59]

He was soon informed that his fate was in his own hands. The government
was willing to spare him if he would earn his pardon by a full
confession. The struggle in his mind was terrible and doubtful. At one
time Mrs. Clifford, who had access to his cell, reported to the Jacobite
chiefs that he was in a great agony. He could not die, he said; he was
too young to be a martyr, [660] The next morning she found him cheerful
and resolute, [661] He held out till the eve of the day fixed for his
execution. Then he sent to ask for an interview with the Secretary of
State. Nottingham went to Newgate; but, before he arrived, Crone
had changed his mind and was determined to say nothing. "Then," said
Nottingham, "I shall see you no more--for tomorrow will assuredly be
your last day." But, after Nottingham had departed, Monmouth repaired
to the gaol, and flattered himself that he had shaken the prisoner's
resolution. At a very late hour that night came a respite for a week,
[662] The week however passed away without any disclosure; the gallows
and quartering block were ready at Tyburn; the sledge and axe were at
the door of Newgate; the crowd was thick all up Holborn Hill and along
the Oxford Road; when a messenger brought another respite, and Crone,
instead of being dragged to the place of execution, was conducted to the
Council chamber at Whitehall. His fortitude had been at last overcome
by the near prospect of death; and on this occasion he gave important
information, [663]

Such information as he had it in his power to give was indeed at that
moment much needed. Both an invasion and an insurrection were hourly
expected, [664] Scarcely had William set out from London when a great
French fleet commanded by the Count of Tourville left the port of Brest
and entered the British Channel. Tourville was the ablest maritime
commander that his country then possessed. He had studied every part
of his profession. It was said of him that he was competent to fill any
place on shipboard from that of carpenter up to that of admiral. It was
said of him, also, that to the dauntless courage of a seaman he united
the suavity and urbanity of an accomplished gentleman, [665] He now
stood over to the English shore, and approached it so near that his
ships could be plainly descried from the ramparts of Plymouth.
From Plymouth he proceeded slowly along the coast of Devonshire and
Dorsetshire. There was great reason to apprehend that his movements h