fleet, while the English had not more than twenty-eight in a situation for fighting. This obliged Albemarle to retreat towards the English coast, which he did with an undaunted countenance, protesting to the earl of Ossory, son to the duke of Ormond, that he would rather blow up his ship and perish than strike to the enemy. The Dutch had come up with the English, and were about to renew the engagement, when the squadron of prince Rupert was descried, crowding all their sail to reach the scene of action. Next morning the battle began afresh, and continued with great violence till suspended by a mist. The English retired first into their own barbours.

De Ruyter now posted himself at the mouth of the Thames; but the English, under prince Rupert and Albemarle, were not long in coming to attack him. This engagement was again fierce and obstinate, and three Dutch admirals fell; but De Ruyter maintained the combat, and kept his station, till darkness put an end to the contest. Next day, finding the Dutch fleet scattered, he was obliged to submit to a retreat, which yet he conducted with so much skill as to render it equally honourable to himself as the greatest victory. Full of indignation, however, at yielding the superiority to the English, he frequently exclaimed, "My God! what a wretch I am! among so many thousand bullets, is there not one to put an end to my miserable life?" The Dutch, by the greatest exertions, saved themselves in their harbours; and the English now rode incontestable masters of the sea.

A calamity, however, happened in London, which occasioned the greatest consternation. A most dreadful fire broke out in the city, and spreading in spite of every endeavour to check its destructive progress, consumed about four hundred streets and thirteen thousand houses. During three days and nights the fire continued to advance; and it was at last extinguished only by the blowing up of houses. Popular prejudice ascribed this calamity to the catholics; and though no proof ever appeared to authorize such a calumny, it is sanctioned by the inscription on the monument, which records the conflagration.

As the Dutch were every day becoming more formida ble, Charles began to be sensible, that all the ends for which the war had been undertaken were likely to prove abortive. This induced him to make the first advances towards

an accommodation, and matters were in a state of forwardness, when the king, by imprudently discontinuing his preparations, exposed England to a great affront and even to great danger.

The penetrating mind of De Witt discovered the opportunity for retrieving the honour of the States; and he embraced it. The Dutch fleet, under De Ruyter, appeared in the Thames, and bursting the chain which had been drawn across the Medway, advanced as far as Upnore castle, and burnt several ships. They next sailed to Portsmouth and Plymouth, and insulted Harwich. The whole coast was in alarm; and had the French joined the Dutch fleet and invaded England, the most serious consequences might have ensued. The signing of the treaty of Breda, however, saved England from this danger; and the acquisition of New-York was the principal advantage which the English reaped from a war, in which the national character for bravery had appeared with so much lastre.

To appease the people for their disappointments, some sacrifice was necessary; and the prejudices of the nation pointed out the victim. The sale of Dunkirk, the disgrace at Chatham, and the unsuccessful conclusion of the war, were all attributed to Clarendon. The king himself, who had always revered rather than loved the chancellor, was glad to be freed from a minister who, amidst the dissolute manners of the court, maintained an inflexible dignity, and would not suffer his master's licentious pleasures to pass without reprehension. The memory of his former services could not delay his fall; and the great seal was taken from him, and given to sir Orlando Bridgman.

The duke of York in vain exerted his interest in behalf of his father-in-law. The commons voted an impeachment against him; and Clarendon, finding that neither his innocence nor his past services were sufficient to protect him, retired into France, where he lived six years after the parliament had decreed his banishment. He employed his leisure chiefly in reducing to order the history of the civil war, for which he had before collected materials, and which is a performance that does honour to his memory. The king's councils, which had always been negligent and Auctuating, now became actually crimi- AD. 1670. nal. Men, in whose honour and integrity the nation confided, were excluded from any deliberations; and

the whole secret of goverment was intrusted to five persons, Clifford, Ashley, Buckingham, Arlington, and Lauderdale, called the CABAL, a word which the initial letters of their names happened to compose.

The dark counsels of the cabal, though from the first they gave anxiety to all men of reflection, were not sufficiently known but by the event. They inspired the king with a jealousy of parliaments, and advised him to recover that authority in the nation, which his predecessors, during so many ages, had possessed; and they insinuated to Charles, that it would be for his interest, to detach himself from the triple alliance, not long before concluded between England, Holland and Sweden, and form a close intimacy with France. It was, however, by the artifices of his sister, the dutchess of Orleans, that the king was prevailed on to relinquish the most settled maxims of honour and policy, and to finish his engagements with the French monarch as well for the destruction of Holland, as for a subsequent change of religion in England.

About this time, Blood, a disbanded officer of the protector's, who had been attainted for engaging in a conspiracy in Ireland, meditated revenge on the duke of Ormond, the lord-lieutenant. He seized the duke in the streets of London, but Ormond was saved by his servants. Buckingham was at first suspected of being the author of this attempt; and the marquis of Ossory coming to court, and seeing Buckingham near the king, said to him, "My lord, I know well that you are at the bottom of the late attempt upon my father; but, I give you warning, that if by any means he come to a violent end, I shall consider you as the assassin, and wherever I meet you, I will pistol you, though you stood behind the king's chair: and I tell you this in his majesty's presence, that you may be sure I will not fail in the performance."

Soon after, Blood formed the design of carrying off the crown and regalia from the tower, and was very near suc ceeding in this enterprise. Being secured, however, and examined, he refused to name his accomplices. The fear of death," he said, "shall never force me either to deny a guilt, or betray a friend." The king was moved by an idle curiosity to see a person so remarkable for his courage and his crimes. Blood now considered himself

sure of pardon; and he told Charles, that he had been engaged with others to shoot him, but that his heart had been checked with the awe of majesty at the moment of execution. He added, that his associates had bound themselves by the strictest oaths to revenge the death of any one of the confederacy. Whether the king was influenced by fear or admiration, he pardoned the villain, and granted him an estate of five hundred pounds a-year in Ireland; while old Edwards, the keeper of the jewel-office, who had been wounded in defending the crown and regalia, was forgotten and neglected.

Under pretence of maintaining the triple league, which at that very time he had resolved to break, Charles obtained a large supply from the commons. This, however, was soon exhausted by debts and expenses; and, as it seemed dangerous to venture on levying money, without consent of parliament, the king declared that the staff of treasurer was ready for any one who could devise the means of supplying his present necessities. Ashley dropped a hint to Clifford, which the latter adopted, and carried to the king, who granted him the promised reward, and also a peerage, for what ought to have brought him to the gallows. This expedient was the shutting up of the exchequer, and retaining all the payments which should be made into it.*

A. D.

This breach of domestic honour was followed by foreign transactions of a similar complexion. On the most false and frivolous pretexts, Charles issued a de- 1672. claration of war against the Dutch; and this was seconded by another from Louis XIV. To oppose this

* It may be necessary to observe, that bankers used to carry their money to the exchequer, and advance it upon the security of the funds, by which they were afterwards reimbursed, when the money was levied on the public. The bankers, by this traffic, got eight per cent. or more, for sums which had either been assigned to them without interest, or which they had borrowed at six per cent.; profits which they dearly paid for, by this egregious breach of public faith. The measure was so suddenly taken, that none had warning of the danger. A general confusion prevailed in the city, followed by the ruin of many. Distress every where took place, with a stagnation of commerce, by which the public was universally affected; and men, full of the most dismal apprehensions, were at a loss to account for such unprecedented and iniquitous counsels, by which the public credit was destroyed.

formidable confederacy, De Witt exerted himself in the vtmost; but his merits had begotten envy, and the popular affection began to display itself in favour of William III. prince of Orange, then in the twenty-second year of his age, whom De Witt himself had instructed in all the principles of government and sound policy, and who was brought forward as his rival.

The struggle between the two factions retarded every measure. However, at length, a raw army of seventy thousand men was raised, and the prince was appointed both general and admiral of the commonwealth; but his partisans were still unsatisfied, as long as the perpetual cdict remained in force, by which he was excluded from tha stadtholderate.

Devoted solely to the interests of his country, De Witt disdained all party-spirit, and hastened the equipment of a fleet, which put to sea under the command of De Ruyter, who was strongly attached to him. This armament consisted of ninety-one ships of war, and forty-four fire-ships; and with these De Ruyter surprised at Solebay the combined fleets of France and England. The earl of Sandwich had warned the duke of York of his danger, and received only for answer, that there was more of caution than of courage in his apprehensions; but on the appearance of the enemy, he alone, with his squadron, was prepared for action. Sandwich commanded the van, and rushed into battle with the Dutch. He beat off one ship, and sunk another. He also destroyed three fire-ships, which endeavoured to grapple with him ; and though his own vessel was torn almost in pieces with shot, and nearly six hundred out of a thousand men lay dead on the deck, he still continued the contest. Another fire-ship, however, having laid hold of his vessel, her destruction was now inevitable, and he was advised by his captain to retire ; but he preferred death to the appearance of deserting his post.

During this fierce engagement with Sandwich, De Ruyter attacked the duke of York, who fought with such fury for above two hours, that of thirty-two actions, in which the Dutch admiral had been engaged, he declared this was the most severe. The battle continued till night, when