Why he did not escape to France; whether his nerve failed him; whether there was no time; whether there was no one he could trust, one knows not. It is, however, certain that he was suffering from a cruel disease, which caused him the greatest agonies and was partly the cause of that roaring voice, those bullying tones, which made him the terror of the Court and aggravated the agonies of punishment. I think it not impossible that a severe attack of this disease prevented him from moving till it was too late; he then assumed the disguise of a sailor and took refuge in a humble tavern at Wapping. Here, however, he was recognised as he looked out of a window, and was dragged out and committed to prison, having been so roughly handled by the mob that he died of the injuries he received. According to another account, however, he drank to excess, and so killed himself. As for the King, he was permitted to escape, the Prince of Orange doubtless feeling that though he did not hesitate about taking his father-in-law’s place, he did not desire his head. [Illustration: _The Lord Chancellor taken disguised in Wapping_ — _Engraved for the Devils Broker_ — THE ARREST OF JEFFREYS From a satirical print in the British Museum.] And so James vanished from the scene and a new king reigned. But neither in the reign of William nor in that of any following sovereign were there so many splendid sights and anxious moments as in that of the unfortunate king whom we have learned to despise more profoundly than any other sovereign who ever sat upon the sacred Coronation chair. The events connecting London with the reign of James II. belong for the most part to the history of the country. I have not thought it necessary, therefore, to dwell at length upon them. The following, on the condition of London after the abdication, is an extract from the _English Courant and London Mercury_. It is quoted by Malcolm (_Manners and Customs_, 1811):—