y given the necessary orders. In
fact, several regiments of horse and dragoons had been sent northward
under the command of Ginkell, one of the bravest and ablest officers of
the Dutch army. [45]

Meanwhile the mutineers were hastening across the country which lies
between Cambridge and the Wash. Their road lay through a vast and
desolate fen, saturated with all the moisture of thirteen counties, and
overhung during the greater part of the year by a low grey mist, high
above which rose, visible many miles, the magnificent tower of Ely. In
that dreary region, covered by vast flights of wild fowl, a half savage
population, known by the name of the Breedlings, then led an amphibious
life, sometimes wading, and sometimes rowing, from one islet of firm
ground to another. [46] The roads were amongst the worst in the island,
and, as soon as rumour announced the approach of the rebels, were
studiously made worse by the country people. Bridges were broken down.
Trees were laid across the highways to obstruct the progress of the
cannon. Nevertheless the Scotch veterans not only pushed forward with
great speed, but succeeded in carrying their artillery with them. They
entered Lincolnshire, and were not far from Sleaford, when they learned
that Ginkell with an irresistible force was close on their track.
Victory and escape were equally out of the question. The bravest
warriors could not contend against fourfold odds. The most active
infantry could not outrun horsemen. Yet the leaders, probably despairing
of pardon, urged the men to try the chance of battle. In that region, a
spot almost surrounded by swamps and pools was without difficulty found.
Here the insurgents were drawn up; and the cannon were planted at the
only point which was thought not to be sufficiently protected by natural
defences. Ginkell ordered the attack to be made at a place which was
out of the range of the guns; and his dragoons dashed gallantly into the
water, though it was so deep that their horses were forced to swim. Then
the mutineers lost heart. They beat a parley, surrendered at discretion,
and were brought up to London under a strong guard. Their lives were
forfeit: for they had been guilty, not merely of mutiny, which was
then not a legal crime, but of levying war against the King. William,
however, with politic clemency, abstained from shedding the blood even
of the most culpable. A few of the ringleaders were brought to trial
at the next Bury assize