In the following year, fresh excitement from the same source arose. The monarch was wasting upon his pleasures a considerable portion of the money which parliament had voted for the defence of the kingdom. The national exchequer was empty, and the credit of the navy commissioners gone. No loans could be obtained, yet ready money was demanded by the laborers required in the dockyards, by the sailors who were wanted to man the vessels, and by the merchants from whose stores the fleet needed its provisions. Not a gun was mounted in Tilbury Fort, nor a ship of war was in the river ready to oppose the enemy, while crowds thronged about the Admiralty, demanding their pay, and justly upbraiding the government. The Dutch ships, under De Ruyter, entered the Thames, sailed up the Medway, and seized the Royal Charles, besides three first-rate English vessels. One can easily conceive the second panic which this event must have produced among the citizens; nor is it difficult to imagine the suspension of business, the general exchange of hasty inquiries in that hour of terror, and the flocking of the people to the river-side to learn tidings of the fleet. Though the Dutch ships, unable to do further mischief on that occasion, returned to join the rest of the naval force anchored off the Nore; yet the citizens could not be relieved from their anxiety by this circumstance, for they knew that the foe would remain hovering about their coasts, and they could not tell but that in some unlooked-for moment the invaders might approach the very walls of their city. Some weeks of painful apprehension followed, and twice again did the admiral threaten to remount the Thames. An engagement between the English squadron and a portion of the invading armament of Holland prevented the accomplishment of that design, and saved London for the present from further fear.