CHAPTER X.
THE WHITE HORSE CELLAR.
To eat cran, pertick, swan, and pliver,
And everie fisch that swyms in river;
To drink with us the newe fresch wyne,
That grew vpon the River Ryne;
Fresch fragrant Clarets of France,
Of Angiers, and of Orliance,
With comforts of grit daintie.
DUMBAR TO JAMES V.
It was now the autumn of 1688.
The evil genius of James VII., and the influence of his advisers, were fast hastening him and his House to destruction. His measures for the re-establishment of the Catholic faith, in all its pristine power and ancient grandeur, exasperated the whole nation, and the Episcopalians in the south, and the sourer Presbyterians in the north, joined in one united voice against him.
Many powerful nobles of both kingdoms were in exile. With these, and with the intermeddling Prince of Orange, a close correspondence was maintained by the friends of the intended Revolution. Even the Scottish and English forces, on whose valour and fidelity the unhappy King too much relied, were foes to his religion; and certain obnoxious measures, in his military administration, tended to alienate from his cause all but the most romantic and devoted of his subjects.
It was evident that a great crisis was at hand. The King, in the month of September, sent an express to the Privy Council, requiring them to place the country on the war establishment. The standing army was increased, the militia embodied, the garrisons put in a state of defence, the Highland clans, ever loyal and ever true, were ordered to assemble in arms, and beacons were erected on Arthur's Seat and other mountains, to alarm the country. Similar preparations to repel William of Orange were made by the English government, whose forces, thirty thousand strong, under the Earl of Feversham, were concentrated about London. But James's measures in the south ruined his influence everywhere, and the cheers of the English troops, on the acquittal of the Bishops being known in the camp at Hounslow, proved that he had lost their sympathy for ever, and could rely on their support no more.
The regular forces of Scotland were cantoned in and around the capital, ready at an hour's notice to march for England, a measure which was vigorously and wisely opposed in council by Colin, Earl of Balcarris, the Lord High Treasurer. Malcontents were secretly flocking to Edinburgh from all quarters; and Master Magnus Prince, the sycophantic Provost, with his bench of baillies, sent a dutiful letter to James VII., assuring him "of their most hearty devotion to his service, and being ready with their lives and fortunes to stand by his sacred person upon all occasions, and praying for the continuation of his princely goodness and love towards his ancient city."
The presbyterians conducted themselves with more than their ordinary boldness, and in the streets openly chanted Psalms and Lillibulero bullen a la; the Government and its friends were full of anxiety, and remained on the alert. The whigs spoke boldly, and the cavaliers with somewhat less confidence, of the great preparations of the Dutch for the invasion of Great Britain—of the frigates, fireships, transports, horse, foot, and artillery assembled at Nimguen, and of the Scottish and English noblesse who in exile crowded beneath the unfurled banner of the Stadtholder. Thus,
"While great events were on the gale,
And each hour brought a varying tale;"