a speedy adjustment of all his difficulties; but the false and distorted-minded James only saw in the circumstance a wretched means of further deceit and contempt of his people and of all honourable negotiation. He pretended to be highly satisfied, summoned for the morrow a meeting of all the peers in town, and of the Lord Mayor and aldermen, and directed that they should deliberate freely and decide firmly for the good of the country. This done, he retired to rest, ordered Jeffreys to be with him early in the morning, said to Lord Mulgrave, as he bade him good night, that the news from William was most satisfactory, and, before morning, had secretly decamped, leaving his kingdom to take care of itself rather than condescend to a pacification with his son-in-law and his subjects, which should compel him to rule as a constitutional king.

But James was not satisfied with this contemptible conduct; he indulged himself before going with creating all the confusion that he could. Had the writs, which were preparing, been left for issue on the 15th of January, 1689, a new Parliament would be in existence, ready to settle the necessary measures for future Government; he therefore collected the writs and threw them into the fire with his own hands, and annulled a number which were already gone out, by an instrument for the purpose. He also left a letter for Lord Feversham, announcing his departure from the kingdom, and desiring him no longer to expose the lives of himself and his soldiers "by resistance to a foreign army and a poisoned nation;" then, taking the Great Seal in his hand, he bade the Earl of Northumberland, who was the Lord of the Bedchamber on duty, and lay on a pallet bed in the king's room, not to unlock the door till the usual hour in the morning, and then, disguised as a country gentleman, disappeared down the back stairs. He was waited for by Sir Edward Hales, whom he afterwards created Earl of Tenterden, and they proceeded in a hackney-coach to Millbank, where they crossed the river in a boat to Vauxhall. When in mid-stream, he flung the Great Seal into the water, trusting that it would never be seen any more; but it was afterwards dragged up by a fishing-net. James, attended by Hales and Sheldon, one of the royal equerries, drove at a rapid pace for Elmley Ferry, near the Isle of Sheppey, having relays of horse ready engaged. They reached that place at ten in the morning, and got on board the Custom House hoy which was waiting for them, and dropped down the river.

JAMES HEARING OF THE LANDING OF WILLIAM OF ORANGE. (After the Painting by E. M. Ward, R.A.)

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In the morning, when the Duke of Northumberland opened the king's chamber door, and it was discovered that James had fled, the consternation in the palace may be imagined. The courtiers and the numbers of persons who were waiting to fulfil their morning duties, and the lords who had been summoned to council, spread the exciting tidings, and the capital became a scene of the wildest and most alarming confusion. Feversham obeyed the orders of the king left in his letter, without pausing to ask any advice, or to calculate what might be the consequences. These were as serious as might have been expected. There was no Government, no constituted authority to appeal to. Lord Rochester had continued loyal to the last; but the base desertion of James and the imminent danger at once decided him. He bade the Duke of Northumberland muster the Guards, and declare for William. The officers of the other regiments in London followed the advice, and endeavoured to keep together their men, declaring for the Prince of Orange. The lords who had been summoned to Council hastened into the City to concert measures with the Lord Mayor and aldermen for the public safety. A meeting was hastily called in Guildhall, where the peers, twenty-five in number, and five bishops, with Sancroft and the new Archbishop of York at their head, formed themselves into a provisional council to exercise the functions of Government till the Prince of Orange should arrive, for whom they sent a pressing message, praying him to hasten and unite with them for the preservation of the Constitution and the security of the Church. The two Secretaries of State were sent for, but Preston alone came; Middleton denied the authority of the self-created Council. The Lieutenant of the Tower, Bevil Skelton, was ordered to give up the keys to Lord Lucas, and an order was sent to Lord Dartmouth, desiring him to dismiss all Popish officers from the fleet, and attempt nothing against the Dutch fleet. But no measures could prevent the outbreak of the mob in London. The feeling against the Catholics displayed itself on all sides. Under pretence of searching for Papists, the hordes of blackguards from every low purlieu of London swarmed forth and broke into houses, and plundered them at their pleasure. The vile Jeffreys was with difficulty saved from the fury of the mob.

James, his heartless master, was also seized. The Custom House hoy in which he embarked was found wanting in ballast, and the captain was obliged to run her ashore near Sheerness. About eleven at night on the 12th of December, before the hoy could be floated again by the tide, she was boarded by a number of fishermen who were on the look-out for fugitives, and the appearance of the king immediately attracted their notice. "That is Father Petre," cried one fellow; "I know him by his hatchet face." James was immediately seized and searched; but, though he had his coronation ring in his pocket, besides other jewels, they missed them, and did not recognise him. They carried him ashore at Feversham, where, at the inn, amid the insults of this rabble, he declared himself their king. The Earl of Winchelsea, hearing of the king's detention, hastened to his assistance, had him removed to the house of the Mayor, and sent word of his capture to London.