In the meantime (1 May) Charles had issued his warrant to the lord mayor for levying 1,000 men—"part of 10,000 to be raised by our dear father’s gracious purpose, according to the advice of both his Houses of Parliament, in contemplation of the distress and necessity of our dear brother and sister."(293) He thought that if he could only gain a victory it would serve to draw a veil over his delinquencies. The City was to be assisted by the county of Middlesex in raising the men,(294) and an allowance was made for "coat and conduct money" for the soldiers at the rate of eightpence apiece per day for their journey to Plymouth, the place where they were to embark (£400), and four shillings a coat (£200), the pay of a captain being four shillings a day.(295) The mayor’s precept to the aldermen to raise the men enjoined them to search all inns, taverns, alehouses, "tabling-houses" and tobacco-houses, and to press, especially, all "tapsters, ostlers, chamberlains, vagrants, idle and suspected persons."(296) By August the condition of the troops at Plymouth was pitiable. No money was forthcoming for wages, and the soldiers were forced to forage for themselves in the neighbouring country. At last the fleet set sail (8 Oct., 1625). Its destination proved to be Cadiz, whither it was despatched in the hope of securing West Indian treasure on its way home. The expedition, however, turned out to be as complete a failure as that under Mansfeld in the previous year. (M117) The citizen soldiers returned to find their city almost deserted owing to the ravages of the plague. In July the sickness had been so great as to necessitate the adjournment of parliament to Oxford.(297) The colder weather, as winter approached, appears to have made but little difference. Dr. Donne, the Dean of St. Paul’s, estimated that in November there died a thousand a day in the city of London and within the circuit of a mile. "The citizens fled away as out of a house on fire," he writes,(298) they "stuffed their pockets with their best ware and threw themselves into the highways, and were not received so much as into barns, and perished so, some of them with more money about them than would have bought the village where they died." Donne himself removed to Chelsea, but the infection even there became so great that "it was no good manners to go to any other place," and Donne therefore did not go to court. As early as September the want and misery in the city was described as being the greatest that ever any man living knew: "No trading at all, the rich all gone, house-keepers and apprentices of manual trades begging in the streets, and that in such a lamentable manner as will make the strongest heart to yearn."(299) (M118)