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Royalty Restored or London under Charles II
Chapter XVII
by Molloy, J. Fitzgerald
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The threatened storm bursts.--History of Titus Oates and Dr.
Tonge.--A dark scheme concocted.--The king is warned of danger.
--The narrative of a horrid plot laid before the treasurer.--
Forged letters.--Titus Oates before the council.--His blunders.--
A mysterious murder.--Terror of the citizens.--Lord Shaftesbury's
schemes.--Papists are banished from the capital.--Catholic peers
committed to the Tower.--Oates is encouraged.
The marriage of the Lady Mary, though agreeable to the public
mind, by no means served to distract it from the turmoil by which
it was beset. Hatred of catholicism, fear of the Duke of York,
and distrust of the king, disturbed the nation to its core.
Rumours were now noised abroad, which were not without
foundation, that the monarch and his brother had renewed the
treaty with France, by which Louis engaged to send troops into
England to support Charles, when the latter saw fit to lay aside
duplicity, and proclaim himself a catholic. And, notwithstanding
the rigorous Test Acts, it was believed many high positions at
court were held by those who were papists at heart. Occasion was
therefore ripe for the invention of a monstrous fraud, the
history of which has been transmitted under the title of the
Popish Plot.
The chief contrivers of this imposture were Titus Oates and Dr.
Tonge. The first of these was son of a ribbon-weaver, who,
catching the fanatical spirit of the Cromwellian period, had
ranted as an Anabaptist preacher. Dissent, however, losing
favour under the restoration, Oates, floating with the current of
the times, resolved to become a clergyman of the Church of
England, He therefore took orders at Cambridge, officiated as
curate in various parishes, and served as chaplain on board a
man-of-war. The time he laboured as spiritual shepherd to his
respective flocks was necessarily brief; for his grossly immoral
practices becoming notable, he was in every case ousted from his
charge. The odium attached to his name was moreover increased by
the fact, that his evidence in two cases of malicious prosecution
had been proved false; for which he had been tried as a perjurer.
Deprived of his chaplaincy for a revolting act of profligacy,
driven from congregations he had scandalized, homeless and
destitute, he in an evil hour betook himself to Dr. Ezrael Tonge,
to whom he had long been known, and besought compassion and
relief.
The Rev, Dr. Tonge, rector of St. Michael's, Wood Street, was a
confirmed fanatic and political alarmist. For some years
previous to this time, he had published quarterly treatises
dealing with such wicked designs of the Jesuits as his heated
brain devised. These he had printed and freely circulated, in
order, as he acknowledged, "to arouse and awaken his majesty and
the parliament" to a sense of danger. He had begun life as a
gardener, but left that honest occupation that he might cultivate
flowers of rhetoric for the benefit of Cromwell's soldiers. Like
Titus Oates, he had become suddenly converted to orthodox
principles on return of the king, and had, through interest,
obtained the rectorship of St. Michael's. Bishop Burnet
considered him "a very mean divine, (who) seemed credulous and
simple, and was full of projects and notions."
Another historian who lived in those days, the Rev. Laurence
Eachard, Archdeacon of Stowe, states Dr. Tonge was "a man of
letters, and had a prolific head filled with all the Romish plots
and conspiracies since the reformation." According to this
author, Tonge took Oates into his house, provided him with
lodging, diet, and clothes; and when the latter complained he
knew not where to get bread, the rector told him "he would put
him in a way." After this, finding Oates a man of great
ingenuity and cunning, "he persuaded him," says Archdeacon
Eachard, "to insinuate himself among the papists, and get
particular acquaintance with them; which being effected, he let
him understand that there had been several plots in England to
bring in popery, and that if he would go beyond sea among the
Jesuits, and strictly observe their ways, it was possible there
might be one at present; and if he could make that out, it would
be his preferment for ever; but, however, if he could get their
names, and some information from the papists, it would be very
easy to rouse people with the fears of popery."
Hungering for gold, and thirsting for notoriety, Oates quickly
agreed to the scheme laid before him. Accordingly he became
acquainted with, and was received into the Catholic Church by,
Father Berry, a Jesuit, and in May, 1677, was sent by the Jesuits
to study in one of their seminaries, situated in Valladolid, in
Spain. Oates, however, though he had proved himself an excellent
actor, could not overcome his evil propensities, and before seven
months had passed, he was expelled from the monastery.
Returning to England, he sought out Dr. Tonge, to whom he was
unable to recount the secret of a single plot. Confident,
however, that wicked schemes against the lives and properties of
innocent protestants were being concocted by wily Jesuits, the
fanatical divine urged Oates to present himself once more before
them, bewail his misconduct, promise amendment, and seek
readmission to their midst. Following his advice, Oates was
again received by the Jesuits, and sent to their famous seminary
at St. Omer's; where, though he had reached the age of thirty
years, he was entered among the junior students. For six months
he remained here, until his vices becoming noted, he was turned
away in disgrace. Again he presented himself before the rector
of St. Michael's, knowing as little of popish plots as he did on
his previous return. But Tonge, though disappointed, was not
disheartened; if no scheme existed, he would invent one which
should startle the public, and save the nation. Such proposals
as he made towards the accomplishment of this end were readily
assented to by Oates, in whose breast wounded pride and bitter
hate rankled deep. Therefore, after many consultations they
resolved to draw up a "Narrative of a Horrid Plot." This was
repeatedly changed and enlarged, until eventually it assumed the
definite shape of a deposition, consisting of forty-three
distinct articles, written with great formality and care, and
embodying many shocking and criminal charges.
The narrative declared that in April, 1677, the deponent was
employed to carry letters from the Jesuits in London to members
of their order in Spain; these he broke open on the journey, and
discovered that certain Jesuits had been sent into Scotland to
encourage the presbyterians to rebel. Arrived in Valladolid, he
heard one Armstrong, in a sermon delivered to students, charge
his majesty with most foul and black-mouthed scandals, and use
such irreverent, base expressions as no good subjects could
repeat without horror. He then returned to England, and was soon
after sent to St. Omer with fresh letters, in which was mentioned
a design to stab or poison his majesty--Pere la Chaise, the
French king's confessor, having placed ten thousand pounds at the
disposal of the Jesuits that they might, by laying out such a
sum, the more successfully accomplish this deed. While abroad
the deponent had read many letters, relating to the execution of
Charles II., the subverting of the present government, and the
establishment of the Romish religion. Returning again to
England, he became privy to a treaty with Sir George Wakeham, the
queen's physician, to poison the king; and likewise with an
agreement to shoot him, made between the Jesuits and two men,
named Honest William and Pickering. He had heard a Jesuit preach
a sermon to twelve persons of quality in disguise, in which he
asserted "that protestants and other heretical princes were IPSO
FACTO deposed because such; and that it was as lawful to destroy
them as Oliver Cromwell or any other usurper." He also became
aware that the dreadful fire had been managed by Strange, the
provincial of the Jesuits, who employed eighty-six men in
distributing seven hundred fire-balls to destroy the city; and
that notwithstanding his vast expenses, he gained fourteen
thousand pounds by plunder carried on during the general
confusion, a box of jewels, consisting of a thousand carat weight
of diamonds, being included in the robbery.
The document containing these remarkable statements was finished
in August, 1678. It now remained to have it brought before the
king or the council. Tonge was resolved this should he done in a
manner best calculated to heighten the effect of their narrative;
at the same time he was careful to guard the fact that he and
Oates had an intimate knowledge of each other. Not knowing any
one of interest at court, he sought out Christopher Kirby, a man
employed in the king's laboratory, of whom he had some slight
knowledge, and, pledging him to the strictest secrecy, showed him
the "Narrative of the Horrid Plot," and besought his help in
bringing it under the notice of his majesty in as private a
manner as possible.
This aid was freely promised; and next day, the date being the
13th of August, when the monarch was about to take his usual
airing in the park, Kirby drew near, and in a mysterious tone
bade his majesty take care, for his enemies had a design against
his life, which might be put into execution at any moment.
Startled by such words, the king asked him in what manner was it
intended his life should be taken; to which he replied, "It might
be by pistol; but that to give a more particular account of the
matter, required greater privacy." The monarch, who quickly
recovered his first surprise, resolved to take his usual
exercise; and, subduing his curiosity, he bade Kirby attend him
on his return from the park, and tell him what he knew of the
subject.
When the time arrived, Kirby saw his majesty alone, and related
to him in brief that two men waited but an opportunity to shoot
him; and Sir George Wakeham had been hired to poison him; which
news, he concluded, had been imparted to him by a worthy man
living close at hand, who would attend his majesty's pleasure
when that was manifested.
Bewildered by such intelligence, yet suspicious of its veracity,
the king ordered Kirby to summon his informant that evening by
eight o'clock. When that hour came his majesty repaired to the
Red Room, and there met Dr. Tonge, who delivered his narrative
into his hands. The rector was convinced the great moment he had
so long awaited, in which he would behold the monarch aroused to
a sense of his danger, had arrived. He was doomed to bitter
disappointment. His majesty coolly took the narrative, and
without opening it, said it should be examined into. On this
Tonge begged it might be kept safe and secret, "lest the full
discovery should otherwise be prevented and his life endangered."
The monarch replied that, before starting with the court to-
morrow for Windsor, he would place it in the hands of one he
could trust, and who would answer for its safety. He then bade
him attend on the Lord Treasurer Danby next morning.
In obedience to this command, Tonge waited on his lordship at the
appointed time, and by the character of his replies helped to
develop his story of the plot. When asked if the document he had
given his majesty was the original of the deponent, Tonge
admitted it was in his own handwriting. On this, Lord Danby
expressed a desire to see the original, and likewise become
acquainted with its author. Nothing abashed, the rector replied
the manuscript was in his house, and accounted for its possession
by stating that, singularly enough, it had been thrust under his
door--he did not know by whom, but fancied it must be by one who,
some time before, had discussed with him on the subject of this
conspiracy. Whereon his lordship asked him if he knew the man,
and was answered he did not, but he had seen him lately two or
three times in the streets, and it was likely he should see him
soon again.
Being next questioned as to whether he had any knowledge of
Honest William, or Pickering, the villains who sought the king's
life, he answered he had not. Immediately, however, he
remembered it was their habit to walk in St. James's Park, and
said, if any man was appointed to keep him company, he was almost
certain he would have opportunities of letting that person see
these abominable wretches. Finally, Lord Danby asked him if he
knew where they dwelt, for it was his duty to have them arrested
at once; but of their abode Tonge was completely ignorant, though
he was hopeful he should speedily be able to obtain the required
information.
He was therefore dismissed, somewhat to his satisfaction, being
unprepared for such particular examination; but in a couple of
days he returned to the charge, determined his tale should not be
discredited for lack of effrontery, On this occasion he said he
had met the man he suspected of being author of the document, who
owned himself as such, and stated that his name was Titus Oates,
but requested Tonge would keep it a strict secret, "because the
papists would murder him if they knew what he was doing."
Moreover, Oates had given him a second paper full of fresh
horrors concerning this most foul plot. Taking this with him,
the lord treasurer hastened to Windsor, that he might consult the
king, having first left a servant with Tonge, in hopes the latter
might catch sight of Honest William and Pickering in their daily
walk through the park, and have them arrested. On Danby
recounting Tonge's statements to the king, his majesty was more
convinced than before the narrative was wholly without
foundation, and refused to make it known to his council or the
Duke of York. Therefore the lord-treasurer, on conclusion of a
brief visit, left Windsor for his country residence, situated at
Wimbledon.
For some days no fresh disclosure was made concerning this horrid
plot, until late one night, when Dr. Tonge arrived in great haste
at Lord Danby's house, and informed him some of the intended
regicides had resolved on journeying to Windsor next morning,
determined to assassinate the king. He added, it was in his
power to arrange that the earl's servant should ride with them in
their coach, or at least accompany them on horseback, and so give
due notice of their arrival, in order that they might be timely
arrested. Alarmed by this intelligence, Danby at once hastened
to Windsor, and informed the king of what had come to his
knowledge. Both endured great suspense that night, and next day
their excitement was raised to an inordinate pitch by seeing the
earl's servant ride towards the castle with all possible speed.
When, however, the man was brought into his majesty's presence,
he merely delivered a message from Dr. Tonge, stating the
villains "had been prevented from taking their intended journey
that day, but they proposed riding to Windsor next day, or within
two days at farthest." Before that time had arrived, another
message came to say, "one of their horses being slipped in the
shoulder, their trip to Windsor was postponed."
Taking these foolish excuses, as well as Dr. Tonge's
prevaricating answers and mysterious statements, into
consideration, the king was now convinced the "Narrative of a
Horrid Plot" was an invention of a fanatic or a rogue. He was,
therefore; desirous of letting the subject drop into obscurity;
but Lord Danby, foreseeing in the sensation which its avowal
would create, a welcome cloud to screen the defects of his
policy, which parliament intended to denounce, urged his majesty
to lay the matter before his privy council. This advice the king
refused to accept, saying, "he should alarm all England, and put
thoughts of killing him into people's heads, who had no such
ideas before." Somewhat disappointed, the lord treasurer
returned once more to Wimbledon, the king remaining at Windsor,
and no further news of the plot disturbed the even tenour of
their lives for three days.
At the end of that time Dr. Tonge, now conscious of the false
steps he had taken, conceived a fresh scheme by which his story
might obtain credence, and he gain wealth and fame. Accordingly
he wrote to Danby, informing him a packet of letters, written by
the Jesuits and concerning the plot, would, on a certain date, be
sent to Mr. Bedingfield, chaplain to the Duchess of York. Such
information was most acceptable to Danby at the moment; he at
once started for Windsor, and laid this fresh information before
the king. To his lordship's intense surprise, his majesty handed
him the letters. These, five in number, containing treasonable
expressions and references to the plot, had been some hours
before handed by Mr. Bedingfield to the Duke of York, saying, he
"feared some ill was intended him by the same packet, because the
letters therein seemed to be of a dangerous nature, and that he
was sure they were not the handwriting of the persons whose names
were subscribed to the letters." On examination, they were
proved to be most flagrant forgeries. Written in a feigned hand,
and signed by different names, they were evidently the production
of one man; the same want of punctuation, style of expression,
and peculiarities of spelling being notable in all. The Duke of
York, foreseeing malice was meant by them, forcibly persuaded the
king to place the epistles before the privy council.
Accordingly, they were handed to Sir William Jones, attorney
general, and Sir Robert Southwell, who stated, upon comparing
them with Dr. Tonge's narrative, they were convinced both were
written by the same hand.
Meanwhile, Tonge and Oates, aware of the coldness and doubt with
which his majesty had received the "Narrative of the Horrid
Plot," and ignorant of the fact he had placed the letters before
his privy council, resolved to make their story public to the
world. It therefore happened on the 6th of September they
presented themselves before Sir Edmondbury Godfrey, a justice of
the peace, in the parish of St. Martin's, who, not without
considerable persuasion, consented to receive a sworn testimony
from Titus Oates regarding the truth of his narrative, which had
now grown from forty-three to eighty-one articles. This action
prevented further secrecy concerning the so-called plot.
A few days later the court returned to town for the winter, when
the Duke of York besought the privy council to investigate the
strange charges made in the declaration. Accordingly, on the
28th of the month, Tonge and Oates were summoned before it, when
the latter, making many additions to his narrative, solemnly
affirmed its truth. Aghast at so horrible a relation, the
council knew not what to credit. The evil reputation Oates had
borne, the baseness of character he revealed in detailing his
actions as a spy, the mysterious manner in which the fanatical
Tonge accounted for his possession of the document, tended to
make many doubt; whilst others, believing no man would have the
hardihood to bring forward such charges without being able to
sustain them by proof, contended it was their duty to sift them
to the end. Believing if he had been entrusted with secret
letters and documents of importance, he would naturally retain
some of them in order to prove his intended charges, the council
asked Oates to produce them; but of these he had not one to show.
Nor, he confessed, could he then furnish proof of his words, but
promised if he were provided with a guard, and given officers and
warrants, he would arrest certain persons concerned in the plot,
and seize secret documents such as none could dispute. These
being granted him, he immediately caused eight Jesuits to be
apprehended and imprisoned. Then he commenced a search for
treasonable letters, not only in their houses, but in the homes
of such catholics as were noted for their zeal. His
investigations were awaited with impatience; nor were they
without furnishing some pretext for his accusations.
One of the first dwellings which Titus Oates investigated was
that of Edward Coleman. This gentleman, the son of an English
divine, had early in life embraced catholicity, for the
propagation of which he thenceforth became most zealous. Coming
under notice of the court, he became the confidant of the Duke of
York, and by him was made secretary to the duchess. A man of
great mental activity, religious fervour, and considerable
ambition, he had, about four years previous to this time, entered
into a correspondence with the confessor of the French king and
other Jesuits, regarding the hopes he entertained of Charles II.
professing catholicity. Knowing him to be bold in his designs
and incautious in his actions, the duke had discharged him from
his post as secretary to the duchess, but had retained him in his
dependence. This latter circumstance, together with a suspicion
of the confidence which had existed between him and his royal
highness, prompted Oates to have him arrested, and his house
searched. Coleman, having received notice of this design, fled
from his home, incautiously leaving behind him some old letters
and copies of communications which had passed between him and the
Jesuits. These were at once seized, and though not containing
one expression which could be construed as treasonable, were,
from expectations they set forth of seeing catholicity re-
established in England, considered by undiscerning judges, proofs
of the statements made by Oates.
On the strength of his discovery, Oates hastened to Sir
Edmondbury Godfrey, and swore false informations; becoming aware
of which, Coleman, conscious of his innocence, delivered himself
up, in hopes of meeting a justice never vouchsafed him.
The Privy council now sat morning and evening, in order to
examine Oates, whose evidence proved untrustworthy and
contradictory to a bewildering degree. When it was pointed out
to him the five letters, supposed to come from men of education,
contained ill-spelling, bad grammar, and other faults, he, with
much effrontery, declared it was a common artifice among the
Jesuits to write in that manner, in order to avoid recognition;
but inasmuch as real names were attached to the epistles, that
argument was not considered just. The subject was not mentioned
again. When an agent for these wicked men in Spain, he related,
he had been admitted into the presence of Don John, and had seen
him counting out large sums of money, with which he intended to
reward Sir George Wakeham when he had poisoned the king. Hearing
this, his majesty inquired what kind of person Don John was.
Oates said he was tall, lean, and black; whereas the monarch knew
him to be small, stout, and fair. And on another occasion, when
asked where he had heard the French king's confessor hire an
assassin to shoot Charles, he replied, "At the Jesuits' monastery
close by the Louvre;" at which the king, losing patience with the
impostor, cried out, "Tush, man! the Jesuits have no house
within a mile of the Louvre!" Presently Oates named two catholic
peers, Lord Arundel of Wardour and Lord Bellasis, as being
concerned in the plot, when the king again spoke to him, saying
these lords had served his father faithfully, and fought his wars
bravely, and unless proof were clear against them, he would not
credit they sought him ill. Then Oates, seeing he had gone too
far, said they did not know of the conspiracy, but it had been
intended to acquaint them with it in good time. Later on he
swore falsely against them.
Meanwhile the wildest sensation was caused by the revelations of
this "hellish plot and attempt to murder the king." The public
mind, long filled with hatred of papacy, was now inflamed to a
degree of fury which could only be quenched by the blood of many
victims. To the general sensation which obtained, a new terror
was promptly added by the occurrence of a supposed horrible and
mysterious murder.
On the evening of Saturday, the 12th of October, Sir Edmondbury
Godfrey was missing from his home in the parish of St. Martin's.
The worthy magistrate was an easy going bachelor of portly
appearance, much given to quote legal opinions in his discourse,
and to assert the majesty of the law as represented in his
person. He was alike respected for his zeal by the protestants,
and esteemed for his lenity by the catholics. Bishop Burnet
records the worthy knight "was not apt to search for priests or
mass-houses;" and Archdeacon Eachard affirms "he was well known
to be a favourer rather than a prosecutor of the papists."
Accordingly, his disappearance at first begot no evil suspicions;
but as he did not return on Monday, his servants became alarmed
at the absence of a master whose regularity was proverbial. His
brothers were of opinion he was in debt, and sought escape from
his creditors; whilst his friends, after their kind, were ready
to name certain houses of doubtful repute in which they were
certain he had taken temporary lodgings. On his papers being
examined, it was found he had set his affairs in order, paid all
his debts, and destroyed a quantity of his letters and documents.
It was then remembered he had been occasionally susceptible to
melancholia--a disease he inherited from his father, who had
perished by his own hand. It was noted some days before that on
which he was missed, he had appeared listless and depressed. It
was known the imprisonment of his friend Coleman had weighed
heavily on his spirits. A terrible fear now taking possession of
his relatives and friends, thorough search was made for him,
which proved vain until the Thursday following his disappearance,
when he was accidentally discovered lying in a ditch, a cloth
knotted round his neck, and a sword passed through his body, "at
or near a place called Primrose Hill, in the midway between
London and Hampstead."
If he had been murdered, no motive appeared to account for the
deed; neither robbery nor revenge could have prompted it. His
rings and money, gloves and cane, were found on and near his
body; and it was known he had lived in peace with all men. Nor
did an inquest lasting two days throw any light upon the mystery.
If it were proved he had died by his own hand, the law of that
day would not permit his brothers to inherit his property, which
was found to be considerable. It was therefore their interest to
ignore the fact that strangulation pointed to FELO DE SE, and to
assume he had been murdered. Accordingly they prohibited the
surgeons from opening the body, lest examination should falsify
conclusions at which they desired to arrive. A verdict was
ultimately returned "that he was murdered by certain persons
unknown to the jurors, and that his death proceeded from
suffocation and strangling by a certain piece of linen cloth of
no value."
Occurring at such a moment, his death was at once attributed to
the papists, who, it was said, being incensed that the magistrate
had received the sworn testimonies of Oates, had sought this
bloody revenge. Fear now succeeded bewilderment; desires of
vengeance sprang from depths of horror. For two days the mangled
remains of the poor knight were exposed to public view, "and all
that saw them went away inflamed." They were then interred with
all the pomp and state befitting one who had fallen a victim to
catholicism, a martyr to protestantism. The funeral procession,
which took its sad way through the principal thoroughfares from
Bridewell to St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, numbered seventy-two
divines, and over twelve hundred persons of quality and
consideration. Arriving at the church, Dr. Lloyd, a clergyman
remarkable for his fine abhorrence of papists, ascended the
pulpit, where, protected by two men of great height and strength,
he delivered a, discourse, pointing to the conclusion that Sir
Edmondbury Godfrey had been sacrificed to the catholic
conspiracy, and instigating his hearers to seek revenge. Sir
Roger North tells us the crowd in and about the church was
prodigious, "and so heated, that anything called papist, were it
cat or dog, had probably gone to pieces in a moment. The
catholics all kept close in their houses and lodgings, thinking
it a good composition to be safe there."
The whole city was terror-stricken. "Men's spirits were so
sharpened," says Burnet, "that it was looked on as a very great
happiness that the people did not vent their fury upon the
papists about the town." Tonge and Oates went abroad protected
by body guards, arresting hundreds of catholics; cannon were
mounted around Whitehall and St. James's; patrols paraded the
streets by day and night; the trained bands were ready to fall in
at a moment's notice; preparations were made for barricading the
principal thoroughfares; the city gates were kept closed so that
admission could be only had through the wickets; and the Houses
of Parliament demanded a guard should keep watch on the vaults
over which they sat, lest imitators of Guy Fawkes might blow them
to pieces. Moreover, it was not alone the safety of the
multitude, but the protection of the individual which was sought
to be secured. In the dark confusion which general terror
produced, each man felt he might be singled out as the next
victim of this diabolical plot, and therefore devised means to
guard his life from the hands of murderous papists. North, in
his "Examen," speaking of this period, tells us: "There was much
recommendation of silk armour, and the prudence of being provided
with it against the time the Protestants were to be massacred.
And, accordingly, there were abundance of those silken back,
breast, and headpots made and sold, that were pretended to be
pistol proof; in which any man dressed up was as safe as in a
house, for it was impossible anyone could go to strike him for
laughing; so ridiculous was the figure, as they say, of hogs in
armour. This was the armour of defence; but our sparks were not
altogether so tame as to carry their provision no further, for
truly they intended to be assailants upon fair occasion, and had
for that end recommended also to them a certain pocket weapon,
which for its design and efficacy had the honour to be called a
protestant flail. It was for street and crowd work; and the
engine lurking perdue in a coat pocket, might readily sally out
to execution, and so, by clearing a great hall, or piazza or so,
carry an election by a choice of polling called knocking down.
The handle resembled a farrier's blood stick, and the fall was
joined to the end by a strong nervous ligature, that in its swing
fell just short of the hand, and was made of LIGNUM VITAE, or
rather, as the poet termed it, MORTIS."
One day, whilst the town was in this state of consternation,
Tonge sent for Dr. Burnet, who hastened to visit him in the
apartments allotted him and Oates at Whitehall. The historian
says he found Tonge "so lifted up that he seemed to have lost the
little sense he had. Oates came in," he continues, "and made me
a compliment that I was one that was marked out to be killed. He
had before said the same to Stillingfleet of him. But he had
made that honour which he did us too cheap, when he said Tonge
was to be served in the same manner, because he had translated
'The Jesuits' Morals' into English. He broke out into great fury
against the Jesuits, and said he would have their blood. But I,
to divert him from that strain, asked him what were the arguments
that prevailed on him to change his religion and to go over to
the Church of Rome? He upon that stood up, and laid his hands on
his breast, and said, 'God and His holy angels knew that he had
never changed, but that he had gone among them on purpose to
betray them.' This gave me such a character of him, that I could
have no regard to anything he said or swore after that."
The agitation now besetting the public mind had been adroitly
fanned into flame by the evil genius of Lord Shaftesbury.
Eachard states that if he was not the original contriver of this
disturbance, "he was at least the grand refiner and improver of
all the materials. And so much he seemed to acknowledge to a
nobleman of his acquaintance, when he said, 'I will not say who
started the game, but I am sure I had the full hunting of it.'"
In the general consternation which spread over the land he beheld
a means that might help the fulfilment of his strong desires.
Chief among these were the exclusion of the Duke of York from the
throne, and the realization of his own inordinate ambition. A
deist in belief, he abhorred catholicism; a worshipper of self,
he longed for power. He had boasted Cromwell had wanted to crown
him king, and he narrated to Burnet that a Dutch astrologer had
predicted he would yet fill a lofty position. He had long
schemed and dreamed, and now it seemed the result of the one and
fulfilment of the other were at hand. The pretended discovery of
this plot threatened to upheave the established form of
government, for the king was one at heart with those about to be
brought to trial and death. A quarter of a century had not
passed since a bold and determined man had risen up and governed
Great Britain. Why should not history repeat itself in this
respect? the prospect was alluring. Possessing strong
influence, great vanity, and an unscrupulous character,
Shaftesbury resolved to stir the nation to its centre, at the
expense of peace, honour, and bloodshed.
On the 21st of October, Parliament assembled, when Lord Danby,
much against his majesty's inclination, brought the subject of
the plot before the Commons. This was a movement much
appreciated by the House, which, fired by the general
indignation, resolved to deal out vengeance with a strong hand.
As befitted such intention, they began by requesting his majesty
would order a day of general fasting and prayer, to implore the
mercy of Almighty God. The king complying with this desire, they
next, "in consideration of the bloody and traitorous designs,"
besought him to issue a proclamation "commanding all persons
being popish recusants, or so reputed," to depart ten miles from
the city. Accordingly, upwards of thirty thousand citizens left
London before the 7th of the following month, "with great
lamentations leaving their trades and habitations." Many of them
in a little while secretly returned again. A few days before
this latest petition was presented to the monarch, Oates had been
examined before the House for over six hours; and so delighted
was he by the unprejudiced manner in which his statements were
received, that he added several items to them. These were not
only interesting in themselves, but implicated peers and persons
of quality to the number of twenty-six. The former, including
Lords Stafford, Powis, Petre, Bellasis, and Arundel of Wardour,
were committed to the Tower, the latter to Newgate prison.
At the end of his examination he was several times asked if he
knew more of the plot, or of those concerned with it, to which he
emphatically replied he did not. Three days later he remembered
a further incident which involved many persons not previously
mentioned by him.
Both Houses now sat in the forenoon and afternoon of each day;
excitement was not allowed to flag. Oates seldom appeared before
the Commons without having fresh revelations to make; but the
fertility of his imagination by no means weakened the strength of
his evidence in the opinions of his hearers. "Oates was
encouraged," writes John Evelyn, "and everything he affirmed
taken for gospel." Indignation against the papists daily
increasing in height, the decrees issued regarding them became
more rigorous in severity.
On the 2nd of November the king, in obedience to his Parliament,
offered a reward of twenty pounds for the discovery of any
officer or soldier who, since the passing of the Test Act, "hath
been perverted to the Romish religion, or hears mass." Two days
later a bill was framed "for more effectually preserving the
king's person and government, by disabling papists from sitting
in either House of Parliament." As it was feared a clause would
be inserted in this, excluding the Duke of York, the enemies of
his royal highness more plainly avowed their object by moving
that an address be presented to the king, praying his brother
should "withdraw himself from his majesty's person and counsels."
This was the first step towards the Bill of Exclusion from
Succession which they hoped subsequently to obtain. The monarch,
however, determined to check such designs whilst there was yet
time; and accordingly made a speech to the peers, in which he
said to them, "Whatever reasonable bills you shall present to be
passed into laws, to make you safe in the reign of my successor,
so they tend not to impeach the right of succession, nor the
descent of the crown in the true line, shall find from me a ready
concurrence."
The intended address was therefore abandoned for the present; but
the bill for disabling catholics from sitting in either House of
Parliament, having a clause which excepted the Duke of York from
that indignity, passed on the 30th of November.
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