magistrates of the city appeared again, after a long
interval, in the pomp of office. William could not be persuaded to
repose himself at the Castle, but in the evening returned to his camp,
and slept there in his wooden cabin, [708]

The fame of these great events flew fast, and excited strong emotions
all over Europe. The news of William's wound every where preceded by a
few hours the news of his victory. Paris was roused at dead of night by
the arrival of a courier who brought the joyful intelligence that the
heretic, the parricide, the mortal enemy of the greatness of France, had
been struck dead by a cannon ball in the sight of the two armies. The
commissaries of police ran about the city, knocked at the doors, and
called the people up to illuminate. In an hour streets, quays and
bridges were in a blaze: drums were beating and trumpets sounding: the
bells of Notre Dame were ringing; peals of cannon were resounding from
the batteries of the Bastile. Tables were set out in the streets; and
wine was served to all who passed. A Prince of Orange, made of straw,
was trailed through the mud, and at last committed to the flames. He was
attended by a hideous effigy of the devil, carrying a scroll, on which
was written, "I have been waiting for thee these two years." The shops
of several Huguenots who had been dragooned into calling themselves
Catholics, but were suspected of being still heretics at heart, were
sacked by the rabble. It was hardly safe to question the truth of
the report which had been so eagerly welcomed by the multitude. Soon,
however, some coolheaded people ventured to remark that the fact of the
tyrant's death was not quite so certain as might be wished. Then arose
a vehement controversy about the effect of such wounds; for the vulgar
notion was that no person struck by a cannon ball on the shoulder could
recover. The disputants appealed to medical authority; and the doors of
the great surgeons and physicians were thronged, it was jocosely said,
as if there had been a pestilence in Paris. The question was soon
settled by a letter from James, which announced his defeat and his
arrival at Brest, [709]

At Rome the news from Ireland produced a sensation of a very different
kind. There too the report of William's death was, during a short
time, credited. At the French embassy all was joy and triumph: but the
Ambassadors of the House of Austria were in despair; and the aspect of
the Pontifical Court by no me