But meanwhile all secresy had been lost. The Queen in England, and William in Holland, had put forth all their energy, and a combined Dutch and English fleet of 90 ships was in the Channel under command of Russell. At last one French squadron, that of Tourville, consisting of 44 ships, made its appearance. It was supposed that, weak as it was, it was sufficient for all necessary purposes; it could probably beat the Dutch contingent, and the English fleet was of no account, for neither Russell nor his men were likely to fight. Relying on this false belief, Louis issued peremptory orders to his admiral to cover the invasion, and fight the enemy wherever he met them. But James's folly had already gone far to thwart any hopes based upon the temper of the English. He had issued a Declaration, the work of his counsellor Melfort, excepting from all hope of pardon, not only a long list of gentlemen by name, but whole classes of Englishmen, all judges, jurymen, and lawyers who had been employed in any of the prosecutions of Jacobites, all magistrates who did not instantly (regardless of where they might be) make common cause with him upon his appearance, all spies and informers who had divulged his secrets, even the insignificant fishermen of Sheerness who had hindered him on his first attempt to escape from England. So ridiculous, so ill-judged was the Declaration, that, far from suppressing it, the English Council reprinted it, and distributed it largely, with a few pungent criticisms of their own. Even Jacobites had to confess that at least 500 men were excepted. It is easy to conceive the effect of such a Declaration, when contrasted with William's noble Act of Grace of the preceding year. What James's folly had thus half done the Queen's sagacity completed. Urged on all sides to apprehend known Jacobites, with the denunciations of a plot, perfectly fictitious indeed, but none the less very plausible, the creation of a rascal of the name of Young, just placed in her hands, and fully conscious of the intrigues of Russell her admiral, she wrote a noble letter, expressing her trust and reliance on the patriotism of her fleet, and sent it to Russell, with orders to read it to the captains of his fleet. Russell, at heart a Whig and a devoted lover of his profession, hesitated no longer. He would fight, he said, though King James himself were in the hostile fleet. He went from ship to ship, encouraging the crews, and when Tourville bore down upon him there was no sign of faint-heartedness in the English fleet. Overpowered by numbers, the French fleet fled, broke into fragments, and was destroyed piecemeal. But twelve of the largest ships, with Tourville himself, took refuge under the Forts of La Hogue, under the eyes of James and Marshal Bellefonds, commander of the army. There, as they lay in two divisions in shallow water, they were attacked on two successive days by a flotilla of English boats, under Admiral Rooke; and