hile
before it was able to leave the country, a hungry penniless army had
been thrown upon the citizens of Plymouth. An enormous debt had been
created in equipping it, and the soldiers' allowances were hopelessly
inadequate to provide them with a proper supply of food or clothes. 'A
more ragged, ribald, and rebellious herde never gathered on the eve of
an important expedition. Mutiny was common in the town, and the
ringleaders were tried at Drum-head, and shot in the nearest open
space.... Incensed at the disregard of their appeals, the publicans
thrust the soldiers to doors; and the outcasts, turning highwaymen,
stole cattle and sheep with impunity, slew the animals, and cooked the
joints "in the open eye of the world," and sullenly vowed that they
would have "meat rather than famish." The fleet returned some weeks
later in shame and disgrace, and the state of the men was even more
miserable than when they started, for now the plague was raging amongst
them. 'There was neither "meat nor drink available"; such provisions as
had been doled out were often unfit for food, and "men die after eating
them."' Pennington, the Vice-Admiral at Plymouth, sent petition after
petition to the authorities for necessary supplies. 'Send the money, or
it will break my heart, for I am so followed about and called upon that
I know not what to do.' The misery was long drawn out, for when the
plague was at an end, and townspeople were able to return to their
homes, there was but a short respite before they were again overwhelmed
by a great number of undisciplined soldiers, and 'no means of housing,
feeding, or clothing them.' Naturally, they helped themselves at the
expense of the citizens. 'Haunted by the cries of my soldiers,' Sir
Ferdinando Gorges, the Governor, was reduced to distributing among them
a cargo of oil that had been captured, with the assertion that it was
'as healthy as butter.'

'Most despair here,' wrote Lord Holland briefly, and 'the distress was
so acute that the Mayor raised the standard of revolt. The losses of the
town had been calamitous--first at the hands of pirates, next by
collapse of trade, and finally by the billeting.'

No doubt Plymouth's consistent hostility to the King's party throughout
the war is in part explained by the results of this wretched state of
affairs, and by the persecution of their Vice-Admiral, the heroic member
for St Germans, Sir John Eliot.

As soon as the war broke out, Plymouth's sym