Skip to main content

Full text of "Bishop Burnet's History of his own time: with the suppressed passages of the first volume, and notes by the earls of Dartmouth and Hardwicke, and Speaker Onslow, hitherto unpublished"

See other formats


3 1 


00051 7128 





^^^B? ' 



Tm7l\n,S[,i,ti'J.'i!'.'/'\ 5AN DIEGO 

3 1822 00051 7128 


University of California, San Diego 


OCT 20 199U 

SEP i 7 1990 



UCSD Libr. 

Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 

in 2007 with funding from 

IVIicrosoft Corporation 


jonici ttUia-. saUp. AJLd. 














To which are added 





THE , 344 





Of the rest of king Charles the second's reign^ 
from the year 1673 to the year 1685, in which 
he died. 

Hitherto the reign of king Charles was 1673. 

pretty serene and calm at home. A nation weary Great jea- 
of a long civil war was not easily brought into jea- [^"*J*„g[ 
lousies and fears, which were the seeds of distrac- 
tion, and might end in new confusions and troubles. 
But the court had now given such broad intimations 
of an ill design, both on our religion and the civil 
constitution, that it was no more a jealousy: all 
was now open and barefaced. In the king's pre- 
sence the court flatterers were always magnifying 345 
absolute government, and reflecting on the insolence 
of a house of commons. The king said once to the 
earl of Essex, as he told me, that he did not wish 
to be like a grand signior, with some mutes about 


1673. him, and bags of bow-strings to strangle men as he 
had a mind to it : but he did not think he was a 
king, as long as a company of fellows were looking 
into all his actions, and examining his ministers, as 
well as his accounts. He reckoned, now he had set 
the church party at such a distance from the dis- 
senters, that it was impossible to make them join in 
opposition to his designs. He hoped, the church 
party would be always submissive : and he had the 
dissenters at mercy. 

The proceedings of the former year had opened 
aU men's eyes. The king's own religion was sus- 
pected, as his brother's was declared : and the whole 
conduct shewed a design to govern by the French 
model. A French general was brought over to 
schomberg commaud our armies. Count Schomberg, who was 
command" a German by birth, (but his mother was an English 
the army, ^q^^jj^^ ^^s scnt ovcr. He was a firm protestant, 
and served at first in HoUand. But upon the prince 
of Orange's death he went into France, where he 
grew into so high a reputation, that he was kept 
under, and not raised to be a marshal, only on the 
account of his rehgion. He was a calm man, of 
great application and conduct, [beyond what was 
expected by those who knew him on other occa- 
sions : for he was too much a German in the liber- 
ties he allowed himself in entertainments ; but when 
he commanded armies, he kept himself to better 
rules.] He thought much better than he spoke. 
He was a man of true judgment, of great probity, 
and of an humble and obhging temper : and at any 
other time of his life he would have been very ac- 
ceptable to the English. But now he was looked " 
on as one sent over from France to bring our army 



under a French discipline : and so he was hated by 1673. 
the nation, and not much loved by the court. He 
was always pressing the king to declare himself the 
he&d of the protestant pai'ty. He pressed him like- 
wise to bring his l^rother over from popery : but the 
king said to him, you know my brother long ago, 
that he is as stiff as a mule. He Uked the way of 
Charenton so well, that he went once a week to 
London to the. French church there, that was ac- 
cording to that form : so the duke and lord Clifford 
looked on him as a presbyterian, and an unfit man 
for their purpose. The duke of Buckingham hated 
him; for he hoped to have commanded the army* 
And as an army is a very unacceptable thing to the ' 
English nation, so it came to be the more odious^ 
when commanded by a general sent over from 
France. Schomberg told me, he saw it was impos- 
sible that the king could bring any great design to 
a good effect : he loved his ease so much, that he 
never minded business: and every thing that was 
said to him of affairs was heard with so little atten-346 
tion, that it made no impression. 

The ministry was all broke to pieces. The duke The court 
of Buckingham was alone, hated by all, as he hated divided, 
all the rest. But he went so entirely into all their 
ill designs, that the king considered him, and either 
loved or feared him so much, that he had a deep 
root with him. Lord Clifford stuck firm to the 
duke, and was heated with the design of bringing in 
popery, even to enthusiasm. It was believed, if the 
design had succeeded, he had agreed with his wife 
to take orders^, and to aspire to a cardinal's hat. 

• Was he or she to take orders ? S. 
B 2 


1673, He grew violent ; and could scarce speak with pa- 
tience of the church of England and of the clergy. 
The earl of ArUngton thought that the design was 
now lost, and that it was necessary for the king to 
make up with his people in the best manner he 
could. The earl of Shaftsbury was resolved to save 
himself on any terms ^. 

The money was exhausted : so it was necessary 
to have a session of parliament. And one was called 
in the beginning of the year. At the opening it, the 
king excused the issuing out the writs, as done to 
save time, and to have a fuU house at the first open- 
ing : but he left that matter wholly to them : he 
spoke of the declaration for liberty of conscience in 
another style : he said he had seen the good effects 
of it ; and that he would stick to it, and maintain 
it : he said, he was engaged in a war for the honour 
of the nation, and therefore he demanded the sup- 
plies that were necessary to carry it on. On these 
heads lord Shaftsbury enlarged. But no part of his 
speech was more amazing than that, speaking of the 
war with the Dutch ; he said, Delenda est Car^ 
thago. Yet, while he made a base complying speech 
in favour of the court and of the war, he was in a 
secret management with another party. 

The house of commons was uppn this all in a 

b I heard the first duke of him the lie, which turned the 

Bolton say, that at this time discourse into a quarrel, that 

the duke of Buckingham, lord was made up before they part- 

Shaftsbury, and a great deal of ed. D. (The secrets were 

company, dined at his house, those of a ministry composed 

and after they had drank very of whigs, romanists, and athe- 

freely, the duke of Buckingham ists, who were the advisers of 

began to tell some of their se- the worst measures of this 

crets, which Shaftsbury had no reign.) 
way to prevent but by giving 


flame. They saw popery and slavery lay at the 1673. 
bottom. Yet, that they might not grasp at too The decia- 
much at once, they resolved effectually to break the J!^^"!*^** 
whole design of popery. They argued the matter '^g»'- 
of the declaration ; whether it was according to law, 
or not. It was plainly an annulling of the penal 
law, made both against papists and dissenters. It 
was said, that though the king had a power of par- 
doning, yet he had not a power to authorize men to 
break laws. This must infer a power to alter the 
whole government. The strength of every law was 
the penalty laid upon offenders : and, if the king 
could secure offenders by indemnifying them before- 
hand, it was a vain thing to make laws ; since by 
that maxim they had no force, but at the king's dis- 
cretion. Those who pleaded for the declaration pre- 347 
tended to put a difference between penal laws in 
spiritual matters and all others : and said that the 
king's supremacy seemed to give him a peculiar au- 
thority over these : by virtue of this it was, that the 
synagogue of the Jews and the Walloon churches 
had been so long tolerated. But to this it was an- 
swered, that the intent of the law in asserting the 
supremacy was only to exclude aU foreign jurisdic- 
tion, and to lodge the whole authority with the 
king: but that was still to be bounded and regu- 
lated by law : and a difference was to be made be- 
tween a connivance, such as that the Jews lived 
under, by which they were still at mercy, and a 
legal authority : the parliament had never disputed 
the legality of the patent for the Walloon congrega- 
tions, which was granted to encourage strangers, 
professing the same religion, to come among us, 
when they were persecuted for it in their own coun- 

B 3 


1673. try : it was at first granted only to strangers : but 
afterwards in the days of their children, who were 
natives, it had been made void : and now they were 
excepted by a special clause out of the act of uni- 
formity. The house came quickly to a very una- 
nimous resolution, that the declaration was against 
law. And they set that forth in an address to the 
king, in which they prayed that it might be called 
in. Some were studying to divert this, by setting 
them on to inquire into the issuing out the writs. 
And the court seemed willing that the storm should 
break on lord Shaftsbury, and would have gladly 
compounded the matter by making him the sacrifice. 
He saw into that ; and so was resolved to change 
sides with the first opportunity. 
A bill for The house was not content with this : but they 
' brought in a bill disabling all papists from holding 
any employment or place at court; requiring all 
persons in public trust to receive the sacrament in a 
parish church, and to carry an attested certificate of 
that, with witnesses to prove it, into chancery, or 
the county sessions ; and there to make a declara- 
tion renouncing tran substantiation in fuU and posi- 
tive words. Great pains was taken by the court to 
divert this. They proposed that some regard might 
be had to protestant dissenters, and that their meet- 
ings might be allowed. By this means they hoped 
to have set them and the church party into new 
The pru- hcats ; for now all were united against popery. Love, 
the dissent- who scrvcd for the city of London, and was himself 
a dissenter, saw what ill effects any such quarrels 
might have : so he moved, that an effectual security 
might be found against popery, and that nothing 
might intei-pose till that was done. When that was 


over, then they would try to deserve some favour: 1673. 
but at present they were willing to lie under the se- 
verity of the laws, rather than clog a more necessary 
work with their concerns. The chief friends of the 348 
sects agi'eed to this. So a vote passed to bring in a 
bill in favour of protestant dissenters, though there 
was not time enough, nor unanimity enough, to finish 
one this session : for it went no farther than a se- 
cond reading, but was dropt in the committee. But 
this prudent behaviour of theirs did so soften the 
church party, that there was no more votes nor 
bills offered at against them, even in that angry 
parliament, that had been formerly so severe upon 

The court was now in great perplexity. If they Debates in 

,. • 1 1 n ^^^ house 

gave way to proceedmgs m the house 01 commons, of lords. 
there was a ftiU stop put to the design for popery : 
and if they gave not way to it, there was an end of 
the war. The French could not furnish us with so 
much money as was necessary : and the shutting up 
the exchequer had put an end to all credit. The 
court tried what could be done in the liouse of lords. 
Lord Clifford resolved to assert the declaration with 
all the force and all the arguments he could bring 
for it. He shewed the heads he intended to speak 
on to the king, who aj)proved of them, and sug- 
gested some other hints to him. He began the de- 
bate with rough words : he called the vote of the 
commons monstrum horrendum ingens, and run on 
in a very high strain. He said all that could be 
said, with great heat, and many indecent expres- 
sions. When he had done, the earl of Shaftsbury, 
to the amazement of the whole house, said, he must 
differ from the lord that spoke last toto coelo. He 

B 4) 


1673. gaid, while those matters were debated out of doors, 

he might think with others, that the supremacy, as- 
serted as it was by law, did warrant the declara- 
tion : but now that such a house of commons, so 
loyal and affectionate to the king, were of another 
mind, he submitted his reasons to theirs : they were 
the king's great council : they must both advise and 
support him : they had done it ; and would do it 
still, if their laws and their religion were once secure 
to them. The king was aU in fury to be thus for- 
saken by his chancellor : and told lord Clifford, how 
weU he was pleased with his speech, and how highly 
he was offended with the other. The debate went 
on, and upon a division the court had the majority. 
But against that vote about thirty of the most con- 
siderable of the house protested. So the court saw 
they had gained nothing in carrying a vote, that 
drew after it such a protestation '^. 

This matter took soon after that a quick turn. It 
had been much debated in the cabinet, what the 
king should do. Lord Clifford and duke Lauder- 
dale were for the king's standing his ground. Sir 
Ellis Leightoun assured me, that the duke of Buck- 
ingham and lord Berkeley offered to the king, if he 
would bring the army to town, that they would take 
349 out of both houses the members that made the op- 
position. He fancied, the thing might have been 

^ (There is no notice in the ings of the House of Lords 

Journals of the House of Lords state, that there was any divi- 

of any protest having been en- sion or protest on this occa- 

tered against a decision of that sion. This information was 

house respecting the king's de- obligingly communicated by the 

claration for liberty of con- reverend Mr. Bandinel, head 

science. Neither does Chand- keeper of the Bodleian library.) 
ler in his History and Proceed- 


easily brought about, and that, if the king would 1673. 
have acted with the spirit that he sometimes put on, The variety 
they might have carried their business. Duke Lau- J*^ JJ^"'""* 
derdale talked of bringing an army out of Scotland, •''"g's 
and seizing on Newcastle ; and pressed this with as 
much vehemence, as if he had been able to have ex- 
ecuted it. Lord Cliiford said to the king, his people 
did now see through all his designs : and therefore 
he must resolve to make himself master at once, or 
be for ever subject to much jealousy and contempt. 
The earls of Shaftsbury and Arlington pressed the 
king, on the other hand, to give the parliament full 
content : and they undertook to procure him money 
for carrying on the war : and, if he was successful 
in that, he might easily recover what he must in 
this extremity part with. This suited the king's 
own temper. Yet the duke held him in suspence. 

Colbert's brother, Croissy, was then the French The French 
ambassador here. Lord Arlington possessed him king to 
with such an apprehension of the madness of violent H^^ pariia- 
counsels, and that the least of the ill effects they ™*°*- 
might have would be the leaving the war wholly on 
the French king, and that it would be impossible to 
carry it on, if the king should run to such extremi- 
ties, as some were driving him to at home ; that he 
gained him both to press the king and his brother 
to comply with the parliament, and to send an ex- 
press to his own master, representing the whole 
matter in the light in which lord Arlington had set 
it before him. 

In the aftemoop of the day in which the matter 
had been argued in the house of lords, the earls of 
Shaftsbury and Arlington got all those members of 
/the house of commons on whom they had any influ- 


1673. ence, (and who had money from the king, and were 
his spies, but had leave to vote with the party 
against the court, for procuring them the more crer 
dit,) to go privately to him, and to tell him that 
upon lord Clifford's speech the house was in such 
fury, that probably they would have gone to some 
high votes and impeachments : but the lord Shafts- 
bury speaking on the other side restrained them : 
they believed he spoke the king's sense, as the other 
did the duke's ; this calmed them. So they made 
the king apprehend, that the lord chancellor's speech, 
with which he had been so much offended, was 
really a great service done him : and they persuaded 
him farther, that he might now save himself, and 
obtain an indemnity for his ministers, if he would 
The king part with the declaration, and pass the bill. This 
tha° sud- was SO dcxterously managed by lord Arlington, who 
deniy. g^^ ^ great number of the members to go one after 
another to the king, who by concert spoke all the 
same language, that before night the king was quite 
350 changed, and said to his brother, that lord Clifford 
had undone himself, and had spoiled their business 
by his mad sjieech ; and that, though lord Shafts- 
bury had spoke like a rogue, yet that had stopt a 
fiiry which the indiscretion of the other had kin- 
dled to such a degree, that he could serve him no 
longer. He gave him leave to let him know all this. 
The duke was struck with this; and imputed it 
whoUy to lord Arlington's management. In the 
evening he told lord Clifford what the king had 
said. The lord Clifford, who was naturally a vehe- 
ment man, went upon that to the king, who scarce 
knew how to look him in the face. Lord Clifford 
said, he knew how many enemies he must needs 


make to himself by his speech in the house of lords : 1673. 
but he hoped that in it he both served and pleased 
the king, and was therefore the less concerned in 
every thing else : but he was surprised to find by 
the duke, that the king was now of another mind. 
The king was in some confusion : he owned, that all cnfford 
lie had said was right in it self: but he said, that 
he, who sat long in the house of commons, should 
have considered better what they could bear, and 
what the necessity of his affairs required. Lord 
Clifford in his first heat was inclined to have laid 
down his white staff, and to have expostulated 
roundly with the king. But a cooler thought stop- 
ped him. He reckoned he must now retire : and 
therefore he had a mind to take some care of his fa^ 
mily in the way of doing it : so he restrained him- 
self; and said, he was sorry that his best meant ser- 
vices were so ill understood. Soon after this, letters 
came from the French king, pressing the king to do 
all that was necessary to procure money of his par- 
liament, since he could not bear the charge of the 
war alone. He also writ to the duke, and excused 
the advice he gave upon the necessity of affafrs ; but 
promised faithfuUy to espouse his concerns, as soon 
as he got out of the war, and that he would never 
be easy, tiU he recovered that which he was now 
forced to let go. Some parts of these transac- 
tions I had from the duke and from duke Lauder- 
dale : the rest, that related to the lord CUfibrd, Ti- 
tus told me, he had from his own mouth. 

As soon as lord Clifford saw he must lose the 
white staff, he went to the duke of Buckingham, 
who had contributed much to the procuring it to 
him ; and told him, he brought him the first notice 


1^673. that he was to lose that place to which he had 

helped him, and that he would assist him to procure 

it to some of his friends. After they had talked 

round all that were in any sort capable of it, and 

had found great objections to every one of them, 

osborn they at last pitched on sir Thomas Osbom, a gentle- 
made lord n-«rii« 

treasurer, man of Yorkshire, whose estate was much sunk. 
He was a very plausible speaker, but too copious, 
351 and could not easily make an end of his discourse ^. 
He had been always among the high cavaliers : and 
missing preferment, he had opposed the court much^ 
and was one of lord Clarendon's bitterest enemies. 
He gave himself great liberties in discourse, and did 
not seem to have any regard to truth, or so much as 
to the appearances of it; and was an implacable 
enemy : but he had a peculiar way to make his 
friends depend on him, and to believe he was true 
to them. He was a positive and undertaking man : 
so he gave the king great ease, by assuring him aU 
things would go according to his mind in the next 
session of parliament. And when his hopes failed 
him, he had always some excuse ready to put the 
miscarriage upon. And by this means he got into 
the highest degree of confidence with the king, and 
maintained it the longest of aU that ever served him. 
A great The king now went into new measures. He 

Mppjwas ^g^Ug^ £qj. ^jjg declaration, and ordered the seal put 

•* I never knew a man that would afterwards make use of 

could express himself so clearly, very much to his advantage, by 

or that seemed to carry his point undertaking that people should 

so much by force of a superior be of an opinion, that he knew 

understanding. In private con- was theirs before. D. 

versation he had a particular ' He had been with the 

art in making the company tell court now for some time, and 

their opinions without disco- was treasurer of the navy. O. 
vering of his own ; which he 


to it to be broken. So the act for the taking the 1673. 
sacrament, and the test against transubstantiation, 
went on : and together with it an act of grace 
passed, which was desired chiefly to cover the mi- 
nistry, who were all very obnoxious by their late 
actings. The court desired at least 1,200,000/.; for 
that sum was necessary to the carrying on the 
war. The great body of those who opposed the 
court had resolved to give only 600,000/. which 
was enough to procure a peace, but not to con- 
tinue the war. Garroway and Lee had led the 
opposition to the court all this session in the house 
of commons: so they were thought the properest 
to name the sum. Above eighty of the chief of 
the party had met over night, and had agreed to 
name 600,000/. But Garroway named 1,200,000/. 
and was seconded in it by Lee. So this surprise 
gained that great sum, which enabled the court to 
carry on the war. When their party reproached 
these persons for it, they said, they had tried some 
of the court as to the sum intended to be named, 
who had assured them, the whole agreement would 
be broke, if they offered so small a sum : and 
this made them venture on the double of it. They 
had good rewards from the court : and yet they 
continued still voting on the other side. They said, 
they had got good pennyworths for their money: 
a sure law against popery, which had clauses in it 
never used before; for all that continued in office 
after the time lapsed, they not taking the sacra- 
ment, and not renouncing transubstantiation, (which 
came to be called the test, and the act from it the 
test act,) were rendered incapable of holding any 
office : all the acts they did in it were declared in- 


1673. valid and illegal, besides a fine of five hundred 

pounds to the discoverer. Yet upon that lord Ca- 
vendish, now duke of Devonshire, said, that when 
much money was given to buy a law against po- 
pery, the force of the money would be stronger in 
352 order to the bringing it in, than the law could be 
for keeping it out. I never knew a thing of this 
nature carried so suddenly and so artificially in the 
house of commons, as this was, to the great amaze- 
ment of the Dutch, who relied on the parliament, 
and did not doubt but that a peace with England 
would be procured by their interposition. 
The duke Thus this mcmorablc session ended. It was in- 
aii his com- deed much the best session of that long parliament, 
missions, rpj^^ church party shewed a noble zeal for then* reli- 
gion : and the dissenters got great reputation by 
their silent deportment. After the session was over, 
the duke carried all his commissions to the king, and 
wept as he delivered them up : but the king shewed 
no concern at all. Yet he put the admiralty in a 
commission composed whoUy of the duke's crea- 
tures : so that the power of the navy was still in his 
hands. Lord Clifford left the treasury, and was 
succeeded by Osbom, who was soon after made 
earl of Danby. The earl of Shaftsbury had lost the 
king's favour quite. But it was not thought fit to 
lay him aside, till it should appear what service he 
could do them in another session of parliament. 
Lord Arlington had lost the duke more than any 
other. He looked on him as a pitiful coward, who 
would forsake and betray any thing, rather than 
run any danger himself Prince Rupert was sent 
to command the fleet. But the captains were the 
duke's creatures: so they crossed him all they 


could, and complained of every thing he did. In 1673. 
a word, they said he had neither sense nor con- 
duct left. Little could be expected from a fleet 
so commanded and so divided. He had two or 
three engagements with the Dutch, that were weU 
fought on both sides, but were of no great conse- 
quence, and were drawn battles. None of the 
French ships engaged, except one, who charged 
their admiral for his ill conduct : but, instead of re- 
ward, he was clapt in the Bastille upon his return 
to France. This opened the eyes and mouths of 
the whole nation. All men cried out, and said, we 
were engaged in a war by the French, that they 
might have the pleasure to see the Dutch and us 
destroy one another, while they knew our seas and 
ports, and learned all our methods, but took care to 
preserve themselves. Count Schomberg told me, he 
pressed the French ambassador to have the matter 
examined. Otherwise, if satisfaction was not given 
to the nation, he was sure the next parliament 
would break the alliance. But by the ambassador's 
coldness he saw the French admiral had acted ac- 
cording to his instructions. So Schomberg made 
haste to get out of England, to prevent an address 
to send him away : and he was by that time as 
weary of the court, as the court was of him ^. 

The duke was now looking for another wife. He Ti>e ^»^e 
made addresses to the lady Bellasis, the widow of second mw- 
the lord Bellasis's son. She was a zealous protest- q^q 
ant, though she was married into a popish family. 

* The king put him in ex- a man little esteemed at that 

pectation of a garter ; but (by time ; which aggravated the af- 

the intrigues of the ladies) had front, as he thought. D. 
given it to the earl of Mulgrave, 


1673. She was a woman of much life and great vivacity, 
but of a very small proportion of beauty; as the 
duke was often observed to be led by his amours to 
objects that had no extraordinary charms. Lady 
Bellasis gained so much on the duke, that he gave 
her a promise under his hand to marry her. And 
he sent Coleman to her to draw her over to popery : 
but in that she could not be moved. When some 
of her friends reproached her for admitting the 
duke so freely to see her, she could not bear it, but 
said, she could shew that his addresses to her were 
honourable. When this came to the lord BeUasis's 
ears, who was her father-in-law, and was a zealous 
papist, and knew how intractable the lady was in 
those matters, he gave the whole design of bringing 
in their religion for gone, if that was not quickly 
broke : so he, pretending a zeal for the king and 
the duke's honour, went and told the king all he 
had heard. The king sent for the duke, and told 
him, it was too much that he had played the fool 
once : that was not to be done a second time, and at 
such an age. The lady was also so threatened, that 
she gave up the promise, but kept an attested copy 
of it, as she herself told me. There was an arch- 
duchess of Inspruck, to whom marriage was so- 
lemnly proposed : but the empress happening to die 
at that time, the emperor himself married her. 
After that a match was proposed to the duke of 
Modena's daughter, which took effect. But be- 
cause those at Rome were not willing to consent to 
it, unless she might have a public chapel, which the 
court would not hearken to, another marriage was 
proposed for a daughter of the duke of Crequi's. I 
saw a long letter of the duke's writ to sir William 


Lockhart upon this subject with great anxiety. He 1673. 
apprehended, if he was not married before the ses- 
eion of parliament, that they would fall on that 
matter, and limit him so, that he should never be 
able to marry to his content : he was vexed at the 
stiffness of the court of Rome, who were demanding 
terms that could not be granted : he had sent a po- 
sitive order to the earl of Peterborough, who was 
negotiating the business at Modena, to come away 
by such a day, if all was not consented to : in the 
mean while he hoped, the king of France would not 
put that mortification on him, as to expose him to 
the violence of the parliament, (I use his own 
words ;) but that he would give order for despatch- 
ing that matter with all possible haste. But, while 
he was thus perplexed, the court of Rome yielded : 
and so the duke married that lady by proxy : and 
the earl of Peterborough brought her over through 

The Swedes offered at this time a mediation in a treaty 

opened at 

order to a peace : and Cologn was proposed to be coiogn. 
the place of treaty. The king ordered the earl of ^^* 
Sunderland, sir LeoUn Jenkins, and sir Joseph Wil- 
liamson thither, to be his plenipotentiaries. Lord ^<"'*^ '^""- 


Sunderland was a man of a clear and ready appre- character. 
hension, and a quick decision in business. He had 
too much heat both of imagination and passion, and 
was apt to speak very freely both of persons and 
things ^ His own notions were always good : but 

' He was remarkable for ne- was secretary, Mr. Bridgman 

ver speaking in public, nor at always attended to take the mi- 

the cabinet, more than he was nutes for him, and whilst he 

of such a lord's opinion, or he was president, the lord chan- 

wondered how any body could cellor always acted for him at 

be of that opinion. When he the council. Mr. War, who 



1673. he was a man of great expense. And, in order to 

the supporting himself, he went into the prevailing 
counsels at court : and he changed sides often, with 
little regard either to religion or the interest of his 
Tcountry. He raised many enemies to himself by 
the contempt with which he treated those who dif- 
fered from him. He had indeed the superior genius 
to all the men of business that I have yet known. 
And he had the dexterity of insinuating himself so 
entirely into the greatest degree of confidence with 
three succeeding princes, who set up on very differ- 
ent interests, that he came by this to lose himself so 
much, that even those who esteemed his parts, de- 
pended little on his firmness, 
b? ke'*ff '^ The treaty of Cologn was of a short continuance : 
for the emperor, looking on Furstenberg, the dean 
of Cologn, and bishop of Strasbourg, afterwards ad- 
vanced to be cardinal, who was the elector's pleni- 
potentiary at that treaty, as a subject of the empire, 
who had betrayed it, ordered him to be seized on. 
The French looked on this as such a violation of 
the passports, that they set it up for a preliminary, 
before they would enter upon a treaty, to have him 
set at liberty. 
.i») Maestricht was taken this summer ; in which the 

duke of Monmouth distinguished himself so emi- 
nently, that he was much considered upon it. The 
king of France was there ; [but it was tliought he 
took much more care of his person than became a 
great prince. After the taking of Maestricht he 

was one of his comniis, told me, he was usually at cards, and he 
he never came to the secretary's would sign them without read- 
office, but they carried the pa- ing, and seldom asked what 
pers to him at his house, where they were about. D. 


went to Nancy in Lorraine, and left the prince of 1673. 
Cond^ with the ^rmy in Flanders, Turenne having 
the command of that on the Upper Rhine against 
the Grermans ; for the emperor and the whole em- 
pire were now engaged. 

But I return now to the intrigues of our court. I The affairs 

1 • • 1 1 1 !• 1 • °f Scotland. 

came up this summer, m order to the pubushmg 
the Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton. I had left 
Scotland under an universal discontent. The whole 
administration there was both violent and corrupt, 
and seemed to be formed on a French model. The 
parliament had in the year 1663, in order to the bring- 
ing our trade to a balance with England, given the 
king in trust a power to lay impositions on foreign 
commodities. So upon that a great duty was lately 
laid upon French salt, in order to the better vend- 
ing the salt made at home : upon which it was sold 
very dear. And that raised great complaints : for, 
as the salt was excessive dear, so it did not serve all 355 
purposes. All people looked on this as the begin- 
ning of a gabel. An imposition was also laid on 
tobacco : and all brandy was prohibited to be im- 
ported, but not to be retailed : so those who had the 
grant of the seizures sold them, and raised the price 
very much. These occasioned monopolies : and the 
price of those things that were of great consump- 
tion among the commons was much raised : so that 
a trust lodged with the crown was now abused in the 
highest degree. As these things provoked the body 
of the people, so duke Lauderdale's insolence, and 
his engrossing every thing to himself, and to a few 
of his friends, and his wife and his brother setting 
all things to sale, raised a very high discontent all 
over the nation. The affairs of tlie church were al- 

c 2 

m tiIe history of the reign 

1 673. together neglected : so that in aU respects we were 
quite out of joint. 

I went up with a fuU resolution to do my coun- 
try all the service I could, and to deal very plainly 
with the duke of Lauderdale, resolving, if I could 
do no good, to retire from aU affairs, and to meddle 
no more in public business. I lost indeed my best 
friend at court. Sir Robert Murray died suddenly 
at that time. He was the wisest and worthiest 
man of the age, and was as another father to me. 
I was sensible how much I lost in so critical a con- 
juncture, being bereft of the truest and faithfuUest 
friend I had ever known : and so I saw I was in 
danger of committing great errors for want of so 
kind a monitor. 
Lander- At my comiug to court, duke Lauderdale took 

sign. me into his closet, and asked me the state of Scot- 
land. I upon that gave him a very punctual and 
r " true account of it. He seemed to think that I ag- 
gravated matters ; and asked me, if the king should 
need an army from Scotland to tame those in Eng- 
land, whether that might be depended on? I told 
him, certainly not : the commons in the southern 
parts were all presbyterians : and the nobility thought 
they had been iU used, and were generally discon- 
tented, and only waited for an occasion to shew it. 
He said, he was of another mind : the hope of the 
spoil of England would fetch them aU in. I an- 
swered, the king was ruined, if ever he trusted to 
that : and I added, that with relation to other more 
indifferent persons, who might be otherwise ready 
enough to push their fortunes without any anxious 
inquiries into the gi'ounds they went on, yet even 
these would not trust the king, since he had so lately 


said, he would stick to his declaration, and yet had 1673. 
so soon after given it up. He said, Hinc ilUe la- 
crymce: but the king was forsaken in that matter, 
for none stuck to him but lord Clifford and himself: 
and then he set himself into a fit of railing at lord 
Shaftsbury. I was struck with this conversation ; 
and by it I clearly saw into the desjjerate designs of 
the court, which were as foolish as they were 
wicked : for I knew, that upon the least disorder in 356 
England they were ready in Scotland to have broke 
out into a rebellion : so far were they from any incli- 
nation to have assisted the king in the mastering of 
England. I was much perplexed in my self what I 
ought to do, whether I ought not to have tried to give 
the king a truer view of our affairs : but I resolved to 
stay for a fit opportunity. I tried the duchess of Lau- 
derdale, and set before her the injustice and oppres- 
sion that Scotland was groaning under : but I saw she 
got too much by it to be any way concerned at it s. 
They talked of going down to hold a session of par- 
liament in Scotland : I warned them of their dan- 
ger. But they despised all I could say : only gi'eat 
offers were made to my self, to make me wholly 
theirs, which made no impression on me. 

He carried me to the king, and proposed the The king 
licensing my Memoirs to him. The king bid mcMemoTra. 
bring them to him ; and said, he would read them 
himself. He did read some parts of them, particu- 

B ( " The only apprehension " more narrowly into certain 

" was of my lord Lauderdale's " methods she had lately found 

•* being influenced by his lady " out of getting money for her- 

** to oppose it, {;joiz. holding a " self." hije of King James II. 

" parliament in Scotland in lately published by Dr. Clarke, 

" 168 1,) for fear lest a parlia- from the Stuart papers, vol. K 

" nient should look a little pag. 683.) 

c 3 


^^73. larly the account I gave of the ill conduct of the 
bishops, that occasioned the beginning of the wars : 
and told me, that he was weU pleased with it. 
He was at that time so much offended with the 
English bishops for opposing the toleration, that he 
seemed much sharpened against them. He gave me 
back my book to carry it to secretary Coventry, in 
order to the licensing it. The secretary said, he 
would read it all himself: so this obliged me to a 
longer stay than I intended. Sir Ellis Leightoun 
carried me to the duke of Buckingham, with whom 
I passed almost a whole night; and happened so 
far to please him, that he, who was apt to be 
fired with a new acquaintance, gave such a cha- 
racter of me to the king, that ever after that he 
took much notice of me, and said, he would hear 
me preach. He seemed well pleased with my ser- 
mon ; and spoke of it in a strain that drew much 
envy on me. 
And shewed He ordcrcd me to be sworn a chaplain, and ad- 

me great ^ ^ '^ 

favour. mitted me to a long private audience, that lasted 
above an hour, in which I took all the freedom with 
him that I thought became my profession. He run 
me into a long discourse about the authority of the 

> :;..;f»i- cJmrch, which he thought we made much of in our 
disputes with the dissenters, and then took it all 
away when we dealt with the papists. I saw plainly 
what he aimed at in this : and I quickly convinced 
him, that there was a great difference between an 
authority of government in things indifferent, and a 
pretence to infallibility. He complained heavily of 
the bishops for neglecting the true concerns of the 
church, and following courts so much, and being so 
engaged in parties. I went through some other 


things with relation to his course of life, and entered 1673. 
into many particulars with much freedom. He bore 
it all very well ; and thanked me for it : some things 357 
he freely condemned, such as living with another 
man's wife : other things he excused, and thought 
God would not damn a man for a little irregulai' 
pleasure. He seemed to take all I had said very 
kindly : and during my stay at court he used me in 
so particular a manner, that I was considered as a 
man growing into a high degree of favour. 

At the same time lord Ancram, a Scotish earl, but ^fy conver- 

1 n • • 1 • 1 sation with 

of a small fortune, and of no pnnciples, either as to tiie duke. 
religion or virtue, whose wife was a papist, and him- 
self a member of the house of commons, told the 
duke that I had a great interest in Scotland, and 
might do him service in that kingdom. He de- 
pended on duke Lauderdale ; but hated him, because 
he did nothing for him. We were acquainted there : 
and, he having studied the most divinity of any 
man of quaUty I ever knew, we found many subjects 
of discourse. He saw I did not flatter duke Lau- 
derdale ; and he fancied he might make a tool of 
me. So he seemed to wonder that I had not been 
carried to wait on the duke; and brought me a 
message from him, that he would be glad to see 
me : and upon that he carried me to him. The duke 
received me very graciously. Lord Ancram had a 
mind to engage me to give him an account of the 
affairs of Scotland; but I avoided that, and very 
bluntly entered into much discourse with him about 
matters of religion. He said some of the common 
things, of the necessity of having but one church, 
otherwise we saw what swarms of sects did rise up 
on our revolt from Rome, and these had raised 
many rebellions, and the shedding much blood : and 

c 4 


1673. he named both his father's death and his great grand- 
mother's, Mary queen of Scots : he also turned to 
some passages in Heylin's History of the Reforma- 
tion, which he had lying by him : and the passages 
were marked, to shew upon what motives and prin- 
ciples men were led into the changes that were then 
made. I enlarged upon all these particulars ; and 
shewed him the progress that ignorance and super- 
stition had made in many dark ages, and how much 
bloodshed was occasioned by the papal pretensions, 
for all which the opinion of infallibility was a source 
never to be exhausted. And I spoke long to such 
things as were best suited to his temper and his ca- 
pacity. I saw lord Ancram helped him all he could, 
by which I perceived how he made his court ; for 
which when I reproached him afterwards, he said, it 
was ill breeding in me to press so hard on a prince. 
The duke upon this conversation expressed such a 
liking to me, that he ordered me to come oft to 
him : and afterwards he allowed me to come to him 
in a private way, as oft as I pleased. He desired 
to know the state of affairs in Scotland. I told him 
how little that kingdom could be depended on. 
[I saw he was firm to duke Lauderdale : there- 
fore I laid the fault on others, and excused him the 
358 best I could. But] I turned the discourse often 
to matters of religion. He broke it very gently; 
for he was not at all rough in private conversation. 
He wished I would let those matters alone: I 
might be too hard for him, and silence him, but 
I could never convince him **. I told him, it was 

•* In one of the duke's letters, " again of turning protestant ; 

(to the first lord Dartmouth,) " do not ex|}ect it, or flatter 

he writes, " Pray, once for all, " yourself I shall ever be it. I 

•• never say any thing to me *' never shall, and if occasion 


a thing he could never answer to God nor the 1673!, 
world, that, being born and baptized in our church, 
and having his father's last orders to continue stead- 
fast in it, he had suffered himself to be seduced, and 
as it were stolen out of it, hearing only one side, 
without offering his scruples to our divines, or hear- 
ing what they had to say in answer to them ; and 
that he was now so fixed in his popery, that he 
would not so much as examine the matter. He 
said to me, he had often picqueered out (that was 
his word) on Sheldon, and some other bishops ; by 
whose answers he could not but conclude, that they 
were much nearer the church of Rome, than some 
of us young men were. 

Stillingfleet had a little before this time published 
a book of the idolatry and fanaticism of the church 
of Rome. Upon that the duke said, he asked Shel- 
don, if it was the doctrine of the church of England, 
that Roman catholics were idolaters : who answered 
him, it was not ; but that young men of parts would 
be popular ; and such a charge was the way to it. 
He at that time shewed me the duchess's paper, '■'. 
that has been since printed : it was aU writ with her 
own hand. He gave me leave to read it twice over : 
but would not suffer me to copy it. And upon th6 
mention made in it of her having spoke to the bishops 
concerning some of her scruples, and that she had 
such answers from them, as confirmed and height- 
ened them, I went from him to Morley, as was said 

"were, I hope God would give " upon mature consideration, 

" me his grace to suffer death " and foreseeing all and worse 

" for the true catholic religion " than has yet happened to 

" as banishment. What I have " me." D. 

" done was not hastily, but '^'•* 


1673. formerly, and had from him the answer there set 

I carried down '. I asked the duke's leave to bring doctor 
ilSeefto StiUingfleet to him. He was averse to it ; and said, 
him. it would make much noise, and could do no good. 
I told him, even the noise would have a good effect : 
it would shew he was not so obstinate, but that he 
was willing to hear our divines. I pressed it much ; 
for it became necessary to me, on my own account, to 
clear my self from the suspicion of popery, which 
this extraordinary favour had drawn upon me. I at 
last prevailed with the duke to consent to it : and 
he assigned an hour of audience. StiUingfleet went 
very readily, though he had no hopes of success. 
We were about two hours with him, and went over 
most of the points of controversy. StiUingfleet 
thought, the point that would go the easiest, and be 
the best understood by him, was the papal preten- 
sions to a power over princes, in deposing them, and 
giving their dominions to others'^ : and u23on that, 
he shewed him, that popery was calculated to make 
the pope the sovereign of aU Christendom. The 
359 duke shifted the discourse from one point to an- 
other; and did not seem to beUeve the matters of 
fact, and history aUeged by us. So we desired, he 
would caU for some priests, and hear us discourse 
of those matters with them in his presence. He de- 
clined this ; and said, it would make a noise. He 
assured us, he desii-ed nothing, but to foUow his own 
conscience, which he imposed on no body else, and 

' (Page 309.) second's excommunication of 

^^ The kingdom of Navare has king John, for being in confe- 

been held by the crown of Spain, deracy with Lewis the Xllth of 

ever since the year 15 12, by no France, upon which Ferdinand 

other title than pope Julius the the catholic took possession. D. 


that he would never attempt to alter the established 1673. 
religion. He loved to repeat this often. But 
when I was alone with him, I warned him of the 
great difficulties his religion was like to cast him 
into. This was no good argument to make him 
change : but it was certainly a very good argument 
to make him consider the matter so well, that he 
might be sure he was in the right. He objected to 
me the doctrine of the church of England in the 
point of submission, and of passive obedience. I 
told him, there was no trusting to a disputable 
opinion : there were also distinctions and reserves, 
even in those who had asserted these points the 
most: and it was very certain, that when men saw 
a visible danger of being first undone, and then 
burnt, they would be inclined to the shortest way of 
arguing, and to save themselves the best way they 
could : interest and self-preservation were powerful 
motives. He did very often assure me, he was 
against all violent methods, and all persecution for 
conscience sake, and was better furnished to speak 
well on that head, than on any other. I told him, 
all he could say that way would do him little ser- 
vice : for the words of princes were looked on as 
arts to lay men asleep : and they had generally re- 
garded them so little themselves, that they ought 
not to expect that others should have great regard 
to them. I added, he was now of a religion, in 
which others had the keeping of his conscience, who 
would now hide from him this point of their reli- 
gion, since it was not safe to own it, till they had it 
in their power to put it in practice : and whenever 
that time should come, I was sure, that the princi- 
ples of their church must carry him to all the ex- 


1673. tremities of extirpation. I carried a volume of judge 
Crook's to him, in which it is reported, that king 
James had once in council complained of a slander 
cast on him, as if he was inclined to change his re- 
ligion; and had solemnly vindicated himself from 
the imputation ; and prayed, that if any should ever 
spring out of his loins that should maintain any 
other religion than that which he truly maintained 
and professed, that God would take him out of the 
world. He read it : but it made no impression. 
And when I urged him wdth some things in his fa- 
ther's book, he gave me the account of it that was 
formerly mentioned'. He entered into great free- 
dom with me about all his affairs : and he shewed 
me the journals he took of business every day with 
360 his own hand : a method, he said, that the earl of 
Clarendon had set him on. The duchess had begun 
to write his life. He shewed me a part of it in a 
thin volume in folio. I read some of it, and found 
it writ with a great deal of spirit. He told me, he 
intended to trust me with his journals, that I might 
draw a history out of them. And thus, in a few 
weeks' time, I had got far into his confidence. He 
did also aUow me to speak to him of the irregulari- 
ties of his life, some of which he very freely con- 
fessed : and when I urged him, how such a course 
of life did agree with the zeal he shewed in his re- 
ligion ; he answered. Must a man be of no religion, 
unless he is a saint ? Yet he bore my freedom very 
gently, and seemed to like me the better for it. My 
favour with him grew to be the observation of the 
whole court. Lord Ancram said, I might be what 

'(Page 51.) 


I pleased, if I would be a little softer in the points 1673. 
of religion. Sir Ellis Leightoun brought me a mes- 
sage from F. Sheldon, and some of his priests, assur- 
ing me, they heard so well of me, that they offered 
me their service. He pressed me to improve my 
present advantages to the making my fortune : the 
see of Durham was then vacant : and he was confi- 
dent it would be no hard matter for me to compass 
it. But I had none of those views, and so was not 
moved by them. The duke of Buckingham asked 
me, what I meant in being so much about the duke ? 
If I fancied I could change him in point of religion, 
I knew him and the world very little : if I had a 
mind to raise my self, a sure method for that was, 
to talk to him of the reformation, as a thing done in 
heat and haste, and that in a calmer time it might 
be fit to review it all. He said, I needed go no far- 
ther ; for such an intimation would certainly raise 
me. And when I was positive not to enter into 
such a compliance, he told me, he knew courts bet- 
ter than I did : princes thought their favours were 
no ordinary things : they expected great submis- 
sions in return : otherwise they thought they were 
despised : and I would feel the ill effects of the fa- 
vour I then had, if I did not strike into some com- 
pliances : and, since I was resolved against these, he 
advised me to withdraw from the court ; the sooner 
the better. I imputed this to his hatred of the 
duke : but I found afterwards the advice was sound 
and good. I likewise saw those things in the duke's 
temper, from which I concluded, I could not main- 
tain an interest in him long. He was for subjects 
submitting in all things to the king's notions ; and 
thought, that all who opposed him or his ministers 


1673. in parliament, were rebels in their hearts; and he 

hated all popular things, as below the dignity of a 

king. He was much sharpened at that time by the 

proceedings of the house of commons. 

The duke's jjj ^jig former session, it was known that he was 

marriage ^ , 

opposed by treating a mamage with the archduchess : and yet 
mons. no address was made to the king to hinder his mar- 
361 rying a papist. His honour was not then engaged : 
so it had been seasonable, and to good purpose, to 
have moved in it then. But now he was mari-ied 
by proxy, and lord Peterborough had brought the 
lady to Paris '. Yet the house of commons resolved 
to follow the pattern the king of France had lately 
set. He treated with the elector palatine for a mar- 
riage between his brother and the elector's daughter; 
in which one of the conditions agreed to was, that 
she should enjoy the freedom of her religion, and 
have a private oratory for the exercise of it. When 
she came on her way as far as Metz, an order was 
sent to stop her, till she was better instructed : upon 
which she changed, at least as to outward appear- 
ance. It is true, the court of France gave it out 
that the elector had consented to this method, for 
the saving his own honour. And he had given the 
world cause to believe he was capable of that, though 
he continued openly to deny it. The house of com- 
mons resolved to follow this precedent, and to make 
an address to the king, to stop the princess of Mo- 
dena's coming to England, till she should change 

' He went first to see a ridiculous description he sent 

daughter of the duke of New- of her person, which conchided, 

bourg, (who was afterwards that there was nothing white 

married to the emperor Leo- about her but her eyes. D. 
pold,) but ,tliat dropt upon a 


her religion. Upon this the duke moved the king 1673. 
to prorogue the parliament for a week : and a com- 
mission was ordered for it. The duke went to the 
house on that day, to press the calling up the com- 
mons before they could have time to go on to busi- 
ness. Some peers were to be brought in. The duke 
pressed lord Shaftsbury to put that off, and to pro- 
rogue the parliament. He said coldly to him, there 
was no haste. But the commons made more haste : 
for they quickly came to a vote for stopping the 
marriage. And by this means they were engaged 
^having put such an affront on the duke) to proceed 
farther. He presently told me how the matter went, 
and how the lord chancellor had used him : he was 
confident the king would take the seals from him, if 
he could not manage the sessions so as to procure 
him money, of which there was indeed small appear- 
ance. I told him, I looked on that as a fatal thing, 
if the commons began once to affront him : that 
would have a sad train of consequences, as soon as 
they thought it necessary for their own preservation 
to secure themselves from falling under his revenges. 
He said, he was resolved to stand his ground, and 
to submit to the king in every thing: he would 
never take off an fenemy : but he would let aU the 
world see, that he was ready to forgive every one, 
that should come off from his opposition, and make 
applications to him. When the week of the proro- 
gation was ended, the session was opened by a 
speech of the king's, which had such various strains 
in it, that it was plain it was made by different per- 
sons. The duke told me, that lord Clarendon, dur-362 
ing his favour, had penned all the king's speeches ; 
but that now they were composed in the cabinet. 


J 673. one minister putting in one period, while another 

made another ; so that aU was not of a piece. He 
told me, lord Arlington was almost dead with fear : 
but lord Shaftsbury reckoned himself gone at court, 
and acted more roundly. In his speech he studied 
to correct his Delenda est Carthago, applying it to 
the Loevestein party, whom he called the Carthagin- 
ians : but this made him as ridiculous, as the other 
had made him odious'^. The house of commons 
took up again the matter of the duke's marriage, 
and moved for an address about it. But it was 
said, the king's honour was engaged. Yet they ad- 
dressed to him against it. But the king made them 
no answer. By that time I had obtained a licence 
of secretary Coventry for my book, which the king 
said should be printed at his charge. 
A pariia- - But uow I must give an account of a storm raised 
SiMd. against my self, the effects of which were very sen- 
sible to me for many years. The duke of Lauder- 
dale had kept the Scotish nation in such a depend- 
ance on himself, that he was not pleased with any 
of them that made any acquaintance in England, 
and least of aU in the court : nor could he endure 
that any of them should apply themselves to the 
king or the duke, but through him. So he looked 
on the favour I had got into with a very jealous eye. 
His duchess questioned me about it. Those who 
know what court jealousies are will easily believe, 
that I must have said somewhat to satisfy them, or 
break with them. I told her, what was very true 

^ He always denied these to couneil, and he obliged by or- 

be his own words, and said der to put them into the 

they were proposed by some speech he made to the parlia- 

pther persons of the king's ment, in the former sessions. O. 


as to the duke, that my conversation with him was 1673. 
about religion ; and that with the king I had talked 
of the course of life he led. I observed a deep jea* 
lousy of me in them both; especially because I 
could not go with them to Scotland. I said, I 
would follow, as soon as the secretary would des- 
patch me. And as soon as that was done I took 
post, and by a great fall of snow was stopped by the 
way. But I unhappily got to Edenburgh the night 
before the parliament met. Duke Hamilton, and 
many others, told me how strangely duke Lauder- 
dale talked of my interest at court; as if I was 
ready to turn papist. Duke Hamilton also told me, 
they were resolved next day to attack duke Lauder- 
dale, and his whole administration in parliament. 
I was troubled at this ; and argued with him against 
the fitness of it all I could. But he said he was en- . 
gaged : the earls of Rothes, Argile, and Tweedale, 
and all the cavalier party, had promised to stick by 
him. I told him, what afterwards happened, that 
most of these would make their own terms, and 
leave him in the lurch ' : and the load would lie on 
him. When I saw the thing was past remedy, I re- 
solved to go home, and follow my studies ; since 1 363 
could not keep duke Lauderdale and him any longer 
in a good understanding. 

Next day, when the parliament was opened, the a party 
king's letter was read, desiring their assistance in against 
carrying on the war with Holland, and assuring 
them of his affection to them in very kind words. 
This was seconded by duke Lauderdale in a long 
speech. And immediately it was moved to appoint 

' True sublime. S. '' 



1673. a committee to prepare an answer to the king's let- 
" ter, as was usual. Duke Hamilton moved, that the 
state of the nation might be first considered, that so 
they might see what grievances they had : and he 
hinted at some. And then, as it had been laid, 
about twenty men, one after another, spoke to se- 
veral particulars. Some mentioned the salt, others 
the tobacco and the brandy : some complained of 
the administration of justice, and others of the coin. 
With this the duke of Lauderdale was struck, as 
one dead; for he had raised his credit at court by 
the opinion of his having all Scotland in his hand, 
and in a dependance on him : so a discovery of this 
want of credit with us he saw must sink him there. 
He had not looked for this ; though I had warned 
him of a great deal of it. But he reflecting on that, 
and on the credit I had got at court, and on the 
haste I made in my journey, and my coming criti- 
cally the night before the session opened : he laid all 
this together, and fancied I was sent upon design, 
as the agent of the party, and that the licensing my 
book was only a blind : he believed sir Robert Mur- 
ray had laid it, and that the earl of Shaftsbury had 
r managed it. And because it was a common artifice 
of king Charles's ministers, to put the miscarriage of 
affairs upon some accident that had not been fore- 
seen by them, but should be provided against for 
the future ; he assured the king, that I had been 
• the incendiary, that I had my uncle's temper in me, 
and that I must be subdued, otherwise I would em- 
broil all his affairs. The king took all things of 
that kind easily from his ministers, without hearing 
any thing to the contrary : for he was wont to say, 
aU apologies were lies : upon which one said to him 

..; .J or 


once, then he would always believe the first lie. 1673. 
But all this was much increased, when duke Lau- 
derdale upon his coming up told the king, that I 
had boasted to his wife of the freedom that I had 
used with him upon his course of life. With this 
the king was highly offended : or at least he made 
much use of it, to justify many haid things that he 
said of me : and for many years he allowed himself 
a very free scope in talking of me. I was certainly 
to blame for the freedom I had used with the duch- 
ess of Lauderdale : but I was surprised by her ques- 
tion : and I could not bring my self to tell a lie : so 
I had no other shift ready to satisfy her. But the 
duke [of York] kept up still a very good opinion of 
me. I went home to Glasgow, where I prosecuted 364 
my studies tiU the June following, when I went 
again to London. 

Duke Lauderdale put off the session of parliament He offers 

to redress 

for some time ; and called a council, in which he grievances 
said, great complaints had been made in parliament "* *^""°" ' 
of grievances : he had full authority to redress them 
all in the king's name: therefore he charged the 
privy counsellors to lay aU things of that kind before 
that board, and not to carry them before any other 
assembly, till they saw what redress was to be had 
there. Duke Hamilton said, the regular way of 
complaints was to make them in parliament, which 
only could redress them effectually ; since the put- 
ting them down by the authority of council was 
only laying them aside for a while, till a fitter op- 
portunity was found to take them up again. Upon 
this, duke Lauderdale protested that he was ready 
in the king's name to give the subject ease and free* 

D 2 


1673. dom, and that those who would not assist and con- 
" ' CUT with him in this were wanting in duty and re- 
spect to the king; and since he saw the matter of 
the salt, the tobacco, and the brandy, had raised 
much clamour, he would quash these. But the 
party had a mind to have the instruments of their 
oppression punished, as well as the oppression it self 
removed; and were resolved to have these things 
condemned by some exemplary punishments, and to 
pursue duke Lauderdale and his party with this cla- 

1674. Next session of parliament new complaints were 
raisedTbout offered. Duke Lauderdale said, these ought to be 
of ^the'^ar- ^ladc first to the lords of the articles, to whom all 
tides. petitions and motions ought to be made first; and 
that they were the only judges, what matters were 
» fit to be brought into parliament. The other side 

said, they were only a committee of parliament, to 
put motions into the form of acts ; but that the par- 
liament had still an entire authority to examine into 
the state of the nation. In this debate, they had 
the reason of things on their side : but the words of 
the act favoured duke Lauderdale. So he lodged it 
now where he wished it might be, in a point of pre- 
rogative. He valued himself to the king on this, 
that he had drawn the act that settled the power of 
the lords of the articles; who being all upon the 
matter named by the king, it was of great concern 
to him to maintain that, as the check upon factious 
spirits there ; which would be no sooner let go, than 
the parliament of Scotland would grow as unquiet, 
as a house of commons was in England : that was a 


consideration which at this time had great weight 1674. 
with the king. I now return to give an account of 
this year's session in England. 

In the beginning of it, the duke of Ormond, the The pm- 
earls of Shaftsbury and Arlington, and secretary the' paSa" 
Coventiy, offered an advice to the king, for sending E,^gfa",j 
the duke for some time from the court, as a good 365 
expedient both for himself and the duke. The king 
hearkened so far to it, that he sent them to move it 
to the duke. He was highly incensed at it : he 
said, he would obey aU the king's orders, but would 
look on those as his enemies who offered him such 
advices. And he never forgave this to any of them ; 
no, not to Coventry, for aU his good opinion of him. 
He pressed the king vehemently to take the seals 
from the earl of Shaftsbury. So it was done : and 
they were given to Finch, then attorney-general, 
made afterwards earl of Nottingham. He was a Finch's 
man of probity, and well versed in the laws : [but ^ 
very ill bred, and both vain and haughty.] He was 
long much admired for his eloquence : but it was la- 
boured and affected : and he saw it as much de- 
spised before he died. He had no sort of know- 
ledge in foreign affairs : and yet he loved to talk of 
them perpetually : by which he exposed himself to 
those who understood them. He thought he was 
bound to justify the court in all debates in the house 
of lords, which he did with the vehemence of a 
pleader, rather than with the solemnity of a senator. 
He was an incorrupt judge : and in his court he 
could resist the strongest applications even from the -C 
king himself, though he did it no where else. He 
was too eloquent on the bench, in the house of lords, 
and [even] in common conversation [that eloquence 

D 3 


1674. became in him ridiculous.] One thing deserves to 

be remembered of him : he took great care of filling 
the church livings that belonged to the seal with 
worthy men : and he obliged them aU to residence ^. 
Lord Shaftsbury was now at liberty to open himself 
against the court; which he did with as little re- 
serve as decency. 

The house of commons were resolved to fall on 
aU the ministry. They began with duke Lauder- 
dale, and voted an address to remove him from the 
king's councils and presence for ever. They went 
next upon the duke of Buckingham : and it being 
moved, in his name, that the house would hear him, 
he was suffered to come to the house. The first 
day of his being before them, he fell into such a dis- 
order, that he pretended he was taken ill, and de- 
sired to be admitted again. Next day he was more 
composed. He justified his own designs, laying all 
the ill counsels upon others, chiefly on lord Arling- 
ton, intimating plainly that the root of all errors 
was in the king and the duke. He said, hunting 
was a good diversion, but if a man would hunt with 
a brace of lobsters, he would have but ill sport. He 
had used that figure to my self; but had then ap- 
plied it to prince Rupert and lord Arlington : but it 
was now understood to go higher. His speech sig- 
nified nothing towards the saving of himself: but it 
lost him the king's favour so entirely, that he never, 
recovered it afterwards. Lord Arlington was next 
attacked : he appeared also before the commons, and 
366 spoke much better than was expected : he excused 
himself, but without blaming the king : and this had 

"^ (See a character of this great man by duke Wharton, in the 
True Briton, No. 69.) ; 


so good an effect, that though he, as secretary of 1674. 
state, was more exposed than any other, by the 
many warrants and orders he had signed, yet he 
was acquitted, though by a small majority. But the 
care he took to preserve himself, and his success in 
it, lost him his high favour with the king, as the 
duke was out of measure offended at him : so he 
quitted his post, and was made lord chamberlain. 

The house of commons was resolved to force the 
king to a peace with the Dutch. The court of 
France recalled Croissy, finding that the duke was 
offended at his being led by lord Arlington. Rou- 
vigny was sent over : a man of great practice in bu- 
siness and in all intrigues. He was still a firm pro- 
testant, but in all other respects a very dexterous 
courtier, and one of the greatest statesmen in Eu- 
rope. He had the appointments of an ambassador, 
but would not take the character, that he might not 
have a chapel, and mass said in it. Upon his com- 
ing over, as he himself told me, he found all the 
ministers of the allies were perpetually plying the 
membei-s of the house of commons with their memo- 
rials. He knew he could gain nothing on them : so 
he never left the king. The king was in great p^r- a peace 
plexity : he would have done any thing, and parted ^uh "he 
with any persons, if that would have procured him^'****' 
money for carrying on the war. But he saw little 
appearance of that. He found he was indeed at the 
mercy of the States. So lord Arlington pressed the 
Spanish ministers to prevail with the States, and the 
prince of Orange, to get a proposition for a peace to 
be set on foot. And that it might have some shew 
of a peace both begged and bought, he proposed 
that a sum of money should be offered the king by 

D 4 


1674. the States, which should be made over by him to 
the prince for the payment of the debt he owed him. 
Rouvigny pressed the king much to give his parlia- 
ment all satisfaction in points of religion. The king 
answered him, if it was not for his brother's folly, 
{jia sottise de mon frere,) he would get out of all 
his difl&culties. Rouvigny drew a memorial for in- 
forming the house of commons of the modesty of his 
master's pretensions : for now the French king was 
sensible of his errors, in making such high demands 
as he had made at Utrecht ; and was endeavouring 
to get out of the war on easier terms. The States 
committed a great error in desiring a peace with 
England, without desiring at the same time that the 
king should enter into the alliance, for reducing the 
French to the terms of the triple alliance. But the 
prince of Orange thought, that if he could once se- 
parate the king from his alliance with France, the 
other point would be soon brought about. And the 
States were much set on the having a peace with 
367 England, hoping then both to be freed of the great 
trouble of securing the coast at a vast charge, and 
also by the advantage of their fleet to ruin the trade, 
and to insult the coast of France. The States did 
this winter confer a new and extraordinary dignity 
on the prince of Orange. They made him heredit- 
ary stadtholder. So that this was entailed on him 
and his issue male. He had in a year and a half's 
time changed the whole face of their affairs. He 
had not only taken Naerden, which made Amster- 
dam easy : but by a very bold undertaking he had 
gone up the Rhine to Bon, and had taken it in a 
very few days : and in it had cut off the supplies 
that the French sent down to their garrisons on the 


Rhine and the Isel. So that the French finding 1674. 
they could not subsist longer there, were now re- 
solved to evacuate all those places, and the three 
provinces of which they were possessed ; which they 
did a few months after. An alliance was also made 
with the emperor. And by this means both the 
elector of Cologn and the bishop of Munster were 
brought to a peace with the States. The elector of 
Brandenburgh was likewise returning to the alliance 
with the States : for in the treaty, to which he was 
forced to submit, with Turenne for a truce of a 
year, he had put an article, reserving to himself a 
liberty to act in concurrence with the empire, ac- 
cording to such resolutions as should be taken in the 
diet. This change of the affairs of the States had 
got the prince of Orange the affections of the people 
to such a degree, that he could have obtained every 
thing of them that he would have desired : and even 
the loss of so important a place as Maestricht was 
not at all charged on him. So he brought the 
States to make applications to the king in the style 
of those who begged a peace, though it was visible 
they could have forced it. In conclusion, a project 
of a peace with England was formed, or rather the 
peace of Breda was writ over again, with the offer 
of 2 or 300,000/. for the expense of the war. And 
the king signed it at lord Arlington's office. 

He came up immediately into the drawing-room ; 
where seeing Rouvigny, he took him aside, and told 
him, he had been doing a thing that went more 
against his heart than the losing of his right hand : 
he had signed a peace with the Dutch, the project 
being brought him by the Spanish ambassador : he 
saw nothing could content the house of commons, or 


1674. draw money from them ; and lord Arlington had 
pressed him so hard, that he had stood out tiQ he was 
weary of his life : he saw it was impossible for him 
to carry on the war without supplies, of which it 
The king was plain he could have no hopes. Rouvigny told 
mediator of him, what was done could not be helped : but he 
e peace, ^^y]^^ ^et him scc how faithfully he would serve 
him on this occasion : he did not doubt but his 
master would submit all his pretensions to him, and 
make him the arbiter and mediator of the peace. 
368 This the king received with great joy ; and said, it 
would be the most acceptable service that could be 
done him. The French resolved uj)on this to ac- 
cept of the king's mediation. And so the king got 
out of the war, very little to his honour, having 
both engaged in it upon unjust grounds, and ma- 
naged it all along with ill conduct and bad success : 
and now he got out of it in so poor and so disho- 
nourable a manner, that with it he lost his credit 
both at home and abroad. Yet he felt little of aU 
this. He and his brother were now at their ease. 
Upon this, the parliament was quickly prorogued : 
and the court delivered itself up again to its ordi- 
nary course of sloth and luxury. But lord Arling- 
ton, who had brought all this about, was so entirely 
lost by it, that though he knew too much of the 
secret to be iU used", yet he could never recover 
the ground he had lost. 
The duch- The duchcss of York came over that winter. She 

ess s cha- 
racter, was then very young, about sixteen, but of a fuU 

growth. She was a graceful person, with a good 

measure of beauty, and so much wit and cunning, 

" He was in that of the king's conversion to popery. O. 


that during all this reign she behaved herself in so ^674. 
obliging a manner, and seemed so innocent and 
good, that she gained upon all that came near her, 
and possessed them with such impressions of her, 
that it was long before her behaviour after she was 
a queen could make them change their thoughts of 
her. So artificially did this young Italian behave 
herself, that she deceived even the eldest and most 
jealous persons, both in the court and country. 
Only sometimes a satirical temper broke out too 
much, which was imputed to youth and wit not 
enough practised to the world. She avoided the 
appearances of a zealot, or a meddler in business ; 
and gave herself up to innocent cheerfulness ; and 
was universally esteemed and beloved as long as she 
was duchess. 

She had one put about her to be her secretary, ^'"'eman's 

, , . "^ character. 

Coleman ; who became so active in the affairs of the 
party, and ended his life so unfortunately, that since 
I had much conversation with him, his circum- 
stances may deserve that his character should be 
given, though his person did not. I was told he 
was a clergyman's son : but he was early catched 
by the Jesuits, and bred many years among them. 
He understood the art of managing controversies, 
chiefly that great one of the authority of the church, 
better than any of their priests. He was a bold 
man, resolved to raise himself, which he did by de- 
dicating himself wholly to the Jesuits : and so he 
was raised by them. He had a great easiness in 
writing in several languages ; and writ many long 
letters, and was the chief correspondent the party 
had in England. He lived at a vast expense. And 
talked in so positive a manner, that it looked like 


1674. one who knew he was weU supported. I soon saw 
into his temper ; and I warned the duke of it" : for 
I looked on him, as a man much liker to spoil busi-» 
369 ness, than to carry it on dexterously. He got into 
the confidence of P. Ferrier the king of France's 
confessor; and tried to get intq the same pitch of 
confidence with P. de la Chaise, who succeeded him 
in that post. He went about every where, even to 
the jails among the criminals, to make proselytes. 
He dealt much both in the giving and taking of 
bribes. But now the affaii's of England were calmed, 
I look again to Scotland, which was yet in a storm. > 
The affairs The kiuff writ to dukc Hamilton to come up. 

of Scotland. " , ^ 

And when he and lord Tweedale arrived, they were 
so well received, that they hoped to carry their 
point. But the king's design in this was, that, if 
he could have brought the house of commons to 
have given money, he was resolved to have parted 
with duke Lauderdale, and have employed them. 
And his kind usage of them was on design to per- 
suade the commons to use himself better, by shew- 
ing that he was ready to comply with them. He 
gave them so good a hearing, that they thought 
they had fully convinced him : and he blamed them 
only for not complaining to himself of those griev-" 
ances. But, as soon as he saw it was to no purpose 
to look for money from the house of commons, and 
had signed the peace, he sent them down with fuU 
assurances that all things should be left to the judg- 
ment of the parliament. They came down through 
the greatest faU of snow that has been in all my 
The pariia- Hfe-timc. When they got home, instead of a ses- 

ment was •/ o ' 

^ " ' ° Was it for the good of the shop gave the duke this wami^ 
protestant religion, that the bi- ing? D. yAitJ 


sion, there was an order for a prorogation ; which 1674. 
gave such an universal discontent, that many of- 
fered at very extravagant propositions, for destroy- 
ing duke Lauderdale and all his party. Duke Ha- 
milton, who told me this some years after, when an 
act of grace was published, was neither so bad nor 
so bold as to hearken to these. The king writ him 
a cajoling letter, desiring him to come up once 
more, and to refer all matters to him : and he as- 
sured him, he would make up all differences. 

In the mean while duke Lauderdale took aU pos- 
sible methods to become more popular. He con- 
nived at the insolence of the presbyterians, who 
took possession of one of the vacant churches of 
Edenburgh, and preached in it for some months. 
The earl of Argile and sir James Dabimple were 
the men on whom the presbyterians depended most. 
Duke Lauderdale returned to his old kindness with 
the former : and lord Argile was very ready to for- 
get his late unkindness. So matters were made up 
between them. Dalrimple was the president of the Dairimpie's 

. character. 

session, a man 01 great temper, and of a very mild 
deportment, but [a false and cunning man p, and a 
great per vert er of justice : in which he had a parti- 
cular dexterity of giving some plausible colours to 
the greatest injustice. This family has risen the 
fastest, and yet has had the greatest misfortunes of 
any in Scotland. His eldest son, the viscount of 
Stairs, rode over a child, and dashed out his brains ; 
and he had two sons, who, in their play, found and 
charged a pistol, with which the one shot the other 
dead. Another of the president's sons, being in = a 

P (The printed copy had, instead of this long passage, a cun- 
_nmg man. He was, &c.) 


1674. fever, snatched at somewhat that lay by him, and 
swallowed it down, which proved to be cantharides, 
intended for a viscatory plaister ; with which he 
was ulcerated all within, and died in extreme mi- 
sery : another of his sons, in a fit, fell into the fire, 
which burnt out half his face. His daughters have 
had extraordinary fits, in which they have jumped 
over high waUs : and one of them died in an odd 
manner. These things occasioned much censure 
and many strange discourses. This man] was now 
taken into the chief confidence. He told the pres- 
byterians, if they would now support duke Lauder- 
dale, this would remove the prejudice the king had 
against them, as enemies to his service. This 
wrought on many of them. What influence soever 
The clergy this might havc on the presbyterians, the strange 

was much .,,. , iiii 

provoked, couduct With relation to them provoked the clergy 
^'^out of measure. Some hot men, that were not pre- 
ferred as they thought they deserved, grew very 
mutinous, and complained that things were let fall 
into much confusion. And they raised a grievous 
outcry for the want of a national synod to regulate 
our worship and government : and so moved in the 
diocesan synods, that a petition should be offered to 
the privy council, setting forth the necessity of hav- 
ing a national synod. I liked no part of this. I 
knew the temper of our clergy too well to depend 
much on them. Therefore I went out of the way 
on purpose when our synod was to meet. Petitions 
were offered for a national synod, which was thought 
an innocent thing. Yet, it being done on design to 
heighten the fermentation the kingdom was in, great 
exceptions were taken to it. One bishop, and four 
of the clergy, were turned out by an order from the 


king, pursuant to the act asserting the supremacy. 1674. 
After a year, upon their submission, they were re- 
stored. Though I was not at all concerned in this, 
(for I was ever of Nazianzen's opinion, who never 
wished to see any more synods of the clergy ^,) yet 
the king was made believe, that I had laid the whole 
matter, even though I did not appear in any part 
of it. 

Another disorder broke out, which had greater a great dis- 

traction in 

effects. A cause being judged in the supreme court Scotland, 
of session, the party appealed to the parliament. 
This was looked on as a high contempt, done on 
design to make the parliament a court of judicature, 
that so there might be a necessity of frequent par- 
liaments. So the judges required all the lawyers to 
condemn this, as contrary to law. And they had 
the words of a law on their side : for there lay no 
such appeal as stopped process, nor was there a 
writ of error in their law : but upon petitions, par- 
liaments had, though but seldom, reviewed and re- 
versed the judgments of the courts. So the debate 
lay about the sense of the word appeal. Sir George 
Lockhart, brother to the ambassador, was the most 
learned lawyer and the best pleader I have ever 
yet known in any nation ; [he was a covetous, a pas- 
sionate, and an ambitious man ;] and he had all the 
lawyers almost in a dependance on him. He was 
engaged with the party, and resolved to stand it 
out. The king sent down an order to put all men 
from the bar that did not condemn appeals. And, 

<i Dog. S. (The times, which a zeal which ill suited the then 

Swift supposes the bishop to prevailing politics, and which 

reflect on, were times of virtu- occasioned a discontinuance of 

ous zeal against the unceasing the synodical meetings of the 

attacks of heresy and infidelity ; church of England.) 


1674. when that wrought not on them, they were by pro- 
clamation banished Edenburgh, and twelve miles 
about it : and a new day was assigned them for 
making their submission ; the king in a very un- 
usual style declaring, on the word of a prince, that, 
if they submitted not by that day, they should ne- 
ver be again admitted to their practice. -They stood 
it out : and the day lapsed without their submitting. 
Yet afterwards they renounced appeals in the sense 
of the Roman law : and, notwithstanding the un- 
usual threatening in the proclamation, they were 
371 again restored to practice. But this made a stop 
for a whole year in all legal proceedings. ' 

Lauder- The government of the city of Edenburgh was 

dale's pro- t c^ t ^ -r 

ceedings not SO Compliant as was expected. So duke Lau- 
derdale procured a letter from the king to turn out 
twelve of the chief magistrates, and to declare them 
for ever incapable of aU public trusts : so entirely 
had he forgot his complaints formerly made against 
incapacity, even when passed in an act of parlia- 
ment : [but he kept to the same number of twelve.] 
The boroughs of Scotland have by law a privilege 
of meeting once a year in a body, to consider of 
trade, and of bye-laws relating to it. At a conven- 
tion held this year, a petition was agreed on, and 
sent to the king, complaining of some late acts that 
hindered trade, for the repeal of which there was 
great need of a session of parliament : they there- 
fore prayed, that when the king sent down a com- 
missioner to hold a session, he might be instructed 
in order to that repeal. This was judged a legal 
thing by the lawyers there ; for this was a lawful 
assembly: they did not petition for a parliament, 
but only for instructions to the session. Yet it was 


condemned as seditious: and those who promoted 1674. 
it were fined and imprisoned for it. Thus duke 
Lauderdale was lifted up out of measure, and re- 
solved to crush all that stood in his way. He was 
made earl of Guildford in England \ and had a pen- 
sion of three thousand pounds : and he let himself 
loose into a very ungovemed fury. When duke 
Hamilton and some other lords came up, the king 
desired they would put their complaints in writing. 
They said, the laws were so oddly worded, and 
more oddly executed, in Scotland, that the modest- 
est paper they could offer might be condemned as 
leasing-making, and misrepresenting the king's pro- 
ceedings : so they would not venture on it. The 
king promised them, that no ill use should be made 
of it to their prejudice. But they did not think it 
safe to trust him ; for he seemed to be entirely deli- 
vered up to all duke Lauderdale's passions ^. 

It is no wonder then that I could not stand be- ^ ^^ "J's- 

• . graced. 

fore him ; though at my coming up, the duke of 
York received me with great kindness, and told me, 
how he had got out of great difficulties, and added, 
that the king was very firm to him : he commended 
likewise his new duchess much : he was troubled at 

*■ In the former session of Baronage, for the time of duke 

parliament it was often men- Lauderdale's being made an 

tioned in the house of com- English peer. O. 

mons to treat him as a com- » (Luing, in his History of 

nioner of England, and against Scotland, vol. iv. p. 71. relates, 

him as such (they) could do that their grievances were com- 

more, than against 'the other nmnicated to Charles by an 

ministers, who were peers of anonymous letter. The letter 

England. Gray's manuscript is to be found in a contempo- 

Debates in the House of Com- rarj' pamphlet, entitled, An Ac- 

mons, for somewhat of this, comptof Scotland's Grievances, 

in 1673, and 1675. They are by Reason of the Duke of Lau- 

now printed. See Dugdale's derdale's Ministrie, p. 33 — 37.) 



1674. our disorders : he was firm to duke Lauderdale : but 
he would have endeavoured to reconcile matters, if 
there had been room for it. He told me, the king 
was highly incensed against me ; and was made be- 
lieve, that I was the chief spring of aU that had 
happened : he himself believed me more innocent ; 
and said, he would endeavour to set me right with 
him : and he carried me to the king, who received 
me coldly. Some days a,fter, when the duke was a 
hunting, the lord chamberlain told me, he had or- 
ders to strike my name out of the list of the chap- 
lains ; and that the king forbade me the court, and 
372 expected I should go back to Scotland. The duke 
seemed troubled at this, and spoke to the king about 
it : but he was positive. Yet he admitted me to say 
to him what I had to offer in my own justification. 
I said all that I thought necessary ; and appealed to 
duke Hamilton, who did me justice in it. But the 

■ u ^ ! ' king said, he was afraid I had been too busy ' ; and 
wished me to go home to Scotland, and be more 
quiet. The duke upon this told me, that, if I went 
home without reconciling my self to duke Lauder- 
dale, I should be certainly shut up in a close prison, 
where I might perhaps lie too long. This I looked 
on as a very high obUgation : so I resigned my 
employment, and resolved to stay in England. I 
preached in many of the churches of London ; and 
was so well received, that it was probable I might 
be accepted of in any that was to be disposed of by 
a popular election ". So a church falling to be given 
in that way, the electors had a mind to choose me : 
but yet they were not willing to offend the court. The 

*■ The king knew him right. S, " Much to his honour. S. 


duke spoke to duke Lauderdale, and told him that 1674. 
he had a mind I should be settled in London, and 
desired he would not oppose it. Duke Lauderdale 
said, all this was a trick of the party in Scotland, to 
settle me, that I might be a correspondent between 
the factions in both kingdoms. Yet, upon the 
duke's undertaking that I should not meddle in 
those matters, he was contented that the king 
should let the electors know he was not against 
their choosing me. Upon this duke Lauderdale, 
seeing what a root I had with the duke, sent a 
message to me, that, if I would promise to keep 
no farther correspondence with duke Hamilton, I 
should again be restored to his favour. I said, I 
had promised the duke to meddle no more in Scot- 
ish affairs : but I could not forsake my friends, nor 
turn against them. By this he judged I was in- 
flexible. So he carried a story to the king the very 
night before the election, that upon inquiry was 
found to be false, when it was too late to help what 
was done. Upon that, the king sent a severe mes- 
sage to the electors. So I missed that. And some 
time after a new story was invented, of which Sharp 
was indeed the author, by which the king was made 
believe that I was possessing both lords and com- 
mons against duke Lauderdale. Upon that, the 
king ordered Coventry to command me to leave 
London, and not to come within twenty miles of it. 
The duke told me what the particulars were, which 
were all false : for lord Falconbridge and lord Car- 
lisle were the lords into whom it was said I was 
infusing those prejudices. Now I was known to 
neither of them ; for, though they had desired my 

E 2 


1674. acquaintance, I had declined it. So I told all this 
to secretary Coventry, who made report of it to the 
king in the duke's presence : and those lords justi- 
fied me in the matter. I hoped the king would 
upon all this recall his order. But he would not do 
373 it. So I asked to have it in writing. The secretary 
knew it was against law: so he would not do it. 
But I was forbid the court. The duke brought 
duke Lauderdale and me once together, to have 
made us friends. But nothing would do, unless I 
would forsake all my friends, and discover secrets. 
I said, I knew no wicked ones: and I could not 
break with persons with whom I had Hved long in 
great friendship. The duke spoke to the lord trea- 
surer, to soften duke Lauderdale with relation to 
me ; and sent me to him. He undertook to do it ; 
but said afterwards, duke Lauderdale was intract- 

This violent and groundless prosecution lasted 
some months. And during that time I said to 
some, that duke Lauderdale had gone so far in 
opening some wicked designs to me, that I per- 
ceived he could not be satisfied unless I was un- 
done. So I told what was mentioned before of the 
discourses that passed between him and me ''. This 
I ought not to have done, since they were the ef- 
fects of confidence and friendship. But such a 
course of provocation might have heated a cooler 
and elder man than I was, being then but thirty, to 
forget the caution that I ought to have used. The 
persons who had this from me, resolved to make 

« A Scotch dog. S. 


use of it against him, in the next session of parlia- 1674. 
ment : for which the earl of Danby and he were 
preparing, by turning to new methods. 

Lord Danby set up to be the patron of the church ^he minis- 

•' ^ *■ ters turned 

party and of the old cavaliers : and duke Lauder- to the 
dale joined himself to him. It was said, the king party, 
had all along neglected his best and surest friends : 
so a new measure was taken up, of doing all pos- 
sible honours to the memory of king Charles I. and 
to all that had been in his interests. A statue of • 
brass on horseback, that had been long neglected, 
was bought, and set up at Charing Cross : and a 
magnificent funeral was designed for him. The 
building of St. Paul's in London was now set on 
foot with great zeal. Morley and some of the bi- 
shops were sent for : and the new ministry settled 
a scheme with them, by which it was offered to 
crush all the designs of popery. The ministers ex- 
pressed a great zeal in this ; and openly accused all 
the former ministers for neglecting it so long. But, 
to excuse this to the duke, they told him, it was a 
great misfortune, that the church pai'ty and the dis- 
senters were now run into one; that the church 
party must have some content given them ; and 
then a test was to be set on foot, that should for 
ever shut out all dissenters, who were an implacable 
sort of people. A declaration renouncing the law- 
fulness of resistance in any case whatsoever, and an 
engagement to endeavour no alteration in church or 
state, was designed to be a necessary qualification 
of aU that might choose or be chosen members of 
parliament. If this could be canied, the king's 
party would be for ever sepai'ated from the dis- 
senters, and be so much the more united to him. 

E 3 


1674. In order to this, it was necessary to put out severe 
o^j^ orders of council against all convicted or suspected 
papists. The duke acquainted me with this scheme. 
He disliked it much. He thought this would raise 
the church party too high. He looked on them as 
intractable in the point of popery. Therefore he 
thought, it was better to keep them under by sup- 
porting the papists. He looked on the whole pro- 
jet , as both knavish and foolish. And upon this 
he spoke severely of duke Lauderdale, who he saw 
would do any thing to save himself: he (Lauder- 
dale) had been all along in ill terms both with Shel- 
don and Morley : but now he reconciled himself to 
them : he brought Sharp out of Scotland, who went 
about assuring all people, that the party set against 
him was likewise set against the church. This, 
though notoriously false, passed for true among 
strangers. And, Leightoun coming up at the year's 
end to quit his archbishopric of Glasgow, Burnet 
had made such submissions that he was restored to 
it. So that wound, which had been given to epi- 
scopacy in his person, was now healed. And Leigh- 
toun retired to a private house in Sussex, where he 
lived ten years in a most heavenly manner, and 
with a shining conversation. So now duke Lau- 
derdale was at the head of the church party, 
corre- The court was somewhat disturbed with discove- 

spondence , • t 1 

with Hoi- nes that were made at this time. When sir Joseph 
vered.**"" Williamsou came back from Cologn, he secretly met 
with Wicquefort, who has published a work about 
ambassadors. He was the Dutch secretary, that 
translated the intelligence that came from England. 
And sometimes the originals were left in his hands. 
Williamson prevailed with him to deliver these to 


him. Most of them were writ by the lord Howard's 1674. 
brother, who upon his brother's death was after- 
ward's lord Howard. He was a man of wit and 
learning, bold and poor, who had run through many 
parties in religion. In Cromwell's time he was re- 
baptized, and had preached in London. He set up 
in opposition to Cromwell, as a great common- 
wealth's man, and did some service in the restora- 
tion. But he was always poor, and ready to engage 
in any thing that was bold. He went over in the 
beginning of the war, and offered to serve De Wit. 
But he told me, he found him a dry man. As soon 
as the prince was raised, he waited on him and on 
Fagel ; and undertook not only to send them good 
intelligence, but to make a great party for them. 
He pressed the prince to make a descent on Eng- 
land, only to force the king to call a parliament, 
and to be advised by it. And he drew such a ma- 
uifestOf as he believed would be acceptable to the 
nation. He, and one of the Du Moulins, that was 
in lord Arlington's oflfice, joined together, and gave 
the States very good intelligence. Du Moulin, fear- 
ing that he was discovered, took the alarm in time, 
and got beyond sea. Most of the papers that Wic- 
quefort delivered were of Howard's writing. So 
upon his examination in the Tower, it appeared 375 
they had his letters against him. And, when notice 
was sent of this to Holland, Wicquefort was called 
on to bring before them all the original letters that 
were trusted to him. And upon his not doing it, 
he was clapt up. And the States sent word to the 
king, that, if any person suffered in England on the 
account of the letters betrayed by him, his head 
should go for it. Halewyn told me, when it was 

E 4 


1674. put to the judges to know what sort of crime this 

could be made, since the papers were given up after 
the peace was concluded, (otherwise the betraying 
the secrets of the state to enemies was a manifest 
crime,) they came to this resolution, that as by the 
Roman law every thing was made capital that was 
contra salutem populi Romania so the delivering 
up such papers was a capital crime. This threaten- 
ing saved Howard. But yet Wicquefort was kept 
very long in prison, and ruined by it. He had a 
sort of a character from one of the princes of Ger- 
many, upon which he insisted. But the States 
thought, that his coming into their service was the 
Jealousies throwiug up of that character. Upon this occasion 
prince of CaTstairs, mentioned in the year 1672, was sent over 
Orange. fj-Qu^ Holland to England. And he was seized on 
with a paper of instructions, that were drawn so 
darkly, that no wonder if they gave a jealousy of 
some ill designs then on foot. The prince said, 
when asked about it, that it was only meant for a 
dii-ection for carrying on the levies of some regi- 
ments that the king had allowed the Dutch to 
make in Scotland, which the king did the better to 
excuse his letting so many continue in the French 
service. Howsoever, mention being made of money 
to be paid, and of men to be raised, and a compli- 
ment being ordered to be made to duke Hamilton, 
this looked suspicious. Howard had confessed all 
he knew upon promise of pardon. So that and this 
laid together gave the court some apprehensions. 
Duke Lauderdale made use of it to heighten the 
king's iQ opinion of the party against him. And, 
because lieutenant-general Drummond was of all the 
military men he that had th^ best capacity and the 


greatest reputation, he moved that he might be se- 1674. 
cured. The method he took in doing it shewed 
that he neither suspected him nor regarded the law. 
The ancient method was to requu-e men to render Drummond 

was ordered 

themselves prisoners by such a day. This was a snare to prison. 
to many, who, though innocent, yet hating restraint, 
went out of the way, and were proceeded against in 
an outlawry : but an act of parliament had been 
made, condemning that method for the future. Yet 
duke Lauderdale resolved to follow it. And Drum- 
mond, knowing his innocence, rendered himself as 
required ; and was kept a year in a very cold and 
inconvenient prison at Dunbarton, on the top of a 
high rock. This, coming after a whole life of loyal- 
ty and zeal, was thought a very extraordinary re- 
wai'd to such high pretensions. 

One thing on this occasion may be fit to be told. 376 
Lord Kincardin had served duke Lauderdale faith- 
fully, even longer than he could do with a good con- 
science : for he had stuck to him, and was left by 
him with the king, when he went to Scotland, who 
knew weU with how much zeal he had supported 
his interest, and excused his faults. When duke 
Lauderdale was hotly pushed at, he then promised 
to all his friends, that he would avoid all former er- 
rors, if he got out of his trouble : and that made 
lord Kincardin so earnest to serve him. But, when 
he saw into how much fury he was running, he 
tried to have persuaded him to more temper; but 
found it was in vain. Then he confessed to me, 
that I had judged truer than he had done ; for I , j 

believed he would grow worse than ever. When 
lord Kincardin found he could not hinder things in 
private, he opposed them at council: and so they 


1674. broke with him. He came up to justify himself to 
the king, who minded those matters very little ; but 
thought it was necessary to give a full scope to duke 
Lauderdale's motions, who had told the king there 
was a spirit of rebellion that run through all sorts of 
people, and that was to be subdued by acts of power, 
though perhaps neither legal nor just : and when 
that evil spirit was once broken, then it would be fit 
to return to more legal and moderate counsels. So 
lord Kincardin found there was no arguing with the 
king upon particulars. Therefore he begged leave 
to stay some time at court, that he might not be 
obliged to oppose that, which the king was made 
believe his service required. The king consented to 
this; and upon all occasions used him very weU. 
Duke Lauderdale could not bear that, and pressed 
the king often to command him home ; which he 
refused to do. Once he urged it with much vehe- 
mence : and the king answered as positively, that 
he saw no reason for it, and he would not do it. 
Upon this he came home as in a fit of distraction, 
and was gathering together all his commissions to 
deliver them up to the king. Upon that the mar- 
quis of Athol, who was then in high favour with 
him, went to the king, and told him that he had 
Sent duke Lauderdale home half dead and half 
mad ; and begged the king to take pity on him. So 
the king sent a message to lord Kincardin, ordering 
him to go home. This lord Athol himself told me 
The battle Towards the end of summer the battle of SenefF 
was fought : in the beginning of which the French 
had a great advantage : but the prince of Cond^ 
pushed it too far : and the prince of Orange engaged 


the whole army with so much bravery, that it ap- 1674! 
peared that the Dutch army was now brought to 
another state than he had found it in. He charged 
himself in many places, with too great a neglect of 
his person, considering how much depended upon 
it. He once was engaged among a body of French, 377 
thinking they were his own men, and bid Chem 
charge : they told him they had no more powder : 
he, perceiving they were none of his men, with 
great presence of mind got out of their hands, and 
brought up a body of his army to charge them ; who 
quickly routed them. The action in the afternoon 
recovered the loss that was made in the morning ; 
and possessed all the world, the prince of Cond^ in 
particular, with a great esteem of the prince's con- 
duct and courage. I will say little of foreign af- 
fairs ; because there are many copious accounts of 
them in print ; and I can add little to them. With . 
relation to the battle of SenefF, the prince himself 
told me that the day before he saw a capuchin, that 
came over from the French army, and had a long 
conversation with Zouch, the emperor's general; 
who behaved himself so iU on the day of battle, that 
the prince said to his son at night, that his father 
had acted so basely, that, if it had not been for the 
respect he bore the emperor, he would have shot 
him through the head. He was disgraced on this. 
But the success of the campaign was lost by it. 
They had a noble army; and might have done much 
more than they did. Grave was retaken in the end 
of the campaign. So the provinces were now safe 
on that side. And the prince had gained so much 
credit with the States, that he was now more than 
ever the master of their counsels. luvj Uiy.^ 


1674. The alarm that those discoveries from Holland 
Arlington gave om* court, made lord Arlington offer at one 
Ho"L^ trial more for recovering the king's confidence. He 
offered to go over to Holland with the earl of Os- 
sory : for they fancied they had a great interest in 
the prince, by their having married two of Bever- 
vardt's daughters : and the prince had always a par- 
ticular affection to lord Ossory. Lord Arlington 
said, he would go to the bottom of every thing with 
the prince ; and did not doubt, but he would bring 
him into an entire dependence on his uncle, and 
particularly dispose him to a general peace ; on, 
which the king was much set, it being earnestly de- 
sired by the French. It was likewise believed, that 
he had leave to give the prince the hope of marry-: 
ing her whom he afterwards married. The duke 
told me he knew nothing of the matter: he had 
heard, lord Arlington had talked as if the managing 
that was his chief errand: and upon that he had 
asked the king, who assured him that he had a posi- 
tive order not so much as to speak of that matter. 
Yet, whether notwithstanding this he had a secret 
order, or whether he did it without order, he cer- 
tainly talked a great deal of it to the prince, as a 
thing which he might depend on, if he would in all 
other things be governed by the king. 
Temple Sir William Temple had been sent over the sum-; 

bMsador naer before, as ambassador: and his chief instruc- 
toHoi^nd. ^j^jjg were, to dispose all people's minds, chiefly the' 
prince's, to a peace. But the prince had avoided- 
the seeing him till the end of the campaign. Lord> 
Arlington had thrown him off, when he went into, 
the French interest : and Temple was too proud to , 
bear contempt, or forget such an injury soon. He 


was a vain man, much blown up in his own conceit, 1674. 
which he shewed too indecently on aU occasions. 
He had a true judgment in aflfairs, and very good 
principles with relation to government ; but [good] 
in nothing else : [for he was an Epicurean both in 
principle and practice.] He seemed to think that 
things were as they are from all eternity. At least 
he thought reHgion was fit only for the mob >. He 
was a great admirer of the sect of Confucius in 
China, who were atheists themselves, but left reli- 
gion to the rabble. He was a corrupter of all that 
came near him. And he delivered himself up 
wholly to study, ease, and pleasure ^. He entered 
into a close friendship with lord Danby, who de- 
pended much on him : and was directed in aU his 
notions as to foreign affairs by him; for no man 
ever came into the ministry, that understood the 
affairs of Europe so little as he did. 

I will henceforth leave the account of our affairs 
beyond sea wholly to Temple's letters, in which 
they are very truly and fully set forth. And in 
them it appears, that the prince of Orange, even 
while so young, and so little practised in affairs, had 

>■ A word of dignity for an a disdain at the misrepresenta- 

historian. S, tion here of his principles with 

* The author should have regard to religion ; his whole 
done more justice to the cha- life was a continued course of 
racter of this truly great man ; probity, disinterestedness, and 
one of the ablest, most sincere, every other amiable virtue, with 
generous, and virtuous min- every elegancy of it. Great in 
isters, that any age has pro- business, and happy out of it. 
diiced ; and will always be See, and contemplate his writ- 
deemed one of the honours of ings ; but pass gently over his 
this nation, as a statesman, a few errors. O. Sir William 
writer, and as a lover and ex- Temple was a man of virtue, 
ample of the finest sorts of to which Burnet was a stran- 
learning. They who knew sir ger. S. 
William Temple best, have had 


.1674. so clear and so just a view of them, that nothing 
' could misguide him ; and that the bad prospect he 

had from the ill condition of affairs did not frighten 
him to accept of any mean or base conditions of 
peace. His fidelity to his country and the pubUc 
interest was so firm, that no private considerations 
of his own could bias him, or indeed be much con- 
sidered by him. These letters give him a character 
that is so subHme, as well as so genuine, that it 
raises him much above all the performances of rhe- 
toric or panegyric. I will mention very little that 
is to be found in them. HoUand was in great ex- 
pectation, when they saw two such men as the earls 
of Ossory and Arlington come over, together with 
the earl of Danby's eldest son, though the last only 
made the shew a little greater. Lord Arlington for 
some days insisted vehemently on the prince's dis- 
missing Du Moulin, who had discovered the secrets 
of his office to him. In this the prince complied: 
and Du Moulin was sent to one of their plantations. 
As to all other things, lord Arlington talked to him 
in the strain of a governor ; and seemed to presume 
too much on his youth, and on his want of experi- 
ence. But, instead of prevailing on the prince, he 
lost him so entirely, that aU his endeavours after- 
wards could never beget any confidence in him. So 
he came back, and reckoned this was his last essay ; 
which succeeding so ill, he ever after that withdrew 
from all business. He made himself easy to the 
king, who continued to be still very kind to him. 

1675. At Easter, a piece of private news came from 

Ejirnd" France, which the duke was much delighted with, 

379 because it did an honour to the order of the Jesuits, 


to whom he had devoted himself. The new con- 1675. 
fessor had so pressed the king of France in Lent to 
send away his mistress, Montespan, that he pre- 
vailed at last. She was sent to a nunnery. And so 
the king received the sacrament, as was said, in a 
state of contrition. This was writ to the duke, and 
set out with such circumstances, as the French 
usually do every thing that relates to their king. 
The duke was much pleased with it. He told me, 
he had related it with all its circumstances to the 
king in the duchess of Portsmouth's hearing ; and 
said, they both heard it with great uneasiness, and 
were much out of countenance at it. The duke 
himself was then in the best temper I had ever 
known him in. He was reading Nurembergius of 
the difference of things temporal and things eternal : 
and we had much good discourse on that subject. 
Lord Arlington ran so much in his mind, that he 
once said to me, if lord Arlington would read that 
book, he would not meddle in so many affairs as he 
did. I saw he was very jealous of him, and of his 
interest in the king. Thus I have given a full ac- 
count of my acquaintance with the duke. 

I lost his favour soon after this. For in April i was exa. 
1675 a session of parliament was held, as prepara- S'e^house 
tory to one that was designed next winter, in which °Jj^^' 
money was to be asked : but none was now asked ; 
it being only called to heal aU breaches, and to beget 
a good understanding between the king and his peo- 
ple. The house of commons fell upon duke Lauder- 
dale. And those who knew what had passed be- 
tween him and me", moved that I should be exa- 

* See before, p- 373. O. 


1675. mined before a committee. I was brought before 
them. I told them how I had been commanded 
out of town. But though that was illegal, yet, since 
it had been let fall, it was not insisted on. I was 
next examined concerning his design of arming the 
Irish papists. I said, I, as well as others, had 
heard him say, he wished the presbyterians in Scot- 
land would rebel, that he might bring over the 
Irish papists to cut their throats. I was next exa- 
mined concerning the design of bringing a Scotish 
army into England. I desired to be excused, as to 
what had passed in private discourse; to which I 
thought I was not bound to answer, unless it were 
high treason. They pressed me long : and I would 
give them no other answer. So they all concluded, 
that I knew great matters ; and reported this spe- 
cially to the house. Upon that I was sent for, and 
brought before the house. I stood upon it, as I had 
done at the committee, that I was not bound to an- 
swer ; that nothing had passed that was high trea- 
son ; and as to all other things, I did not think my 
self bound to discover them. I said farther, I knew 
duke Lauderdale was apt to say things in a heat, 
which he did not intend to do. And since he had 
380iised my self so ill, I thought my self the more 
obliged not to say any thing that looked like revenge 
for what I had met with from him. I was brought 
four times to the bar. At last I was told, the 
house thought they had a right to examine into 
every thing that concerned the safety of the nation, 
as well as into matters of treason : and they looked 
on me as bound to satisfy them : otherwise they 
would make me feel the weight of their heavy dis- 
pleasure, as one that concealed what they thought 


was necessary to be known. Upon this I yielded, iGys. 
and gave an account of the discourse formerly men- 
tioned ^. They laid great weight on this *^, and re- 
newed their address against duke Lauderdale. 

I was much blamed for what I had done. Some, 
to make it look the worse, added, that I had been 
his chaplain, which was false ; and that I had been 
much obliged to him, though I had never received 
any real obligation from him, but had done him 
great services, for which I had been very unworthily 
requited. Yet the thing had an ill appearance, as 
the disclosing of what had passed in confidence ; 
though I make it a great question, how far even 
that ought to bind a man, when the designs are 
very wicked, and the person continued still in the 
same post and capacity of executing them. I have 
told the matter as it was, and must leave my self to 
the censure of the reader. My love to my country, 
and my private friendships, carried me perhaps too 
far *' ; especially since I had declared much against 
clergymen's meddling in secular affairs, and yet had 
run my self so deep in them. [The truth is, I had 
been, for above a year, in a perpetual agitation, and 
was not calm or cool enough to reflect on my con- 
duct, as I ought to have done. I had lost much of 
a spirit of devotion and recollection, and so it was 
no wonder, if I even committed great errors.] 

This broke me quite with the court, and in that 
respect proved a great blessing to me. It brought 
me out of many temptations ; the greatest of all be- 

*• P. 355. O. Treacherous from him. See Journal of the 

villain. S, House of Commons, 21, 23, 29. 

<^ They made no use of it; April 5. — May 6. 1675. O. 

and the majority of the house <* Right. S. 
did not seem to like its coming 

VOL. 11. F 


1675. ing the kindness that was growing upon me from 
the duke, which might have involved me into great 
difficulties, as it did expose me to much censure ; all 
which went off upon this occasion. And I applied 
my self to my studies, and my function, being then 
settled preacher at the roUs, and soon after lecturer 
of St. Clement's. I lived many years under the pro- 
tection of sir Harbottle Grimstone, master of the 
rolls, who continued steady in his favour to me, 
though the king sent secretary Williamson to desire 
him to dismiss me. He said he was an old man, 
fitting himself for another world, and he found my 
ministry useful to him ; so he prayed that he might 
be excused in that. He was a long and very kind 
patron to me. I continued ten years in that post, 
free from all necessities : and, I thank God, that 
was all I desired. But, since I was so long happy 
in so quiet a retreat, it seems but a just piece of 
gratitude, that I should give some account of that 
venerable old man. 
Sir Har- Hc was dcsccuded from a long-lived family ; for 
Grim- his great grandfather lived till he was ninety-eight, 
chTrSter. ^^ grandfather to eighty-six, and his father to se- 
381 venty-eight, and himself to eighty-two. He had to 
the last a great soundness of health, of memory, and 
of judgment. He was bred to the study of the law, 
being a younger brother. Upon his elder brother's 
death he threw it up. But falling in love with 
judge Crook's daughter, the father would not bestow 
her on him, unless he wotdd return to his studies ; 
which he did with great success. That judge was 
one of those who delivered his judgment in the 
chequer-chamber against the ship-money, which he 
did with a long and learned argument. And sir 


Harbottle's father, who sensed in parliament for Es- 167^ 
sex, lay long in prison, because he would not pay 
the loan-money. Thus both his family and his 
wife's were zealous for the interest of their country. 
In the beginning of the long parliament he was a 
great asserter of the laws ; and inveighed severely 
against all that had been concerned in the former 
illegal oppression. His principle was, that allegi- 
ance and protection were mutual obligations; and 
that the one went for the other. He thought the 
law was the measure of both ; and that when a legal 
protection was denied to one that paid a legal alle- 
giance, the subject had a right to defend himself 
He was much troubled, when preachers asserted a 
divine right of regal government. He thought it 
had no other effect, but to give an ill impression of 
them as aspiring men : nobody was convinced by 
it: it inclined their hearers rather to suspect all 
they said besides : it looked like the sacrificing their 
country to their own preferment ; and an encourag- 
ing of princes to turn tyrants. Yet when the long 
parliament engaged into the league with Scotland, 
he would not swear the covenant. And he discon- 
tinued sitting in the house till it was laid aside. 
Then he came back, and joined with Hollis, and the 
other presbyterians, in a high opposition to the in- 
dependents, ^nd to Cromwell in particular, as was 
told in the first book. And he was one of the se- 
cluded members that were forced out of the house. 
He followed afterwards the practice of the law, but 
was always looked at as one who wished weU to the 
ancient government of England. So he was chosen 
speaker of that house that called home the king; 
and had so great a merit in that whole affair, that 

r 2 


1675. he was soon after, without any application of his 
own, made master of the rolls : in which post he 
continued to his death with a high reputation, as he 
well deserved it. For he was a just judge; very 
slow, and ready to hear every thing that was of- 
fered, without passion or partiality. I thought his 
only fault was, that he was too rich : and yet he 
gave yearly great sums in charity, discharging many 
prisoners by paying their debts. He was a very 
pious and devout man, and spent every day at least 
an hour in the morning, and as much at night, in 
prayer and meditation. And even in winter, when 
he was obliged to be very early on the bench, he 
took care to rise so soon, that he had always the 
command of that time which he gave to those exer- 
cises. He was much sharpened against popery ; but 
382 had always a tenderness to the dissenters ^, though 
he himself continued still in the communion of the 
church. His second wife, whom I knew, was niece 
to the great sir Francis Bacon : and was the last 
heir of that family. She had all the high notions 
for the church and the crown, in which she had 
been bred; but was the humblest, the devoutest, 
and best tempered person I ever knew of that sort ^ 
It was really a pleasure to hear her talk of religion : 
she did it with so much elevation and force. She 
was always very plain in her clothes : and went oft 
to gaols, to consider the wants of the prisoners, and 
relieve or discharge them ; and by the meanness of 
her dress she passed but for a servant trusted with 
the charities of others. When she was travelling in 
the country, as she drew near a village, she often or- 

« Burnet's test of all virtues. S. ^ Hogue. S. 


dered her coach to stay behind till she had walked 1675. 
about it, giving orders for the instruction of the 
children, and leaving liberally for that end. With 
two such persons I spent several of my years very 
happily. But I now return to the session of Par- 
liament s . 

In the house of commons the business against Danbyat- 
duke Lauderdale was taken up warmly at three se- in vain. 
veral times : and three several addresses were made 
to the king against him. The king's answer was, 
that he would protect no man against law and 
justice; but would condemn none without special 
matter well made out. There was no money of- 
fered : so addresses were feeble things. The next at- 
tempt was against the earl of Danby, wl\o had be- 
gun to invert the usual methods of the exchequer. 
But the majority were for him : so that charge 
came to nothing. Only those who begun it formed 
a party against liim, that grew in conclusion to be 
too hard for him. He took a different method from 
those who were in the ministry before him. They 
had taken off the great and leading men : and left 
the herd as a despised company, who could do no- 
thing, because they had none to head them. But 
lord Danby reckoned that the major number was 
the surer game : so he neglected the great men, who 
he thought raised their price too high ; and reckoned, 

8 Lord treasurer Oxford told Sir Harbottle knew he had 

nie, his father, sir Edward Har- spoke of it to nobody else, and 

ley, was very intimately ac- charged Burnet with having re- 

quainted with the master of the vealed it. He began to make 

rolls ; and wlien the bill of ex- some very awkward excuses ; 

elusion was depending, had com- which the master stopt, by tell- 

municated a secret of very great ing him, that he himself was 

importance to him, which he most to be blamed, for having 

trusted to Burnet, and by that mentioned it to any body. D. 
means was soon known at court. 



1675. that he could gain ten ordinary men, cheaper than 
one of those. This might have succeeded with him, 
if they that did lead his party had been wise and 
skilful men. But he seemed to be jealous of aU such,, 
as if they might gain too much credit with the king. 
The chief men that he made use of were of so low a 
size, that they were baffled in every debate. So that 
many, who were inclined enough to vote in all obe- 
dience, yet were ashamed to be in the vote on the 
side that was manifestly run down in the debate. 
dhS^r^ The ablest man of his party was Seimour, who 
was the first speaker of the house of commons that 
was not bred to the law. He was a man of great 
birth, being the elder branch of the Seimour family ; 
and was a graceful man, bold and quick. But [was 
the most immoral and impious man of his age ;] he 
had a sort of a pride so peculiar to himself, that I 
383 never saw any thing like it. He had neither shame 
nor decency with it ^ . [And in all private dealings 
he was the unjustest and blackest man that has 
lived in our times.] He was violent against the 
court, till he forced himself into good posts. He 
was the most assuming speaker that ever sate in the 
chair. He knew the house and every man in it so 
well, that by looking about he could teU the fate of 
any question. So, if any thing was put, when the 
court party was not weU gathered together, he would 
have held the house from doing any thing, by a wil- 
ful mistaking or mistating the question. By that he 

•* When he was speaker, his own coach, but sir Edward told 

coach broke at Charing Cross, him it was more proper for him 

and he ordered the beadles to to walk in the streets, than the 

stop the next gentleman's they speaker of the house of com- 

met, and bring it to him. The mons ; and left him so to do, 

gentleman in it was much sur- without any further apology. D. 
prised to be turned out of his 


gave time to those who were appointed for that mer- 1 675. 
cenary work, to go about and gather in all their 
party. And he would discern when they had got 
the majority. And then he would very fairly state 
the question, when he saw he was sure to carry it. 

A great many of the court grew to be so uneasy, 
especially when they saw the king was under the in- 
fluence of French and popish counsels, that they 
were glad to be out of the way at critical times. 
On some occasions they would venture to vote 
against the court : of which the memorable answer 
of Harvey's', who was treasurer to the queen, was 
a noted instance. He was one whom the king loved 
personally: and yet upon a great occasion he voted 
against that which the king desired. So the king 
chid him severely for it. Next day, another im- 
portant question falling in, he voted as the king 
would have him. So the king took notice of it 
at night ; and said, You were not against me to day. 
He answered, No, sir, I was against my conscience 
to day. This was so gravely delivered, that the 
king seemed pleased with it: and it was much 
talked of. While things went thus in the house of 
commons, there was the greatest and longest debate 
in the house of lords that has been in all my time. 
They sat upon it often till midnight. 

It was about the test that Lord Danby had con-Debate« 
tiived, as was formerly mentioned. Lord Danby, a^Jist[°'"^ 
and lord Finch, and some of the bishops, were the 
chief arguers for it. They said, it was necessary 
that a method should be found out, to discriminate 
the good subjects from the bad : we had been lately 

• He was either father or uncle of the present earl of Bristol. 
He was uncle. O 

F 4 


1675. involved in a long civil war, occasioned by the ill 
principles that some had taken up with relation to 
government : it was fit to prevent the return of such 
miseries : the king had granted a very fuU indemnity, 
and had observed it religiously : but there was no 
reason, while so much of the old leaven still re- 
mained, to leave the nation exposed to men of such 
principles : it was not fit to make a parliament per- 
petual : yet that was a less evil, than to run the ha- 
zar^ of a bad election ; especially when jealousies 
and fears had been blowed about the nation : a 
good constitution was to be preserved by all pru- 
dent methods : no man was to be pressed to take 
this test : but, as they, who were not wiUing to come 
into such an engagement, ought to have the mo- 
desty to be contented with the favour and conni- 
vance of the government, so, if that did not teach 
384 them good manners, it might be fit to use severer 
tools. To all this, great opposition was made. It 
was plain, the duke did not like it : but the king 
was so set on it, that he did not declare himself 
against it. But aU the papists were against it : they 
thought the bringing any test in practice would 
certainly bring on one that would turn them out of 
the house. The lords Shaftsbury, Buckingham, 
HoUis, Hallifax, and aU those who were thought 
the country party, opposed this mightily. They 
thought there ought to be no tests, beyond the oath 
of allegiance, upon the elections to Parliament : that 
it being the great privilege of EngUshmen, that they 
were not to be taxed but by their representatives ; 
it was therefore thought a disinheriting men of the 
main part of their birthright, to do any thing that 
should shut them out from their votes in electing;. 


all tests in public assemblies were thought dangerous, i67^ 
and contrary to public lil)erty : for if a parliament 
thought any law inconvenient for the good of the 
whole, they must be supposed still free to alter it ^ : 
and no previous limitation could bind up their le- 
gislature : a great deal was said, to shew that the 
peace of the world was best secured by good laws 
and good government; and that oaths or tests 
were no security : the scrupulous might be fettered 
by them : yet the bulk of the world would boldly 
take any test, and as boldly break through it ; of 
which the late times had given large proofs: the 
matter of this test was very doubtful : for though, 
generally speaking, the king's person and his power 
were not to be distinguished, yet that was not uni- 
versally true : an infant king, or a lunatic, were ex- 
ceptions : as also a king in his enemies' hands ; which 
was the case of Henry VI. for whose power his own 
party fought even against his person : so an excep- 
tion was to be understood; otherwise the proposi- 
tion, that affirmed it was a traitorous position to se-^ 
parate them, was not true : nor could it be reason- 
able to bind up men against alterations : every new 
law was an alteration : it was not easy to define how 
far the power of making alterations might go, and 
where it must stop : these things were best left at 
large : upon the whole matter, as they were against 
any parliamentary tests, so they were more particu- 
larly against this. Lord Shaftsbury distinguished 
himself more in this session than ever he had done 
before. He spoke once a whole hour, to shew the 
inconvenience of condemning all resistance upon any 
pretence whatsoever. He said, it might be proper 

'' Wrong arguing. S. ■■•< 


1675. to lay such ties upon those who served in the mi- 
■ litia, and in corporations, because there was still a 

superior power in parliament to declare the extent 
of the oath : but it might be of very ill consequence 
to lay it on a parliament : since there might be cases, 
though so far out of view that it was hard to sup- 
pose them, in which he believed no man would say, 
it was not lawful to resist. If a king would make 
us a province, and tributary to France, and subdue 
385 the nation by a French army, or to the papal author- 
ity, must we be bound in that case tamely to sub- 
mit ? Upon which he said many things that did cut 
to the quick. And yet, though his words were 
watched, so that it was resolved to have sent him to 
the tower if any one word had fallen from him that 
had made him liable to such a censure, he spoke 
both with so much boldness and so much caution, 
that, though he provoked the court extremely, no ad- 
vantage could be taken against him. The court car- 
ried every question in favour of the test, though 
with great opposition, and a protestation made 
upon every step that was carried. So that the bill 
was in a fair way to have passed : and very probably 
it would have passed in the house of commons, 
when, by an unlooked for emergent, the session was 
A dispute Ever since the end of king James I.'s reign, peti- 
peais aifd tious of appeal were brought to the house of lords 
privileges. £j.qjjj dccrecs iu chancery. This rose from a parity 
of reason, because writs of error lay from the courts 
of law to the house of lords. And since the business 
of the chancery grew to be so extended and com- 
prehensive, it was not thought safe to leave it to the 
lord chancellor's conscience. So this practice, though 


so lately begun, grew on by degrees to be the main 1675. 
business of the house of lords. A petition of appeal 
was brought against a member of the house of com- 
mons. The lords received it, and made an order 
upon it. The member being served with it, brought 
it into the house of commons. And they voted it a 
breach of privilege, for the lords to meddle with one 
of their house. The lords, on the other hand, said, 
they were bound to do justice to all : and no privi- 
lege could lie against that : and, since they never 
sate but when the commons sate likewise, if a privi- 
lege from that house could stop their proceedings, 
there must be a failure in justice : and since no pri- 
vilege was ever pretended in the case of a writ of 
error, it could not lie against an appeal. So they 
resolved to proceed in the cause. The commons 
passed a vote against any lawyers that should plead 
at the lords' bar in this cause. But the lords com- 
manded the council to go on ; with which they com- 
plied. And as they went from the lords' bar, they 
were l^y an order from the house of commons sent 
to the tower. But they were by another order from 
the lords set at liberty. So the two houses being 
as it were at war, it was necessary to put an end to 
the session. 

This was very uneasy to the court : for they saw The ses- 

. sion broke 

it was a very sure method to break a session ot par- up oa it. 
liament, every time that it was taken up. I am not 
sure, if this was laid, or if it happened by accident. 
Lord Shaftsbuiy said, it was laid by himself. But 
others assured me, it happened in course, though it 
produced great eflfects : for there never was a 
strength in the court to raise this debate of the test 
in any subsequent session. And as this made the 


1675. court apprehend they might by the prosecution of 
' the same appeal lose the next session, since the 

oov prorogation did only discontinue parliamentary pro- 
ceedings, but not judiciary ones ; so they feared this 
might go so far as to force a dissolution of the pre- 
sent parliament : to which the court would be very 
hardly brought, after they had practised so long upon 
the members, and knew them all so well. 

In this session, on a day that grievances were to 
be gone upon, Grimstone said, that considering the 
extent of privilege, he looked on a standing parlia- 
ment as the greatest grievance of the nation ; so 
many men being exempted from justice, and from 
the demands of their creditors, for so long and so 
indefinite a time. This motion was let faU at that 
time. But it was not forgot ^ . And it was likely 
to be taken up, when new opportunities should be 
offered. The summer went over without any consi- 
derable accidents at home. 
A sewion of A ncw scssiou met next winter. And at the first 


opening it, the kmg laid before the commons the 
great difficulties he was in by the anticipations of his 
revenues. It was then generally thought, that the 
king was in such straits, that, if money could not be 
obtained, he must turn to other counsels and to other 
'ministers. The debate went high in the committee 
of the whole house. It was offered on the one side 
to shew, that the king had not enough in his hands 
to maintain the government and to secure the na- 
tion : though our neutrality at that time made trade 
flow in upon us, so that the customs rose higher than 

' Old sir Christopher Mus- or a bad one ever do good to 
grave used to say, that a good the man that made it. D. 
motion in parliament never died; ■ '' 


ever. On the other hand it was said, that if antici- 1675. 
pations were once admitted as a reason for a supply, 
the court would never want that reason. It was fit- 
ter to examine by whose means or on what design 
those anticipations were made. At last, the question 
was put. And the vote being then stated, and the 
previous question being then put, whether the main 
question should be then put or not, the votes were 
equal. So sir Charles Harbord, who was in the 
chair, gave it for putting the main question. But, 
some of the country side coming in between the two 
questions, the main question was lost by two or 
three. So near was the court to the carrying so 
great a point. Harbord was much blamed for his 
rashness. He said, the duty of the chair was always 
to set matters forward : and so he ought to have 
given it for putting the main question : and, if the 
same equality had continued, he said, he would have 
given it for the court. He was a very rich and co- 
vetous man, who knew England weU : and his parts 
were very quick about him in that great age, being 
past eighty. A lively repartee was made by his own 
son to him in the debate. He had said, the right 
way of dealing with the king, and of gaining him to 
them, was, to lay their hands on their purses, and to 
deal roundly with him. So his son said, he seconded 
his motion : but he meant, that they should lay 
their hands on their purses, as he himself did, and 
hold them well shut, that no money should go out of 
them. The earl of Danby was much disappointed 387 
at this. Yet he took heart, since it was brought so 
near, that he reckoned he would make the next ses- 
sion sure. The petition of appeal, that had broke 
the former session, was now brought on again before 


jg75 the lords. The court tried their whole strength to 

keep it off, tiU they saw what might be expected 

from the commons. So, upon the miscarriage of the 
great vote in the house of commons, the lords went 
on upon the petition : and, the commons opposing 
them vigorously, as before, it was visible that the 
parliament must be prorogued. 
The charac- Upou this it was proposcd in the house of lords 
pariiameTto addrcss the king for dissolving the present par- 
'"^°- liament. It was manifest the two houses could no 
longer maintain the correspondence that was ne- 
cessary. In a new parliament this must fall to the 
ground : but it could not while this lasted. It was 
said, a standing parliament changed the constitution 
of England'". The king did no more consult with his 
people, nor know them : but he had now a cabal of 
single persons to deal with. The people were now 
cut off from their liberty of electing ; and so had no 
more a true representative. It was said, that a par- 
liament of a long continuance would be either an 
engine to sell the liberties of their country, or 
would, by rendering themselves popular, join with 
the people against the crown. In either case it was 
like to be destructive to the constitution. So it was 
moved, that an address should be made to the king 
for dissolving the parliament. And, to the wonder 
of all men, the duke joined in it. The majority 
of the temporal lords were for it. But the bench of 
bishops was against it : and so it was not carried. 
The thing became the universal subject of discourse. 
It was infused into the members of the house of 

™ The present loss under for nothing now will do but 
K.J. (sic.) Temporamutantur} septennial parliaments. S. 'i 


commons, that, if they would not be more tractable, 1675. 
and help the king out of his necessities, he was sure 
a new parliament would give him money, and make 
him easy ; and that the rather for having dissolved 
them. This wrought on many of them, who had 
been chosen while the nation was in a fit, or rather 
a fury, of loyalty. They knew, they could never 
hope to be chosen again. Many of them were 
ruined in their fortunes, and lived upon their privi- 
leges and upon their pensions. They had got it 
among them for a maxim, which contributed not a 
little to our preservation while we were in such 
hands, that, as they must not give the king too 
much at a time, lest there should be no more use of 
them, so they were to take care not to starve the 
court, lest they themselves should be starved by that 
means. They were indeed generally both against 
popery and France. And, to redeem their credit 
for the money that they were ready to give some- 
what too lavishly, they said, when they went into 
their countries, that it was on design to fix the king 
to an English interest and the protestant religion. 388 
And they had talked so high on those heads, that the 
court itself could not manage them, when any thing 
relating to these came before them. Some of them 
were high for the prerogative : others high for the 
church : and all the mercenary men were careful of 
themselves. In opposition to these a great party was 
formed, who declared more heartily for the protestant 
religion, and for the interest of England. The duke 
of Buckingham and the earl of Shaftsbury opened 
many of their eyes, and let them know the designs 
of the court. And indeed they were then so visible, 
that there was enough seen, without such secret in- 


1675. telligence, to convince the most incredulous. Sir 
WUliam Coventry had the greatest credit of any 
man in the house. He never meddled personally 
with any minister. He had a perfect understanding 
of affairs. So he laid open the errors of the govern- 
ment with the more authority, because he mixed no 
passion nor private resentments with it. His bro- 
ther usually answered him with much life in a re- 
partee, but not with the weight and force with 
which he spoke. Colonel Birch was a man of a pe- 
culiar character. He had been a carrier at first, 
and retained still, even to an affectation, the clown- 
ishness of his education". He got up in the pro- 
gress of the war to be a colonel, and to be concerned 
in the excise. And at the restoration he was found 
to be so useful in managing the excise, that he was 
put in a good post. He was the roughest and bold- 
est speaker in the house; and talked in the lan- 
guage and phrases of a carrier, but with a beauty 

" Sir Edward Seimour re- then and has since been much 

fleeted upon him very grossly talked of, and should not be 

once in a debate, for his former forgotten. Coventry had, in 

• profession ; to which he an- some debate in the house of 

swered very calmly, that it was commons, in which Birch had 

true he had been a carrier, and spoken of the other side, reflect- 

he believed if that worthy gen- ed on Birch's having been a 

tleman had ever been so, he carrier ; upon which Birch got 

would have been so still. King up and said, " It is very true, 

Charles the second told him, " what that gentleman says, I 

upon something he had mov- " was a carrier once; and let 

ed in the house of commons, " me tell that gentleman it is 

that he remembered forty-one, " ver%' fortunate for him that he 

to which he replied, that he " never was a carrier, for if he 

remembered forty-eight. For " had been a carrier, he would 

which the duke of Monmouth " have been a carrier still." 

would have had him sent to Birch, as I have heard from a 

the Porter's Lodge, but the member of his time, that was 

king would not sufl'er it. D. then a young man, [that he,] 

There was a saying of his to though old, was at the head of 

this Mr. Coventry, which was their club in Chanon Row. O. 


and eloquence that was always acceptable. I heard 1675. 
Coventry say, he was the best speaker to carry a 
popular assembly before him that he had ever 
known. He spoke always with much life and heat. 
But judgment was not his talent. Waller was the 
delight of the house: and even at eighty he said 
the liveliest things of any among them : he was 
only concerned to say that which should make him 
be applauded. But he never laid the business of 
the house to heart, being a vain and empty, though 
a witty, man. He deserves the character of being 
one of the great refiners of our language and poetry. 
He was for near sixty years one of the best of all 
our writers that way. The two men of quality that 
were the most considered were the lord Russell 
and the lord Cavendish. Lord Russell was a man 
of great candour, and of a general reputation ; uni- 
versally beloved and trusted; of a generous and 
obliging temper. He had given such proofs of an 
undaunted courage and of an unshaken firmness, 
that I never knew any man have so entire a credit 
in the nation as he had. He quickly got out of 
some of the disorders into which the court had 
drawn him. And ever after that, his life was un- 
blemished in all respects. He had, from his first 
education, an inclination to favour the non-conform- 
ists " ; and wished the laws could have been made 
easier to them, or they more phant to the law. He 
was a slow man, and of little discourse : but he had 
a true judgment, when he considered things at his 389 
o^vn leisure. His understanding was not defective : 
but his virtues were so eminent, that they would 

° So have all the aiithor's favourites. S. 


1675. have more than balanced real defects, if any had 
been found in the other. Lord Cavendish, after- 
wards earl, and then duke, of Devonshire, was too 
much a libertine both in principle and practice. He 
went off from the court at first upon resentments 
for some disappointments there. He was [an am- 
bitious and revengeful man ; but he had the courage 
of an hero, with a much greater proportion of wit 
and knowledge than is usual in men of his birth. 
He had a softness in his exterior deportment to 
which there was nothing within that was answer- 
able p.] Littleton and Powle were the men that laid 
the matters of the house with the greatest dexterity 
and care. Powle was very learned in precedents, 
and parliament journals, which goes a great way 
in their debates : and, when he had time to prepare 
himself^, he was a clear and strong speaker. Lit- 
tleton was the ablest and the vehementest arguer of 
them all. He commonly lay quiet till the end of a 
debate: and he often ended it, speaking with a 
slrain of conviction and authority that was not 
easily resisted. I lived the very next door to him 
for several years : and we spent a great deal of our 
time every day together. He told me all their ma- 
nagement : and commonly, when he was to put his 
whole strength to argue any point, he used to talk 
it over with me, and to set me to object all that I 
could against him. He lived wholly in London. 
So matters were most in his hands during the in- 

P In the printed book was deportment. 
substituted. He was ambitious, 1 I have seen many of his 

-and had the courage of a hero, occasional speeches, and they 

tcith an unusual proportion both are all very good, and do not de- 

qf wit and knowledge. He had serve this distinction upon them. 

a great softness in his exterior O. 


tervals of parliament. And by his means it was, 1675. 
that I arrived at such knowledge of their intrigues. 
He was a wise and worthy man, had studied much 
modem history, and the present state and interest 
of Europe. Sir Thomas Lee was a man that va- 
lued himself upon artifice and cunning, in which he 
was a great master, without being out of counte- 
nance when it was discovered ^ Vaughan, the chief 
justice's son, was a man of great integrity, had 
much pride, but did great service. These were the 
chief men that preserved the nation from a very de- 
cjeitful and practising court, and from a corrupt 
house of commons. And by their skiU and firmness 
they, from a small number, who began the opposi- 
tion, grew at last to be the majority ^ 

All this I thought fit to lay together, and to fiU 1675. 
as it were an empty place in my history : for, as tervai be- 

, . 1 . . /> . tween the 

our mam busmess lay m preparing tor, or managing sessions of 
a session of parliament, so we had now a long in-P"''**™*°*- 
tervai, of above a year, between this session in win- 

' Hie agreed to Second the had this from one who knew hiiri 
motion for 1,200,000^. for six in parliament, and I have seed 
thousand pounds, which one of many of his speeches, which 
the clerks of the treasury was manifest this to have been his 
to bring in a hackney coach to character. He may be seen in 
Fleet Ditch, where Lee was to the conference between the two 
meet him in another, and up- houses about the abdication, 
on a sign given, they were to The same person used to talk 
change coaches : which was ex- very highly of Garway also, 
ecuted accordingly ; but, un- and thought them the ablest 
luckily, the coachman knew parliament men of their time ; 
them bothj and toW what he and so they have been general- 
had seen. D. ly deemed, and were much 

» He should have mentioned spoken of as such, long after 

Sacheverel here, who was very their deaths, which happened 

eminent among them, and infe- not a great while after the re- 

rior to few in his abilities. I have volution. O. 

o 2 


1676. ter 1675, and the next session of parliament, which 
was not till the spring in 1677- The French were 
much set on procuring a peace. And they, seeing 
how much the parhament was set on engaging the 
king in the alliance, prevailed with him to discon- 
tinue the session ; for which, no doubt, he had round 
sums of money sent to him t . 
An account About this time Lockhart the ambassador in 
passages of Fraucc died. The farther he saw into the designs 
^urag^e'^in ^^ ^^c couit, hc grcw the more uneasy in the post 
^™°*^Q he was in, though he acted in it with great spirit 
and resolution, both with relation to his own master 
and to the French king : of which I will set down 
two passages, that may be very instructive to am- 
bassadors. In this time of neutraUty the French 
privateers took many English ships, pretending they 
were Dutch, only with English passes. One of these 
was taken by a privateer, that, as was believed, Pe- 
pys, then secretary to the English admiralty, and 
in great favour with the duke, had built; and, as 
was said, out of the king's stores. The merchants 
proved in council, that the ship was EngHsh. So 
Lockhart had an order to demand her: and he 
pressed it so effectually, that an order was sent from 
the court of France to discharge her. But before 
that was executed, the king was prevailed on by 
Pepys, to tell the French ambassador, that he did 
not concern himself in that ship : he believed mer- 

' " (Rouvigny (the French " in case it should refuse to 

" ambassador) writes, 2d Sep- " give him money ; in consi- 

" tember 1674, that Charles " deration of which lie was to 

" had agreed either to prorogue " have a pension of ioo,oooZ. 

" his parliament tillApril 1675, "from France." Appendix to 

" in consideration of 500,000 Dalrymple's Memoirs of Great 

" crowns, or if he convened it Britain and Ireland, p. 99.) 
•' in November, to dissolve it 


chants were rogues, and could bring witnesses to 16; 6. 
prove whatsoever they had a mind to : so the court 
of France might do what they pleased in that mat- 
ter. This was writ to Versailles a day or two after 
the former order was sent. But upon it a new one 
went to Dunkirk, where the ship lay, to stop her. 
This came before she could get out. So Lockhart, 
being informed of that, went to court, and com- <18 
plained heavily. He was told what the king him- 
self had said about it. He answered resolutely, 
that the king spoke to them only by him. Yet he 
wrote upon this to the court of England, desiring 
to be recalled, since he could serve no longer with 
honour, after he had been so disowned. Upon this 
the king wrote him a letter with his own pen, ex- 
cusing the matter the best he could; and justified 
him in what he had done. And upon that secret 
orders were sent, and the ship was discharged. 
The other was a higher point, considering the bi- 
gotry of the king of France. Lockhart had a 
French popish servant, who was dying, and sent for 
the sacrament. Upon wliich it was brought with 
the procession ordinary in such cases. Lockhart, 
hearing of this, ordered his gates to be shut. And 
upon that many were inflamed, and were running 
to force his gates : but he ordered all his family tO 
stand to then- arms, and, if any force was offered, to 
fire. There was a great noise made of this. But 
no force was offered. He resolved to complain first ; 
and so went to court, and expostulated upon it. He 
said, his house was his master's house : and here a 
public triumph was attempted on his master's re- 
ligion, and affronts were offered him: he said, if 
a priest had brought the sacrament privately,, he 

G 3 


1676. would have connived at it : but he asked reparation 
for so public an injury. The king of France seemed 
to be highly displeased at this, calling it the greatest 
indignity that had ever been done to his God during 
his reign. Yet the point did not bear arguing : so 
Lockhart said nothing to that. When Lockhart 
went from him, Pompone followed him, sent after 
391 him by the king ; and told him, he would force the 
king to suffer none of his subjects to serve him. He 
answered, he would order his coachman to drive the 
quicker to Paris, to prevent that ; and left Pompone 
to guess the meaning. As soon as he came to his 
house, he ordered aU his French servants to be imj- 
mediately paid off, and dismissed. The court of 
England was forced to justify him in aU this matter. 
A public letter of thanks was writ to him upon it. 
And the court of France thought it fit to digest it. 
But the French king looked on him ever after with 
great coldness, if not with aversion. Soon after 
that, he feU into a languishing, which, after some 
months, carried him off. I have ever looked on 
him as the greatest man that his country produced 
in this age, next to sir Robert Murray. 
Manage- The carl of Danby began now to talk against the 
France. French interest with open mouth. Rouvigny stayed 
but two years in England : for though he served his 
master's interests but too well, yet the popish party 
could not bear the want of a chapel in the French 
ambassador's house. So he was recalled : and Cour- 
tin was sent in his room. Before he parted, he 
talked roundly with lord Danby : he said, he was 
going into popular interests against those of his mas- 
ter's honour, who having engaged the king of France 
in the war, and being forced to leave him to fight 


it out alone, ought not to turn against him ; espe- 1676. 
daily, since the king of France referred every thing 
to him as the arbiter and mediator of the peace : he 
remembered him of the old duke of Buckingham's 
fate, who thought to become popular by breaking 
the Spanish match ; and it was his ruin : he said, 
the king of France was the king's best friend and 
truest ally : and if he made the king forsake him, 
and depend on his parliament, being so tempered 
as they were then, both the king and he might come 
to repent it, when it was too late. I had all this 
from himself. To this lord Danby replied, that he 
spoke as a faithful servant to his own master, and that 
he himself would act as a faithful servant to his mas- 
ter. Courtin spoke a great deal to the same purpose, 
in the prince of Conde's presence, when I had the 
honour to wait on him. He told me, there was a 
strange reverse in things : lord Danby was at that 
time suffering for being in the French interest : and 
lord Montague '^ was popular as being against it: 
whereas, to his knowledge, during his employment in 
England, lord Danby was an enemy to their interest, 
as much as lord Montague was for it. I can say no- 
thing as to one point, whether any great sums came 1 . mIt 
over from France all this while, or not. Some watched ;,'^ji 

the rising and falling of the exchange, by which men 
skilful in those matters can judge, when any great 
sum passes from one kingdom to another, either in 
specie or by bill : but they could never find out any 
thing to make them conclude it was done. Lord 
Montague told me, he tried often to get into that 
secret, but in vain : he often said to the king, that, 392 
if he would trust him, he could make better bar- 
" Not then a lord. O. 
G 4 


1676. gains for him than others had made : but the king 

never answered him a word on that head : and he 
believed, that what sums soever came over, they 
were only to the duchess of Portsmouth, or to the 
king's privy purse ; and that the French ambassador 
had the sole managing of that matter, the king 
perhaps not being wilhng to trust any of his own 
subjects with so important and so dangerous a se- 
cret. In all companies the earl of Danby was de- 
claring openly against France and popery. And the 
see of London faUing then void by Henchman's 
death, he brought Compton, brother to the earl of 
Northampton, to succeed him. He was made bishop 
of Oxford, upon Crew's being promoted to Duresme, 
[who, bating the dignity of being born of a noble, 
though puritan family, had not any one quaUty to 
recommend him to so great a post, unless obedience 
and compliance could supply aU other defects. He 
has neither learning nor good sense, and is no 
preacher. He was a fawning abject slave to the court. 
And thus was raised, and has been now for above 
thirty years possessed of the greatest income in the 
church ^.] 
The ciiarac- Compton fwas a man of a much better form ; hel 

ter of some ^ -^ ■- -■ 

bishops, carried arms for some years. When he was past thirty, 
he took orders. He was an humljle and modest man. 
He applied himself more to his function than bishops 
had commonly done. He went much about his 
diocese ; and preached, and confirmed in many ijlaces. 
His preaching was without much life or learning i 
for he had not gone through his studies witli thei 
^^^exactness that was fitting. He was a great patron 

.'■ (See below, p. 822.) 


of the converts from popery, and of those protestants, ig^g^ 

whom the bad usage they were beginning to meet ~^ 

with in France drove over to us : and by these 
means he came to have a great reputation. He was 
making many complaints to the king, and often in 
council, of the insolence of the papists, and of Cole- 
man's in particular ^ . So that the king ordered the 
duke to dismiss Coleman out of his wservice. Yet he 
continued still in his confidence. But with these 
good qualities Compton was a weak man, wilful, and 
strangely wedded to a party "*. He was a property 
to lord Danby, and was turned by him as he pleased. 
The duke hated him. But lord Danby persuaded 
both the king and him, that, as his heat did no great 
hurt to any person, so the giving way to it helped to 
lay the jealousies of the church party. About a 
year after that, Sheldon dying, Compton was per- 
suaded that lord Danby had tried with all his 
strength to promote him to Canterbury ; though , 
that was never once intended. There were none of 
the order, that were in any sort fitted to fill that 
see, whom the court could trust. 

Sancroft, dean of St. Paul's, was raised to it. He 
was a man of solemn deportment, had a sullen gra- 
vity in his looks, and was considerably learned. He 
had put on a monastic strictness, and lived abstracted .«)«.«jnq 
from company. These things, together with his 
living unmarried, and his being fixed in the old 

^' Mrs. Coniwallis, a Roman and bishop Coniplon was made 

catholic, was in great favour use of, to take notice at the 

with the princess Ann, and council of the dangerous conse- 

had introduced her friend Mrs. qiience such a woman's being 

Churchill, since duchess of about the princess might have ; 

Marlborough, who soon found, u))on which Mrs. Cornwallis 

if she could get rid of her in- was ordered never to come into 

troductress, she should have the her presence more. D. 
entire confidence to herself : ^ He means to the church. S. 


1676. maxims of high loyalty, and a superstitious valuing 
of little things, made the court conclude, that he 
was a man who might be entirely gained to serve 
all their ends ; or, at least, that he would be an un- 
active speculative man, and give them little opposi- 
tion in any thing that they might attempt, when 
they had more promising opportunities. He was a 
dry, cold man, reserved and peevish; so that none 
loved him, and few esteemed him ^ : yet the high 
church party were weU pleased with his promotion. 
As lord Danby thus raised his creatures in the 
church, so he got all men turned out of their places, 
that did not entirely depend on him : and went on 
in his credit with the king, stiU assuring him, that, 
if he would leave things to his conduct, he would 
certainly bring about the whole cavalier party again 
to him. And such was the corruption and poverty 
of that party, that, had it not been that French 
and popish counsels were so visible in the whole 
course of our affairs, he had very probably gained 
them to have raised the king's power, and to have 
extirpated the dissenters, and to have brought 
things very near to the state they were in, in king 
Charles I.'s time, before the war. 
The pro- All this whilc the papists were not idle. They 

jectsofthe . , , . ,.,,,. , i- 

papists, tried then* strength with the king to get the parlia- 
ment dissolved : in which their hopes carried them 
so far, that Coleman drew a declaration for justify-t 

"Jfalse and detracting. S. " could not have been entrusted 

But compare this with the cha- " to one more firm and tem- 

racter of this archbishop, in the " perate in the exercise of his 

author's second volume of the " authority, more watchful over 

History of the Reformation, " its general interests, or more 

page 379. O. (Dr. D'Oyley, in " intrepid in the defence of its 

his life of the archbishop lately " rights and privileges at the 

published, well observes, " that " hour ,olf periju" Vol.i. p. 153^). 

*♦ the government of the church j,i ^j . niuxj 


ing it. Thdr design in this was, once to divide the 1 676. 
king and his people : for they reckoned the new 
parliament would not be so easy to him as this was. 
For how angry soever this was at him, and he some^ 
times at them, yet they saw that a severe act against 
popery, or some steps made against France, would 
dispose them to forget all former quarrels, and to 
give money. And as the king always wanted that, 
and loved to be easy, so the prospect of it was ever 
in his view. They feared, that at some time or 
other this might make him both sacrifice popery, and 
forsake France. So they took all possible methods 
to engage the king to a more entire dependence 
on France, and to a distrust of his own people. 
They were labouring for a general peace in all 
courts where they had any interest. The prince of 
Orange's obstinacy was the common subject of their 
complaints. Lord Shaftsbury tried, upon the duke's 
concurring in the vote for an address to have the 
parliament dissolved, if he could separate him from 
the earl of Danby. And he sent a message to him 
by the lord Stafford, that his voting as he did in 
that matter had gained much on many who were for-p 
merly his enemies : he wished he would use his in^- 
terest with the king to get that brought about; 
and he durst undertake, that a new parliament 
should be more inclinable to grant the papists a to-r 
leration, than they would ever find this would prove. 

But the duke and lord Danby were too firmly coieman'* 
united to be easily divided ; for whatever lord Danby "* 
gave out, he made the duke believe, that all that he 
intended would really turn to his service. Coleman 
was very busy in writing many letters to all places, 
but chiefly to the court of France. He was in all 
his despatches setting forth the good st^te of the 


1676. duke's affairs, and the great strength he was daily 
QQ4 gaining. He was either very sanguine, if he be- 
lieved this himself, or very bold in offering to im- 
pose it so positively on others. He was always full 
of assurances, that, if a peace could be brought 
about, so that the king of France was set at liberty 
to assist them with his purse and his force, they 
were never in such hopes of succeeding in the great 
design of rooting out this pestilent heresy, that had 
so long overrun these northern kingdoms, as now. 
He had a friend, one sir William Throgmorton, of 
whom he intended to make great use. He and his 
wife had prevailed with him and his lady to change 
their religion. And so he sent them over to France, 
recommending him to the king's confessor, F. Fer- 
rier, as a man that might do them great service, if 
he could be made one of theirs. So Ferrier, looking 
on him as a man of importance, applied himself to 
turn him, which was soon done. And the confes- 
sor, to raise the value of his convert, spoke of him to 
the king in such a strain, that he was much consi- 
dered. When his lady abjured, the duke of Orleans 
led her up to the altar. He took great state on 
him, and soon spent all he had. He was a busy 
man between the two courts. But before he got 
into any considerable post, Ferrier died: and the 
new confessor did not take such care of him as his 
predecessor had done. So he was forced to quit his 
«*ii«mo}<.'.j high living, and retire to a private house. And he 
Sent liis lady into a monastery. Yet he continued 
Still to be Coleman's agent and correspondent. He 
went often to see an English lady, that was of 
their religion, lady Brown. And being one day with 
her, he received a deep wound by a knife struck into 
his thigh, that pierced the great artery. Whether 


the lady did it to defend herself, or he to shew the 1076. 
violence of his passion, was not known. It was not 
possible to stop the bleeding. Yet the lady would 
have him carried out of her house. He died in the 
house of one Hollman, an eminent man of their re- 
ligion, then at Paris. The whole matter was car- 
ried off in such secrecy, that Lockhart, then at 
Paris, could never penetrate further into it. I had 
this from his lady after his death. [I love not to 
make judgments on extraordinary events ; but this 
man's fate, and Coleman's, together with his wife's, 
who cut her own throat, and had a large share in 
all he did, were no usual things.] l^i 

Coleman quickly found out another correspond- 
ent, that was more useful to him than he whom 
he lost could ever have been, F. St. German, a Je- 
suit, who was sent over with the duchess, and passed 
for her confessor, though I have been assured that 
was a mistake. He had all the heat of his order in 
him, and was apt to talk very boldly. I was some- 
times in company with him. He was complained of 
in council by the bishop of London for some practice 
on one that was come over a convert, whom he was 
between threatening and persuasion working on, in 
order to the sending him back. This came to be 
discovered. Upon which he fled. And on him Cole- 
man fixed for his chief correspondent. Howard was 
about this time by cardinal Altieri's means promoted 
•to be a cardinal. And upon that the king and duke 395 
sent compliments to Rome. This opened a nego- 
tiation with that court, that was put in the hands of 
the internuncio at Brussels. So it was proposed, 
that a sum of money should be given the king, if 
in return of tha^ some suitable favours for those of 


1676. their religion could be obtained. Coleman was sent 
over by the duke to Brussels, to treat about it, none 
being in the secret but the lord Arundell. Yet, as 
he understood it, the king himself knew of it. When 
he went thither, he found the sum offered was so 
smaU, and the conditions demanded were so high, 
that he made no progress in the negotiation. What- 
ioeret Coleman did in the main business, he took 
good care of himself. All his letters were full of 
their being able to do nothing for want of money. 
And he made the French ambassador believe, he 
eould do his master great service, if he was weU sup- 
plied. He got once 2500 guineas from him, to gain 
his master some friends. But he applied it all to 
furnish out his own expense. He was at that time 
so lifted up, that he had a mind to pass for the head 
6f the party. And of this I will give one instance, 
in which I my self had a share. 

Sir Philip Terwhit, a papist, had married a zea- 
lous protestant, who suspecting his religion, charged 
him with it. But he denied it before marriage; 
and carried that so far, that he received the sacra- 
inent with her in her own church. After they were 
tnarried, she found that he had deceived her; and 
they lived untowardly together. At this time some 
scruples were put in her head, with which she ac- 
quainted me, and seemed fully satisfied with the an- 
swers that I gave her. She came afterwards to me, 
and desired I would come to her house, and talk of 
all those matters with some that her husband would 
bring to meet us. I told her, I would not decline 
the thing, if desired, though I seldom knew good 
come of such conferences. She made the same pro- 


position to Dr. Stillingfleet ; and he gave the same 167(5. 
answer. So a day was set, and we went thither, ^ ^^^^ 
and found ten or twelve persons, that were nof^*"*"*^- 

^ tween Cole- 

known to us. We were scarce set down, when man and 

some di- 

Coleman came in, who took the whole debate upon vines, 
him. I writ down a very exact account of all that 
passed, and sent it to them, and had their additions 
to it : and I printed it. The thing made a great 
noise, and was a new indication of Coleman's ar- 
rogance. Soon after that, the lady, who continued 
firm upon this conference, was possessed with new 
scruples about the validity of our ordinations. I got 
from her the paper that was put in her hand, and 
■answered it: and she seemed satisfied with that 
likewise. But afterwards the uneasiness of her life 
prevailed more on her than her scruples did; and 
she changed her religion. 

Some time after I had printed the memoirs of the ^ '">'^«r- 

^ took to 

dukes of Hamilton, which were favourably received, wnte the 
the reading of these got me the acquaintance andou*r*rXr- 
friendship of sir William Jones, then attorney gene-^^^' 
raL He was raised to that high post merely by 
merit, and by his being thought the greatest man of 
the law : for, as he was no flatterer, but a man of a 
morose temper, so he was against all the measures 
that they took at court. They were weary of him, and 
were raising sir John King to vie with him : but he 
died in his rise, which indeed went on very quick. 
Jones was an honest and wise man. He had a 
roughness in his deportment that was very disagree- 
able : but he was a good natured man at bottom, 
and a faithful friend. He grew weary of his em- 
ployment, and laid it down : and though the great 
seal was offered him, he would not accept of it, nor 


1676. return to business. The quickness of his thoughts 
carried his views far. And the sourness of his tem- 
per made him too apt both to suspect and to despise 
most of those that came to him. My way of writing 
history [made him think I was cut out for if.] 
And so he pressed me to undertake the history of 
England ''. But Sanders's book, that was then trans- 
lated into French, and cried up much in France, 
■made all my friends [conclude I was the fittest man^^] 
to answer it, by writing the history of the reforma- 
tion. So now all my thoughts were turned that 
way. I laid out for MSS. and searched into all of- 
fices. I got for some days into the Cotton library. 
But duke Lauderdale, hearing of my design, and ap- 
prehending it might succeed in my hands, got Dol- 
ben, bishop of Rochester, to divert sir John Cotton 
from suffering me to search into his library. He told 
him, I was a great enemy to the prerogative, to 
which Cotton was devoted, even to slavery '^. So he 

Ulir"- * The editors substituted, magistrate to use his discretion 
pleased him. upon extraordinary occasions, 
^ Very modest. S. where the rigor of the law may 
^ Press me was substituted. prove unjust or oppressive, and 
<= The word prerogative has to exercise the supreme author- 
been much used, though seldom ity in all- cases where the law 
understood, and as little by the has not directed or limited the 
bishop as any. The notion the execution. But which way sir 
greatest men of our law have John Cotton, who was a very 
had of it, has been, that it is a worthy honest gentleman, that 
power lodged in the crown for understood and loved the con- 
which there is no law, but not stitution of his country, could 
repugnant to any law. The be devoted, even to slavery, to 
meaning is, the execution of the prerogative, the bishop 
the law being vested in the would have done well to have 
Jking, and it being impossible produced some better proof for, 
the legislature should foresee than his own saying so. Biit I 
all cases that may happen, have believe nobody will wonder at 
left a power with the chief his being cautious how he 


said, I would certainly make an ill use of all I had 16; 6. 
found. This wrought so much on him, that I was 
no more admitted, till my first volume was pub- 
lished. And then, when he saw how I had composed 
it, he gave me free access to it. 

At this time the earl of Essex was brought over The eari of 
from being lord lieutenant of Ireland, whose friend- racter. 
ship to me was afterwards such, that I think my self 
obliged to stop, and to give some account of him. 
He was the lord Capell's son. His education was 
neglected by reason of the war. But, when he was 
at man's age, he made himself master of the Latin 
tongue, and made a great progress in mathematics, 
and in all the other parts of learning. He knew our 
law and constitution well, and was a very thought- 
ful man. He began soon to appear against the court. 
The king imputed it to his resentments : so he re- 
solved to make use of him. He sent him ambassador 
to Denmark, where his behaviour in the affair of 
the flag gained him much reputation : though he 
said to me, there was nothing in it. That king had 
ordered the governor of Croonenburgh to make all 
ships that passed strike to him. So when lord Essex 
was sailing by, he sent to him, either to strike to 
him, or to sail by in the night, or to keep out of his 
reach : otherwise he must shoot, first with powder, 
but next with ball. Lord Essex sent him a resolute 
answer, that the kings of England made others strike 
to them, but their ships struck to none : he would 397 
not steal through in the dark, nor keep out of his 

trusted a Scotch divine in nor duke Lauderdale had inter- 

seurching for English records, posed. D. 
though neither bishop Dolben 



16/6: reach : and if he shot at him, he would defend him- 
His employ- self. The govemoF did shoot at him, but on design 
ment in gjjQj. q^^j. JjJj^^ This was thought great bravery in 
him : yet he reckoned, it was impossible the gover- 
nor would endeavour to sink a ship that brought 
over an ambassador. While he was there, the king 
,. died, which made a great change in the court. For 
that king had made one of his servants stadtholder ; 
which was indeed a strange thing, he himself being 
upon the place. He was but a mean person, and 
was advanced by the favour the queen bore him. 
Lord Essex's first business was to justify his beha- 
viour in refusing to strike. Now at his going from 
England sir John Cotton had desired him to take 
some volumes of his library that related to Danish 
affairs ; which he took, without apprehending that 
he should have great occasion to use them : but this 
accident made him search into them. And he found 
very good materials to justify his conduct ; since by 
formal treaties it had been expressly stipulated, that 
the English ships of war should not strike in the 
Danish seas. This raised his character so high at 
court, that it was writ over to him, that he might ex- 
pect every thing he should pretend to at his return. 
The change of government that he saw in Denmark, 
and the bringing it about with so little difficulty, 
made a great impression on him : since one of the 
freest nations in the world was on a sudden brought 
r() under a most arbitrary form of government. Many 
of the ancient nobility seemed uneasy under the 
change. And even the chancellor himself, though 
raised by favour from very mean beginnings, could 
not forbear to lament even to him the change of 
their constitution. 

ii .U .J07 


Upon his return from Denmark, he was made lord 1676. 

lieutenant of Ireland. He could never understand And his go- 
how he came to be raised to that post ; for he had [reiand"* ^^ 
not pretended to it : and he was a violent enemy to 
popery ; not so much from any fixed principle in re- 
ligion, in which he was too loose, as because he 
looked on it as an invasion made on the freedom of 
human nature. In his government of Ireland he ex- 
ceeded all that had gone before him ; and is still 
considered as a pattern to aU that come after him. 
He studied to understand exactly well the constitu- 
tion, and interest of the nation. He read over all 
their council books ; and made large abstracts out of 
them, to guide him, so as to advance every thing that 
had been at any time set on foot for the good of the 
kingdom. He made several volumes of tables of the 
state, and persons that were in every county and 
town ; and got true characters of all that were ca- 
pable to serve the public. And he preferred men 
always upon merit, without any application from 
themselves; and watched over all about him, that 
there should be no bribes going among his servants. 
The revenue of Ireland was then in the earl of Ra- 
nelagh's management ; who was one of the ablest 398 
men that island had bred, capable of all affairs, even 
in the midst of a loose run of pleasure, and much 
riot. He had the art of pleasing masters of very dif- 
ferent tempers and interests so much, that he con- 
tinued above thirty years in great posts. He had 
undertaken to furnish the king with money for the 
building of Windsor out of the revenue of Ireland. 
And it was believed the duchess of Portsmouth had 
a great yearly pension out of his office. By this 
means payments in Ireland were not regularly made. 

H 2 


1676. So the earl of Essex complained of this. The king 

would not own how much he had from lord Rane- 

lagh, but pressed lord Essex to pass his accounts. He 
answered, he could not pass them as accounts : but, if 
the king would forgive lord Ranelagh, he would pass 
a discharge, but not an ill account. The king was 
not pleased with this, nor with his exactness in that 
government : it reproached his own too much. So 
he took a resolution about this time to put the duke 
of Ormond in it again. Upon this occasion the earl 
of Essex told me, that he knew the king did often 
take money into his privy purse, to defraud his ex- 
chequer : for he reckoned that what was carried thi- 
ther, was not so much his own, as his privy purse 
was. And Coventry told lord Essex, that there 
was once a plantation-cause at the council board : 
and he was troubled to see the king espouse the 
worst side : and upon that he went to him, and told 
him secretly, that it was a vile cause which he was 
supporting: the king answered him, he had got 
good money for doing it. 

About this time there was a proposition made for 
farming the revenue of Ireland. And lord Danby 
seemed for some time to favour one set of men, who 
offered to farm it. But on the sudden he turned to 
another. The secret of this broke out, that he was 
to have great advantages by the second proposition. 
The matter was brought to the council table : and 
some were examined to it upon oath. Lord Wid- 
drington did confess that he made offer of a round 
sum to lord Danby, but said that he did not accept 
of it. Lord Hallifax was yet of the council. So he 
observed that the lord treasurer had rejected that 
offer very mildly ; but not so as to discourage a se- 


cond attempt: it would be somewhat strange, if a 1676. 

man should ask the use of another man's wife, and if 

the other should indeed refuse it, but with great ci- 
vility. This nettled lord Danby, who upon that got 
him to be dismissed from that board : at which the 
duke was much pleased, who hated lord HaUifax at 
that time, more even than the earl of Shaftsbury 
himself; for he had fallen severely on the declara- 
tion for toleration in the house of lords. He said, if 
we could make good the eastern compliment, O king", 
live for ever I he could trust the king with every 
thing ; but since that was so much a compliment, 
that it could never become real, he could not be im- 
plicit in his confidence. Thus matters went on all 
1676, and to the beginning of the (year) 1677, when 399 
another session of parliament was held. I have 
brought within this year several things that may be 
of use to enlighten the reader as to the state of 
things, though perhaps of their own nature they were 
not important enough to deserve to be told. But in 
so bare a year, as this proved to be, it seemed no im- 
pertinent digression, to bring all such matters into 
the reader's way. 

I shall next give some account of Scotish affairs, tjic affairs 
The duke of Lauderdale had mastered the opposi-** *^° *" ' 
tion made to him so entirely, that men were now 
though silent, not quiet ^. The field conventicles in- 
creased mightily. Men came to them armed. And 
upon that great numbers were outlawed : and a writ 
was issued out, that was indeed legal, but very sel- 
dom used, called intercammoning : because it made 

^ Nonsense, or printer's mistake. It should be, nUntj though 
not quiet. S. 



1676. all that harboured such persons, or did not seize 
them, when they had it in their power, to be in- 
volved in the same guilt. By this means many, ap- 
prehending a severe prosecution, left their houses, 
and went about like a sort of banditti, and fell un- 
der a fierce and savage temper. The privy council 
upon this pretended they were in a state of war. 
And upon an old statute, that was almost quite for- 
got, it was set on foot, that the king had a power to 
take any castle that lay convenient for his forces, 
and put a garrison in it. So twelve houses were 
marked out : of which two were the chief dwelling- 
houses of two peers. The rest were the houses of 
gentlemen, that had gone into the party against 
duke Lauderdale. And though these were houses 
of no strength, and not at all properly situated for 
the suppressing of conventicles, yet they were taken. 
Soldiers were put in them. And the countries about 
were required to furnish those small garrisons with 
all things necessary. This was against the express 
words of the law that had lately settled the militia. 
Great opposition was made to it. Yet it was kept 
up above a year, till the houses were quite ruined by 
the rude soldiers, who understood that the more 
waste they made, it would be the more acceptable. 
At last it was let fall. t'*fM> miff 

Another thing happened, scarce worth mention- 
ing, if it was not for the effects that followed on it. 
One Carstairs, a loose and vicious gentleman ^, who 
had ruined his estate, undertook to Sharp to go 
about in disguise to see those conventicles, and to 
carry some with him to witness against such as 

^ Epithets well placed, S. 


they saw at them; in which he himself was not to 1676. 
appear : but he was to have a proportion of all the 
fines that should be set upon this evidence : and he 
was to have so much for every one of their teachers 
that he could catch. He had many different dis- 
guises, and passed by different names in every one 
of them. He found Kirkton, an eminent preacher 
among them, who was as cautious as the rest were 
bold, and had avoided all suspicious and dangerous 
meetings. Carstairs, seeing him walking on the 
streets of Edenburgh, told him, there was a person 
that was sick, and sent him to beg a visit from him. 
He suspecting nothing went with him. Carstairs 400 
brought him to his own lodgings ; and there he told 
him, he had a warrant against him, which he would 
execute, if he would not give him money to let him 
alone. Kirkton said, he had not offended, and was 
willing to go to prison till his innocence should ap- 
pear. Carstairs really had no warrant : but, as was 
afterwards discovered, he had often taken this me- 
thod, and had got money by it. So he went out to 
procure a warrant, and left Kirkton locked up in 
his chamber. Kirkton called to the people of the 
house : and told them how he was trepanned. And 
he got one of them to seek Baillie of Jerviswood, his 
brother-in-law, who was a gentleman of great parts, 
but of much greater virtue. [He was indeed deeply 
possessed with those principles, but was otherwise a 
most extraordinary man.] Carstairs could not find 
nine privy counsellors to sign a warrant, which were 
the number required by law. Yet when he came 
back, he pretended he had a warrant, and would 
force Kirkton to go to prison upon it. Kirkton re- 

H 4 


1676. fused to obey any such warrant, till he saw it. And 
upon that Carstairs struggled, and puUed him to 
the ground, and sate on him, the other crying out 
murder. At that time Baillie came to the door : 
and, hearing him cry out, he called to Carstairs to 
open the door : and, that not being done, he forced 
it, and found Carstairs sitting upon Kirkton. He 
drew his sword, and made him come off him. He 
then asked him, what warrant he had to use him as 
he did ? He said, he had a warrant to carry him to 
prison : but he refused to shew it. Baillie offered 
to assist in executing it, if he had any : but he per- 
sisted in this, that he was not bound to shew it. 
Baillie made Kirkton to go out ; and followed him, 
no violence being used; for which he had many 
witnesses, whom the noise had brought together. 
And he said, he was resolved to sue Carstairs for 
this riot. But before the next council-day a war- 
rant was signed by nine privy counsellors, but ante- 
dated, for the committing of Kirkton, and of six or 
seven more of their preachers. Lord Athol told me, 
he was one of those who signed it with that false 
date to it. So BaiUie was cited before the council : 
Carstairs produced his warrant, which he pretended 
he had at the time that Earkton was in his hands, 
but did not think fit to shew, since that would dis- 
cover the names of others, against whom he was 
also to make use of it. BaiUie brought his wit- 
nesses to prove his behaviour. But they would not 
so much as examine them. It was said, that upon 
Carstairs saying he had a warrant, Kirkton was 
bound to go to gaol ; and that, if it had been found 
that he was carried thither without a warrant, the 


gaoler would not have received him. Duke Hamil- jQ^g 

ton and lord Kinkardin were yet upon the council. 

And they argued long against this way of proceed- 
ing, as liker a court of inquisition than a legal 
government. Yet Baillie was fined five hundred 
pounds, and condemned to a year's imprisonment. 
And upon this an occasion was taken to turn duke 
Hamilton and lord Kinkardin out of the council, as 
enemies to the church, and as favourers of conven- 

The parliament of England had been prorogued 1677. 
for about a year and some months, by two different rau "d ln°° 
prorogations. One of these was for more than a^^^yj"jg 
year. So upon that it was made a question, whe- i^s^^'ty of » 

•' * ■*• proroga- 

ther by that the parliament was not dissolved. Thetion. 
argument for it was laid thus. By the ancient laws 
a parhament was to be held once a year, atid oft- 
ener if need be : it was said, the words, if need be, 
in one act, which were not in another that enacted 
an annual parliament without that addition, did not 
belong to the whole period, by which a session was 
only to be held once a year if it was needful ; but 
belonged only to the word oftener : so that the law 
was positive for a parliament once a year : and if so, 
then any act contrary to that law was an unlawful 
act : by consequence, it could have no operation : 
from whence it was inferred, that the prorogation 
which did run beyond a year, and by consequence 
made that the parliament could not sit that year, 
was illegal ; and that therefore the parliament could 
not sit by virtue of such an illegal act. Lord 
Shaftsbury laid hold on this with great joy, and 
he thought to work his point by it. The duke of 


1677. Buckingham was for every thing that would em- 
broil matters ^ The earl of Salisbury was brought 
into it, who was a high-spirited man, and had a 
very ill opinion of the court. Lord Wharton went 
also into it. And lord HoUis writ a book for it : 
but a fit of the gout kept him out of the way. All 
the rest of the party was against it. They said, it 
was a subtUty : and it was very dangerous to hang 
so much weight upon such weak grounds. The 
words, if need be, had been understood to belong to 
the whole act : and the long parliament did not 

-Tv pretend to make annual parliaments necessary, but 
insisted only on a triennial parliament : if there had 
been need of a parliament during that long proro- 
gation, the king by proclamation might have dis- 
solved it, and called a new one. All that knew the 
' temper of the house of commons were much trou- 
bled at this dispute, that was like to rise on such a 
point. It was very certain the majority of both 
houses, who only could judge it, would be against 
it. And they thought such an attempt to force a 
dissolution, would make the commons do every 

^ He said in his speech on " laoe with, and therefore de- 

this occasion, " That ancient " sired to keep it." These last 

" statutes were not like women, words of this duke are very like 

" the worse for being old." his manner, and have been ge- 

" That the words of the sta- nerally asserted to have been 

*' tute were as plain as a pike- spoken by him, and mentioned 

" staff." I mention these as a to be so by several historians; 

specimen of the style of a wit, but the words are not in the 

and of him, who upon his de- Report made by the solicitor" 

livering to the commons, at a general (Finch) of the confer- 

conference, the lord Claren- ence. See Journal of the House 

don's apology, sent to the lords of Commons of 4th December 

upon his withdrawing out of 1667. The solicitor was a 

the kingdom, said, " the lords grave man. O. (The duke had 

*' desired to have it again, for before called it, " This scandal- 

** it had a style they were in " ous and seditious pajjer.") 


thing that the court desired. Lord Hallifax set 1677. 
himself much against this ; and did it not without 
expressing great sharpness against lord Shaftsbury, 
who could not be managed in this matter. So, 
upon the first opening the session, the debate was 
brought on : and these lords stood against the whole 
house. That matter was soon decided by a question. 

But then a second debate rose, which held for 402 
two days, whether these lords were not liable to 
censure, for offering a debate, that might create 
great distractions in the subjects' minds, concern- 
ing the legality of parliament. Lord Hallifax, with 
the rest of the party, argued against it strongly. 
They said, if an idle motion was made, and check- 
ed at first, he that made it might be censured for 
it, though it was seldom, if ever, to be practised 
in a free council, where every man was not bound 
to be wise, nor to make no impertinent motion : 
but when the motion was entertained, and a de- 
bate followed, and a question was put upon it, it 
was destructive to the freedom of public councils, 
to call any one to an account for it : they might The lords 
With the same justice call them to an account for it sent to 
their debates and votes : so that no man was safe, 
unless he could know where the majority would be : - 
here would be a precedent to tip down so many 
lords at a time, and to garboil the house, as often 
as any party should have a great majority. It 
was said, on the other hand, here was a design to 
put the nation into great disorder, and to bring the 
legality of a parliament into dispute. So it was 
carried to oblige them to ask pardon as delinquents : 
otherwise it was resolved to send them to the tower. 
They refused to ask pardon ; and so were sent thi- 


1677. ther. The earl of Salisbury was the first that was 
called on : for the duke of Buckingham went out of 
the house. He desired he might have his servants 
to wait on him : and the first he named was his 
cook; which the king resented highly, as carrying 
in it an insinuation of the worst soit. The earl of 
Shaftsbury made the same demand. But the lord 
Wharton did not ask for his cook. The duke of 
Buckingham came in next day ; and was sent after 
them to the Tower. And they were ordered to 
continue prisoners during the pleasure of the house, 
or during the king's pleasure. They were much 
visited. So to check that, though no complaint was 
made of their behaviour, they were made close pri- 
soners, not to be visited without leave from the 
king or the house : and particular observations 
were made of all those that asked leave. This was 
much cried out on : and the earl of Danby's long 
imprisonment afterwards, was thought a just reta- 
liation for the violence with which he drove this 
on. Three of the lords lay in the Tower for some 
months: but they were set at liberty upon their 
petitioning the king. Lord Shaftsbury would not 
petition : but he moved in the king's bench that he 
403 might be discharged. The king's justice, he said, 
was to be dispensed in that court. The court said, 
he was committed by an order from the house of 
lords, which was a court superior to them : so they 
could take no cognizance of the matter. Lord 
Danby censured this motion highly, as done in con- 
tempt of the house of lords; and said, he would 
make use of it against him next session of parlia-. 
ment. Yet he was often forced to make the same 
motion at that bar: and he complained of the in- 


justice of the court for refusing to bail or discharge 1677. 
him, though in that they followed the precedent 
which at this time was directed by himself. 

The debate about the dissolution of the parlia- Proceedings 
ment s had the effect in the house of commons that ment! **" 
was foreseen : for the commons were much inflamed 
against lord Shaftsbury and his party. They at 
first voted 600,000/. for the building thirty ships: 
for they resolved to begin with a popular bill. A 
clause was put in the bill by the country party, that 
the money should be accounted for to the commons, 
in hope that the lords would alter that clause, and 
make it accountable to both houses; which was 
done by the lords, and conferences were held upon 
it. The lords thought, that, since they paid their 
share of the tax, it was not reasonable to exclude 
them from the accounts. The commons adhered to 
their clause : and the bill was in great danger of 
being lost. But the king prevailed with the lords i>i 
to recede. An additional excise, that had been for- 
merly given, was now falling: so they continued 
that for three years longer. And they were in all 
things so compliant, that the court had not for many 

E But the validity of the pro- perplexed, especially as against 

rogation was much debated the prorc^ation, although the 

there, not as making a dissolu- length of ttie prorogation was 

tion of the parliament, but leav- a very silly measure. See Jour- 

ing the parliament under the nal of the House of Commons 

former adjournment, and so this of i6th, &c. of February, 1676. 

no new session, on this matter. Note, this MS. collection of de- 

upon the question for naming bates above mentioned, though 

the grand conmiittees, there called Mr. A. Gray's, I have 

was a division of 193 for the proof, from a particular in it, 

prorogation, and 142 against that some part of it was made 

it. I have seen a good MS. ac- by Mr. Richard May, recorder 

count of this debate, (in a col- of, and member for, Chiches- 

lection of Mr. Anchistel Gray's,) ter. O. 
which appears there to be very 


1677. years had so hopeful a session as this was. But all 
was changed of a sudden. 
Affairs in The king* of France was then makinff one of his 

Flanders. , . . ■, • ^ -, c 

early campaigns in 1< landers ; m which he at first 
took Valenciennes, and then divided his army in 
two. He with one besieged Cambray : and the other, 
commanded by his brother, besieged St. Omer. But, 
though I intend to say little of foreign affairs, yet 
where I came to the knowledge of particulars that I 
have not seen in any printed relations, I wiU venture 
to set them down. Turenne's death was a great 
blow to the king of France ; but not to his minis- 
ters, whom he despised, and who hated him. But 
the king had such a personal regard to him, that 
they were afraid of opposing him too much. He 
was both the most cautious and the most obliging 
general that ever commanded an army. He had the 
art of making every man love him, except those 
404 that thought they came in some competition with 
him : for he was apt to treat them with too much 
contempt. It was an extraordinary thing that a 
random cannon shot should have kiUed him^. He 
sat by the balance of his body a while on the saddle, 
but fell down dead in the place : and a great design 
he had, which probably would have been fatal to the 
German army, died with him. The prince of Cond^ 
was sent to command the army, to his great afflic- 
tion: for this was a declaration that he was esteemed 
inferior to Turenne, which he could not well bear, 
though he was inferior to him in all that related to 
the command ; unless it was in a day of battle, in 
which the presence of mind, and vivacity of thought, 

^ How extraordinary? might it not kill him as well as any other 
man ? S. 


which were wonderful in him, gave him some ad- 1677. 
vantage. But he had too much pride to be so oblig- "^ 

ing as a general ought to be. And he was too much 
a slave to pleasure, and gamed too much, to have 
that constant application to his business that the 
other had. He was entirely lost in the king's good 
opinion, not only by reason of his behaviour during 
his minority, but after that was forgiven, once when 
the king was ill, not without apprehensions, he sent 
for him, and recommended his son to his care, in 
case he should die at that time. But he, instead of 
receiving this as a gi-eat mark of confidence, with 
due acknowledgments, expostulated upon the ill 
usage he had met with. The king recovered ; but 
never forgot that treatment, and took all occasions 
to mortify him ; which the ministers knew well, and 
seconded him in it : so that, bating the outward re- 
spect due to his birth, they treated him very hardly 
in all his pretensions. 

The French king came down to Flanders in 76, The French 
and first took Conde, and then besieged Bouchain. ci'Sdl 
The siege went on in form : and the king lay with oJeredt*/" 
an army covering it, when on a sudden the prince the prince 
of Orange drew his army together, and went up al- 
most to the king's camp, offering him battle. All 
the marshals and generals concluded that battle was 
to be given, and that the war would be that day 
ended. The king heard all this coldly. Schomberg 
was newly made a marshal, and had got great ho- 
nour the year before against the prince of Orange, 
in raising the siege of Maestricht. He commanded 
in a quarter at some distance. The king said he 
would come to no resolution, till he heard his opin- 
ion. Louvoy sent for him by a . cpnfidejit person^ 


1677. whom he ordered to tell him what had happened; 
and that, in any opinion he was to give, he must 
consider the king's person. So, when he came to 
405 the king's tent, a council of war was called; and 
Schomberg was ordered to deliver his opinion first. 
He said, the king was there on design to cover the 
siege of Bouchain : a young general was come up 
on a desperate humour to offer him battle : he did 
not doubt, but it would be a glorious decision of the 
war: but the king ought to consider his own de- 
signs, and not to be led out of these by any bravado, 
or even by the great hope of success : the king 
ought to remain in his post, till the place was taken : 
otherwise he suffered another man to be the master 
of his counsels and actions. When the place was 
taken, then he was to come to new counsels : but 
till then, he thought he was to pursue his first de- 
sign. The king said Schomberg was in the right : 
and he was applauded that day, as a better courtier 
than a general. I had all this from his own mouth. 
To this I will add a pleasant passage, that the 
prince of Cond^ told young Rouvigny, now earl of 
Galway. The king of France has never yet fought 
a battle ; and has a mighty notion of that matter : 
and, it seems, he apprehends the danger of it too 
much. Once he was chiding the prince of Conti 
for his being about to fight a combat with a man of 
quality. The king told him, he ought to consider 
the dignity of his blood, and not put himself on the 
level with other subjects ; and that his uncle had 
declined fighting on that very account. The prince 
of Conti answered, My uncle might well have done 
so, after he had won two battles ; but I, who have 
yet done nothing, must pretend to no such distinc- 


tion. The king told this answer to the prince of 1677. 
Cond^, who saw he was nettled with it. So he 
said to him, that his nephew had in that spoke like 
a young man : for winning of a battle was no great 
matter ; since, though he who commanded had the 
glory of it, yet it was the subalterns that did the 
business : in which he thought he pleased the king ; 
and for which he laughed heartily at him, when he 
told the story. The late king*^ told me, that in 
these campaigns the Spaniards were both so igno- 
rant and so backward, so proud and yet so weak, 
that they would never own their feebleness or their 
wants to him. They pretended they had stores, 
when they had none; and thousands, when they 
scarce had hundreds. He had in their counsels 
often desired, that they would give him only a true 
state of their garrisons and magazines. But they 
always gave it false. So that for some campaigns 
all was lost, merely because they deceived him in 
the strength they pretended they had. At last he 
Ijelieved nothing they said, but sent his own officers 
to examine every thing. Monterey was a wise man, 
and a good governor, but was a coward. Villa Her- 406 
mosa was a brave man, but ignorant and weak. 
Thus the prince had a sad time of it every cam- 
paign. But none was so unhappy as this : in which, 
upon the loss of Valenciennes, he looking on St. 
Omer as more important than Cambray, went thi- 
ther, and ventured a battle too rashly. Luxem- 
bourgh, with a great body of horse, came into the 
duke of Orleans's army, just as they were engaging. 
Some regiments of marines, on whom the prince de- 

k William. S. 



1677. pended much, did basely run away. Yet the other 

bodies fought so well, that he lost not much, besides 

cambray the honour of the day '. But upon that St. Omer 

and St, . ^ ^ 

Omer did immediately capitulate, as Cambray did some 
days after. It was thought, that the king was jea- 
lous of the honour his brother had got in that ac- 
tion ; for he never had the command of an army 
after that time : and, courage being the chief good 
quality that he had, it was thought his having no 
occasion given him to show it flowed from some 
particular reason. 
The house Thcsc things happening during this session of 
mons parliament, made great impression on all people's 

pressed • « • 

the king mmds. Sir W. Coventry opened the busmess m 
in tHr^^ the house of commons : and shewed the danger of 
all these provinces falling under the power of 
France ; which must end in the ruin of the united 
provinces, if a timely stop were not put to the pro- 
gress the French were making. He demonstrated, 
that the interest of England made it necessary for 
the king to withdraw his mediation, and enter into 
the alliance against France : and the whole house 
went into this. There were great complaints made 
of the regiments that the king kept in the French 
army, and of the great service that was done by 
them. It is true, the king suffered the Dutch to 
make levies. But there was another sort of encou- 
ragement given to the levies for France, particularly 
in Scotland; where it looked liker a press than a 
levy. They had not only the public gaols given 
them to keep their men in : but, when these were 
full, they had the castle of Edenburgh assigned 

' He was used to that. S. 


them, till ships were ready for their transport. 1677. 
Some, that were put in prison for conventicles, 
were, by order of council, delivered to their officers. 
The Spanish ambassador heard of this, and made 
great complaints upon it. So a proclamation was 
ordered, prohibiting any more levies. But duke 
Lauderdale kept it up some days, and writ down to 
hasten the levies away; for a proclamation was 
coming down against them. They were all shipped 
off, but had not sailed, when the proclamation came 
down : yet it was kept up till they sailed away. 
One of the ships was driven back by stress of wea- 
ther : but no care was taken to execute the pro- 407 
clamation. So apparently was that kingdom in a 
French management. 

The house of commons pressed the king, by re- 
peated addresses, to fall into the interest of Europe, 
as well as into his own. The king was uneasy at 
this, and sent them several angry messages. Peace 
and war, he said, were undoubtedly matters within 
his prerogative, in which they ought not to meddle. 
And the king in common discourse remembered 
often the parliament's engaging his father and 
grandfather in the affairs of Germany, and to break 
the match with Spain, which proved fatal to them : 
and he resolved not to be served in such a manner. 
Upon this occasion, lord Danby saw his error, of 
neglecting the leading men, and reckoning upon a 
majority, such as could be made : for these leading 
men did so entangle the debates, and overreached 
those on whom he had practised, that they, working '^ ' 
on the aversion that the English nation naturally 
has to a French interest, spoiled the hopefullest ses- 
sion the court had had of a great while, before the 

I 2 


1^77- court was well aware of it '". The king, who was 
yet firmly united with France, dismissed them with 
a very angry speech, checking them for going so 
far in matters that were above them, and that be- 
longed only to him : though they brought to him 
many precedents in the reigns of the highest spi- 
rited of all our kings, in which parliaments had not 
only offered general advices, aljout the entering into 
wars, but even special ones, as to the conduct that 
was to be held in them. The whole nation thought 
it a great happiness, to see a session that lord 
Shaftsbury's wilfulness had, as it were, driven in to 
the court, end with doing so little mischief; far con- 
trary to all men's expectations. 
Danby de- When the scssiou was over, lord Danby saw his 
gainst ruin was inevitable, if he could not bring the king 
France, ^g. from a Frcuch interest : upon which he set him- 
self much to it. And, as he talked with an extra- 
ordinary zeal against France on all occasions, so he 
pressed the king much to follow the advices of his 
parliament. The king seemed to insist upon this, 
that he would once have a peace made, upon the 
grounds that he had concerted with France : and, 
when that was done, he would enter next day into 
the alliance. But he stood much upon this ; that 
having once engaged with France in the war, he 
could not with honour turn against France till it 
was at an end. This was such a refining in a point 
of honour, which that king had not on all other oc- 
casions considered so much, that all men believed 
408 there was somewhat else at the bottom. The earl 
of Danby continued to give, by sir WiUiam Tem- 

^ Courff couft, rare style ! S. 


pie, all possible assurances to the prince of Orange, 1677. 
pressing him likewise to make some compliances on 
his side. And he gave him great hopes of bringing 
about a marriage with the duke's daughter ; which ,^^ 

was universally desired by all the protestant party, 
both at home and abroad. Great offers were made 
to the duke to draw him into the alliance. He was 
offered the command of the whole force of the allies. 
And he seemed to be wrought on by the prospect of 
so great an authority. There was a party that 
were still very jealous of lord Danby in all this mat- 
ter. Some thought all this was artifice ; that a war 
would be offered to the next session, only to draw 
money from the parliament, and thereby to raise an 
army; and that, when the army was raised, and 
much money given to support it, all would be sold 
to France for another great sum ; and that the par- 
liament would be brought to give the money to pay 
an army for some years, till the nation should be 
subdued to an entire compliance with the court. It 
was given out, that this must be the scheme by 
which he maintained himself in the king and the 
duke's confidence, even when he declared himself an 
open enemy to that which they were still support- 
ing. This he did with so little decency, that at 
Bancroft's consecration dinner, he began a health, to 
the confusion of all that were not for a war with 
France. He got the prince of Orange to ask the 
king's leave to come over at the end of the cam- 
paign: with which the court of France was not 
pleased; for they suspected a design for the mar- 
riage. But the king assured Barillon, who was 
lately sent over ambeissador in Courtin's place, that 
there was not a thought of that ; and that the prince 



^677' of Orange had only a mind to talk with him : and 
he hoped he should bring him into such measm-es as 
should produce a speedy peace. 
The prince The Campaign ended unsuccessfully to the prince : 
came into for hc sat dowu bcforc Charleroy, but was forced to 
°^ "* ■ raise the siege ". When that was over, he came to 
England, and staid some time in it, talking with 
his two uncles about a peace. But they could not 
bring him up to their terms. After a fruitless stay 
for some weeks, he intended to go back without 
proposing marriage. He had no mind to be denied : 
and he saw no hope of succeeding, unless he would 
enter more entirely into his uncle's measures. Lord 
Danby pressed his staying a few days longer, and 
that the management of that matter might be left 
to him °. So next Monday morning, after he had 
taken care, by all his creatures about the king, to 
409 put him in a very good humour, he came to the 
king, and told him he had received letters from all 
the best friends his majesty had in England, and 
shewed a bundle of them ; (in which he was pretty 
sure the king would not trouble himself to read 
them; probably they were written as he had di- 

" Which occasioned a very the intrigue, and that he was 

severe jest, when he came to the chief manager, but they 

England, from the earl of Mul- should be all disappointed, for 

grave, who, not being received the king had promised never to 

by him in the manner ex- dispose of his daughters with- 

pected, said, he supposed he out his consent : and that this 

could rise before nothing less was a match he would never 

than a town. D. give his consent to. Lord Dan- 

" The duke of Leeds (lord by immediately acquainted the 

Danby's title afterwards) told king, who said it was true he 

me, he wrote to the prince to had given his brother such a 

come over by the king's order, promise, but, "God's fish," (his 

and that as soon as he arrived, usual oath,) " he must con- 

the duke (of York) told him in " sent." D. 
great passion, he understood VI 'Jl'ddt 


rected.) They all agreed, he said, in the same ad- 1677. 
vice, that the king should make a marriage between 
the prince of Orange and the duke's daughter : for 
they all believed he came over on that account: 
and, if he went away without it, nobody would 
doubt but that he had proposed it, and had been 
denied. Upon which the parliament would cer- 
tainly make addresses to the king for it. And if 
the marriage was made upon that, the king would 
lose the grace and thanks of it : but if it was still 
denied, even after the addresses of both houses, it 
would raise jealousies that might have very ill con- 
sequences. Whereas, if the king did it of his own 
motion, he would have the honour of it : and, by so 
doing, he would bring the prince into a greater de- 
pendance on himself, and beget in the nation such a 
good opinion of him, as would lay a foundation for 
a mutual confidence. This he enforced with all the 
topics he could think on. The king said, the prince 
had not so much as proposed it : lord Danby owned 
he had spoke of it to himself; and said, that his not 
moving it to the king was only because he appre- 
hended he was not like to succeed in it. The king 
said next. My brother wiU never consent to it. 
Lord Danby answered, Perhaps not, unless the king 
took it upon him to command it : and he thought it 
was the duke's interest to have it done, even more 
than the king's : all people were now possessed of 
his being a papist, and were very apprehensive of it : 
but if they saw his daughter given to one that was 
at the head of the protestant interest, it would very 
much soften those apprehensions, when it did ap- 
pear that his religion was only a personal thing, not 
to be derived to his children after him. With all 

I 4 


1677. this the king was convinced f*. So he sent for the 

duke, lord Danby staying still with him. When 
the duke came, the king told him he had sent for 
him, to desire he would consent to a thing that he 
was sure was as much for his interest, as it was for 
his own quiet and satisfaction. The duke, without 
asking what it was, said, he would be ready always 
to comply with the king's pleasure in every thing. 
So the king left it to the lord Danby to say over all 
he had said on that head to himself. The duke 
seemed much concerned. But the king said to him. 
Brother, I desire it of you for my sake, as well as 
410 your own : and upon that the duke consented to it. 
So lord Danby sent immediately for the prince, and 
in the king's name ordered a council to be presently 
summoned. Upon the prince's coming, the king, in a 
very obliging way, said to him. Nephew, it is not 
good for man to be alone, I wiU give you a help 
meet for you : and so he told him he would bestow 
his niece on him. And the duke, with a seeming 
heartiness, gave his consent in very obliging terms : 
the king adding. Nephew, remember that love and 
war do not agree well together. In the mean while 
the news of the intended marriage went over the 
court and town. All, except the French and the 
popish party, were much pleased with it. BariQon 
was amazed. He went to the duchess of Ports- 
mouth ; and got her to send all her creatures to de- 
He mar- gipe to speak to the king: she writ him likewise 

ried the ^ ° 

duke's several billets to the same purpose. But lord Danby 
had ordered the council to be called : and he took 
care, that neither the king nor the duke should be 

P Then how was the king for bringing in popery ? S. I oJ 


spoke to, till the matter was declared in council. 1677. 
And when that was done, the king presented the ' 
prince to the young lady, as the person he designed 
should be her husband. When Barillon saw it was 
gone so far, he sent a courier to the court of France 
with the news : upon whose arrival Mountague, that 
was then our ambassador there, was sent for. When 
he came to Versailles, he saw the king the most 
moved that he had ever observed him to be. . He 
asked him, when was the marriage to be made? 
Mountague understood not what he meant. So he 
explained all to him. Mountague protested to him, 
that he knew nothing of the whole matter. That 
king said, he always beheved the journey would end 
in this : and he seemed to think that our court had 
now forsaken him. He spoke of the king's part in 
it more decently ; but expostulated severely on the 
duke's part, who had now given his daughter to the 
greatest enemy he had in the world. To all this 
Mountague had no answer to make. But next night 
he had a courier with letters from the king, the 
duke, and the prince, to the king of France. The 
prince had no mind to this piece of courtsliip : but 
his uncle obliged him to it, as a civility due to kin- 
dred and blood. The king assured the king of 
France, that he had made the match on design to 
engage the prince to be more tractable in the treaty, 
that was now going on at Nimeguen. The king of 
France received these letters civilly ; but did not 
seem much satisfied with them. Mountague was 
called over soon after this, to get new instructions. 
And lord Danby asked him how the king of France 
received the news of the marriage. He answered, 411 
As he woidd have done the loss of an army ; and that 


1677. he had spoke very hardly of the duke, for consenting 
to it, and not at least acquainting him with it. Lord 
Danby answered, he wronged him ; for he did not 
know of it an hour before it was published, and the 
king himself not above two hours. All this relation 
I had from Mountague himself *i. It was a master- 
piece indeed, and the chief thing in the earl of Dan- 
by's ministry, for which the duke never forgave 

1678. Upon the general satisfaction that this marriage 
gave the whole nation, a new session of parliament 
was called in the beginning of the year 78 : to which 
the king declared the sense he had of the dangerous 
state their neighbours were in, and that it was ne- 
cessary he should be put in a posture to bring things 
to a balance. So the house was pressed to supply 
the king in so plentiful a manner as the occasion 
did require. The court asked money, both for an 
army and a fleet. Sir William Coventry shewed 
the great inconvenience of raising a land army, the 
danger that might follow on it, the httle use could 
be made of it, and the great charge it must put the 
nation to : he was for hiring bodies from the Grerman 
princes, and for assisting the Dutch with money : 
and he moved to recall our troops from France, and 
to employ them in the Dutch service : he thought, 
that which did more properly belong to England, 
was to set out a great fleet, and to cut off the French 
trade every where ; for they were then very high in 
their manufactures and trade ; their people were in- 

^ But see sir William Tern- transaction varies in many par- 
pie's Memoirs and Letters, in ticulars from what is here said, 
which the account of all this O. : -^ - 


genious as well as industrious; they wrought hard, 1678. 
and lived low; so they sold cheaper than others 
could do ; and it was found, that we sent very near 
a million of our money in specie every year for the 
balance of our trade with them. But the king had 
promised so many commissions to men of quality in 
both houses, that this carried it for a land army. It 
was said, what hazard could there be from an army 
commanded by men of estates, as this was to be "^ ? 
A severe act passed, prohibiting all importation of 
the French manufactures or growth for three years, 
and to the next session of parliament after that. 
This was made as strict as was possible : and for a 
year after it was well looked to. But the merchants 
found ways to evade it : and the court was too much 
French, not to connive at the breach of it. In the 
preamble of this act it was set forth, that we were 
in an actual war with France. This was excepted 
to, as not true in fact. But the ministry affirmed 
we were already engaged so far with the allies, that 
it was really a war, and that our troops were al-41SI 
ready called from France. Coventry ^ in some heat 
said, the king was engaged, and he would rather be 
guilty of the murder of forty men, than to do any 
thing to retard the progress of the war. The odd- 
ness of the expression made it to be often objected 
afterwards to him. A poll bill was granted, together 
with the continuance of the additional customs, that 
were near falling off. Six hundred thousand pound supplies 

given to- 

' It is a slender security ; be trusted with the power of ^i^^*^* **** 

but it is all we have upon such an array, in mixed govern- 

occasions, when kings and mi- ments? O. 
nisters are not to be trusted : ' Mr. H. Coventry. O. 

and how few are they who may 


1678. was also given for a land army, and for a fleet. All 
the court party magnified the design of raising an 
army. They said, the employing hired troops was 
neither honourable nor safe. The Spaniards were 
willing to put Ostend and Newport in our hands : 
and we could not be answerable for these places, if 
they were not kept by our own people. 
The French At this time the kiuff of France made a step that 

take Ghent. . ^ 

struck terror mto the Dutch, and inflamed the Eng- 
lish out of measure. Louvoy till then was rather 
his father's assistant, than a minister upon his own 
foot. He at this time gained the credit with the 
king, which he maintained so long afterwards. He 
proposed to him the taking of Ghent ; and thought 
that the king's getting into such a place, so near the 
Dutch, would immediately dispose them to a peace. 
But it was not easy to bring their army so soon 
about it, without being observed : so the execution 
seemed impossible. He therefore laid such a scheme 
of marches and countermarches, as did amuse all 
mi the allies. Sometimes the design seemed to be on 
the Rhine : sometimes on Luxemburgh. And while 
their forces were sent to defend those places, where 
they apprehended the design was laid, and that none 
of the French generals themselves did apprehend 
what the true design was, aU on the sudden Ghent 
was invested : and both town and citadel were 
quickly taken. This was Louvoy's masterpiece. 
And it had the intended effect. It brought the 
Dutch to resolve on a peace. The French king 
might have taken Bruges, Ostend, and Newport. 
But he only took Ypres ; for he had no mind to pro- 
voke the English. He was sure of his point by the 


fright this put the Dutch in. We were much 1678. 
alarmed at it. And the duke of Monmouth was 
immediately sent over with some of the guards. 

But the parliament grew jealous, as they had The affaire 
great cause given them, both by what was then do- land. 
ing in Scotland, and by the management they ob- 
served at court. And now I must look northward 
to a very extraordinary scene that opened there. 
Duke Lauderdale and his duchess went to Scotland 
the former year. Her design was to marry her 
daughters into two of the great families of Scotland, 
Argile and Murray, which she did. But, things be- 413 
ing then in great disorder, by reason of the numbers 
and desperate tempers of those who were intercom- 
moned. Sharp pretended, he was in great danger of 
his life; and that the rather, because the person 
that had made the attempt on him was let Uve still. 
Upon this I must tell what had passed three years be-Mitcheir» 
fore this. Sharp had obsei-ved a man that kept shop " 
at his door, who looked very narrowly at him always 
as he passed by : and he fancied he was the man 
that had shot at him six years before. So he or- 
dered him to be taken up, and examined. It was 
found he had two pistols by him, that were deeply 
charged, which increased the suspicion. Yet the 
man denied all. But Sharp got a friend of his to go 
to him, and deal with him to make a full confession : 
and he made solemn promises that he would procure 
his pardon. His friend answered, he hoped he did 
not intend to make use of him to trepan a man to 
his ruin. Upon that, with lifted up hands. Sharp 
promised by the living Grod, that no hurt should 
come to him, if he made a full discovery'. The 
» Malice. S. 


1678. person came again to him, and said, if a promise 
was made in the king's name, the prisoner would 
teU all. So it was brought before the council. Lord 
Rothes, Halton, and Primerose were ordered to exa- 
mine him. Primerose said, it would be a strange 
force of eloquence, to persuade a man to confess, and 
be hanged. So duke Lauderdale, being the king's 
commissioner, gave them power to promise him his 
life. And as soon as these lords told him this, he 
immediately kneeled down, and confessed the fact, 
and told the whole manner of it. There was but 
one person privy to it, who was then dead. Sharp 
was troubled to see so small a discovery made : yet 
they could not draw more from him. So then it 
was considered what should be done to him. Some 
moved the cutting off his right hand. Others said, 
he might learn to practise with his left hand, and to 
take his revenge ; therefore they thought both hands 
should be cut off. Lord Rothes, who was a pleasant 
man, said. How shall he wipe his breech then ? This 
is not veiy decent to be mentioned in such a work, 
if it were not necessary " ; for when the truth of the 
promise now given was afterwards called in ques- 
tion, this jest was called to mind, and made the 
whole matter to be remembered. But Primerose 
moved, that since life was promised, which the cut- 
ting off a limb might endanger, it was better to 
keep him prisoner during life in a castle they had in 
the Bass, a rock in the mouth of the Frith: and 
thither he was sent. But it was thought necessary 
to make him repeat his confession in a court of judi- 
cature : so he was brought into the justiciary court, 

" As decent as a thousand other passages ; so he might have 
spared his apology. S. 


upon an indictment for the crime, to which it was 1678. 

expected he should plead guilty. But the judge, ^-j^^ 
who hated Sharp, as he went up to the bench, pass- 
ing by the prisoner, said to him, Confess nothing, 
unless you are sure of your limbs as well as of your 
life ". Upon this hint, he, apprehending the danger, 
refused to confess : which being reported to the 
council, an act was passed mentioning the promise 
and his confession, and adding, that since he had re- 
tracted his confession, they likewise recalled the pro- 
mise of pardon : the meaning of which was this, 
that, if any other evidence was brought against him, 
the promise should not cover him : but it stiU was 
understood, that this promise secured him from any 
ill effect by his own confession. The thing was al- 
most forgot after four years, the man being in all 
respects very inconsiderable. But now Sharp would 
have his life. So duke Lauderdale gave way to it : 
and he was brought to Edenburgh in order to his 
trial. Nisbit, who had been the king's advocate, 
and was one of the worthiest and leamedest men of 
the age, was turned out : and Mackenzie was put in 
his place, who was a man of much life and wit, but 
he was neither equal nor correct in it : he has pub- 
lished many books, some of law, but aU full of faults ; 
for he was a slight and superficial man >". Lockhart 
was assigned counsel for the prisoner. And now 
that the matter came again into people's memory, 
all were amazed at the proceeding. Primerose was I-^ 
turned out of the place of lord register, and was 
made justice general. He [was a man of most ex- 
quisite malice, and was too much pleased with the 

* A rare judge. S. y Envious and base. S. 


J 678' thoughts, that the greatest enemies he had were to 
appear before him, and to perjure themselves in his 
court : yet he] fancied orders had been given to raze 
the act that the council had made : so he turned the 
books, and he found the act still on record. He 
took a copy of it, and sent it to Mitchell's counsel : 
that was the prisoner's name. And, a day or two 
before the trial, he went to duke Lauderdale, who, 
together with Sharp, lord Rothes, and lord Halton, 
were summoned as the prisoner's witnesses. He 
told him, many thought there had been a promise of 
life given. Duke Lauderdale denied it stiffly. Prime- 
rose said, he heard there was an act of council made 
about it, and he wished that might be looked into. 
Duke Lauderdale said, he was sure it was not possi- 
ble, and he would not give himself the trouble to 
turn over the books of council. Primerose, who 
told me this, said his conscience led him to give 
duke Lauderdale this warning of the matter, but 
that he was not sorry to see him thus reject it : [and 
upon it he said within himself, " I have you now."] 
The trial was very solemn. The confession was 
brought against him, as fuU evidence : to which 
Lockhart did plead, to the admiration of all, to shew 
that no extrajudicial confession could be allowed in 
a court. The hardships of a prison, the hopes of 
life, with other practices, might draw confessions 
from men, when they were perhaps drunk, or out of 
415 their senses. He brought upon this a measure of 
learning, that amazed the audience, out of the law- 
yers of all civilized nations. And, when it was op- 
posed to this, that the council was a court of judica- 
ture, he shewed, that it was not the proper court for 
crimes of this nature, and that it had not proceeded 


in this as a court of judicature. And he brought 1678. 

out likewise a great deal of learning upon those 

heads. But this was overruled by the court, and 
the confession was found to be judicial. The next 
thing pleaded for him was, that it was drawn from 
him upon hope and promise of Ufe: and to this 
Sharp was examined. The person he had sent to 
Mitchell gave a full evidence of the promises he had 
made him: but Sharp denied them aU. He also 
denied he heard any promise of life made him by 
the council: so did the lords Lauderdale, Rothes, 
and Halton, to the astonishment of all that were 
present. Lockhart upon that produced a copy of 
the act of council, that made express mention of the i-^- 
promise given, and of his having confessed upon 
that. And the prisoner prayed that the books of 
council, which lay in a room over that in which the 
court sat, might be sent for. Lockhart pleaded, 
that since the court had judged that the council was 
a judicature, all people had a right to search into 
their registers ; and the prisoner, who was like to 
suffer by a confession made there, ought to have the 
benefit of those books. Duke Lauderdale, who was 
in the court only as a witness, and so had no right 
to speak, stood up, and said, he and those other 
noble persons were not brought thither to be accused 
of perjury; and added, that the books of council 
were the king's secrets, and that no court should 
have the perusing of them. The court was terrified 
with this, and the judges were divided in opinion. 
Primerose, and one other, was for calling for the 
books. But three were of opinion, that they were 
not to furnish the prisoner with evidence, but to 
judge of that which he brought. And here was 


1678. only a bare copy, not attested upon oath, which 
ought not to have been read. So, this defence being 
rejected, he was cast and condemned. 
And con- As soou as the court broke up, the lords went up 
stairs, and to their shame found the act recorded, 
and signed by lord Rothes, as president of the coun- 
cil. He pretended, he signed everj^ thing that the 
clerk of council put in the book without reading it. 
And it was intended to throw it on him. But he, 
to clear himself, searched among his papers, and 
found a draught of the act in Nisbit's hand. So, he 
being rich, and one they had turned out, they re- 
solved to put it upon him, and to fine him deeply. 
416 But he examined the sederunt in the book, and 
spoke to all who were there at the board, of whom 
nine happened to be in town, who were ready to de- 
pose upon oath, that when the council had ordered 
this act to be drawn, the clerk of the council desired 
the help of the king's advocate in penning it, which 
he gave him ; and his draught was approved by the 
council. And now lord Rothes's jest was remem- 
bered. Yet duke Lauderdale still stood to it, that 
the promise could only be for interceding with the 
king for his pardon, since the council had not the 
power of pardoning in them. Lord Kincardin acted 
in this the part of a Christian to an enemy. Duke 
Lauderdale had writ to him, he being then serving 
for him at court, that he referred the account of 
Mitchell's business to his brother's letters ; in which 
the matter was truly related, that upon promise of 
life he had confessed the fact ; and he concluded, de- 
siring him to ask the king, that he would be pleased 
to make good the promise. These letters I saw in 
lord Kincardin's hand. Before the trial, he sent a 


bishop to duke Lauderdale, desiring him to consider 1678. 
better of that matter, before he would upon oath 
deny it : for he was sure he had it under his and 
his brother's hand, though he could not yet fall upon 
their letters. But duke Lauderdale despised this. 
Yet, before the execution, he went to his house in 
the country, and there found the letters, and brought 
them in with him, and shewed them to that bishop. 
All this made some impression on duke Lauderdale : 
and he was willing to grant a reprieve, and to refer • ^ 
the matter to the king. So a petition was offered to 
the council : and he spoke for it. But Sharp said, 
that was upon the matter the exposing his person to 
any man that would attempt to miu'der him, since 
favour was to be shewed to such an assassin. Then 
said duke Lauderdale, in an impious jest. Let Mit- 
chell glorify God in the Grass Market, which was the 
place where he was to be hanged'. This action, 
and all concerned in it, were looked at by all people 
with horror. And it was such a complication of 
treachery, perjury, and cruelty, as the like had not 
perhaps been known. Yet duke Lauderdale had a 
chaplain, Hickes, afterwards dean of Worcester*, 
who published a false and partial relation of this 
matter, in order to the justifying of it. [He was af- 
terwards turned out for not taking the oaths to the 

* (According to Higgons, Bevill Higgons's Remarks, p. 
upon Mitchell's examination, 206. Salmon in p. 762 of his 
he being asked what induced Examination of Burnet's Hist, 
him to make so wicked an at- relates, but without mention- 
tempt upon the person of the ing his authority, that the arch- 
archbishop, replied, that he did bishop moved in council to 
it for the glory of the Lord ; have the assassin reprieved. See 
for this reason afterward, when more below, relative to this un- 
it was resolved to hang him, happy business, p. 514.) 
the duke said. Let Mitchell glo- * A learned, pious man. S. 
rHy God in the Grass Market. -^ -_,>.^. . 

K 2 


1678. late king.] Primerose not only gave me an account 
of this matter, but sent me an authentic record of 
the trial, every page signed by the clerk of the 
court ; of which I have here given an abstract. This 
I set down the more fuUy, to let my readers see to 
what a height in wickedness men may be carried, 
after they have once thrown off good principles. 
What Sharp did now to preserve himself from such 
practices, was probably that which, both in the just 
41 7 judgment of God, and the inflamed fury of wicked 
men, brought him two years after to such a dismal 
end. [Primerose did most inhumanly triumph in 
this matter, and said it was the greatest glory of his 
life, that the four greatest enemies he had should 
come and consign the damnation of their souls in 
his hands : I told him, that was an expression fitter 
for a devil than a Christian. The poor creature 
died more pitied than could have been imagined.] 

This made way to more desperate undertakings. 
Conventicles grew in the west to a very unsuffer- 
able pitch : they had generally with them a troop of 
armed and desperate men, that drew up and sent 
parties out to secure them. Duke Lauderdale upon 
this threatened he would extirpate them, and ruin 
the whole country, if a stop was not put to those 
meetings. The chief men of those parts upon that 
went into Edenburgh ; they offered to guard and as- 
sist any that should be sent to execute the laws 
against all offenders ; and offered to leave some as 
hostages, who should be bound body for body for 
their security : they confessed there were many con- 
venticles held among them in a most scandalous 
manner: but, though they met in the fields, and 
many of them were armed, yet, when their sermons 


were done, they dispersed themselves: and there 1678. 

was no violent opposition made at any time to the 
execution of the law : so, they said, there was no 
danger of the public peace of the country. Those 
conventicling people were become very giddy and 
furious : and some hot and hair-brained young 
preachers had the chief following among them, 
who infused wild principles in them, which were 
disowned by the chief men of the party. The 
truth was, the country was in a great distraction : 
and that was chiefly occasioned by the strange ad- 
ministration they were then under. Many grew The admi- 
weary of their country, and even of their lives. If u,ere k^w 
duke Lauderdale, or any of his party, brought aJ^^/jJ^gX* 
complaint against any of the other side, how false or 
frivolous soever, they were summoned upon it to 
appear before the council, as sowers of sedition, and 
as men that spread lies of the government: and 
upon the slightest pretences they were fined and im- 
prisoned. When very illegal things were to be done, 
the common method was this : a letter was drawn 
for it to be signed by the king, directing it upon 
some colour of law or ancient practice : the king 
signed whatsoever was thus sent to him : and when 
his letter was read in council, if any of the lawyers 
or others of the board offered to object to it, he was 
brow-beaten, as a man that opposed the king's ser- 
vice, and refused to obey his orders. And by these 
means things were driven to great extremities. 

Upon one of those letters, a new motion was set 
on foot, that went beyond all that had been yet made. 
All the landlords in the western counties were re- 
quired to enter into bonds for themselves, their 
wives, children, servants, tenants, and all that lived 

K 3 


1678. upon their estates, that they should not go to con- 
venticles, nor harbour any vagrant teachers, or any 
418 intercommuned persons ; and that they should live 
in all points according to law under the penalties of 
the laws. This was generally refused by them : 
they said, the law did not impose it on them : they 
could not be answerable for their servants, much less 
for their tenants : this put it in the power of every 
servant or tenant to ruin them. Upon their re- 
fusing this, duke Lauderdale writ to the king, that 
the country was in a state of rebellion, and that it 
was necessary to proceed to hostilities for reducing 
them. So by a letter, such as he sent up, the king 
left it to him and the council to take care of the 
public peace in the best way they could. 
An army of Upou this, all thc forcc the king had was sent into 
sen^to the*the wcst couutry, with some cannon, as if it had 
frefquSJter ^^^" ^^^ some dangerous expedition : and letters 
were writ to the lords in the Highlands, to send all 
the strength they could to assist the king's army. 
The marquess of Athol, to shew his greatness, sent 
2400 men. The earl of Braidalbin sent 1700. And, 
in aU, 8000 men were brought into the country, and 
let loose upon free quarter. A committee of coun- 
cil was sent to give necessary orders. Here was an 
army. But no enemy appeared. The Highlanders 
were very unruly, and stole and robbed every where. 
The gentlemen of the country were required to deli- 
ver up their arms upon oath, and to keep no horse 
above four pound price. The gentlemen looked on, 
and would do nothing. This put duke Lauderdale 
in such a phrensy, that at council table he made bare 
his arms above his elbow, and swore by Jehovah he 
would make them enter into those bonds. Duke 


Hamilton, and others, who were vexed to see such 1678. 
waste made on their estates, in ploughing time espe- 
daily, came to Edenburgh to try if it was possible to 
mollify him. But a proclamation was issued out, re- 
quiring all the inhabitants of those counties to go to 
' their houses, to be assistant to the king's host, and 
to obey such orders as should be sent them. And by 
another proclamation, all men were forbidden to go 
out of the kingdom without leave from the council, 
on pretence that their stay was necessary for the 
king's service. These things seemed done on design 
to force a rebellion ; which they thought would be 
soon quashed, and would give a good colour for 
keeping up an army. And duke Lauderdale's party 
depended so much on this, that they began to di- 
vide in their hopes the confiscated estates among "i .1 ?/ 
them : so that on Valentine's day, instead of draw- 
ing mistresses, they drew estates. And great joy 
appeared in their looks upon a false alarm that was 
brought them of an insurrection : and they were 
as much dejected, when they knew it was false. It 
was happy for the public peace, that the people were 419 
universally possessed with this opinion : for when 
they saw a rebellion was desired, they bore the pre- 
sent oppression more quietly, than perhaps they 
would have done, if it had not been for that. All 
the chief men of the country were summoned before 
the committee of council, and charged with a great 
many crimes, of which they were required to purge 
themselves by oath : otherwise they would hold them 
guilty, and proceed against them as such. It was in 
vain to pretend, that this was against all law, and 
was the practice only of the courts of inquisition. 
Yet the gentlemen, being thus forced to it, did purge 



1678. themselves by oath. And, after all the inquiries 
that were made, there did not appear one single cir- 
cumstance to prove that any rebellion was intended. 
And, when all other things failed so evidently, re- 
course was had to a writ, which a man who suspects 
another of ill designs towards him may serve him 
with ; and it was called law-boroughs, as most used 
in boroughs. This lay against a whole family : the 
master was answerable, if any one of his household 
broke it. So, by a new practice, this writ was served 
upon the whole country at the king's suit. And, 
upon serving the writ, security was to be given, 
much like the binding men to their good behaviour. 
Many were put in prison for refusing to give this 
Many of the j^^jj^g Hamilton had intimation sent him, that it 


came up to was designed to serve this on him. So he, and ten 

complain to , , , 

the king, or twelve of the nobihty, with about fifty gentlemen 
of quality, came up to complain of aU this ; which 
looked like French, or rather like Turkish, govern- 
ment. The lords of Athol and Perth, who had been 
two of the committee of council, and had now fallen 
off from duke Lauderdale, came up with them to 
give the king an account of the whole progress of 
this matter. The clamour this made was so high, that 
duke Lauderdale saw he could not stand under it. 
So the Highlanders were sent home, after they had 
wasted the country near two months. And he mag- 
nified this as an act of his compassion, that they 
were so soon dismissed. Indeed all his own party 
were against him in it. Lord Argile sent none of 
his men down with the other Highlanders. And 
lord Stairs pretended that by a fall his hand was out 
of joint : so he signed none of these wild orders. 


When the Scotish nobility came to London, the 1678. 

king would not see them, because they were come But the king 
out of the kingdom in contempt of a proclamation ; ^""them? 
though they said, that proclamation, being intended 
to hinder them from bringing their complaints to the 
king, was one of their greatest grievances. But 420 
it was answered, they ought to have asked leave : 
and, if it had been denied them, they were next to 
have asked the king's leave ; and the king insisted 
stiQ on this. Only he saw the lords of Athol and 
Perth. The madness of this proceeding made him 
conclude, that duke Lauderdale's head was turned. 
Yet he would not disown, much less punish him 
for what he had done. But he intended to put 
Scotland in another management, and to set the 
duke of Monmouth at the head of it. So he suf- 
fered him to go to the Scotish lords, and be their in- 
tercessor with him. They were all much charmed 
with the softness of his temper and behaviour. But, 
though he assured them the king would put their 
affairs in other hands, they looked on that as one of 
tlie king's artifices to get rid of them. The matter 
made great noise : and it was in the time of the ses- 
sion of parliament here. And all people said, that 
by the management in Scotland it appeared what 
was the spirit of the government ; and what would 
be done here, as soon as the designs of the court 
were brought to a greater perfection. The earl of . yj^ 

Danby, by supporting duke Lauderdale, heightened ' ' 

the prejudices that himself lay under. The duke 
did also justify his conduct ; which raised higher 
jealousies of him, as being pleased with that method 
of government. The chief of the Scotish nobility 
were heaid before the cabinet council. And the 


1678. earl of Nottingham held them chiefly to the point of 

coming out of the kingdom in the face of a proclama- 
tion. They said, such proclamations were anciently 
legal, when we had a king of our own among our- 
selves : but now it was manifestly against law, since 
it barred them from access to the king, which was a 
right that was never to be denied them. Lord Not- 
tingham objected next to them a practice of making 
the heads of the families or clans in the Highlands to 
bind for theii* whole name ; and why, by a parity of 
reason, might they not be required to bind for their 
tenants? It was answered, that anciently estates 
were let so low, that service and the following the 
landlords was instead of a rent ; and then, in the in- 
roads that were made into England, landlords were 
required to bring their tenants along with them : but 
now lands were let at rack : and so an end was put 
to that service : in the Highlands the feuds among 
the families were still so high, that every name came 
under such a dependance on the head or chief of it 
for their own security, that he was really the master 
of them aU, and so might be bound for them : but 
even this was only to restrain depredations and mur- 
ders : and it was an unheard of stretch, to oblige 
men to be bound for others in matters of religion and 
conscience, whether real or pretended. 
421 The whole matter was at that time let fall. And 
A conven- duke Laudcrdalc took advantage from theh* absence 
tales gives to desire leave from the king to summon a conven- 
jSsSsThl*'^®" of estates; from whom he might more certainly 
administra- understand the sense of the whole kingdom. And, 
what by corrupting the nobility, what by carrying 
elections, or at least disputes about them, which 
would be judged as the majority should happen to 


be at first, he hoped to carry his point. So he issued 1678. 
out the writs while they were at London, knowing 
nothing of the design. And these being returnable 
in three weeks, he laid the matter so, that before 
they could get home, all the elections were over : 
and he was master of above four parts in five of that 
assembly. So they granted an assessment for three 
years, in order to the maintaining a greater force. 
And they wrote a letter to the king, not only justify- 
ing, but highly magnifying, duke Lauderdale's go- 
vernment. This was so base and so abject a thing, 
that it brought the whole nation under great con- 

And thus I leave the affairs of Scotland, which Affairs in 

. -r-i • England. 

had a very ill influence on the mmds of the Enghsh; 
chiefly on the house of commons then sitting, who 
upon it made a new address against duke Lauder- 
dale. And that was followed by another of a higher 
strain, representing to the king the ill effects of his 
not hearkening to their address the former year with 
relation to foreign affairs ; and desiring him to 
change his ministry, and to dismiss all those that 
had advised the prorogation at that time, and his de- 
laying so long to assist the allies. This was carried 
only by a small majority of two or three. So lord The house 
Danby brought up all his creatures, the aged and in- mom'^rew 
firm not excepted: and then the majority lay the {^"j"^"^^^^ 
other way : and by short adjournments the parlia- 
ment was kept sitting till Midsummer. Once lord 
Danby, thinking he had a clear majority, got the 
king to send a message to the house, desiring an ad- 
ditional revenue of 300,000/. during life. This set 
the house all in a flame. It was said, here was no 
demand for a war, but for a revenue, wliich would 


1678. furnish the court so well, that there would be no 
more need of parliaments. The court party thought 
such a gift as this would make them useless. So 
the thing was upon one debate rejected without a 
division. Lord Danby was much censured for this 
rash attempt, which discovered the designs of the 
court too barefacedly. At the same time he ordered 
Mountague to treat with the court of France for a 
peace, in case they would engage to pay the king 
300,000/. a year for three years. So, when that 
came afterwards to be known, it was then generally 
believed, that the design was to keep up and model 
the army now raised, reckoning there would be 
I i • money enough to pay them till the nation should be 
422 brought under a mUitary government. And the 
opinion of this prevailed so, that lord Danby became 
the most hated minister that had ever been about 
the king. AU people said now, they saw the secret 
of that high favour he had been so long in, and the 
black designs that he was contriving. At this time 
expresses went very quick between England and 
France : and the state of foreign affairs varied every 
post. So that it was visible we were in a secret ne- 
gotiation : of which Temple has given so particular 
an account, that I refer my reader wholly to him. 
But I shall add one particular, that he has not men- 
tioned : Mountague, who was a man of pleasure \ 
was in an intrigue with the duchess of Cleveland, 
who was quite cast off by the king, and was then 


^ His brother, Edward Mon- meant by squeezing one by the 

tague, had been chamberlain to hand ; the king told her, love ; 

the queen, who asked the king, then said she, Mr. Montague 

(having never had an admirer loves me mightily. Upon which 

before nor after,) what people he was turned out. D. im\}h 


at Paris. The king had ordered him to find out an 1678, 
astrologer, of whom it was no wonder he had a good 
opinion; for he had, long before his restoration, 
foretold he should enter London on the 29th of 
May, 60. He was yet alive, and Mountague found 
him ; and saw he was capable of being cornjpted. 
So he resolved to prompt him, to send the king such 
hints as should serve his own ends. And he was so 
bewitched with the duchess of Cleveland, that he 
trusted lier with this secret. But she, growing jea- 
lous of a new amour, took all the ways sh^ could 
think on to ruin him, reserving this of the astrologer 
for her last shift '^. And by it she compassed her I- 
ends : for Mountague was entirely lost upon it with 
the king, and came over without being recalled. 
The carl of Sunderland was sent ambassador in his 

-fiThe treaty went on at Nimeguen, where Temple Affmrs a- 
and Jenkins were our plenipotentiaries. The States 
were resolved to have a peace. The prince of Orange 
did all he could to hinder it. But De Wit's party 
began to gather strength again. And they infused 
a jealousy in all people, that the prince intended to 
keep up the war for his own ends. A peace might 
be now had by restoring all that belonged to the 
States, and by a tolerable baiTier in Flanders. It is 
true, the great difficulty was concerning their allies, 
the king of Denmark, and the elector of Branden- 
burgh; who had fallen on the Swede, upon the 
king's declaring for France, and had beat him out 

■^ (The letter from the duchess disgraceful to all the parties 

of Cleveland to the king, con- concerned, has been published 

taining her charge against M on- by Harris, at the end of his life 

tague, and which is shockingly of Charles II.) 


1678. of Germany. No peace could be had, unless the 
Swede was restored. Those princes who had been 
quite exhausted by that war, would not consent to 
this. So they, who had adhered so faithfully to the 
States in their extremity, pressed them to stick by 
them. And this was the prince of Orange's constant 
topic : how could they expect any of their allies 
should stick to them, if they now forsook such faith- 
ful friends ? But nothing could prevail. It was given 
out in Holland, that they could not depend on Eng- 
land, that court being so entirely in a French in- 
terest, that they suspected they would, as they had 
423 once done, sell them again to the French. And 
this was believed to be let out by the French minis- 
ters themselves, who, to come at their ends, were 
apt enough to give up even those who sacrificed 
every thing to them. It was said, the court of 
France would consider both Denmark and Branden- 
burgh, and repay the charge of the war against Swe- 
den. This, it w^as said, was to force those princes 
into a dependance on France, who would not con- 
tinue those pajnnents so much for past as for future 
services. In the mean while the French had blocked 
up Mons. So the prince of Orange went to force 
them from their posts. Luxemburgh commanded 
there, and seemed to be in full hope of a peace, when 
the prince came and attacked him. And, notwith- 
standing the advantage of his situation, it appeared 
how much the Dutch army was now superior to the 
French, for they beat them out of several posts. The 
prince had no order to stop. He indeed knew that 
the peace was upon the matter concluded. But no 
intimation was yet made to him. So it was lawful 
for him to take all advantages. And he was not 


apprehensive of a new embroilment, but rather 1678. 
wished it. The French treasure was so exhausted, 
and their king was so weary of the war, that no no- 
tice was taken of the business of Mons. The treaty 
at Nimeguen was finished, and ratified'^. Yet new 
difficulties arose, upon the French king's refusing to 
evacuate the places that were to be restored till the 
Swede was restored to all his dominions. Upon this 
the English struck in again : and the king talked so 
high, as if he would engage anew in the war. But 
the French prevented that, and did evacuate the 
places. And then they got Denmark and Branden- 
burgh into their dependance, under the pretence of 
repaying the charge of the war. But it was more 
truly, the engaging them into the interests of France 
by great pensions. So a general peace quickly fol- 
lowed. And there was no more occasion for our 
troops beyond sea. The French were so appre- 
hensive of them, that Rouvigny, now earl of Gal- 
way, was sent over to negotiate matters. That 
which France insisted most on, was the disbanding 
the army. And the force of money was so strong, 
that he had orders to offer six millions of their mo- 
ney, in case the army should be disbanded in August. 
Rouvigny had such an ill opinion of the designs of 
our court, if the army was kept up, that he insisted 
on fixing the day for disbanding it ; at which the 
duke was very uneasy. And matters were so ma- 
naged, that the army was not disbanded by the day 

'' (In a MS. of lord Shafts- " enemies more effectually by 

bury's, he says, " That England " that peace, than she could 

" got neither honour nor pro- " have done by her armies in 

" fit by the peace of Nimeguen ; " war.") 
" and that France broke all her 


1678. prefixed for it. So the king of France saved his 
money. And for this piece of good management 
Rouvigny was much commended. The troops were 
brought into England, and kept up, under the pre- 
tence that there was not money to pay them off. So 
all people looked on the next session as very critical. 
424 The party against the court gave aU for lost. They 
beUeved the lord Danby, who had so often brought 
his party to be very near the majority, would now 
lay matters so weU as to be sure to cany the session. 
And many did so despair of being able to balance 
his numbers, that they resolved to come up no more, 
and reckoned that aU opposition would be fruitless, 
and serve only to expose themselves to the fury of the 
court. But of a sudden an unlooked for accident 
changed all their measures, and put the kingdom 
into so great a fermentation, that it weU deserves to 
be opened very particularly. I am so weU instructed 
in all the steps of it, that I am more capable to give 
a full account of it than any man I know. And I 
will do it so impartially, that no party shall have 
cause to censure me for concealing or altering the 
truth in any one instance. It is the history of that 
called the popish plot. 
The popish Three days before Michaelmas Dr. Tonge came to 
^ ° ' me. I had known him at Sir Robert Murray's. He 
was a gardener and a chymist, and was full of pro- 
jects and notions. He. had got some credit in Crom- 
well's time: and that kept him poor. He was a 
very mean divine, and seemed credulous and simple. 
But I had always looked on him as a sincere man. 
At this time he told me of strange designs against 
the king's person ; and that Coniers, a Benedictine, 
had provided himself of a poniard, with which he 


undertook to kill him. I was amazed at all this; 1678. 

and did not know whether he was crazed, or had 
come to me on design to involve me in a concealing 
of treason. So I went to Dr. Lloyd, and sent him 
to the secretary's office with an account of that dis- 
course of Tonge's, since I would not be guilty of 
misprision of treason. He found at the office, that 
Tonge was making discoveries there ; of which they 
made no other account, but that he intended to get 
himself to be made a dean. I told this next morn- 
ing to Littleton and Powel. And they looked on it 
as a design of lord Danby's, to be laid before the 
next session, thereby to dispose them to keep up a 
greater force, since the papists were plotting against 
the king's life : this would put an end to all jealou- - 
sies of the king, now the papists were conspiring 
against his life. But lord Hallifax, when I told him of 
it, had another apprehension of it. He said, consider- 
ing the suspicions all people had of the duke's reli- 
gion, he believed every discovery of that sort would 
raise a flame, which the court would not be able to 

The day after that, Titus Gates was brought be- o«tes's ch«- 
fore the council. He was the son of an anabaptist 
teacher, who afterwards conformed, and got into or- 
ders, and took a benefice, as this his son did. He 
was proud and ill natured, haughty, but ignorant. 
He [conversed much with Socinians, and he] had 
been complained of for some very indecent expres- 
sions concerning the mysteries of the Christian reli- 425 
gion. He was once presented for perjury. But he 
got to be a chaplain in one of the king's ships, from 
which he was dismissed upon complaint of some un- 



1678. natural practices, not to be named ^ He got a qua- 
lification from the duke of Norfolk as one of his 
chaplains : and there he fell into much discourse 
with the priests that were about that family. He 
seemed inclined to be instructed in the popish reli- 
gion. One Hutchinson, a Jesuit, had that work put 
on him. He was a weak and light-headed man, 
and afterwards came over to the church of England. 
Hutchinson was a curate about the city near a year, 
and came oft to me, and preached once for me. He 
seemed to be a sincere, devout man, who did not at 
all love the order, for he found they were a deceitful 
and meddling sort of people. They never trusted 
him with any secrets, but employed him whoUy in 
making converts. He went afterwards back to that 
church. So aU this was thought a juggle only to 
cast an odium upon Oates. He told me, that Oates 
and they were always in iU terms. They did not 
allow Oates above ninepence a day, of which he 
complained much. And Hutchinson relieved him 
often. They wished they could be well rid of him ; 
and sent him beyond sea, being in very ill terms 
with him. This made Hutchinson conclude, that 
they had not at that time trusted Oates with their 
secrets. Oates was kept for some time at St. Omer's ; 
and from thence sent through France into Spain ; 
and was now returned into England. He had been 
long acquainted with Tonge ; and made his first dis-- 
covery to him. And he, by the means of one Kirby, 
a chymist, that was sometimes in the king's labora- 
tory, signified the thing to the king. So Tonge had 

^ Only sodomy. S.- " ' . 


an audience; and told the king a long thread of i676. 

many passages, all tending to the taking away his 
life; which the king, as he afterwards told me, 
knew not what to make of: yet among so many 
particulars he did not know but there might be 
some truth. So he sent him to lord Danby, who in- 
tended to make some use of it, but could not give 
much credit to it, and handled the matter too re- 
missly : for, if at first the thing had been traced 
quick, either the truth or the imposture of the whole 
affair might have been made appear. The king or- 
dered lord Danby to say nothing of it to the duke. 
In the mean while some letters of an odd strain, re- 
lating to plots and discoveries, were sent by the 
post to Windsor, directed to Beddingfield, the duke's 
confessor; who, when he had read them, carried 
them to the duke, and protested he did not know 
what they meant, nor from whom they came. The 
duke carried them to the king. And he fancied 
they were writ either by Tonge or Oates, and sent 
on design to have them intercepted, to give the 
more credit to the discovery. The duke's enemies 
on the other hand gave out, that he had got some 
hints of the discovery, and brought these as a blind 426 
to impose on the king. The matter lay in a secret 
and remiss management for six weeks. 

At last, on Michaelmas eve, Oates was brought His disco- 
before the council; and entertained them with a 
long relation of many discourses he had heard among 
the Jesuits, of their design to kill the king. He 
named persons, places, and times, almost without 
number. He said, many Jesuits had disguised them- 
selves, and were gone to Scotland, and held field 
conventicles, on design to distract the government 

L 2 


1678. there. He said, he was sent first to St. Omer's, 
thence to Paris, and from thence to Spain, to ne- 
gociate this design ; and that upon his return, when 
he brought many letters and directions from beyond 
sea, there was a great meeting of the Jesuits held in 
London, in April last, in different rooms in a tavern 
near St. Clement's ; and that he was employed to 
convey the resolutions of those in one room to those 
in another, and so to hand them round. The issue 
of the consultation was, that they came to a resolu- 
tion to kiU the king by shooting, stabbing, or poison- 
ing him ; that several attempts were made, all which 
failed in the execution, as shall be told when the 
trials are related. While he was going on, waiting 
for some certain evidence to accompany his disco- 
very, he perceived they were jealous of him : and so 
he durst not trust himself among them any more. 
In all this there was not a word of Coniers, of whom 
Tonge had spoke to me. So that was dropt. This 
was the substance of what Oates told the first day. 
Many Jesuits were upon this seized on that night, 
and the next day. And their papers were sealed up 
next day. He accused Coleman of a strict corre- 
spondence with P. de la Chaise; (whose name he 
had not right, for he called him Father Le Shee :) 
and he said in general, that Coleman was acquainted 
with aU. their designs. 
Coleman Colcmau had a whole day free to make his escape, 
papers if he thought he was in any danger. And he had 
conveyed all his papers out of the way : only he for- 
got a drawer under the table, in which the papers 
relating to 74, 75, and a part of 76 were left. And 
from these I drew the negociations that I have for- 
merly mentioned as directed by him. If he had ei- 


ther left all his papers, or withdrawn all, it had 1678. 
been happy for his party. Nothing had appeared, if 
all his papers had been put out of the way. But, if 
all had been left, it might have been concluded, that 
the whole secret lay in them. But he left enough 
to give great jealousy. And, no more appearing, all 
was believed that the witnesses had deposed. Cole- 
man went out of the way for a day, hearing that 
there was a warrant out against him. But he deli- 
vered himself the next day to the secretary of state. 
When Oates and he were confronted. Gates did not 
know him at first : but he named him, when he 
heard him speak. Yet he only charged him upon 427 
hearsay. So he was put in a messenger's hands. 
Oates named Wakeman, the queen's physician ; but 
did not know him at all. And being asked if he 
knew any thing against him, he answered he did 
not; adding, God forbid he should say any thing 
more than he knew, he would not do that for aU the 
world. Nor did he name Langhorn, the famous 
lawyer, that indeed managed all their concerns. 
The king found him out in one thing. He said, 
when he was in Spain, he was carried to Don John, 
who promised great assistance in the execution of 
their designs. The king, who knew Don John well, 
asked him what sort of a man he was : he answered, 
he was a tall lean man : now Don John was a little 
fat man. At first he seemed to design to recom- 
mend himself to the duke and the ministers : for he 
said, he heard the Jesuits oft say, that the duke was 
not sure enough to them : and they were in doubt, 
whether he would approve of their killing the king : 
but they were resolved, if they found him stifi" in 
that matter, to despatch him likewise. He said, 

L 3 


1678. they had oft made use of his name, and counter- 
feited his hand and seal, without his knowledge. 
He said, the Jesuits cherished the faction in Scot- 
land against duke Lauderdale ; and intended to 
murder the duke of Ormond, as a great enemy to 
all their designs. And he affirmed he had seen 
many letters, in which these things were mentioned, 
and had heard them oft spoke of. He gave a long 
account of the burning of London, at which they in- 
tended to have killed the king : but they relented, 
when they saw him so active in quenching the fire, 
which, as he said, they had kindled. 
Coleman's The wholc towu was aU over inflamed with this 

letters t • t n 

confirm it. discovcry. It cousistcd of so many particulars, that 
it was thought to be above invention. But when 
Coleman's letters came to be read and examined, it 
got a great confirmation ; since by these it appeared, 
that so many years before they thought the design 
for the converting the nation, and rooting out the 
pestilent heresy that had reigned so long in these 
northern kingdoms, was very near its being exe- 
cuted : mention was oft made of the duke's great 
zeal for it : and many indecent reflections were 
made on the king, for his inconstancy, and his dis- 
position to be brought to any thing for money : they 
depended on the French king's assistance : and 
therefore were earnest in their endeavours to bring 
about a general peace, as that which must finish 
their design. 

On the second day after this discovery, the king 
went to Newmarket. This was censured, as a very 
indecent levity in him, to go and see horse races, 
when all people were so much possessed with this 
extraordinary discovery, to which Coleman's lettei*s 


had gained an universal credit. While the king 1678. 
was gone, Tonge desired to speak with me. So I 
went to him to Whitehall, where both he and Oates428 
were lodged under a guard. I found him so lifted 
up, that he seemed to have lost the little sense he 
had. Oates came in ; 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 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' mo- 
rals 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 any thing he either said 
or swore after that. 

A few days after this, a very extraordinary thing Godfrey u 
happened, that contributed more than any other 
thing to the establishing the belief of all this evi- 
dence. Sir Edmondbury Godfrey was an eminent 
justice of peace, that lived near Whitehall. He had 
the courage to stay in London, and keep things in 
order during the plague; which gained him much 
reputation, and upon which he was knighted. He 
was esteemed the best justice of peace in England ; 
and kept the quarter where he lived in very good 
order. He was then entering upon a great design 

L 4 


1676. of taking up all beggars, and putting them to work. 
He was thought vain, and apt to take too much 
upon him. But there are so few men of a public 
spirit, that small faults, though they lessen them, 
yet ought to be gently censured. I knew him well, 
and never had reason to think him faulty that way. 
He was a zealous protestant, and loved the church 
of England ; but had kind thoughts of the noncon- 
formists, and was not forward to execute the laws 
against them. And he, to avoid being put on doing 
that, was not apt to search for priests or mass- 
houses. So that few men of his zeal Hved in better 
terms with the papists than he did. Gates went to 
him the day before he appeared at the council board; 
and made oath of the narrative he intended to 
make, which he afterwards published. This seemed 
to be done in distrust of the privy council, as if they 
might stifle his evidence ; which to prevent he put 
it in safe hands. Upon that Godfrey was chid for 
his presuming to meddle in so tender a matter. 
And it was generally believed, that Coleman and he 
were long in a private conversation, between the 
time of his (Coleman's) being put in the messenger's 
hands, and his being made a close prisoner : which 
was done as soon as report was made to the council 
429 of the contents of his letters. It is certain, Godfrey 
grew apprehensive and reserved : for meeting me in 
the street, after some discourse of the present state 
of affairs, he said, he believed he himself should be 
knocked on the head. Yet he took no care of him- 
self, and went about according to his own maxim, 
still without a servant : for he used to say, that the 
servants in London were corrupted by the idleness 
^and ill company they fell into, while they attended 


on their masters. On the day fortnight from that 1678. 
in which Oates had made his discovery, being Satur- 
day, he went abroad in the morning, and was seen 
about one o'clock near St. Clement's church ; but 
was never seen any more. He was a punctual man 
to good hours : so his servants were amazed when 
he did not come home. Yet, he having an ancient 
mother that lived at Hammersmith, they fancied, he 
had heard she was dying, and so was gone to see 
her. Next morning they sent thither, but heard no 
news of him. So his two brothers, who lived in the 
city, were sent to. They were not acquainted with 
his affairs : so they did not know whether he might 
not have stepped aside for debt ; since at that time 
all people were calling in their money, which broke 
a great many. But, no creditors coming about the 
house, they on Tuesday published his being thus 
lost. The council sat upon it, and were going to 
order a search of all the houses about the town *, but 
were diverted from it, by many stories that were 
brought them by the duke of Norfolk. Sometimes _. 
it was said, he was indecently married : and the 
scene was often shifted of the places where it was 
said he was. The duke of Norfolk's officiousness in 
this matter, and the last place he was seen at, being 
near Arundel house, brought him under great suspi- 
cion *. On Thursday, one came into a bookseller's 
shop after dinner, and said he was found thrust 

f (North in his Examen of tary concealment ;) and that 

tlie Complete Historj* of Eng- the duke narrowly escaped be- 

land, p. 202, informs us, that ing put in the plot, which it 

the duke of Norfolk went with was said he owed to the cir- 

great joy to tell the news at cumstance of Oates having 

Whitehall of Godfrey's being been once his chaplain.) 
found, (in his supposed volun< ', 


1678. through with a sword. That was presently brought 
as news to me: but the reporter of it was not 
His body known. That night late his body was found in a 
was ouD . ^^^jj^ about a mile out of the town, near St. Pan- 
eras church. His sword was thrust through him. 
But no blood was on his clothes, or about him. His 
shoes were clean. His money was in his pocket. 
But nothing was about his neck. And a mark was 
all round it, an inch broad, which shewed he was 
strangled. His breast was likewise all over marked 
with bruises : and his neck was broken. All this I 
saw ; for Dr. Lloyd and I went to view his body. 
There were many drops of white wax-lights on his 
breeches, which he never used himself And since 
only persons of quality, or priests, use those Ughts, 
this made all people conclude in whose hands he 
must have been. And it was visible he was first 
strangled, and then carried to that place, where his 
sword was run through his dead body. For a while 
it was given out, that he was a hypochondriacal man, 
430 and had killed himself. Of this the king was pos- 
sessed, till Dr. Lloyd went and told him what he 
had seen. The body lay two days exposed, many 
going to see it, who went away much moved with 
the sight. And indeed men's spuits were so sharp- 
ened upon it, that we all looked on it as a very 
great happiness, that the people did not vent their 
fury upon the papists about the town. 
Gates made The scssiou of parliament was to be opened with- 

s new dis- 
covery, in three days : and it may be easily imagined in 

what a temper they met. The court party were 

out of countenance. So the country party were 

masters this session. All Oates's evidence was now 

so well believed, that it was not safe for any man to 


seem to doubt of any part of it. He thought he '678. 
had the nation in his hands, and was swelled up to 
a high pitch of vanity and insolence. And now he 
made a new edition of his discovery at the bar of 
the house of commons. He said, the pope had de- 
clared that England was his kingdom, and that he 
had sent over commissions to several persons : and 
had by these made lord Arundel of Wardour, chan- 
cellor ; lord Powis, treasurer ; sir William Godolphin, 
then in Spain, privy seal; Coleman, secretaiy of 
state; Bellasis, general; Petre, lieutenant general; 
Ratcliffe, major general ; Stafford, paymaster gene- 
ral ; and Langhom, advocate general ; besides many 
other commissions for subaltern officers. These, he 
said, he saw in Langhom's chamber; and that he 
had delivered out many of them himself, and saw 
many more delivered by others. And he now swore, 
upon his own knowledge, that both Coleman and 
Wakeman were in the plot; that Coleman had 
given eighty guineas to four ruffians, that went to 
Windsor last summer, to stab the king ; that Wake- 
man had undertaken to poison him, for which 
10,000/. was offered him, but that he got the price 
raised to 15,000/. He excused his not knowing 
them, when confronted with them ; and said, that 
he was then so spent by a long examination, and by 
not sleeping for two nights, that he was not then 
master of himself; though it seemed very strange, 
that he should then have forgot that which he made 
now the main part of his evidence, and should have 
then objected only reports upon hearsay, when he 
had such matter against them, as he now said, upon 
his own knowledge. And it seemed not very con- 
gruous, that those who went to stab the king had 


1678. but twenty guineas apiece, when Wakeman was to 

have 15,000/. for a safer way of killing him. Many 

other things in the discovery made it seem ill di- 
gested, and not credible. Bellasis was almost per- 
petually ill of the gout. Petre was a weak man, 
and had never any military command. Ratcliffe 
was a man that lived in great state in the north, 
and had not stirred from home all the last summer. 
Oates also swore, he delivered a commission to be a 
colonel, in May last, to Howard, the earl of Carlisle's 
431 brother, that had married the duchess of Richmond. 
But a friend of mine told me, he was all that month 
at Bath, lodged in the same house with, Howard, 
with whom he was every day engaged at play. He 
was then miserably ill of the gout, of which he died 
soon after. Oates did also charge general Lambert, 
as one engaged in the design, who was to have a 
great post, when set at liberty. But he had been 
kept in prison ever since the restoration ; and by 
that time had lost his memory and sense. But it 
was thought strange, that since Oates had so often 
said, what I once heard him say, that he had gone 
in among them on design to betray them, that he 
had not kept any one of all these commissions to be 
real proof in support of his evidence. He had also 
said to the king, that whereas others ventured their 
lives to serve him, he had ventured his soul to serve 
him : and yet he did suffer the four ruffians to go to 
Windsor to kill him, without giving him any notice 
of his danger. These were characters strong enough 
to give suspicion, if Coleman's letters and Godfrey's 
murder had nof" seemed such authentic confirma- 
tions, as left no room to doubt of any thing. TiUot- 
son indeed told me, that Langhorn's wife, who was 


still as zealous a protestant as he was a papist, came 1678. 
oft to him, and gave him notice of every thing she 
could discover among them ; though she continued 
a faithful and dutiful wife to the last minute of her 
husband's life. Upon the first breaking out of the 
plot, before Oates had spoke a word of commissions, 
or had accused Langhom, she engaged her son into 
some discourse upon those matters, who was a hot, 
indiscreet papist. He said, their designs were so 
well laid, it was impossible they could miscarry : 
and that his father would be one of the greatest 
men of England; for he had seen a commission 
from the pope, constituting him advocate general. 
This he told me in StiUingfleet's hearing. 

The earl of Shaftsbury had got out of the tower 
in the former session, upon his submission, to which 
it was not easy to bring him. But when he saw an 
army raised, he had no mind to lie longer in prison. 
The matter bore a long debate, the motion he had 
made in the king's bench being urged much against 
him. But a submission always takes off a con- 
tempt. So he got out. And now the duke of Buck- 
ingham and he, with the lords Essex and Hallifax, 
were the governing men among the lords. Many 
hard things were said against the duke. Yet when 
they tried to carry an address to be made to the 
king to send him away from court, the majority was 
against them. 

While things were thus in a ferment at London, Bediow's 


Bedlow delivered himself to the magistrates of Bris- 
tol, pretending he knew the secret of Godfrey's mur- 
der. So he was sent up to London. The king told 
me, that when the secretary examined him in his 432 
presence, at his first coming he said he knew no- 


1678. tiling of the plot ; but that he had heard that 40,000 
men were to come over from Spain, who were to 
meet as pilgrims at St. Jago's, and were to be shipped 
for England : but he knew nothing of any fleet that 
was to bring them over. So this was looked on as 
very extravagant. But he said, he had seen God- 
frey's body at Somerset house ; and that he was of- 
fered 4000/. by a servant of the lord BeUasis, to as- 
sist in carrying it away : but upon that he had gone 
out of town to Bristol, where he was so pursued 
with horror, that it forced him to discover it. Bed- 
low had led a very vicious life. He had gone by 
many false names, by which he had cheated many 
persons. He had gone over many parts of France 
and Spain, as a man of quality. And he had made 
a shift to live on his wits, or rather by his cheats. 
So a tenderness of conscience did not seem to be 
that to which he was much subject. But the very 
next day after this, when he was brought to the bar 
of the house of lords, he made a fuU discovery of his 
knowledge of the plot, and of the lords in the tower : 
for all those against whom Oates had informed were 
now prisoners. The king was upon this convinced, 
that some had been with Bedlow after he had been 
before him, who had instructed him in this narra- 
tion, of which he had said the night before that he 
knew nothing : and yet he not only confirmed the 
main parts of Oates's discoveries, but added a great 
deal to them. And he now pretended, that his ram- 
bling over so many places of Europe was all in order 
to the carrying on this design ; that he was trusted 
with the secret, and had opened many of the letters 
which he was employed to carry. 

Here were now two witnesses to prove the plot. 


as far as swearing could prove it. And among the i67S. 

papers of the Jesuits, that were seized on when they other 
were clapt up, two letters were found, that seemed [^at seemed 

to confirm all. One from Rome mentioned the!?*^PP*"* 

the disco- 
sending over the patents ; of which it was said in ^'^t- 

the letter, that they guessed the contents, though 
their patrons there carried their matters so secretly, 
that nothing was known, but as they thought fit. 
The Jesuits, when examined upon this, said, these 
were only patents with relation to the offices in 
their order. Another letter was writ to a Jesuit in 
the country, citing him to come to London by the 
24th of April ; which was the day in which Oates 
swore they held their consult, and that fifty of them 
had signed the resolution of killing the king, which 
was to be executed by Grove and Pickering. In 
the end of that letter it was added, I need not en- 
join secrecy, for the nature of the thing requires it. 
When the Jesuit was examined to this, he said, it 
was a summons for a meeting according to the rule 
of their order : and they being to meet during the 433 
sitting of the parliament, that was the particular 
reason for enjoining secrecy. Yet, while men's 
minds were strongly possessed, these answers did 
not satisfy, but were thought only shifts. 

At this time Carstairs, of whose behaviour in carstaire's 
Scotland mention has been made, not having met '"^**^*'"** 
with those rewards that he expected, came up to 
London, to accuse duke Lauderdale, as designing to 
keep up the opposition that was made to the laws in 
Scotland, even at the time that he seemed to prose- 
cute conventicles with the greatest fury ; because he 
liad often drawn the chief of their teachers into such 
snares, that upon the advertisements that he gave 

1678. they might have been taken, but that duke Lauder- 

dale had neglected it: so he saw he had a mind 
that conventicles should go on, at the same time 
that he was putting the country in such a flame to 
punish them. This he undertook to prove, by those 
witnesses of whom on other occasions he had made 
use. He also confessed the false date of that war- 
rant upon which Baillie had been censured. He 
put all this in writing, and gave it to the marquess 
of Athol ; and pressed him to carry him to duke 
Hamilton and the earl of Kincardin, that he might 
beg their pardon, and be assured of their favour. I 
was against the making use of so vile a man, and 
would have nothing to do with him. He made ap- 
plication to lord Cavendish, and to some of the 
house of commons, to whom I gave such a character 
of him, that they would see him no more. 
Steiey's While he was thus looking about where he could 

find a lucky piece of villainy, he happened to go 
into an eating-house in Covent Garden, that was 
over against the shop of one Staley, the popish 
banker, who had been in great credit, but was then 
under some diflSculties ; for all his creditors came to 
call for their money. Staley happening to be in the 
next room to Carstairs, Carstairs pretended he heard 
«'ci him say in French, that the king was a rogue, and 
persecuted the people of God ; and that he himself 
would stab him, if nobody else would. The words 
were writ down, which he resolved to swear against 
him. So next morning he and [another who had 
been with him in the eating-house s] went to him, 
and told him what they would swear against him, 

s In the printed copy was substituted, one of his witnesses. 


and asked a sum of money of him. He was in 1678. 

much anxiety, and saw great danger on both hands. 
Yet he chose rather to leave himself to their malice, 
than be preyed on by them. So he was seized on : 
and they swore the words against him : and he was 
appointed to be tried within five days ^. When I 
heard who the witnesses were, I thought I was 
bound to do what I could to stop it. So I sent both 
to the lord chancellor and to the attorney general, 
to let them know what profligate wretches these 
witnesses were. Jones, the attorney general, took 
it iU of me, that I should disparage the king's evi-434 
dence. The thing grew public, and raised great 
clamour against me. It was said, I was taking this 
method to get into favour at court. I had likewise 
observed to several persons of weight, how many in- 
credible things there were in the evidence that was 
given : I wished they would make use of the heat 
the nation was in to secure us effectually from po- 
pery : we saw certain evidence to carry us so far, as 
to graft that upon it : but I wished they would not 
run too hastily to the taking men's lives upon such 
testimonies. Lord HoUis had more temper than I 
expected from a man of his heat. Lord Halifax 
was of the same mind. But the earl of Shaftsbury 
could not bear the discourse. He said, we must 
support the evidence ; and that all those who under- 
mined the credit of the witnesses were to be looked 
on as public enemies. And so inconstant a thing is 
popularity, that I was most bitterly railed at by 
those who seemed formerly to put some confidence 
in me. It went so far, that I was advised not to 

^ See the trial in the second and also Echard's account of it, 
volume of State Trials, page 133. in his History, page 953. O. 



1678. stir abroad for fear of public affronts. But these 
things did not daunt me. Staley was brought to 
his trial, which did not hold long. The witnesses 
gave a full evidence against him : and he had no- 
thing to offer to take away their credit. He only 
shewed how improbable it was, that in a public 
house he should talk such things with so loud a 
voice as to be heard in the next room, in a quarter 
of the town where almost every body understood 
French. He was cast ' : and he prepared himself 
very seriously for death. Dr. Lloyd went to see 
.■ him in prison. He was offered his hfe, if he would 
discover their plots. He protested he knew of none ; 
and that he had not said the words sworn against 
him, nor any thing to that purpose. And he died 
the first of those who suffered on the account of the 
plot. Duke Lauderdale, having heard how I had 
moved in this matter, railed at me with open mouth. 
He said, I had studied to save Staley, for the liking 
I had to any one that would murder the king. And 
he infused this into the king, so that he repeated it 
in the house of lords to a company that were stand- 
ing about him. - hnrf * >i 
Yet so soon could the kilig turn to make use of a 
man whom he had censured so unmercifully, that 
two days after this he sent the earl of Dunbarton, 
that was a papist, and had been bred in France, and 
was duke Hamilton's brother, to me, to desire me to 
come to him secretly, for he had a mind to talk 
with me. He said, he beUeved I could do him ser- 
vice, if I had a mind to it. And the see of Chiches- 
ter being then void, he said he would not dispose of 

* Anglice, was found guilty. $. 

.11 .lOV 

ed as in the 


it, till he saw whether I would deserve it or not. I 16/8. 
asked, if he fancied I would be a spy, or betray any " 

body to him. But he undertook to me, that the 
king should ask me no question, but should in all 
points leave me to my liberty. 

An accident fell in, before I went to him, which 435 
took oflf much from Oates's credit. When he was ^^ Eg" 
examined by the house of lords, and had made the ^^^^ 
same narrative to them that he had offered to the 
commons, they asked him, if he had now named all 
the persons whom he knew to be involved in the 
plot? He said, there might be some inferior per- 
sons whom he had perhaps forgot, but he had named 
all the persons of note. Yet, it seems, afterwards 
be bethought himself: and Mrs. Elliot, wife to Elliot 
of the bedchamber, came to the king, and told him, 
Oates had somewhat to swear against the queen, if 
he would give way to it. The king was willing to 
give Oates line enough, as he expressed it to me, 
and seemed to give way to it. So he came out with 
a new story, that the queen had sent for some Je- 
suits to Somerset house: and that he went along 
with them, but stayed at the door, when they went 
in ; where he heard one, in a woman's voice, ex- 
pressing her resentments of the usage she had met 
with, and assuring them she would assist them in 
taking off the king : upon that he was brought in, 
and presented to her : and there was then no other 
woman in the room but she. When he was bid 
describe the room, it proved to be one of the public 
rooms of that court, which are so great, that the 
queen, who was a woman of a low voice, could not 
be heard over it, unless she had strained for it. 
Oates, to excuse his saying that he could not lay 

M 2 


1678. any thing to the charge of any besides those he had 
ab'eady named, pretended, that he thought then it 
was not lawful to accuse the queen. But this did 
not satisfy people. Bedlow, to support this, swore, 
that being once at chapel at Somerset house, he saw 
the queen, the duke, and some others, very earnest 
in discourse m the closet above ; and that one came 
down with much joy, and said, the queen had 
yielded at last ; and that one explained this to him 
beyond sea, and said, it was to kiU the king. And, 
besides Bedlow's oath that he saw Godfrey's body in 
Somerset house, it was remembered, that at that 
time the queen was for some days in so close a re- 
tirement, that no person was admitted. Prince 
Rupert came then to wait on her, but was denied 
access. This raised a strange suspicion of her. 
But the king would not suffer that matter to go 
any farther. 
A law pass- While examinations were going on, and prepara- 
test to be tiou was making for the trial of the prisoners, a biU 
bothhouses. was brought into the house of commons, requiring 
all members of either house, and all such as might 
come into the king's court or presence, to take a 
test against popery ; in which, not only transubstan- 
tiation was renounced, but the worship of the Virgin 
Mary and the saints, as it was practised in the 
church of Rome, was declared to be idolatrous. 
This passed in the house of commons without any 
difficulty. But in the house of lords, Gunning, bi- 
■ shop of Ely, maintained, that the church of Rome 
was not idolatrous. He was answered by Barlow, 
bishop of Lincoln. The lords did not much mind 
Gunning's arguments, but passed the bill. And 
though Gunning had said, that he could not take 


that test with a good conscience, yet, as soon as the 1678. 
bill was passed, he took it in the crowd with the 
rest. The duke got a proviso to be put in it for ex- with a pro- 
cepting himself. He spoke upon that occasion with duke. 
great earnestness, and with tears in his eyes. He 
said, he was now to cast himself upon their favour 
in the greatest concern he could have in this world. 
He spoke much of his duty to the king, and of his 
zeal for the nation : and solemnly protested, that, 
whatever his religion might be, it should only be a 
private thing between God and his own soul, and 
that no effect of it should ever appear in the go- 
vernment. The proviso was carried for him by a 
few voices. And, contrary to all men's expecta- 
tions, it passed in the house of commons ^. There 
was also a proviso put in, excepting nine ladies 
about the queen. And she said, she would have all 
the ladies of that religion cast lots, who should be 
comprehended. Only she named the duchess of 
Portsmouth, as one whom she would not expose to 
the uncertainty of a lot; which was not thought 
very decent in her, though her circumstances at that \* 
time required an extraordinary submission to the 
king in every thing '. 

Coleman was brought to his trial. Oates andcoieman't 
Bedlow swore flatly against him, as was mentioned 
before. He denied, that he had ever seen either 
the one or the other of them in his whole life : and 
defended himself by Oates's not knowing him, when 

•^ By a majority of two. The great respect to the queen, 

numbers were 158 and 156. which her predecessor the cluch- 

See the Journal of 2 1 st of Nov, ess of Cleveland never did ; who, 

1678. O. the queen used to say, was 4 

' The duchess of Portsmoutli cruel woman. D. 

always behaved herself with 


M 3 


1678. they were first confi-onted, nor objecting those mat- 
ters to him for a great while after. He also pressed 
Oates to name the day in August, in which he had 
sent the fourscore guineas to the four ruffians. But 
Oates would fix on no day, though he was very 
punctual in matters of less moment. Coleman had 
been out of town almost that whole month. But, 
no day being named, that served him in no stead. 
He m*ged the improbability of his talking to two 
such men, whom he had by their own confession 
never seen before. But they said, he was told 
that they were trusted with the whole secret. His 
letters to P. de la Chaise was the heaviest part of 
the evidence. He did not deny, that there were 
many impertinent things in his letters : but, he said, 
he intended "nothing in them, but the king's service 
and the duke's : he never intended to bring in the 
catholic religion, by rebellion, or by blood, but only 
by a toleration : and the aid that was prayed from 
France, was only meant the assistance of money, 
and the interposition of that court. After a long 
437 trial, he was convicted : and sentence passed upon 
him to die as a traitor. He continued to his last 
breath denying every tittle of that which the wit- 
nesses had sworn against him. Many were sent to 
him from both houses, offering to interpose for his 
pardon, if he would confess. He still protested his 
innocence, and took great care to vindicate the 
duke. He said, his own heat might make him too 
forward: for, being persuaded of the truth of his 
religion, he could not but wish, that all others were 
not only almost, but altogether, such as he was, ex- 
cept in that chain ; for he was then in irons : he 
confessed, he had mixed too much interest for rais- 


ing himself in all he did ; and that he had received 1678. 
two thousand five hundred guineas from the French ' 

ambassador, to ffain some friends to his master, but 

■ ' .IT 

that he had kept them to himself: he had acted by ,.,,«, 

order in all that he had done: and he believed the "'*^^,J^ 
king knew of his employment, particularly that at 
Brussels. But, though he seemed willing to be 
questioned concerning the king, the committee did 
not think fit to do it, nor to report what he said con- 
cerning it: only in general they reported, that he 
spoke of another matter, about which they did not 
think fit to interrogate him, nor to mention it. Lit- 
tleton was one of the committee ; and gave me an '^ 
account of all that passed that very night. And I 
found his behaviour made gi'eat impression on them 
all. He suffered with much composedness and devo-^nJ "ecu- 
tion ; and died much better than he had lived. It 
was given out at that time, to make the duke more 
odious, that Coleman was kept up from making con- 
fessions, by the hopes the duke sent him of a pardon 
at Tyburn. But he could not be so ignorant, as not 
to know that, at that time, it was not in the king's 
power to pardon him, while the tide went so hight*'* 
The nation was now so much alarmed, that all 
people were furnishing themselves with arms, which 
heightened the jealousy of the court. A bill passed 
in both houses for raising all the militia, and for 
keeping it together for six weeks : a third part, if I 
remember right, being to serve a fortnight, and so 
round. I found some of them hoped, when that bill 
passed into a law, they would be more masters ; and 
that the militia would not separate, till all the de- 
mands of the two houses should be granted. The 
king [had notice of the consequence of that bill, 

M 4 


1678. and of the effects it might have. He] rejected the 
' bill, when offered to him for his assent, [and thanked 

me for the advice I sent him.] 
The king's J waited oftcn on him all the month of December. 

thoughts of 

this whole He came to me to Chiffinch's, a page of the back 

matter. . . 

stairs ; and kept the time he assigned me to a mi- 
nute. He was alone, and talked much and very 
freely with me. We agreed in one thing, that the 
greatest part of the evidence was a contrivance. 
But he suspected, some had set on Oates, and in- 
structed him : and he named the earl of Shaftsbury. 
I was of another mind. I thought the many gross 
438 things in his narrative shewed, there was no abler 
head than Oates, or Tonge, in the framing it *" ; and 
Oates in his first story had covered the duke and 
the ministers so much, that from thence it seemed 
clear that lord Shaftsbury had no hand in it, who 
hated them much more than he did popery. He 
fancied, there was a design of a rebellion on foot. 
I assured him, I saw no appearances of it. I told 
him, there was a report breaking out, that he in- 
tended to legitimate the duke of Monmouth. He 
answered quick, that, as well as he loved him, he 
had rather see him hanged. Yet he apprehended 
a rebellion so much, that he seemed not ill pleased 
that the party should flatter themselves with that 

" " (A certain lord of his " common sense, and especial- 

" (lord Shaftsbury's) confi- " ly in parliament? It is no 

" dence in parliament, once " matter, said he, the more 

** asked him what he intended " nonsensical the better; if we 

** to do with the plot, which " cannot bring them to swal- 

" was 80 full of nonsense, as " low worse nonsense than 

" would scarce go down with •' that, we shall never do any 

" tantum non'idiots; what then "good with them." North's 

" could he propose by pressing Examen of the Critical Hist, of 

" the belief of it upon men of England, cap. 1 1. §. cxx. p. 95.) 


imagination, hoping that would keep them quiet in 1678. 
a dependance upon himself: and he suffered the 
duke of Monmouth to use all methods to make him- 
self popular, reckoning that he could keep him in 
his own management. He was surprised, when I 
told him that Coleman had insinuated that he knew 
of all their foreign negotiations ; or at least he 
seemed so to me. I pressed him much to oblige the 
duke to enter into conferences with some of our di- 
vines, and to be present at them himself. This 
would very much clear him of jealousy, and might 
have a good effect on his brother : at least it would 
give the world some hopes ; hke what Henry IV. of 
France, his grandfather, did, which kept a party firm 
to him for some time before he changed. He an- 
swered, that his brother had neither Henry IV.'s 
understanding nor his conscience : for he believed, 
that king was always indifferent as to those mat- 
ters ". He would not hearken to this, which made 
me incline to beUeve a report I had heard, that the 
duke had got a solemn promise of the king, that he 
would never speak to him of religion. The king 
spoke much to me concerning Oates's accusing the 
queen, and acquainted me with the whole i)rogress 
of it. He said, she was a weak woman, and had 
some disagreeable humours, but was not capable of 
a wicked thing : and, considering his faultiness to- 
wards her in other things, he thought it a horrid 
thing to abandon her. He said, he looked on false- 
hood and cruelty as the greatest crimes in the sight 

" His brother was of another the crown of France was worth 

opinion, as the earl of Thanet a mass. To which he answered 

told me, who once took an oc- very hastily, " That story is 

casion to tell the dnke, he had " false, Harry the fourth was as 

heard that his grandfather said, " good a catholic as I am>" JPir 


1678. of God : he knew, he had led a bad life ; (of which 
he spoke with some sense :) but he was breaking 
himself of aU his faults : and he would never do a 
base and a wicked thing. I spoke on all these sub- 
jects what I thought became me, which he took 
well. And I encouraged him much in his resolution 
of not exposing the queen to perish by false swear- 
ing. I told him, there was no possibility of laying 
the heat that was now raised, but by changing his 
ministry. And I told him how odious the earl of 
Danby was, and that there was a design against 
him : but I knew not the particulars. He said, he 
439 knew that lay at bottom. The army was not yet 
disbanded : and the king was in great straits for 
money. The house of commons gave a money biU 
for this. Yet they would not trust the court with 
the disbanding the army : but ordered the money to 
be brought into the chamber of London, and named 
a committee for papng off and breaking the army. 
I perceived the king thought I was reserved to him, 
because I would tell him no particular stories, nor 
name persons. Upon which I told him, since he 
had that opinion of me, I saw I could do him no 
service, and would trouble him no more ; but he 
should certainly hear from me, if I came to know 
any thing that might be of any consequence to his 
person or government. '**'' ** 

This favour of mine lasted all the month of De- 
cember 78. I acquainted him with Carstairs's prac- 
tice against duke Lauderdale, and all that I knew 
of that matter ; which was the gi'ound on which I 
had gone with relation to Staley. The king told 
duke Lauderdale of it, without naming me. And 
he sent for Carstairs, and charged him with it. 


Caiistairs denied it all ; but said, that duke Hamilton 1678. 
and lord Kincardin had pressed him to do it : and ~" 

he went to the king, and affirmed it confidently to 
him. He did not name lord Athol, hoping that he 
would be gentle to him for that reason. The king 
spoke of this to duke Hamilton, who told him the 
whole story, as I had done. Lord Athol upon that 
sent for Carstairs, and charged him with all this 
foul dealing, and drew him near a closet, where he 
had put two witnesses. Carstairs said, that some- 
body had discovered the matter to duke Lauder- 
dale, that he was now upon the point of making his 
fortune, and that if duke Lauderdale grew to be 
his enemy, he was undone. He confessed, he had 
charged duke Hamilton and lord Kincardin falsely : 
but he had no other way to save himself. After the 
marquess of Athol had thus drawn every thing from 
him, he went to the king with his two witnesses, 
and the paper that Carstairs had formerly put in 
his hand. Carstairs was then with the king, and 
was, with many imprecations, justifying his charge 
against the two lords : but he was confounded, wheii 
he saw lord Athol. And upon that his villainy ap- 
peared so evidently, that the part I had acted in 
that matter was now well understood and approved 
of. Carstairs died, not long after, under great hor- 
ror ; and ordered himself to be cast into some ditch 
as a dog ; for he said he was no better. But I could 
never hear what he said of Staley's business. 

^Vhile all matters were in this confusion, a newP*°''y'» 

letters to 

incident happened that embroiled them yet more. Mountag«e 
The earl of Danby had broke with Mountague : but out. 
he knew what letters he had writ to him, and with 
what secrets he had trusted him. He apprehended 


1678. Mountague might accuse him : so he resolved to 
j^^Q prevent him. Jenkins, who was then at Nimeguen, 
wi'it over, according to a direction sent him, as was 
believed, that he understood that Mountague had 
been in a secret correspondence, and in dangerous 
practices with the pope's nuncio at Paris. This was 
meant of one Con, whom I knew well, who had been 
long in Rome : and most of the letters between 
England and Rome passed through his hands : he was 
a crafty man, and knew news weU, and loved money: 
so Mountague made use of him, and gave him mo- 
ney for such secrets as he could draw from him. 
Upon Jenkins's letter, the king sent a message to 
the house of commons, letting them know that he 
was resolved to bring Mountague to a trial, for being 
a confederate with Rome, and in the plot to bring in 
popery: and at the same time he sent to secure his 
cabinets and papers. This was a device of lord Dan- 
by's to find his own letters, and destroy them ; and 
then to let the prosecution fall : for they knew they 
had notliing against Mountague. But Mountague 
understood the arts of a court too well to be easily 
catched ; and had put a box, in which those letters 
were, in sure hands out of the way. A great debate 
rose upon this matter in the house of commons. It 
was thought a high breach of privilege to seize on 
the papers of a member of their house, when there 
was nothing of treason sworn against him. After 
some hours spent in the debate, during which Moun- 
■ ■ •< tague sat silent very long; at last, when the box was 
brought to him from the person to whom he had 
trusted it, he opened it, and took out two of lord 
Danby's letters, that contained instructions to him 
to treat with the king of France for 300,000/. a year 


for three years, if a peace succeeded, since it would 1678. 
not be convenient for the king to meet a parliament 
in all that time, and he was charged to mention no 
part of this to the secretaiy of state". Winnington, 
who from small beginnings, and from as small a pro- 
portion of learning in his profession, in which he was 
rather bold and ready than able, was now come to be 
solicitor general, fell severely upon those letters p. 
He said, here was a minister, who, going out of the 
affairs of his own province, was directing the king's 
ambassadors, and excluding the secretary of state, 
whose office it was, from the knowledge of it : here 
was the faith of England to our allies, and our in- 
terest likewise, set to sale for French money, and 
that to keep off a session of parliament : this was a 
design to sell the nation, and to subvert the govern- 
ment : and he concluded, that was high treason. 
Upon which he moved, that lord Danby should be 
impeached of high treason. The earl of Danby's 
party was much confounded. They could neither 
deny nor justify his letters. But they argued, that 
they could not be high treason, since no such fact 
was comprehended in any of the statutes of treason : 441 

"" (In Barillon's letters there p The old lord Trevor, who 

" are several relations of money knew him well, said to me, 

" sought by Buckingham and " that Winnington was in very 

" Mountague, and sometimes " little esteem in Westminster 

•' given, and oftener refused to " hall." But he was certainly 

" them. So far as I could dis- a man of parts, as appears in 

" cover in the jiapers at Ver- all his parliamentiir)* j^erform- 

" sailles. Mountague did not re- ances in these times. He was 

" ceivemore than 50,000 of the much sunk afterwards, and very 

*' 100,000 crowns promised to little considered, which carried 

" him for ruining lord Danby." him, after the revolution, into 

'Dalrymple's Memoirs of Great opposition to the measures of 

Britain and Ireland, Appendix. the court. O. 
p. 318.) 


1678' the letters seemed to be writ by the king's order, 
who certainly might appoint any person he pleased 
to send his orders to his ministers abroad : they re- 
flected on the business of the earl of Strafford, and 
en constructive treason, which was a device to con- 
demn a man for a fact against which no law did lie. 
Mainard, an ancient and eminent lawyer, explained 
the words of the statute of 25 Edward III. that the 
courts of law could not proceed but upon one of the 
crimes there enumerated: but the parliament had 
still a power, by the clause in that act, to declare 
what they thought was treason^ : so an act passed, 
declaring poisoning treason, in king Henry VIII.'s 
time : and though by the statute it was only treason 
to conspire against the prince of Wales ; yet if one 
should conspire against the whole royal family, when 
there was no prince of Wales, they would without 
doubt declare that to be high treason. J 

And he was After a lonff debate it was voted by a majority of 

impeached '-' _ j o ^^ 

of high trea- above scvcuty voices, that lord Danby should be im- 
peached of high treason. And the impeachment 
was next day carried up to the lords. The earl of 
Iti Danby justified himself, that he had served the king 
faithfully, and according to his own orders. And he 
produced some of Mountague's letters, to shew that 
at the court of France he was looked on as an enemy 
to their interest. He said, they knew him well that 
judged so of him ; for he was indeed an enemy to it: 
and, among other reasons, he gave this for one, that 
he knew the French king held both the king's per- 
son and government under the last degree of con- 

'1 Yes, by a new act, but nard was a knave and a fool, 
not with a retrospect there, with all his law. S. 
(perhaps therefore) for May- 


tempt. These words were thought very strange i6fs. 
with relation to both kings. A great debate arose 
in the house of lords concerning the impeachment ; 
whether it ought to be received as an impeachment 
of high treason, only because the commons added 
the word high treason in it. It was said, the utmost 
that could be made of it was to suppose it true : 
but even in that case they must needs say plainly, 
that it was not within the statute. To this it was 
answered, that the house of commons, that brought 
up the impeachment, were to be heard to two points : 
the one was, to the nature of the crime : the other 
was, to the trial of it : but the lords could not take 
upon them to judge of either of these, till they heard 
what the commons could offer to support the charge: 
they were bound therefore to receive the charge, and 
to proceed according to the rules of pai'liament, 
which was to commit the person so impeached, and 
then give a short day for his trial : so it would be 
soon over, if the commons could not prove the mat- 
ter charged to be high treason. The debate went 
on with great heat on both sides : but the majority 
was against the commitment. Upon this, it was 442 
visible, the commons would have complained that 
the lords denied them justice. So there was no 
hope of making up the matter. And upon that the The pariia. 

f . 1 meat was 

parliament was prorogued. prorogued. 

This was variously censured. The court con- 
demned Mountague for revealing the king*s secrets. 
Others said, that, since lord Danby had begun to fall 
on him, it was reasonable and natural for him to de- 
fend himself. The letters did cast a very great ble- 
mish, not only on Lord Danby, but on the king ; 
who, after he had entered into alliances, and had re- 


.1678. ceived great supplies from his people to carry on a 
~, war, was thus treating with France for money, 

which could not be asked or obtained from France 
on any other account, but that of making the con- 
federates accept of lower terms than otherwise they 
would have stood on ; which was indeed the selling 
of the allies and of the public faith. AU that the 
court said in excuse for this was, that, since the king 
saw a peace was resolved on, after he had put him- 
self to so great a charge to prepare for war, it was 
reasonable for him to be reimbursed as much as he 
could from France ; this was ordinary in all treaties, 
where the prince that desired a peace was made to 
buy it. This indeed would have justified the king, 
if it had been demanded above board ' : but such un- 
derhand dealing was mean and dishonourable : and 
it was said, that the States went into the peace with 
such unreasonable earnestness upon the knowledge, 
or at least the suspicion, that they had of such prac- 
tices. This gave a new wound to the king's credit 
abroad, or rather it opened the old one : for indeed 
after our breaking both the treaty of Breda, and the 
%\ triple alliance, we had not much credit to lose 
abroad. None gained so much by this discovery as 
secretary Coventry; since now it appeared, that he 
was not trusted with those ill practices. He had 
been severely fallen on for the famed saying of the 
murder of forty men. Birch aggravated the matter 
heavily ; and said, it seemed he thought the murder 
of forty men a very small matter, since he would ra- 
ther be guilty of it, than oppose an alliance made 
upon such treacherous views. Coventry answered, 
that he always spoke to them sincerely, and as he 
■■ Style of a gamester. S. 


thought ; and that if an angel from heaven should 1678. 
come and say otherwise, (at this they were very at- 
tentive, to see how he could close a period so 
strangely begun,) he was sure he should never get 
back to heaven again, but would be a fallen and 
a lying angel. Now the matter was well under- 
stood, and his credit was set on a sure foot. 

After the prorogation, the earl of Danby saw the 
king's affairs and the state of the nation required a 
speedy session. He saw little hope of recovering 
himself with that parliament, in which so great a 
majority were already so deeply engaged. So he en- 443 
tered into a treaty with some of the country party 
for a new parliament. He undertook to get the 
duke to be sent out of the way against the time of 
its meeting. Lord HoUis, Littleton, Boscawen, and 
Hambden were spoke to. They were all so appre- 
hensive of the continuance of that parliament, and 
that another set of ministers would be able to ma- 
nage them as the court pleased, that they did under- 
take to save him, if he could bring these things about. 
But it was understood that he must quit his post, 
and withdraw from affairs. Upon which they pro- 
mised their assistance to carry off his impeachment 
with a mild censure. The duke went into the ad- 
vice of a dissolution upon other grounds. He thought 
the house of commons had engaged with so much 
heat in the matter of the plot, that they could never 
be brought off, or be made more gentle in the mat- 
ter of religion. He thought a new parliament 
would act in a milder strain, and not fly so high ; or 
that they would give no money, and so the king and 
they would break : for he dreaded nothing so much 
as the bargains that weie made with the present par- 



1678. liament, in which popery was always to be the sa- 
' crifice. Thus both the duke and lord Danby joined 

in advancing a dissolution, which was not resolved 
on till the January following. 
The trial of In December, Ireland, Whitebread, and Fenwick, 
and some three Jcsuits ; and Grove and Pickering, two of the 
°*^^"' servants in the queen's chapel, were brought to their 
trial. Gates and Bedlow swore home against Ire- 
land, that in August last he had given particular 
orders about kiUing the king. Gates swore the 
same against the other two Jesuits. But Bedlow 
swore only upon hearsay against them. So, though 
they had pleaded to their indictment, and the jury 
was sworn, and the witnesses examined ; yet, when 
the evidence was not found full, their trial was put 
oflf to another time, and the jury was not charged 
with them. This looked as if it was resolved that 
they must not be acquitted. I complained of this 
to Jones : but he said, they had precedents for it. 
I always thought, that a precedent against reason 
signified no more, but that the like injustice had 
been done before. And the truth is, the crown has, 
or at least had, such advantages in trials of treason, 
that it seems strange how any person was ever ac- 
quitted. Ireland, in his own defence, proved by 
many witnesses, that he went from London on the 
second of August to Staffordshire, and did not come 
back till the twelfth of September. Yet, in opposi- 
tion to that, a woman swore that she saw him in 
London about the middle of August. So, since he 
might have come up post in one day, and gone 
down in another, this did not satisfy. Gates and 
Bedlow swore against Grove and Pickering, that 
they undertook to shoot the king at Windsor ; that 


Grove was to have 1500/. for it; and that Pic- 1678. 
kering chose thirty thousand masses, which, at aTTT 
shilUng a mass, amounted to the same sum : they 
attempted it three several times with a pistol : once 
the flint was loose : at another time there was no 
powder in the pan : and the third time the pistol 
was charged only with bullets. This was strange 
stuff. But all was imputed to a special providence 
of God : and the whole evidence was believed. So 
they were convicted, condemned, and executed. 
But they denied to the last every particular that 
was sworn against them. 

This began to shake the credit of the evidence, ougdaie** 
when a more composed and credible person came in 
to support it. One Dugdale, that had been the lord 
Aston's bailiff, and lived in a fair reputation in the 
country, was put in prison for refusing the oaths of 
allegiance and supremacy ^ He did then, with many 
imprecations on himself, deny, that he knew of any 
plot. But afterwards he made a great discovery of 
a correspondence that Evers, the lord Aston's Je- 
suit, held with the Jesuits in London ; who had writ 
to Evers of the design of killing the king, and de- 
sired him to find out men proper for executing it, 
whether they were gentlemen or not. This, he 
swore, was writ plain in a letter from Whitebread, 
the provincial, directed to himself: but he knew it 
was meant for Evers. Evers, and Govan, another 

* (Higgons, in his Remarks his master ; and observes, that 
on Burnet's Historj', p. 209, the bishop himself, in p, 505, 
points out, that on lord Staf- relates, that on the trial of Col- 
ford's trial, (he might have add- lege, Dugdale forswore himself 
ed, on the trial of the five Je- so directly, that he quite sunk 
suits,) it was proved, that Dug- his credit, and was never more 
dale was a man of bad character, heard of.) 
and had defrauded lord Aston 

N 2 


16/8. Jesuit, pressed this Dugdale to undertake it : they 
promised he should be canonized for it : and the 
lord Stafford offered him 500/. if he would set about 
it. He was a man of sense and temper; and be- 
haved himself decently; and had somewhat in his 
air and deportment that disposed people to beUeve 
him : so that the king himself began to think there 
was somewhat in the plot, though he had very little 
regard either to Oates or Bedlow. Dugdale's evi- 
dence was much confirmed by one circumstance. 
He had talked of a justice of peace in Westminster 
that was killed, on the Tuesday after Godfrey was 
missed : so that the news of this must have been 
writ from London on the Saturday night's post. He 
did not think it was a secret : and so he talked of it 
as news in an alehouse. The two persons, he said 
he spoke it to, remembered nothing of it, the one 
being the minister of the parish : but several others 
swore they had heard it. He saw this, as he swore, 
in a letter writ by Harcourt the Jesuit to Evers, in 
which Godfrey was named. But he added a strange 
story to this, which he said Evers told him after- 
wards ; that the duke had sent to Coleman, when 
he was in Newgate, to persuade him to discover no- 
thing, and that he desired to know of him, whe- 
ther he had ever discovered their designs to any 
other person ; and that Coleman sent back answer, 
that he had spoke of them to Godfrey, but to no 
other man : upon which the duke gave order to kill 
445 him. This was never made public till the lord Staf- 
ford's trial. And I was amazed to see such a thing 
break out after so long a silence. It looked Uke an 
addition to Dugdale's first evidence ; though he had 
been noted for having brought out all his discoveries 


at once. The earl of Essex told me, he swore it in 1678. 
his first examination : but, since it was only upon 
hearsay from Evers, and so was nothing in law, and 
yet would heighten the ftiry against the duke, the 
king charged Dugdale to say nothing of it. 

At the same time a particular discovery was made Prance dis- 

'^ •' ^ covers God- 

of Godfrey's murder. Prance, a goldsmith, that frey's mur- 

• dcr* 

wrought for the queen's chapel, had gone from his 
house for two or three days, the week before the mur- 
der. And one that lodged in his house, calling that 
to mind, upon Bedlow's swearing he saw the body 
in Somerset house, fancied that this was the time in 
which he was from home, and that he might be 
concerned in that matter ; though it appeared after- 
wards, that his absence was the week before. He 
said, he went from his own house, fearing to be put 
in prison, as many were, upon suspicion, or on the 
account of his religion. Yet upon this information he 
was seized on, and carried to Westminster. Bedlow 
accidentally passed by, not knowing any thing con- 
cerning him : and at first sight he charged some- 
body to seize on him; for he was one of those 
whom he saw about Godfrey's body. Yet he denied 
every thing for some days. Afterwards he con- 
fessed he was concerned in it : and he gave this ac- 
count of it : Girald and Kelly, two priests, engaged 
him and three others into it ; who were Green, that 
belonged to the queen's chapel. Hill, that had served 
Godden, the most celebrated writer among them, 
and Berry, the porter of Somerset house. He said, 
these all, except Berry, had several meetings, in 
which the priests persuaded them it was no sin, but 
a meritorious action, to despatch Godfrey, who had 
been a busy man in taking depositions against them, 
and that the taking him off would terrify others. 

N 3 


1678. Prance named an alehouse where they used to meet: 
" and the people of that house did confirm this of 

their meeting there. After they had resolved on it, 
they followed him for several days. The morning 
before they killed him, HiU went to his house, to see 
if he was yet gone out, and spoke to his maid. And, 
finding he was yet at home, they stayed for his com- 
ing out. This was confirmed by the maid, who, 
upon HiU's being taken, went to Newgate, and, in 
a crowd of prisoners, distinguished him, and said, 
he was the person that asked for her master the 
morning before he was lost. Prance said, they 
dogged him into a place near St. Clement's church, 
where he was kept tiU night. Prance was ap- 
pointed to be at Somerset house at night. [This 
laid the suspicion still heavier on the duke of Nor- 
folk'.] And, as Godfrey went by the water gate, 
two of them pretended to be hot in a quaiTel. And 
446 one run out to call a justice of peace, and so pressed 
Godfirey to go in and part them. He was not easily 
prevailed on to do it. Yet he did at last. Green 
then got behind him, and pulled a cravat about his 
neck, and drew him down to the ground, and stran- 
gled him. Upon that, Girald would have run him 
through : but the rest diverted him from that, by 
representing the danger of a discovery by the blood's 
being seen there. Upon that they carried his body 
up to Godden's room, of which Hill had the key, 
Godden being then in France. Two days after 
that, they removed it to a room cross the upper 
court, which Prance could never describe particu- 
larly. And, that not being found a convenient 
place, they carried it back to Godden's lodgings. 

' (Sec before, p. 429.) 


At last it was resolved to carry it out in the .night 1678. 
in a sedan to the remote parts of the town, and 
from thence to cast it into some ditch. On Wed- 
nesday a sedan was provided. And one of the cen- 
tinels swore he saw a sedan carried in : but none 
saw it brought out. Prance said, they carried him 
out, and that Green had provided a horse, on whose 
back he laid him, when they were got clear of 
the town : and then he carried him, as he believed, 
to the place where his body was found. This was 
a consisting story, which was supported in some cir- 
cumstances by collateral proofs. He added another 
particular, that, some days after the fact, those who 
had been concerned in it, and two others, who were 
in the secret, appointed to meet at Bow, where they 
talked much of that matter. This was confirmed 
by a servant of that house, who was coming in and 
out to them, and heard them often mention God- 
frey's name. Upon which he stood at the door out 
of curiosity to hearken : but one of them came out, 
and threatened him for it. The priests were not 
found: but Green, Hill, and Berry, were appre- 
hended upon it. Yet some days after this. Prance 
desired to be carried to the king, who would not see 
him, but in council : and he denied all that he had 
formerly sworn, and said it was all a fiction. But 
as soon as he was carried back to prison, he sent 
the keeper of Newgate to the king, to tell him, that 
all he had sworn was true, but that the horror and 
confusion he was in put him on denying it. Yet he 
went off from this again, and denied every thing. 
Dr. Lloyd was upon this sent to him, to talk with 
hmi. At first he denied every thing to him. But Dr. 
Lloyd said to me, that he was almost dead thi'ough 

N 4 


1678. the disorder of his mind, and with cold in his body. 
But after that Dr. Lloyd had made a fire, and 
caused him to be put in a bed, and began to dis- 
course the matter with him, he returned to his con- 
fession ; which he did in such a manner, that Lloyd 
said to me, it was not possible for him to doubt of 
his sincerity in it. 
Some con- So, he persisting in his first confession. Green, 
it^ who died Hill, and Berry were brought to their trial. Bed- 
denying it. ^qw and Praucc, with all the circumstances formerly 
mentioned, were the evidence against them. On 
the other hand they brought witnesses to prove, 
447 that they came home in a good hour on the nights 
in which the fact was said to be done. Those that 
lived in Godden's lodgings deposed, that no dead 
body could be brought thither, for they were every 
day in the room that Prance had named. And the 
centinels of that night of the carrying him out said, 
they saw no sedan brought out. They were, upon 
a fuU hearing, convicted and condemned. Green 
and Hill died, as they had lived, papists ; and, with 
solemn protestations, denied the whole thing. Berry 
declared himself a protestant ; and that though he 
had changed his religion for fear of losing his place, 
yet he had stiU continued to be one in his heart. He 
said, he looked on what had now befallen him, as a 
just judgment of God upon him for that dissimula- 
tion. He denied the whole matter charged on him. 
He seemed to prepare himself seriously for death : 
and to the last minute he affirmed he was altogether 
innocent. Dr. Lloyd attended on him, and was 
much persuaded of his sincerity. Prance swore no- 
thing against him, but that he assisted in the fact, 
and in carrying about the dead body. So Lloyd 


reckoned, that, those things being done in the night, 1678. 
Prance might have mistaken him for some other 
person who might be like him, considering the con- 
fiision that so much guilt might have put him in. 
He therefore believed Prance had sworn rashly 
with relation to him, but truly as to the main of the 
fact. The papists took great advantage f^om Ber- 
ry's dying a protestant, and yet denying all that 
was sworn against him, though he might have had 
his life, if he would have confessed it. They said, 
this shewed it was not from the doctrine of equivo- 
cation, or from the power of absolution, or any other 
of their tenets, that so many died, denying all that 
was sworn against them, but from their own convic- 
tion. And indeed this matter came to be charged 
on Dr. Lloyd, as if he had been made a tool for 
bringing Berry to this seeming conversion, and that 
all was done on design to cover the queen. But I 
saw him then every day, and was well assured that 
he acted nothing in it but what became his profes- 
sion, with aU possible sincerity. Prance began, after ' 
this, to enlarge his discoveries. He said, he had 
often heard them talk of killing the king, and of 
setting on a general massacre, after they had raised 
an army. Dugdale also said, he had heard them 
discourse of a massacre. The memory of the Irish 
massacre was yet so fresh, as to raise a particular 
horror at the very mention of this ; though where 
the numbers were so great as in Ireland, that might 
have been executed, yet there seemed to be no occa- 
sion to apprehend the like, where the numbers were 
in so great an inequality as they were here. Prance 
did also swear, that a servant of the lord Powis had 
told him, that there was one in their family who liad 


1678. undertaken to kill the king; but that some days 
after he told him, they were now gone off from that 
design. It looked very strange, and added no credit 
448 to his other evidence, that the papists should be 
thus talking of killing the king, as if it had been a 
common piece of news. But there are seasons of 
believing, as well as of disbelieving : and believing 
was then so much in season, that improbabilities or 
inconsistencies were little considered. Nor was it 
safe so much as to make reflections on them. That 
was called the blasting of the plot, and disparaging 
the king's evidence : though indeed Gates and Bed- 
low did, by their behaviour, detract more from their 
own credit, than all their enemies could have done. 
The former talked of aU persons with insufferable 
insolence : and the other was a scandalous libertine 
in his whole deportment. 
scroggs was The lord chief justice at that time was sir Wil- 
chief jm- liam Scroggs, a man more valued for a good readi- 
**'*• ness in speaking well, than either for learning in his 

profession, or for any moral virtue. His life had 
been indecently scandalous, and his fortunes were 
very low. He was raised by the earl of Danby's 
favour, first to be a judge, and then to be the chief 
justice. And it was a melancholy thing to see so 
bad, so ignorant, and so poor a man, raised up to 
that great post. Yet he, now seeing how the stream 
run, went into it with so much zeal and heartiness, 
that he was become the favourite of the people. 
But, when he saw the king had an ill opinion of it, 
he grew colder in the pursuit of it. He began to 
neglect and check the witnesses : upon which, they, 
who behaved themselves as if they had been the tri- 
bunes of the people, began to rail at him. Yet in 


all the trials he set himself, even with indecent ear- J678. 

nestness, to get the prisoners to be always cast. 

Another witness came in soon after these things, jennison's 
Jennison, the younger brother of a Jesuit, and a^*"*^"**' 
gentleman of a family and estate. He, observing 
that Ireland had defended himself against Oates 
chiefly by this, that he was in Staffordshire from the 
beginning of August till the 12th of September, and 
that he had died affirming that to be true, seemed 
much surprised at it; and upon that turned pro- 
testant. For he said, he saw him in London on the 
19th of August, on which day he fixed upon this 
account, that he saw him the day before he went 
down in the stage coach to York, which was proved 
by the books of that office to be the 20th of August. 
He said he was come to town from Windsor : and 
hearing that Ireland was in town, he went to see 
him, and found him drawing off his boots. Ire- 
land asked him news, and in particular, how the 
king was attended at Windsor ? And when he an- 
swered, that he walked about very carelessly, with 
very few about him, Ireland seemed to wonder at it, 
and said, it would be easy then to take him off: to 
which Jennison answered quick, God forbid: but 
Ireland said, he did not mean that it could be law- 
fully done. Jennison, in the letter in which he writ 
this up to a friend in London, added, that he re- 
membered an inconsiderable passage or two more, 
and that perhaps Smith (a priest that had lived 
with his father) could help him to one or two more 
circumstances relating to those matters : but he pro- 449 
tested, as he desired the forgiveness of his sins, and 
the salvation of his soul, that he knew no more; 
and wished he might never see the face of God, if 


1678. he knew any more. This letter was printed. And 
■ great use was made of it, to shew how little regard 

was to be had to those denials, with which so many 
had ended their lives. But this man in the summer 
thereafter published a long narrative of his know- 
ledge of the plot. He said, himself had been invited 
to assist in killing the king. He named the four 
ruffians that went to Windsor to do it. And he 
thought to have reconciled this to his letter, by pre- 
tending these were the circumstances that he had 
not mentioned in it. Smith did also change his re- 
ligion ; and deposed, that, when he was at Rome, 
he was told in general of the design of kiUing the 
king. He was afterwards discovered to be a vicious 
man. Yet he went no farther than to swear, that 
he was acquainted with the design in general, but 
not with the persons that were employed in it. By 
these witnesses the credit of the plot was universally 
established. Yet, no real proofs appearing, besides 
Coleman's letters and Godfrey's murder, the king, by 
a proclamation, did offer both a pardon and 200/. to 
any one that would come in, and make further dis- 
coveries. This was thought too great a hire to pur- 
chase witnesses. Money had Ijeen offered to those 
who should bring in criminals. But it was said to 
be a new and indecent practice to offer so much 
money to men that should merit it by swearing: 
and it might be too great an encouragement to 
Practices While the witnesses were weakening their own 

with the ^ , 

witnesses Credit, somc practiccs were discovered, that did very 
much support it. Reading, a lawyer of some sub- 
tilty, but of no virtue, was employed by the lords in 
the tower to solicit their affah-s. He insinuated 


himself much into Bedlow's confidence, and was 1678. 
much in his company : and, in the hearing of others, " 

he was always pressing him to tell all he knew. He 
lent him money very freely, which the other wanted 
often. And he seemed at first to design only to find 
out somewhat that should destroy the credit of his 
testimony. But he ventured on other practices ; and 
offered him much money, if he would turn his evi- 
dence against the popish lords only into a hearsay, 
so that it should not come home against them. 
Reading said, Bedlow began the proposition to him ; 
and employed him to see how much money these 
lords could give him, if he should bring them off: 
upon which Reading, as he pretended afterwards, 
seeing that innocent blood was like to be shed, was 
willing, even by indecent means, to endeavour to 
prevent it. Yet he freed the lords in the tower. 
He said they would not promise a farthing ; only 
the lord Stafford said, he would give himself two 
or three hundred pounds, which he might dispose of 
as he pleased. While Reading was driving the bar- 
gain, Bedlow was too hard for him at his own trade 
of craft: for, as he acquainted both prince Rupert and 450 
the earl of Essex with the whole negotiation, from 
the first step of it, so he placed two witnesses se- 
cretly in his chamber, when Reading was to come to 
him ; and drew him into those discourses, which 
discovered the whole practice of that corruption. 
Reading had likewise drawn a paper, by which he 
shewed him with how few and small alterations he 
could soften his deposition so as not to affect the 
lords. With these witnesses, and this paper. Bed- 
low charged Reading. The whole matter was proved 
beyond contradiction. And, as this raised his credit. 


1678. so it laid a heavy load on the popish lords ; though 
the proofs came home only to Reading, and he was 
set in the pillory for it. BedloAv made a very ill use 
of this discovery, which happened in March, to cover 
his having sworn against Whitebread and Fenwick 
only upon hearsay in December : for, being resolved 
to swear plain matter upon his own knowledge 
against them, when they should be brought again on 
their trial, he said, Reading had prevailed on him to 
be easy to them, as he called it ; and that he had 
said to him that the lords would take the saving of 
these Jesuits as an earnest of what he would do for 
themselves ; though it was not very probable that 
these lords would have abandoned Ireland, when 
they took such care of the other Jesuits. The truth 
was, he ought to have been set aside from being a 
witness any more, since now by his own confession 
he had sworn falsely in that trial : he had first sworn, 
he knew nothing of his own knowledge against the 
two Jesuits, and afterwards he swore copiously 
against them, and upon his own knowledge. Wyld, 
a worthy and ancient judge, said upon that to him, 
that he was a perjured man, and ought to come no 
more into courts, but to go home, and repent. Yet aU 
this was passed over, as if it had been of no weight : 
and the judge was turned out for his plain freedom. 
There was soon after this another practice disco- 
vered conceraing Gates. Some that belonged to the 
earl of Danby conversed much with Oates's servants. 
They told them many odious things that he was 
daily speaking of the king, which looked liker one 
that intended to ruin than to save him. One of 
these did also affirm, that Gates had made an abo- 


minable attempt upon him not fit to be named. 1678. 
Oates smelled this out, and got his servants to 
deny all that they had said, and to fasten it upon 
those who had been with them, as a practice of 
theirs : and they were upon that likewise set on the 
pillory. And, to put things of a sort together, 
though they happened not aU at once : one Tas- 
borough, that belonged to the duke's court, entered 
into some correspondence with Dugdale, who was 
courting a kinswoman of his. It was proposed, that 
Dugdale should sign a paper, retracting all that he 
had formerly sworn, and should upon that go beyond 
sea, for which he was promised, in the duke's name, 
a considerable reward. He had written the paper, 
as was desu'ed: but he was too cunning for Tas- 
borough, and he proved his practices upon him. He 451 
pretended he drew the paper only to draw the other 
further on, that he might be able to penetrate the 
4eeper into their designs. Tasborough was fined, 
and set in the pillory for tampering thus with the 
king's evidence. 

This was the true state of the plot, and of the ^''ect'O"* 

. ujion the 

Witnesses that proved it; which I have opened as whole evi- 
fully as was possible for me : and I had particular *°*^' 
occasions to be well instructed in it. Here was mat- 
ter enough to work on the fears and apprehensions 
of the nation : so it was not to be wondered at, if 
parliaments were hot, and juries were easy in this 
prosecution. The visible evidences that appeared, 
made all people conclude there was great plotting 
among them. And it was generally believed, that 
the bulk of what was sworn by the witnesses was 
true, though they had by all appearance dressed it 
up with incredible circumstances. What the men 


1678. of learning knew concerning their principles, both of 
deposing of kings, and of the lawfulness of murder- 
ing them when so deposed, made them easily con- 
clude, that since they saw the duke was so entirely 
theirs, and that the king was so little to be de- 
pended on, they might think the present conjuncture 
was not to be lost. And since the duke's eldest 
daughter was already out of their hands, they might 
make the more haste to set the duke on the throne. 
The tempers, as weU as the morals, of the Jesuits, 
made it reasonable to believe, that they were not 
apt to neglect such advantages, nor to stick at any 
sort of falsehood in order to their own defence. The 
doctrine of probability, besides many other maxims 
that are current among them, made many give little 
credit to their witnesses, or to their most solemn de- 
nials, even at their execution. Many things were 
brought to shew, that by the casuistical divinity 
taught among them, and published by them to the 
world, there was no practice so bad, but that the 
doctrines of probability, and of ordering the inten- 
tion, might justify it. Yet many thought, that, 
what doctrines soever men might by a subtilty of 
speculation be carried into, the approaches of death, 
with the seriousness that appeared in their deport- 
ment, must needs work so much on the probity and 
candour which seemed rooted in human nature", 
that even immoral opinions, maintained in the way 
of argument, could not then resist it. Several of 
our divines went far in this charge, against all re- 
gard to their dying speeches ; of which some of our 
own church complained, as inhuman and indecent. 

" Credat Judaeus Apella. S. 


[I looked always on this as an opening their graves, 1678. 
and the putting them to a second death.] 

In January a new parliament was summoned. 1679. 
The elections were carried with great heat, and went liament. 
almost every where against the court. Lord Danby 
resolved to leave the treasury at Lady-day. And in 
that time he made great advantage by several pay- 
ments which he got the king to order, that were due 
upon such slight pretences, that it was believed he 
had a large share of them to himself: so that he left 452 
the treasury quite empty. He persuaded the king 
to send the duke beyond sea, that so there might be 
no colour for suspecting that the counsels were in- 
fluenced by him. He endeavoured to persuade the 
duke, that it was fit for him to go out of the way. 
If the king and the parliament came to an agree- 
ment, he might depend on the promise that the king 
would make him, of recalling him immediately : and 
if they did not agree, no part of the blame could be 
cast on him ; which must happen otherwise, if he 
staid still at court. Yet no rhetoric would have pre- 
vailed on him to go, if the king had not told him po- 
sitively, it was for both their service, and so it must 
be done. 

Before he went away, the king gave him aU pos- riie duke 
sible satisfaction with relation to the duke of Mon- gel!.' *^**" 
mouth, who was become very popular, and his crea- 
tures were giving it out, that he was the king's law- 
ful son. So the king made a solemn declaration in 
council, and both signed it and took his oath on it, 
that he was never married, nor contracted to that 
duke's mother ; nor to any other woman, except to 
his present queen. The duke was sent away upon 

VOL. II. o 



1679. v^^y short warning, not without many tears shed by 
him at parting, though the king shed none. He 
went first to HoUand, and then to Brussels, where 
he was but coldly received ^. 

At the opening the parliament in March, the 
parting with an only brother, to remove aU jealousy, 
was magnified with aU the pomp of the earl of Not- 
tingham's eloquence. Lord Danby's friends were in 
some hopes that the great services which he had 
done would make matters brought against him to be 
handled gently. But in the management he com- 
mitted some errors, that proved very unhappy to 

Seimour and he had fallen into some quarrelings, 
both being very proud and violent in their tempers. 
Seimour had in the last session struck in with that 

^ By his own letters (to the 
first lord Dartmouth) from 
Brussels, he seems very well sa- 
tisfied with the civilities he re- 
ceived there, but seems verj'^ jea- 
lous of the king. In one dated 
the 2 2d of July, he writes, 
** There is one thing troubles 
" me very much, and puts odd 
" thoughts into my head ; it is, 
" that all this while, his ma- 
" jesty has never said a word, 
" nor gone about to make a 
" good understanding between 
" me and the duke of Mon- 
" mouth; for though it is a 
" thing I shall never seek, yet 
*' methinks it is what his ma- 
" jesty might press. Think of 
" this, and I am sure you may 
" draw consequences from it, 
" which I shall not mention to 
" you, but are obvious enough 
** to any one that considers," 
About this time the princess of 

Orange thought herself with 
child, as 1 find by a letter of 
the duke's from Brussels, in 
which he says, " I did not de- 
" sign to go to the Hague, ex- 
'• cept my daughter had been 
" brought to bed, arwi of that 
" there was no likelihood, but 
" now I am going thither upon 
" another account, which is to 
" endeavour to undeceive those 
" who persuade her she is yet 
" with child." The duke after- 
wards told my father, the wo- 
men who were constantly about 
her person assured him, that 
they had never perceived that 
the prince had given her any 
real reason to think she could 
be with child, though he lay 
always in the bed with her, and 
she was at that time one of the 
most beautiful women in Eu- 
rope. D. 


heat against popery, that he was become popular iS/y. 
upon it. So he managed the matter in this new par- 
liament, that though the court named Meres, yet he 
was chosen speaker. The nomination of the speaker 
was understood to come from the king, though he 
was not named as recommending the person. Yet a 
privy counsellor named one : and it was understood 
to be done by order. And the person thus named 
was put in the chair, and was next day presented to 
the king, who approved the choice. When Seimour 
was next day presented as the speaker, the king re- 
fused to confirm the election. He said, he had other 
occasions for him, which could not be dispensed with. 
Upon this great heats arose, with a long and violent 
debate. It was said, the house had the choice of 
their speaker in them, and that their presenting the 
speaker was only a solemn shewing him to the king, 
such as was the presenting the lord mayor and 
sheriffs of London in the exchequer; but that the 
king was bound to confirm then* choice. This de- 
bate held a week, and created much anger. 

A temper was found at last. Seimour's election 453 
was let fall ^ : but the point was settled, that the 
right of electing was in the house, and that the con- 
firmation was a thing of course". So another was 
chosen speaker. And the house immediately fell on 
lord Danby. Those who intended to serve him said, 
the heat this dispute had raised, which was imputed 
wholly to him, had put it out of their power to do it. 

^ By a short prorogation of by this contest was, that a 
the parliament. O. speaker might be moved for by 

* The earl of Oxford, (Har- one who was not a privy coun- 
ley,) who had been speaker, used sellor. Lord Riissel now moved 
to sav, that all the commons got for Gregory. O. 



1679. ^"* ^^ committed other eiTors. He took out a par- 
doii under the great seal. The eaii of Nottingham 
durst not venture to pass it. So the king ordered 
the seal to be put to the pardon in his own presence. 
And thus, according to lord Nottingham's figure, 
when he was afterwards questioned about it, it did" 
not pass through the ordinary methods of produc- 
tion, but was an immediate effect of his majesty's 
power of creating>'. He also took out a warrant to 
be marquess of Caermarthen. And the king, in a 
speech to the parliament, said, he had done nothing 
but by his order; and therefore he had pardoned 
him ; and, if there was any defect in his pardon, he 
would pass it over and over again, till it should be 
quite legal. 
Danby par- Upou this a great debate was raised. Some ques- 
th°king^, tioned whether the king's pardon, especially when 
cuted b *^the P^^^^*^ ^^ bar to an impeachment, was good in law : 
house of this would eucouraffc iU ministers, who would be 


always sure of a pardon, and so would act more 
boldly, if they saw so easy a way to be secured 
against the danger of impeachments : the king's 
pardon did indeed secure one against all prosecu- 
tion at his suit : but, as in the case of murder an 
appeal lay, from which the king's pardon did not 
cover the person, since the king could no more par- 
don the injuries done his people, than he could • 
forgive the debts that were owing to them ; so from 
a parity of reason it was inferred, that since the of- 
' fences of ministers of state were injuries done the 
public, the king's pardon could not hinder a prosecu- 

y His words, as reported by don of creation. See the Jour- 
the committee of the commons, nal of the House of Commons, 
were, that it was a stampt par- 22d and 24th March, 1678. O. 


tion in parliament, which seemed to be one of the jg-g 

chief securities, and most essential parts of our con- 

stitution. Yet on the other hand it was said, that 
the power of pardoning was a main article of the 
king's prerogative : none had ever yet been an- 
nulled : the law had made this one of the trusts of 
the government, without any limitation uppn it : all 
arguments against it might be good reasons for the 
limiting it for the future : but what was already 
passed was good in law, and could not be broke 
through. The temper proposed was, that, upon 
lord Danby's going out of the way, an act of banish- 
ment should pass against him, like that which had 
passed against the earl of Clarendon. Upon that, 
when the lords voted that he should be committed, 
he withdrew. So a biU of banishment passed in the 
house of lords, and was sent down to the commons. 
Winnington fell on it there in a most furious man- 
ner. He said, it was an act to let all ministers see 
what was the worst thing that could happen to 
them, after they had been engaged in the blackest 
designs, and had got great rewards of wealth and 454 
honour : aU they could suffer was, to be obliged to 
live beyond sea. This inflamed the house so, that 
those who intended to have moderated that heat, 
found they could not stop it. Littleton sent for 
me that night, to try if it was possible to mollify 
Winnington. We laid before him, that the king 
seemed brought near a disposition to grant every 
thing that could be desired of him : and why must 
an attainder be brought on, which would create a 
breach that could not be healed ? The earl of Dan by 
was resolved to bear a banishment ; but would come 
in, rather than be attainted, and plead his pardon : 



1679. and then the king was upon the matter made the 
party in the prosecution, which might ruin all: we 
knew how bad a minister he had been, and had felt 
the ill effects of his power : but the public was to be 
preferred to all other considerations. But Win- 
nington was then so entirely in Mountague's ma- 
nagement, and was so blown up with popularity, and 
so much provoked by being turned out of the place q£ 
solicitor general, that he could not be prevailed on. 
It was offered afterwards from the court, as Little- 
ton told me, both that lord Danby should by act of 
parUament be degraded from his peerage, as well as 
banished, and that an act should pass declaring for 
the future no pardon should be pleaded in bar to an 
impeachment. But the fury of the time was such, 
that all oflfers were rejected. And so a very proba- 
ble appearance of settling the nation was lost : for 
the bill for banishing lord Danby was thrown out by 
the commons. And instead of it a bill of attainder 
was brought in. The treasury was put in commis- 
sion. The earl of Essex was put at the head of it. 
And Hide and Godolphin were two of the commis- 
sion. The earl of Sunderland was brought over 
from France, and made secretary of state. And lord 
Essex and lord Sunderland joined with the duke of 
Monmouth, to press the king to change his counsels, 
and to turn to another method of government, and 
to take the men of the greatest credit into his 
confidence. Lord Essex was much blamed for going 
in so early into the court, before the rest were 
brought in. He said to me, he did it in the prospect 
of working the change that was afterwards effected. 
Lord Sunderland also told me, that the king was 
easy in the bringing in lord Shaftsbury; for he 


thought he was ^only angry in revenge, because he 1679. 

was not employed ; but that he had so ill an opinion 

o{ lord Halifax, that it was not easy to get over that. 
The duke of Monmouth told me, that he had as 
great difficulty in overcoming that, as ever in any 
thing that he studied to bring the king to'^. 

At last the king was prevailed on to dismiss the a new 

1 r> 1 -r* council. 

whole council, which was all made up of lord Dan- 
by's creatures. And the chief men of both 'houses 
were brought into it. This was earned with so 
much secrecy, that it was not so much as suspected, 
till the day before it was done". The king was 
weaiy of the vexation he had been long in, and de- 455 
sired to be set at ease. And at that time he would 
have done any thing to get an end put to the plot, 
and to the fermentation that was now over the whole 
nation : so that, if the house of commons would have 
let the matter of lord Danby's pardon fall, and have 
accepted of limitations on his brother, instead of ex- 
cluding him, he was willing to have yielded in every 
thing else. He put likewise the admiralty and ord- 
nance into commissions ; out of all which the duke's 
creatures were so excluded, that they gave both him 
and themselves for lost. But the hatred that Moun- 
tague bore lord Danby, and lord Shaftsbury's hatred 
to the duke, spoiled all tliis. There were also many 
in the house of commons, who, finding themselves 

' This sudden short-lived most excellent picture of courts 

turn always went by the name of and courtiers, and of faction 

sir William Temple's scheme. D. and its leaders. Temple was 

=• See sir W. Temple's Me- too honest for those limes. He 

moirs, part 3. This change was made only for such a prince 

was his work, except the bring- as king William : but he would 

ing in of the lord Shaftsburj'. take no public employment even 

That part of his Memoirs is the under him. O. 

o 4« 

1679. forgot, while others were preferi'ed to them, resolved 

to make themselves considerable. And they infused 
into a great many a mistrust of aU that was doing. 
It was said, the king was still what he was before. 
No change appeared in him. And all this was only 
an artifice to lay the heat that was in the nation, to 
gain so many over to him, and so to draw money from 
the commons. So they resolved to give no money, 
till aU other things should be first settled. No part 
of the change that was then made was more accept- 
able than that of the judges : for lord Danby had 
brought in some sad creatures to those important 
posts. And Jones had the new modelling of the bench. 
And he put in very worthy men, in the room of 
those ignorant judges that were now dismissed. 
Debates The main point in debate was, what security the 

theTxcTu-^ king should offer to quiet the fears of the nation 
"*"*• upon the account of the duke's succession. The earl 
of Shaftsbury proposed the excluding him simply, 
and making the succession to go on, as if he was 
dead, as the only mean that was easy and safe both 
for the crown and the people : this was nothing but 
the disinheriting the next heir, which certainly the 
king and parliament might do, as well as any pri- 
vate man might disinherit his next heir, if he had a 
mind to it^. The king would not consent to this. 
He had faithfully promised the duke, that he never 
would. And he thought, if acts of exclusion were 
once begun, it would not be easy to stop them ; but 
that upon any discontent at the next heir, they would 
be set on : religion was now the pretence : but other 
pretences would be found out, when there was need 

^ That is not always true. power of king and i)arliament 
Yet it was certainly in the to exclude the next heir. S. 


of them : this insensibly would change the nature of 1679. 
the English monarchy : so that from being heredi- ' 

tary it would become elective. The lords of Essex 
and Halifax upon this proposed such limitations of 
the duke's authority, when the crown should devolve 
on him, as would disable him from doing any harm, 
either in church or state : such as the taking out of 
his hand all power in ecclesiastical matters, the dis- 
posal of the public money, with the power of peace 
and war, and the lodging these in both houses of 
parliament ; and that whatever parliament was in 456 
being, or the last that had been in being at the 
king's death, should meet, without a new summons, 
upon it, and assume the administration of affairs. 
Lord Shaftsbury argued against this, as much more 
prejudicial to the crown, than the exclusion of one 
heir: for this changed the whole government, and 
set up a democracy instead of a monarchy. Lord 
Halifax's arguing now so much against the danger 
of turning the monarchy to be elective, was the more 
extraordinary in him, because he had made an here- 
ditary monarchy the subject of his mirth ; and had 
often said. Who takes a coachman to drive him, be- 
cause his father was a good coachman ? Yet he was 
now jealous of a small slip in the succession. But 
at the same time he studied to infuse into some a 
zeal for a commonwealth. And to these he pre- 
tended, that he preferred limitations to an exclusion : 
because the one kept up the monarchy still, only 
passing over one person ; whereas the other brought 
us really into a commonwealth, as soon as we had a 
popish king over us. And it was said by some of 
his friends, that the limitations proposed were so ad- 
vantageous to public liberty, that a man might be 


1679. tempted to wish for a popish king, to come at 

Upon this great difference of opinion, a faction 
was quickly formed in the new council. The lords 
Essex, Sunderland, and Halifax declaring for limi- 
tations, and against the exclusion ; whde lord Shafts- 
bury, now made president of the council, declared 
highly for it. They took much pains on him to mo- 
derate his heat : but he was become so intolerably 
vain, that he would not mix with them, unless he 
might govern. So they broke with him : and the 
other three were called the triumvirate. Lord Essex 
applied himself to the business of the treasury, to the 
regulating the king's expence, and the improvement 
of the revenue. His clear, though slow sense, made 
him very acceptable to the king. Lord Halifax 
studied to manage the king's spirit, and to gain an 
ascendant there by a lively and libertine conversa- 
tion. Lord Sunderland managed foreign affairs, and 
had the greatest credit with the duchess of Ports- 
mouth. After it was agreed on to offer the limita- 
tions, the lord chancellor, by order from the king, 
made the proposition to both houses. The duke was 
struck with the news of this, when it came to him to 
Brussels. I saw a letter writ by his duchess the 
next post: in which she wrote, that as for all the 
high things that were said by their enemies they 
looked for them, but that speech of the lord chan- 
cellor's was a surprise, and a great mortification to 
them. Their apprehensions of that did not hang 
long upon them. The exclusion was become the 
popular expedient. So, after much debating, a biQ 
was ordered for excluding the duke of York. I will 
give you here a short abstract of all that was said. 


both within and without doors, for and against the 1679. 

Those who argued for it laid it down for a found- 457 
ation, that every person, who had the whole right ^J^^™^°** 
of any thing in him, had likewise the power of »"<! aga»°st 
transferring it to whom he pleased. So the kingsion. 
and parliament, being entirely possessed of the whole 
authority of the nation, had a power to limit the 
succession, and every thing else relating to the na- 
tion, as they pleased. And by consequence there 
was no such thing as a fundamental law, by which 
the power of parliament was bound up : for no king 
and parUament in any former age had a power over 
the present king and parliament ; otherwise the go- 
vernment was not entire, nor absolute. A father, 
how much soever determined by nature to provide 
for his children, yet had certainly a power of disin- 
heriting them, without which, in some cases, the re- 
spect due to him could not be preserved. The life 
of the king on the throne was not secure, unless 
this was acknowledged. For if the next heir was a 
traitor, and could not be seized on, the king would 
be ill served in opposition to him, if he could not 
bar his succession by an exclusion. Government 
was appointed for those that were to be governed, 
and not for the sake of governors themselves '^ ; 
therefore all things relating to it were to be mea- 
sured by the public interest and the safety of the 
people. In none of God's appointments in the Old 
Testament regard was had to the eldest. Isaac, 
Jacob, Judah, Ephraim, and more particularly Solo- 

*^ A true maxim and infal- cause even the next heir, if a 
lible. S. (The preceding ar- traitor, might, according to law, 
gunient was a weak one, be- be capitally punished.) 


J 679. mon, were preferred without any regard to the next 
in line. In the several kingdoms of Europe, the 
Ti-' succession went according to particular laws, and 
not by any general law. In England, Spain, and 
Sweden, the heir general did succeed : whereas it 
was only the heir male in France and Germany. 
And whereas the oath of allegiance tied us to the 
king and his heirs, the word heir was a term that 
imported that person who by law ought to succeed : 
and so it fell by law to any person who was declared 
next in the succession. In England the heir of the 
king that reigned had been sometimes set aside, and 
the right of succession transferred to another person. 
Henry VII. set up his title on his possessing the 
crown. Henry VIII. got his two daughters, while 
they were by acts of parliament illegitimated, put in 
the succession : and he had a power given him to 
devise it after them, and their issue, at his pleasure. 
Queen Elizabeth, when she was in danger from the 
practices of the queen of Scots, got an act to pass 
asserting the power of the parliament to limit the 
succession of the crown. It was high treason to 
deny this during her life, and was still highly penal 
to this day. All this was laid down in general, to 
assert a power in the parliament to exclude the 
next heir, if there was a just cause for it. Now as 
to the present case, the popish religion was so con- 
trary to the whole frame and constitution of our go- 
vernment, as well as to that dignity inherent in the 
crown, of being the head of the church, that a pa- 
pist seemed to be brought under a disability to hold 
the crown. A great part of the property of the na- 
tion, the abbey lands, was shaken by the prospect of 
458 such a succession. The perfidy and the cioielty of 

OF KING II. 205 

that religion made the danger more sensible. Fires, 1679. 
and courts of inquisition, were that which all must 
reckon for, who would not redeem themselves by an 
early and zealous conversion. The duke's own tem- 
per was much insisted on. It appeared by all their 
letters, how much the papists depended on him : and 
his own deportment shewed there was good reason 
for it. He would break through all limitations, and 
call in a foreign power, rather than submit to them. 
Some mercenary lawyers would give it for law, that 
the prerogative could not be limited, and that a law 
limiting it was void of it self. Revenges for past in- 
juries, when joined to a bigotry in religion, would 
be probably very violent. 

On the other hand, some argued against the ex- 
qlusion : that it was unlawful in it self, and against 
tli.e unalterable law of succession ; (which came to 
be the common phrase.) Monarchy was said to be 
by divine right : so the law could' not alter what 
God had settled. Yet few went at first so high. 
Much weight was laid on the oath of allegiance, that 
tied us to the king's heirs : and whoso was the heir 
when any man took that oath, was stiU the heir to 
him. AU lawyers had great regard to fundamental 
laws. And it was a maxim among our lawyers, 
that even an act of parliament against Magna Charta 
was null of it self *^. There was no arguing from 
the changes in the course of the succession. These 
had been the effects of prosperous rebellions. Nor 
from Henry VI I. 's reigning in the right of his 
queen, and yet not owning it to be so. Nor was it 
strange, if in so violent a reign as Henry VIII.'s 

<* A sottish maxim. S. 


1679. ^^^^ were made in prejudice of the right of blood. 

But though his daughters were made bastards by 

two several acts, yet it was notorious they were both 
bom in a state of marriage. And when unlawful 
marriages were annulled, yet such issue as descended 
from them bona ^de used not to be illegitimated. 
But though that king made a will pursuant to an 
act of parliament, excluding the Scotish line, yet 
such regard the nation had to the next in blood, 
that, without examining the wiU, the Scotish line 
was received. It is true, queen Elizabeth, out of 
her hatred to the queen of Scots, got the famed act 
to pass, that declares the parliament's power of li- 
miting the succession. But since that whole matter 
ended so fataUy, and was the great blemish of her 
reign, it was not reasonable to build much on it. 
These were the arguments of those, who thought 
the parliament had not the power to enact an ex- 
clusion of the next heir : of which opinion the earl 
of Essex was at this time. Others did not go on 
these grounds : but they said, that though a father 
has indeed a power of disinheriting his son, yet he 
ought never to exert it but upon a just and neces- 
sary occasion. It was not yet legally certain, that 
the duke was a papist. This was a condemning 
him unheard. A man's conscience was not even in 
his own power. It seemed therefore to be an un- 
justifiable severity, to cut off so great a right only 
for a point of opinion. It is ti*ue, it might be rea- 
sonable to secure the nation from the ill effects that 
459 opinion might have upon them, which was fully 
done by the limitations. But it was unjust to carry 
it further. The protestants had charged the church 
of Rome heavily for the league of France, in order 


to the excluding the house of Bourbon from the sue- 1679. 
cession to the crown of France, because of heresy : 
and this would make the charge return back upon 
us, to our shame. In the case of infancy, or lunacy, 
guardians were assigned : but the right was stiU in 
the true heir. A popish prince was considered as in 
that state : and these limitations were like the as- 
signing him guardians. The crown had been for 
several ages limited in the power of raising money ; 
to which it may be supposed a high spirited king 
did not easily submit, and yet we had long main- 
tained this : and might it not be hoped, the limita- 
tions proposed might be maintained in one reign ; 
chiefly considering the zeal and the number of those 
who were concerned to support them? Other princes 
might think themselves obliged in honour and reli- 
gion to assist him, if he was quite excluded : and it 
might be the occasion of a new popish league, that 
might be fatal to the whole protestant interest. 
Whereas, if the limitations passed, other princes would 
not so probably enter into the laws and establish- 
ment settled among ns. It was said, many in the 
nation thought the exclusion unlawful: but all would 
jointly concur in the limitations : so this was the se- 
curest way, that comprehended the greatest part of 
the nation : and probably Scotland would not go 
into the exclusion, but merit at the duke's hands by 
asserting his title : so here was a foundation of war 
round about us, as well as of great distractions 
among ourselves : some regard was to be had to the 
king's honour, who had so often declared, he would 
not consent to an exclusion ; but would to any li- 
mitations, how hard soever. 

These were the chief arguments upon which this 


1679. debate was managed. For my own part, I did al- 
' ways look on it as a wild and extravagant conceit, 

to deny the lawfulness of an exclusion in any case 
whatsoever. But for a great while I thought the 
accepting the limitations was the wisest and best 
method ^. I saw the driving on the exclusion would 
probably throw us into great confusions. And there- 
fore I made use of all the credit I had with many in 
both houses, to divert them from pursuing it, as they 
did, with such eagerness, that they would hearken 
to nothing else. Yet, when I saw the party so 
deeply engaged, and so violently set upon it, both 
Tillotson and I, who thought we had some interest 
in lord Halifax, took great pains on him, to divert 
him from opposing it so furiously as he did : for he 
became as it were the champion against the exclu- 
sion. I foresaw a great breach was like to follow. 
And that was plainly the game of popery, to keep 
us in such an unsettled state. This was like either 
to end in a rebellion, or in an abject submission of 
the nation to the humours of the court. I confess, 
that which I apprehended most was rebellion, though 
it turned afterwards quite the other way. But men 
460 of more experience, and who had better advantages 
to make a true judgment of the temper of the na- 
tion, were mistaken as weU as my self. AU the pro- 
gress that was made in this matter in the present 
parliament, was, that the bill of exclusion was read 
twice in the house of commons. But the parliament 
was dissolved before it came to a third reading ^ 
Danby's The carl of Danby's prosecution was the point on 

prosecu- .- x _ r 


^ It was the wisest, because otherwise an exchision would 

it would be less opposed ; and have done better. S. 

the king would consent to it ; f See p. 497. O. 


which the parliament was broken. The bill of at- 1679. 
tainder for his wilful absence was passed by the 
commons, and sent up to the lords. But, when it 
was brought to the third reading, he delivered him- 
self; and was upon that sent to the tower: upon 
which he moved for his trial. The man of the law 
he depended most upon was PoUexfen, an honest 
and learned, but perplexed lawyer. He advised him 
positively to stand upon his pardon. It was a point 
of prerogative never yet judged against the crown : 
so he might in that case depend upon the house of 
lords, and on the king's interest there. It might 
perhaps produce some act against all pardons for the 
future. But he thought he was secure in his par- 
don. It was both wiser, and more honourable for 
the king, as well as for himself, to stand on this, 
than to enter into the matter of the letters, which 
would occasion many indecent reflections on both. 
So he settled on this, and pleaded his pardon at the 
lords' bar: to which the commons put in a reply, 
questioning the validity of the pardon, on the grounds 
formerly mentioned. And they demanded a trial 
and judgment. 

Upon this a famous debate arose, concerning the 
bishops' right of voting in any part of a trial for 
treason. It was said, that, though the bishops did 
not vote in the final judgment, yet they had a right 
to vote in all preliminaries. Now the allowing or 
not allowing the pardon to be good, was but a pre- 
liminary : and yet the whole matter was concluded 
by it. The lords Nottingham and Roberts argued 
for the bishops' voting. But the lords Essex, Shafts- 
bury, and Hollis were against it. Many books were 
writ on both sides, of which an account shall be 

VOL. II. p 


1679. given afterwards. But upon this debate it was car- 
" ried by the majority, that the bishops had a right to 
vote. Upon which the commons said they would 
not proceed, unless the bishops were obliged to with- 
draw during the whole trial. And upon that breach 
between the two houses the parliament was pro- 
rogued : and soon after it was dissolved. And the 
blame of this was cast chiefly on the bishops. The 
truth was, they desired to have withdrawn, but the 
king would not suffer it. He was so set on main- 
taining the pardon, that he would not venture such 
a point on the votes of the temporal lords. And he 
told the bishops, they must stick to him, and to his 
prerogative, as they would expect that he should 
stick to them, if they came to be pushed at. By 
iJbis means they were exposed to the popular fury. 
46l«-,: Hot people began every where to censure them, 
heat raised ^s a Set of men that for their own ends, and for 
dergy! ^ '^ Gvery punctilio that they pretended to, would expose 
the nation and the protestant religion to ruin. And 
in revenge for this, many began to declare openly in 
favour of the nonconformists : and upon this the 
nonconformists behaved themselves very indecently. 
For, though many of the more moderate of the 
clergy were trying if an advantage might be taken, 
from the ill state we were in, to heal those breaches 
that were among us, they on their part fell very se- 
verely upon the body of the clergy. The act that 
restrained the press was to last only to the end of 
the first session of the next parliament that should 
meet after that was dissolved. So now, upon the 
end of the session, the act not being revived, the 
press was open : and it became very licentious, both 
against the court and the clergy. And in this the 


nonconformists had so great a hand, that the bishops 1679. 
and clergy, apprehending that a rebellion, and with 
it the pulling the church to pieces, was designed, set 
themselves on the other hand to write against the 
late times, and to draw a parallel between the pre- 
sent times and them : which was not decently 
enough managed by those who undertook the argu- 
ment, and who were believed to be set on, and paid 
by the court for it. The chief manager of aU thoseTheocca- 

• • • -i-» T »-r< sions that 

angry writings was one sir Roger L Ji<strange », a fomented 
man who had lived in all the late times, and was 
furnished with many passages, and an unexhausted 
copiousness in writing: so that for four years he 
published three or four sheets a week under the 
title of the Observator, all tending to defame the 
contrary party, and to make the clergy apprehend 

^hat their ruin was designed. This had all the suc- 
cess he could have wished, as it drew considerable 
sums that were raised to acknowledge the service he 
did. Upon this the greater part of the clergy, who 
were already much prejudiced against that party, 

'Jbeing now both sharpened and furnished by these 
papers, delivered themselves up to much heat and 
indiscretion, which was vented both in their pulpits 
and common conversation, and most particularly, at 
the elections of parliament men : and this drew 
much hatred and censure upon them. They seemed 

' now to lay down all fears and apprehensions of po- 
pery : and nothing was so common in their mouths 
as the year forty-one, in which the late wars begun, 
and which seemed now to be near the being acted 
over again. Both city and country were full of 

8 A superficial meddling coxcomb. S. 

r 2 


1679. many indecencies that broke out on this occasion. 

But, as there were too many of the clergy whom the ■ 
462 heat of their tempers, and the hope of preferment j 
drove to such extravagancies, so there were still 
many worthy and eminent men among them, whose 
lives and labours did in a great measure rescue the 
church from those reproaches that the foUies of 
others drew upon it. Such were, besides those whom 
I have often named, Tennison, Sharp, Patrick, Sher- 
lock, Fowler, Scot, Calamy, Claget, Cudworth, two 
Mores, Williams, and many others, whom, though I 
knew not so particularly as to give all their charac- I 
ters, yet they deserved a high one ; and were indeed 
an honour, both to the church, and to the age in 
which they lived. 
Argnments I rctum from this diffrcssiou to ffive an account 

for and ° ^ . 

against of the argumcuts by which that debate concerning 
voting in^* the bishops voting in preliminaries was maintained. 
minJries in ^^ ^^^ ^^^^> *^^ bishops wcrc ouc of thrcc estates of 

trials of which the parliament was composed, and that there- 
treason. ^ ^ 

fore they ought to have a share in all parliamentary 
matters: that as the temporal lords transmitted 
their honours and fees to their heirs, so the bishops 
did transmit theirs to their successors : and they sat 
in parliament, both as they were the prelates of the 
church, and barons of the realm : but in the time of 
popery, when they had a mind to withdraw them- 
selves whoUy from the king's courts, and resolved to 
form themselves into a state apart, upon this at- 
tempt of theirs, our kings would not dispense with 
their attendance : and then several regulations were 
made, chiefly the famed ones at Clarendon ; not so 
much intended as restraints on them in the use of 
their rights as they were barons, as obligations on 


them to perform all but those that in compliance loyg. 
with their desii'es were then excepted : the clergy, 
who had a mind to be excused from all parliament- 
ary attendance, obtained leave to withdraw in judg- 
ments of life and death, as unbecoming their profes- 
sion, and contrary to their canons. Princes were 
the more inclinable to this, because bishops might 
be more apt to lean to the merciful side : and the 
judgments of parliament in that time were com- 
monly in favour of the crown against the barons : so 
the bishops had leave given them to withdraw from 
these : but they had a right to name a proxy for the 
clergy, or to protest for saving their rights in all 
other points as peers : so that this was rather a con- 
cession in their favour, than a restraint imposed on 
them : and they did it on design to get out of these 
courts as much as they could : at the reformation all 
such practices as were contrary to the king's pre- 
rogative were condemned : so it was said, that the 
king having a right by his prerogative to demand 463 
justice in parliament against such as he should ac- 
cuse there, none of the peers could be excused from 
that by any of the constitutions made in the time of 
jwpery, which were all condemned at the reforma- 
tion : the protestation they made in their asking 
leave to withdraw, shewed it was a voluntary act of 
theirs, and not imposed on them by the law of par- 
liament : the words of the article of Clai-endon 
seemed to import, that they might sit during the 
trial, till it came to the final judgment and sentence 
of life or limb ; and by consequence, that they might 
vote in the preliminaries ^. 

^ (" The determination of " earl of Danby's case, which 
" the house of lords in the " hath been ever since adliered 

P 3 


1679. ^ the other hand it was argued, that bishops 
could not judge the temporal lords as their peers: 
for if they were to be tried for high treason, they 
were to be judged only by a jury of commoners :• 
and since their honour was not hereditary, they 
could not be the peers of those whose blood was dig- 
nified : and therefore, though they were a part of 
that house with relation to the legislature and judi- 
cature, yet the difference between a personal and 
hereditary peerage made that they could not be the 
judges of the temporal lords, as not being to be tried 
by them : the custom of parliament was the law of 
parliament : and since they had never judged in 
these cases, they could not pretend to it : their pro- 
testation was only in bar to the lords doing any 
thing besides the trial during the time that they 
were withdrawn : the words of the article of Claren- 
don must relate to the whole trial as one compli- 
cated thing, though it might run out into many 
branches : and since the final sentence did often 
turn upon the preliminaries, the voting in these was 
upon the matter the voting in the final sentence : 
whatever might be the first inducements to frame 
those articles of the clergy, which at this distance 
must be dark and uncertain, yet the laws and prac- 
tice pursuant to them were stiU in force : by the act 
of Henry the ^hth it was provided, that, till a new 
body of canon law should be formed, that which 
was then received should be still in force, unless it 
was contrary to the king's prerogative, or the law of 

" to, is consonant to these " court proceeds to the vote of 

" constitutions of Clarendon, " guilty or not guilty." Black- 

" That the lords spiritual have stone's' Commentaries, book iv. 

"a right to stay and sit in ch. 19. p. 264.) 
"Court in capital cases, till the 


the land : and it was a remote and forced inference 1679. 
to pretend that the prerogative was concerned in 
this matter. 

Thus the point was argued on both sides. Dr. st.iiingfleet 
Stillingfleet gave upon this occasion a great proof of Jhii point, 
his being able to make himself the master of any 
argument which he undertook : for after the law- 
yers and others, conversant in parliament records, in 
particular the lord Hollis, who undertook the argu- 
ment with great vehemence, had writ many books 
about it, he published a treatise that discovered 
more skill and exactness in judging those matters 464 
than all that had gone before him. And indeed he 
put an end to the controversy in the opinion of all 
impartial men. He proved the right that the bi- 
shops had to vote in those preliminaries, beyond 
contradiction in my opinion, both from our records 
and from our constitution '. But now, in the inter- 
val of parliament, other matters come to be related. 

The king upon the prorogation of the parliament 'f''et"«' of 

° ^ r & XT five Jesuits. 

became sullen and thoughtful: he saw, he had to 
do with a strange sort of people, that could neither 

• By the great charter, people. D. (It is certain, that 
(which is the undeniable con- the bishops were anciently 
stitution of England,) every called peers j and the meaning 
man is to be tried for his life of the term peer of England, is 
by his peers ; the bishops, be- by no means uncertain, but 
fore the reformation, pretended places those to whom it is as- 
they were exempt from any signed, on a level with the no- 
trial by laymen ; since the re- bility in general. It does not 
formation, they have always follow, because it has hap- 
been tried by a jury of com- pened, that their privileges are 
moners ; which puts it out of not of equal extent with those 
dispute who are their peers, of the temporal nobility, that 
and consequently whose peers the bishops are not peers of 
they are. And are, in all cases the realm, as they are denomi- 
whatever, obliged to give their nated in an act of the 25th of 
testimony upon oath, like other Edward III.) 

P 4 


1679. be managed nor frightened : and from that time his 
temper was observed to change very visibly. He 
saw the necessity of calling another parliament, and 
of preparing matters in order to it : therefore the 
prosecution of the plot was still carried on. So five 
of the Jesuits that had been accused of it were 
brought to their trial : they were Whitebread their 
provincial, Fenwick, Harcourt, Govan, and Turner. 
Oates repeated against them his former evidence : 
and they prepared a great defence against it : for 
sixteen persons came over from their house at St. 
Omers', who testified that Oates had staid among 
them all the while from December seventy-seven till 
June seventy-eight ; so that he could not possibly be 
at London in the April between at those consulta- 
tions, as he had sworn. They remembered this the 
more particularly, because he sat at the table by 
himself in the refectory, which made his being there 
to be the more observed ; for as he was not mixed 
with the scholars, so neither was he admitted to the 
Jesuits' table. They said, he was among them every 
day, except one or two in which he was in the infir- 
mary : they also testified, that some of those who he 
swore came over with him into England in April 
had staid all that summer in Flanders. In opposi- 
tion to this, Oates had found out seven or eight per- 
sons who deposed that they saw him in England 
about the beginning of May; and that he being 
known formerly to them in a clergyman's habit, 
they had observed him so much the more by reason 
of that change of habit. 'SVith one of these he 
dined ; and he had much discourse with him about 
his travels. An old Dominican friar, who was still 
of that church and order, swore also that he saw 


him, and spoke frequently with him at that time: 1679. 
by this the credit of the St. Omers' scholai's was 
quite blasted. There was no reason to mistrust 
those who had no interest in the matter, and swore 
that they saw Oates about that time ; whereas the 
evidence given by scholars bred in the Jesuits' col- 
lege, when it was to save some of their order, was 
liable to a very just suspicion. Bedlow now swore 
against them all, not upon hearsay as before, but on 465 
his own knowledge ; and no regard was had to his 
former oath mentioned in Ireland's trial. Dugdale 
did likewise swear against some of them : one part 
of his evidence seemed scarce credible. He swore, 
that Whitebread did in a letter that was directed to 
himself, though intended for F. Evers, and that came 
to him by the common post, and was signed by 
Whitebread, desire him to find out men proper to • 
be made use of in killing the king, of what quality 
soever they might be. This did not look like the 
cunning of Jesuits, in an age in which all people 
made use either of ciphers or of some disguised 
cant. But the overthrowing the St. Omers' evidence 
was now such an additional load on the Jesuits, that 
the jury came quickly to a verdict; and they were 
condemned. At their execution they did with the 
greatest solemnity, and the deepest imprecations pos- 
sible, deny the whole evidence upon which they were 
condemned : and protested, that they held no opin- 
ions either of the lawfulness of assassinating princes, 
or of the pope's power of deposing them, and that 
they counted all equivocation odious and sinful. All 
their speeches were very full of these heads. Go- 
van's was much laboured, and too rhetorical. A very 
zealous protestant, that went oft to see them in pri- 


1679. son, told me, that they behaved themselves with great 
decency, and with all the appearances both of inno- 
cence and devotion, 
i^iighoni's Langhom, the lawyer, was tried next : he made 
use of the St. Omers' scholars : but their evidence 
seemed to be so baffled, that it served him in no 
stead. He insisted next on some contradictions in 
the several depositions that Oates had given at se- 
veral trials : but he had no other evidence of that 
besides the printed trials, which was no proof in 
law. The judges said upon this, (that which is per- 
haps good in law, but yet does not satisfy a man's 
mind,) that great difference was to be made between 
a narrative upon oath, and an evidence given in 
court. If a man was false in any one oath, there 
seemed to be just reason to set him aside, as no 
good witness. Langhom likewise urged this, that it 
was six weeks after Oates's first discovery before he 
named him : whereas, if the commissions had been 
lodged with him, he ought to have been seized on 
and searched first of all. Bedlow swore, he saw him 
enter some of Coleman's treasonable letters in a re- 
gister, in which express mention was made of kill- 
ing the king. He shewed the improbability of this, 
that a man of his business could be set to register 
letters. Yet aU was of no use to him ; for he was 
cast. Great pains was taken to persuade him to 
466 discover all he knew; and his execution was de- 
layed for some weeks, in hopes that somewhat might 
be drawn from him. He offered a discovery of the 
estates and stock that the Jesuits had in England, 
the secret of which was lodged with him : but he 
protested, that he could make no other discovery; 
and persisted in this to his death. He spent the 


time, in which his execution was respited, in writ- 1679. 
ing some very devout and well composed medita- And death, 
tions. He was in all respects a very extraordinary 
man : he was learned, and honest in his profession ; 
but was out of measure bigoted in his religion. He 
died with great constancy. 

These executions, with the denials of all that suf- 
fered, made great impressions on many. Several 
books were writ, to shew that lying for a good end 
was not only thought lawful among them, but had 
been often practised, particularly by some of those 
who died for the gunpowder treason, denying those 
very things which were afterwards not only fully 
proved, but confessed by the persons concerned in 
them : yet the behaviour and last words of those 
who suffered made impressions which no books could 
carry off. 

Some months after this one Serjeant, a seculai* 
priest, who had been always in ill terms with the 
Jesuits, and was a zealous papist in his own way, 
appeared before the council upon security given him ; 
and he averred, that Govan, the Jesuit, who died 
protesting he had never thought it lawful to murder 
kings, but had always detested it, had at his last 
being in Flanders said to a very devout person, from 
whom Serjeant had it, that he thought the queen 
might lawfully take away the king's life for the in- 
juries he had done her, but much more because he 
was a heretic. Upon that Serjeant run out into 
many particulars, to shew how little credit was due 
to the protestations made by Jesuits even at their 
death. This gave some credit to the tenderest part 
of Oates's evidence with relation to the queen. It 
shewed, that the trying to do it by her means had 


1679. been thought of by them. All this was only evi- 
~' dence from second hand: so it signified little. Ser- 

jeant was much blamed for it by all his own side. 
He had the reputation of a sincere and good, but of 
an indiscreet, man K The executions were generally 
imputed to lord Shaftsbury, who drove them on in 
hopes that some one or other, to have saved him- 
self, would have accused the duke. But by these 
the credit of the witnesses, and of the whole plot, 
was sinking apace. The building so much, and 
shedding so much blood, upon the weakest part of 
it, which was the credit of the witnesses, raised a 
467 general prejudice against it all; and took away the 
force of that, which was certainly true, that the 
whole party had been contriving a change of reli- ; 
gion by a foreign assistance, so that it made not im- 
pression enough, but went off too fast. It was like 
the letting blood, (as one observed,) which abates a 
fever. Every execution, like a new bleeding, abated 
the heat that the nation was in ; and threw us into a 
cold deadness, which was like to prove fatal to us. 
wakeman's Wakcman's trial came on next. Gates swore, he 

trial. . ' 

saw him write a biU to Ashby the Jesuit, by which 
he knew his hand : and he saw another letter of his 
writ in the same hand, in which he directed Ashby, * 
who was then going to the Bath, to use a milk diet, 
and to be pumped at the Bath ; and that in that let- 
ter he mentioned his zeal in the design of killing 
the king. He next repeated all the story he had 
sworn against the queen : which he brought only to 
make it probable that Wakeman, who was her phy- 

^ (There somewhere exists writer amongst the Romanists, 

an account of the dealings of an opponent of Hammond^ 

the prosecutors with him. He Bramhall, and Tillotson.) 
was an eminent controversial 


sician, was in it. To all this Wakeman objected, 1679. 
that at first Oates accused him only upon hearsay, 
and did solemnly protest he knew nothing against 
him: which was fully made out. So he said, all 
that Oates now swore against him must be a forgery 
not thought of at that time. He also proved by his 
own servant, and by the apothecary at the Bath, 
that Ashby's paper was not writ, but only dictated 
by him : for he happened to be very weary when he 
came for it, and his man wrote it out : and that of 
the milk diet was a plain indication of an ill laid 
forgery, since it was known that nothing was held 
more inconsistent with the Bath water than milk. 
Bedlow swore against him, that he saw him receive 
a bill of 2000/. from Harcourt in part of a greater 
sum ; and that Wakeman told him afterwards that 
he had received the money ; and that Harcourt told 
him for what end it was given, for they intended 
the king should be killed, either by those they sent 
to Windsor, or by Wakeman's means : and if all 
other ways failed, they would take him off at New- 
market. Bedlow in the first giving his evidence 
deposed, that this was said by Harcourt when Wake- 
man was gone out of the room. But observing, by 
the questions that were put him, that this would 
not affect Wakeman, he swore afterwards, that he 
said it likewise in his hearing. Wakeman had no- 
thing to set against aU this, but that it seemed im- 
possible that he could trust himself in such matters 
to such a person : and if Oates was set aside, he was 
but one witness. Three other Benedictine priests were 
tried with Wakeman. Oates swore, that they were 
in the plot of killing the king ; that one of them, 
being their superior, had engaged to give 6000/. to- 


1679. wards the carrying it on. Bedlow swore somewhat 
T^ cii'cumstantial to the same purpose against two of 
them : but that did not rise up to be treason : and 
he had nothing to charge the third with. They 
proved, that another person had been their superior 
for several years; and that Gates was never once 
suffered to come within their house, which all their 
servants deposed. And they also proved, that when 
Gates came into their house the night after he made 
his discovery, and took Pickering out of his bed, 
and saw them, he said, he had nothing to lay to 
their charge. They urged many other things to 
destroy the credit of the witnesses : and one of them 
made a long declamation, in a high bombast strain, 
to shew what credit was due to the speeches of 
dying men. The eloquence was so forced and child- 
' ish, that this did them more hurt than good. Scroggs 
summed up the evidence very favourably for the 
prisoners, far contrary to his former practice. The 
-truth is, that this was looked on as the queen's trial. 
He was ac- as wcll as Wakcmau's. The prisoners were acquit- 
^"' * ' ted : and now the witnesses saw they were blasted. 
• And they were enraged upon it ; which they vented 
with much spite upon Scroggs. And there was in 
him matter enough to work on for such foul mouth- 
ed people as they were. The queen got a man of 
great quality to be sent over ambassador from Por- 
tugal, not knowing how much she might stand in 
need of such a protection. He went next day with 
great state to thank Scroggs for his behaviour in 
this trial. If he meant well in this compliment, it 
was very unadvisedly done : for the chief justice 
was exposed to much censure by it. And therefore 
some thought it was a shew of civility done on de- 


sign to ruin him. For, how well pleased soever the 1679. 
papists were with the success of this trial, and with 
Scroggs's management, yet they could not be sup- 
posed to be so satisfied with him, as to forgive his 
behaviour in the former trials, which had been very 
indecently partial and violent. 

It was now debated in council whether the parlia- Debate* 
ment, now prorogued, should be dissolved or not.sou'ingthe 
The king prevailed on the lords of Essex and HaU- p"'"'*'"'"*' 
fax to be for a dissolution, promising to call another 
parliament next winter '. Almost all the new coun- 
sellors were against the dissolution. They said, the 
crown had never gained any thing by dissolving a 
parliament in anger : the same men would probably 
be chosen again, while all that were thought favour- 
able to the court would be blasted, and for the most 
part set aside. The new men thus chosen, being 
fretted by a dissolution, and put to the charge and 
trouble of a new election, they thought the next par- 469 
liament would be more uneasy to the king than this 
if continued. Lord Essex and Halifax on the other 
hand argued, that since the king was fixed in his 
resolutions, both with relation to the exclusion and 
to the lord Danby's pardon, his parliament had en- 
gaged so far in both these, that they could not think 

' I find by the duke's letters, tinued : for in one he says, " it 

he was pleased with the disso- " is strange his majesty has not 

lutlon, but not with the so " written to me, neither in an- 

speedy calling of another, which " swer to what I wrote by Gra- 

he said was only two months " ham, nor now upon breaking 

delay, and was giving them so " the parliament. I am not 

much time to concert their " used like a brother nor a 

measures better against their " friend. Press to have some 

next meeting; for he had little " mark of displeasure shewn to 

hopes a new parliament would " Armstrong ; if that be not 

differ much from the last. But " done, I know what I am to 

his jealousies of the king con- " expect." D. 


1679. tliat these would be let fall: whereas a new parlia- 
ment, though composed of the same members, not 
being yet engaged, might be persuaded to take other 
methods. The king followed this advice, which he 
had directed himself: two or three days after, lord 
Halifax was made an earl, which was called the re- 
ward of his good counsel. And now the hatred be- 
tween the earl of Shaftsbury and him broke out into 
many violent and indecent instances. On lord Shafts- 
bury's side more anger appeared, and more contempt 
on lord Halifax's. Lord Essex was a softer man, 
and bore the censure of the party more mildly : he 
saw how he was cried out on for his last advice : 
but as he was not apt to be much heated, so all he 
said to me upon it was, that he knew he was on a 
good bottom, and that good intentions would disco- 
ver themselves, and be justified by all in conclusion. 
The affairs I now put a stop iu the further relation of affairs 

of Scotland. . t^ , , . 

in Ji<ngland, to give an account of what passed m 
Scotland. The party against duke Lauderdale had 
lost all hopes, seeing how affairs were carried in the 
last convention of estates : but they began to take 
heart upon this great turn in England. The duke 
was sent away, and the lord Danby was in the 
tower, who were that duke's chief supports : and 
when the new council was settled, duke Hamilton 
and many others were encouraged to come up and 
accuse him. The truth was, the king found his 
memory was failing him ; and so he resolved to let 
him fall gently, and bring all Scotish affairs into 
the duke of Monmouth's hands. The Scotish lords 
were desired, not only by the king, but by the new 
ministers, to put the heads of their charge against 
duke Lauderdale in writing ; and the king promised 


to hear lawyers on both sides, and that the earls of 1679, 
Essex and Halifax should be present at the hearing. " 

Mackenzie was sent for, being the king's advocate, 
to defend the administration ; and Lockhart and 
Cunningham were to argue against it. The last of 
these had not indeed Lockhart's quickness, nor his 
talent in speaking ; but he was a learned and judi- 
cious man, and had the most universal, and indeed 
the most deserved reputation for integrity and vir- 
tue of any man, not only of his own profession, but 
of the whole nation. The hearing came on as was 470 
promised ; and it was made out beyond the possibi- 
lity of an answer, that the giving commissions to an 
army to live on free quarters in a quiet time was 
against the whole constitution, as well as the ex- 
press laws of that kingdom ; and that it was never 
done but in an enemy's country, or to suppress a 
rebellion : they shewed likewise, how unjust and il- 
legal all the other parts of his administration were. 
The earls of Essex and Halifax told me every thing 
was made out fully ; Mackenzie having nothing to 
shelter himself in, but that flourish in the act against 
field conventicles, in which they were called the ren- 
dezvous of rebellion ; from which he inferred, that 
the country where these had been frequent was in 
a state of rebellion. Kings naturally love to hear 
prerogative magnified : yet on this occasion the king 
had nothing to say in defence of the administration. 
But when May, the master of the privy purse, asked 
him in his familiar way what he thought now of his 
Lauderdale, he answered, as May himself told me, 
that they had objected many damned things that he 
had done against them, but there was nothing ob- 
jected that was against his service. Such are the 



1679. notions that many kings diink in, by which they set 
up an interest for themselves in opposition to the in- 
terest of the people : and as soon as the people ob- 
serve that, which they will do sooner or later, then 
they will naturally mind their own interest, and set 
it up as much in opposition to the prince : and in 
this contest the people will grow always too hard 
for the prince, unless he is able to subdue and govern 
them by an army. The duke of Monmouth was be- 
ginning to form a scheme of a ministry : but now 
the government in Scotland was so remiss, that the 
people apprehended they might run into all sort of 
confusion. They heard that England was in such 
distractions that they needed fear no force from 
thence. Duke Lauderdale's party was losing heart, 
and were fearing such a new model there, as was set 
up here in England. All this set those mad people 
that had run about with the field conventicles into a 
phrensy : they drew together in great bodies : some 
parties of the troops came to disperse them, but 
found them both so resolute and so strong, that they 
did not think fit to engage them : sometimes they 
fired on one another, and some were killed of both 
The Arch- Whcu a party of furious men were riding through 
Andrew's is ^ Hioor ncap St. Andrew's, they saw the archbishop's 
murdered. ^^Q^ch appear : he was coming from a council day, 
471 and was driving home : he had sent some of his ser- 
vants home before him, to let them know he was 
coming, and others he had sent off on compliments ; 
so that there was no horsemen about the coach. 
They seeing this, concluded, according to their fran- 
tic enthusiastic notions, that God had now delivered 
up their greatest enemy into their hands : seven of 



them made up to the coach, while the rest were as 167^. 

scouts riding all about the moor. One of them fired 

a pistol at him, which burnt his coat and gown, but 
did not go into his body : upon this they fancied he 
had a magical secret to secure him against a shot ; 
and they drew him out of his coach, and murdered 
him barbarously, repeating their strokes till they were 
sure he was quite dead : and so they got clear off, no 
body happening to go cross the moor all the while "'. 
This was the dismal end of that unhappy man : it 
struck all people with horror, and softened his ene- 
mies into some tenderness" : so that his memory was 
treated with decency by those who had very little 
respect for him during his life. 

A week after that, there was a great field conven- a rebellion 
tide held within ten miles of Glasgow : a body of'" 
the guards engaged with them, and they made such 

*" (According to the apologe- 
tical account of one of the as- 
snssins, given in a book called 
The Memoirs of the Church of 
Scotland, Lond. 1717. p. 207. 
they had resolved to kill a gen- 
tleman, one of their enemies, 
and had been lying in ambush 
for that purpose, when they 
were informed of the arch- 
bishop's being on the road. 
But the accounts published at 
the very time report, that 
inquiries had been previously 
made by them after him. Some 
servants were attending; for in 
the above apology, and in a nar- 
rative of this murder affixed to 
the life of the archbishop, print- 
ed in 1723, they are expressly 
said to have been disarmed by 
the ruffians. They rifled the 
pockets of the archbishop and 

of his daughter, and wounded 
the latter whilst she was cling- 
ing to her father. Such were the 
dreadful efiects of fanaticism ir- 
ritated by persecution, at a time 
when the principles of religious 
liberty were little understood, 
and less acted upon.) 

" (At the time of the arch- 
bishop's death, in order to ex- 
onerate the covenanters from 
the guilt of it, their friends in 
England gave out, that he died 
by the hands of his private ene- 
mies, whom he had grossly in- 
jured ; amongst whom, they 
said, was his steward. See Al- 
gernon Sydney's Letters to Mr. 
H. Savile, pp. 65. 72. A rela- 
tion also, conformable to these 
particulars, is printed in the first 
volumeofCogan's Collection of 
Tracts, p. 385.) 

Q 2 


1679- vigorous resistance, that the guards, having lost 
' thirty of their number, were forced to run for it" : 
so the conventicle formed itself into a body, and 
marched to Glasgow : the person that led them had 
been bred by me, while I lived at Glasgow, being the 
younger son of Sir Tho. Hamilton that had married 
my sister, but by a former wife: he was then a lively, 
hopeful young man : but getting into that company, 
and into their notions, he became a crack-brained 
enthusiast ; [and under the shew of a hero, was an 
ignominious coward.] Duke Lauderdale and his 
party published every where that this rebellion was 
headed by a nephew of mine, whom I had prepared 
for such a work while he was in my hands : their 
numbers were so magnified, that a company or two 
which lay at Glasgow retired in all haste, and left 
the town to them, though they were then not above 
four or five hundred; and these were so ill armed, 
and so ill commanded, that a troop of horse could 
have easily dispersed them. The councU at Edin- 
burgh sent the earl of Linlithgow against them with 
a thousand foot, two hundred horse, and two hun- 
dred dragoons : a force much greater than was ne- 
cessary for making head against such a rabble. He 
marched till he came within ten miles of them ; and 
then he pretended he had intelligence that they were 
above eight thousand strong ; so he marched back ; 
for he said, it was the venturing the whole force the 
472 king had upon too great an inequality : he could 
never prove that he had any such intelligence : some 
imputed this to his fear : others thought, that being 
much engaged with duke Lauderdale, he did this on 
purpose to give them time to increase their num- 

" For what ? S. 


bers: and thought their madness would be the best ^^79- 

justification of all the violences that had been com- 
mitted in duke Lauderdale's administration. Thus 
the country was left in their hands : and if there had 
been any designs or preparations made formerly for 
a rebellion, now they had time enough to run to- 
gether, and to form themselves: but it appeared that 
there had been no such designs, by this, that none 
came into it but those desperate intercommoned 
men, who were as it were hunted from their houses 
into all those extravagances that men may fall in, 
who wander about inflaming one another, and are 
heated in it with false notions of religion. The re- 
bels, having the country left to their discretion, fan- 
cied that their numbers would quickly increase: and 
they set out a sort of manifesto, complaining of the 
oppressions they lay under, asserting the obligation 
of the covenant : and they concluded it with the de- 
mand of a free parliament. \VTien the news of this 
came to court, duke Lauderdale said, it was the ef- 
fect of the encouragement that they had from the 
king's hearkening to their complaints : whereas all 
indifferent men thought it was rather to be imputed 
to his insolence and tyranny. 

The king resolved to lose no time : so he sent the Monmouth 
duke of Monmouth down post, with full powers t0to"upjm* 
command in chief: and directions were sent to some'** 
troops that lay in the north of England to be ready 
to march upon his orders. Duke Lauderdale ap- 
prehended that those in arms would presently sub- 
mit to the duke of Monmouth, if there was but time 
given for proper instruments to go among them, and 
that then they would pretend they had been forced 
into that rising by the violence of the government : 

Q 3 


1679. so he got the king to send positive orders after him, 
that he should not treat with them, but fall on them 
immediately : yet he marched so slowly that they 
had time enough given them to dispose them to a 
submission. They fixed at Hamilton, near which 
there is a bridge on Glide, which it was believed 
they intended to defend : but they took no care of 
it. They sent some to treat with the duke of Mon- 
mouth : he answered, that if they would submit to 
the king's mercy, and lay down their arms, he would 
interpose for their pardon, but that he would not 
treat with them as long as they were in arms : and 
473 some were beginning to press their rendering them- 
selves at discretion : they had neither the grace to 
submit, nor the sense to march away, nor the cou- 
rage to fight it out : but suffered the duke of Mon- 
mouth to make himself master of the bridge. They 
They were wcrc then four thousaud men : but few of them 
broken. wcrc wcll armed : if they had charged those that 
came first over the bridge, they might have had 
some advantage : but they looked on like men 
that had lost both sense and courage : and upon 
the first charge they threw down their arms, and 
ran away : there were between two or three hun- 
dred killed, and twelve hundred taken prisoners. 
The duke of Monmouth stopped the execution that 
his men were making as soon as he could, and saved 
the prisoners ; for some moved, that they should be 
all kiUed upon the spot. Yet this was afterwards 
objected to him as a neglect of the king's service, 
and as a courting the people : the duke of York 
talked of it in that strain : and the king himself 
said to him, that if he had been there, they should 
not have had the trouble of prisoners : he answered. 


he could not kill men in cold blood ; that was work 1 67g. 
only for butchers. Duke Lauderdale's creatures 
pressed the keeping the army some time in that 
country, on design to have eat it up : but the duke 
of Monmouth sent home the militia, and put the 
troops under discipline : so that all that country was 
sensible that he had preserved them from ruin : 
the very fanatical party confessed that he treated 
them as gently as possible, considering their mad- 
ness : he came back to court as soon as he had set- 
tled matters, and moved the king to gi-ant an in- 
demnity for what was past, and a liberty to hold 
meetings under the king's licence or connivance : he 
shewed the king that all this madness of field con- 
venticles flowed only from the severity against those 
that were held within doors p. Duke Lauderdale 
drew the indemnity in such a manner, that it car- 
ried in some clauses of it a full pardon to himself 
and all his party ; but he clogged it much with re- 
lation to those for whom it was granted. All gen- 
tlemen, preachers, and officers were excepted out of 
it ; so that the favour of it was much limited ; two 
of their preachers were hanged, but the other pri- 
soners were let go upon their signing a bond for 
keeping the peace : two hundred of them were sent 
to Virginia, but they were all cast away at sea. 
Thus ended this tumultuary rebellion, which went 
by the name of Bothwell-bridge, where the action 
was. The king soon after sent down orders for 
allowing meeting-houses : but the duke of Mon- 

P The duke, in a letter from " mouth gott for the phanatica 

Edinburgh, says, " I find the " here, after they had been 

" generality of the best men " beaten, and say it will encou- 

" here much troubled at the " rage them to another rcbel- 

*' indulgence the dukeof Mon- " lion." D. 

Q 4 


1679. mouth's interest sunk so soon after this, that these 

Jr^ were scarce opened when they were shut up again : 

their enemies said, this looked like a rewarding 

them for their rebellion. 

The king An accidcut happened soon after this, that put 

taken ill, . . „ . , i i 

and the the whole nation in a fright, and produced very 
to" court." great effects : the king was taken ill at Windsor of 
an intermitting fever : the fits were so long and so 
severe, that the physicians apprehended he was in 
danger : upon which he ordered the duke to be sent 
for, but very secretly ; for it was communicated to 
none but to the earls of Sunderland, Essex, and Ha- 
lifax. The duke made all possible haste, and came 
in disguise through Calais, as the quicker passage : 
but the danger was over before he came : the fits 
did not return after the king took quinquina, called 
in England the Jesuits' powder, (or bark :) as he 
recovered, it was moved that the duke should be 
again sent beyond sea : he had no mind to it : but 
when the king was positive in it, he moved that the 
duke of Monmouth should be put out of all com- 
mand, and likewise sent beyond sea. The duke of 
Monmouth's friends advised him to agree to this; 
for he might depend on it, that as soon as the par- 
liament met, an address would be made to the king 
for bringing him back, since his being thus divested 
of his commissions, and sent away at the duke's de- 
sire, would raise his interest in the nation. 
The many At this tiuic the partv that beffan to be made for 

false stories 1. •/ o 

spread to the dukc of York were endeavouring to blow mat- 

lousy. ters up into a flame every where : of which the earl 

of Essex gave me the following instance, by which 

it was easy to judge what sort of intelligence they 

were apt to give, and how they were possessing the 


king and his ministers with ill-gi'ounded fears : he i679- 
came once to London on some treasury business the 
day before the common hall was to meet in the city : 
so the spies that were employed to bring news from 
all corners came to him, and assured him that it 
was resolved next day to make use of the noise of 
that meeting, and to seize on the Tower, and do all 
such things as could be managed by a popular fury. 
The advertisements came to him from so many 
hands, that he was inclined to believe there was 
somewhat in it : some pressed him to send soldiers 
into the tower and to the other parts of the city. 
He would not take the alarm so hot, but he sent to 
the lieutenant of the tower to be on his guard ; and 
he ordered some companies to be drawn up in Co- 
vent Garden and in Lincoln's Inn Fields : and he 
had two hundred men ready, and barges prepared 
to carry them to the tower, if there should have 
l)een the least shadow of tumult : but he would not 
seem to fear a disorder too much, lest perhaps that 475 
might have produced one : yet after all the affright- 
ening stories that had been brought him, the next 
day passed over very calmly, it not appearing by 
the least circumstance that any thing was designed, 
besides the business for which the common hall was 
summoned. He often reflected on this matter : those 
mercenary spies are very officious, that they may 
deserve their pay ; and they shape their story to 
the tempers of those whom they serve : and to such 
creatures, and to their false intelligence, I imputed 
a great deal of the jealousy that I found the king 
possessed with. Both the dukes went now beyond 
sea : and that enmity which was more secret before, 
and was covered with a court civility, did now break 


1679- out open and barefaced 'J. But it seemed that the 
duke of York had prevailed with the king not to 
call the parliament that winter, in hope that the 
heat the nation was in would with the help of some 
time grow cooler, and that the party that began 
now to declare more openly for the right of succes- 
sion would gain ground. There was also a pre- 
tended discovery now ready to break out, which the 
duke might be made believe could carry off the plot 
from the papists, and cast it on the contrary party. 
A pretended Dangerficld, a subtle and dexterous man, who 
vered.caiied had gouc through all the shapes and practices of 

the meal- i • < • i n i • i 

tub plot, roguery, and m particular was a false comer, under- 
took now to coin a plot ^ for the ends of the papists. 
He was in gaol for debt, and was in an ill intrigue 
with one Cellier, a popish midwife, who had a great 
share of wit, and was abandoned to lewdness. She 
got him to be brought out of prison, and carried 
him to the countess of Powis, a zealous managing 
papist. He, after he had laid matters with her, as 

'1 The duke writes, in a letter " him, nor grew jealous of him : 

from Brussels, " I see his ma- " but after what I had said to 

" jesty has been much misin- " him upon that subject, of my 

" formed as to some things " reasons against it, and that I 

" concerning the duke of Mon- " told him then, freely, he was 

" mouth ; for lord chancellor " not to expect my friend- 

" Hyde never went about to " ship if ever he pretended to 

" put any jealousies into my " it, or had it; one cannot 

" head of my nephew : what " wonder if I was against any 

" he did about the patent was " thing that did increase his 

" only what any man that un- " power in military affairs, as his 

" derstood the law was obliged " being colonel of foot guards 

" to, and I do not remember " would have done, especially 

" he ever opened his mouth to " when I saw he used all little 

" me of it. And till he spake " arts by degrees to compass 

" to me himself, at Windsor, " his point of being general." 

" five or six years ago, of his D. 

" having a mind to be general, «■ Witty. S. 
" I never took any thing ill of 


will afterwards appear, got into all companies, and 1679. 

mixed with the hottest men of the town, and stu- 

died to engage others with himself to swear, that 
they had been invited to accept of commissions, and 
that a new form of government was to be set up, 
and that the king and the royal family were to be 
sent away. He was carried with this stor}% first to 
the duke, and then to the king, and had a weekly 
allowance of money, and was very kindly used by 
many of that side ; so that a whisper run about 
town, that some extraordinary thing would quickly 
break out : and he having some correspondence with 
one colonel Mansel, he made up a bundle of sedi- 
tious but ill contrived letters, and laid them in a 
dark corner of his room : and then some searchers 
were sent from the custom house to look for some 
forbidden goods, which they heard were in Mansel's 476 
chamber. There were no goods found : but as it 
was laid, they found that bundle of letters : and 
upon that a great noise was made of a discovery : 
but ujK)n inquiry it appeared the letters were coun- 
terfeited, and the forger of them was suspected ; so 
they searched into all Dangerfield's haunts, and in 
one of them they found a paper that contained the 
scheme of this whole fiction, which, because it was 
found in a meal-tub, came to be called the meal-tub 
plot. Dangerfield was upon that clapt up, and he 
soon after confessed how the whole matter was laid 
and managed : in which it is very probable he mixed 
much of his own invention with truth, for he was a 
profligate liar. This was a great disgrace to the 
popish party, and the king suffered much by the 
countenance he had given him ; the earls of Essex 


1679- and Halifax were set down in the scheme to be 
"' sworn against with the rest ^ 

Great jea. Upon this they pressed the king vehemently to 
the^iSig. caU a parliament immediately. But the king 
thought that if a parliament should meet while all 
men's spirits were sharpened by this new discovery, 
he would find them in worse temper than ever: 
when the king could not be prevailed on to do that, 
lord Essex left the treasury. The king was very 
uneasy at this. But lord Essex was firm in his re- 
solution not to meddle in that post more, since a 
parliament was not called : yet, at the king's earnest 
desire, he continued for some time to go to council. 
Lord Halifax fell iU, much from a vexation of mind : 
his spirits were oppressed, a deep melancholy seizing 
him : for a fortnight together I was once a day with 
him, and found then that he had deep (deeper) im- 
pressions of religion on him [than those who knew 
the rest of his life would have thought him capable 
of.] Some fooUsh people gave it out that he was 
mad : but I never knew him so near a state of true 
wisdom as he was at that time. He was much 
troubled at the king's forgetting his promise to hold 
a parliament that winter ; and expostulated severely 
upon it with some that were sent to him from the 
idng : he was offered to be made secretary of state, 
but he refused it. Some gave it out that he pre- 
tended to be lord lieutenant of Ireland, and was 
uneasy when that was denied him : but he said to 

* (But see North's Examen, the commons to the house of 

p. 256 — 271. This egregious lords, accused the duke of York, 

villain, Dangerfield, in the next of having proposed to him to 

year, just before the bill of ex- kill the king.) 
elusion was brought «p from 


me that it was offered him, and he had reftised it. 1679. 
He did not love, he said, a new scene, nor to dine 
with sound of trumpet and thirty-six dishes of meat 
on his table. He likewise saw that lord Essex had 
a mind to be again there ; and he was confident he 
was better fitted for it than he himself was. My 
being much with him at that time was reflected on : 477 
it was said, I had heightened his disaffection to the 
court : [and Hyde, made then a lord, objected it to 
me.] I was with him only as a divine. 

The court went on in their own pace: lord 
Tweedale being then at London moved the earl of 
Peterborough, that it would be more honourable, 
and more for the duke's interest, instead of living 
beyond sea, to go and live in Scotland. Lord Peter- 
borough went immediately with it to the king, who 
approved of it. So notice was given the duke: 
and he was appointed to meet the king at New- 
market in October. Lord Tweedale saw, that since 
the duke of Monmouth had lost his credit with the 
king, duke Lauderdale would again be continued in 
his posts; and that he would act over his former 
extravagances : whereas he reckoned that this would 
he checked by the duke's going to Scotland : and 
that he would study to make himself acceptable to 
that nation, and bring things among them into order 
and temper. The duke met the king at Newmarket, 
as it was ordered : but upon that the earl of Shafts- 
bury, who was yet president of the council, though 
he had quite lost all his interest in the king, called 
a council at Whitehall, and represented to them the 
danger the king was in by the duke's being so near 
him; and pressed the council to represent this to 
the king. But they did not agree to it : and upon 


1679. the king's coming to London he was turned out, 

and lord Roberts, made then earl of Radnor, was 

made lord president. 
Mon- The duke went to Scotland soon after : and upon 

dbgrace. that thc dukc of Monmouth grew impatient, Avhen 
he found he was stiU to be kept beyond sea. He 
begged the king's leave to return : but when he saw 
no hope of obtaining it, he came over without leave. 
The king upon that would not see him, and required 
him to go back ; on which his friends were divided. 
Some advised him to comply with the king's plea- 
sure : but he gave himself fatally up to the lord 
Shaftsbury's conduct, who put him on all the me- 
thods imaginable to make himself popular. He 
went round many parts of England, pretending it 
was for hunting and horse matches, many thousands 
coming together in most places to see him : so that 
this looked like the mustering up the force of the 
party : but it really weakened it : many grew jea- 
lous of the design, and fancied here was a new civil 
war to be raised. Upon this they joined in with the 
Petitions duke's party. Lord Shaftsbury set also on foot pe- 
li'ainent, titions for a pai'liament, in order to the securing the 
king's person and the protestant religion. These 
were carried about and signed in many places, not- 
478 withstanding the king set out a proclamation against 
them : upon that a set of counter-petitions was pro- 
moted by the court, expressing an abhoiTence of all 
seditious jjractices, and referring the time of calling 
a parliament wholly to the king. There were not 
such numbers that joined in the petitions for the 
parliament as had been expected : so this shewed 
rather the weakness than the strength of the party : 
and many well meaning men began to dislike those 


practices, and to apprehend that a change of govern- 1679. 
ment was designed. * 

Some made a reflection on that whole method of 
proceeding, which may deserve well to be remem- 
bered : in the intervals of parliament, men that 
complain of the government by keeping themselves 
in a sullen and quiet state, and avoiding cabals and 
public assembUes, grow thereby the stronger, and 
more capable to make a stand when a parUament 
comes : whereas by their forming of parties out of 
parliament, unless in order to the managing of elec- 
tions, they do both expose themselves to much dan- 
ger, and bring an ill character on their designs over 
the nation ; which naturally loves parliamentary 
cures, but is jealous of all other methods. 

The king was now wholly in the duke's interest, Great dis- 

- - , ' . . content on 

and resolved to pass that winter without a parha- aii sides, 
ment. Upon which the lords Russel and Cavendish, 
sir Henry Capel and Mr. Powel, four of the new 
counsellors, desired to be excused from their attend- 
ance in council. Several of those who were put in 
the admiralty and in other commissions, desired like- 
wise to be dismissed : with this the king was so 
highly offended, that he became more sullen and in- 
tractable than he had ever been before. 

The men that governed now were the earl ofcodoi- 
Sunderland, lord Hyde, and Godolphin : the last ofractlr.*^"" 
these was a younger brother of an ancient family in 
Cornwall, that had been bred about the king from a 
page, and was now considered as one of the ablest 
men that belonged to the court : he was the silent- 
est and modestest man that was perhaps ever bred 
in a court. He had a clear apprehension, and des- 
patched business with great method, and with so 


1679. much temper, that he had no personal enemies : but 
' his silence begot a jealousy, which has hung long 

upon him. His notions were for the court : but his 
incorrupt and sincere way of managing the concerns 
of the treasury created in all people a very high 
esteem for him. He loved gaming the most of any 
man of business I ever knew ; and gave one reason 
for it, because it delivered him from the obligation 
479 to talk much: he had true principles of religion' 
and virtue, and was free from aU vanity, and never 
heaped up wealth : so that all things being laid to- 
gether, he was one of the worthiest and wisest men 
that has been employed in our time " : and he has 
had much of the confidence of four of our succeed- 
ing princes ^. 

1680. In the spring of the year eighty the duke had 
leave to come to England ; and continued about the 
king till next winter, that (when) the parliament was 

An alliance to sit. Foreign affairs seemed to be forgot by our 

projected _^ , , 

against court. The pnnce of Orange had projected an alliance 


* Sir Thomas Dyke told me, this account of him.) 
in king James the second's * King Charles gave him a 

reign, Ellis, one of the four short character when he was 

popish bishops, told him, that page, which he maintained to 

lord Godolphin was in doubts, his life's end, of being never in 

and that there were masses the way, nor out of the way. 

said every day in the king's His great skill lay in finding 

chapel for his conversion : to out what were his prince's in- 

which he answered, " If he is clinations, which he was very 

" in doubt with you, he is out ready to comply with ; but had 

" of doubt with me." D. a very morose, haughty beha- 

'^ All this very partial to my viour to every body else, and 

knowledge. S. (Yet in the could disoblige people by his 

character of lord Godolphin looks, more than he could have 

drawn by Swift himself, in his done by any thing he could 

History of the Four last Years have said to them ; though his 

of queen Anne, p. 18, there is answers were commonly very 

nothing very inconsistent with short and shocking. D. ' 


against France: and most of the German princes 1680. 
were mucli disposed to come into it : for the French 
had set up a new court at Metz, in which many 
princes were, under the pretence of dependencies, 
and some old forgot or forged titles, judged to be- 
long to the new French conquests. This was a 
mean as well as a perfidious practice, in which the 
court of France raised much more jealousy and ha- 
tred against themselves, than could ever be balanced 
by such small accessions as were adjudged by that 
mock court. The earl of Sunderland entered into a 
particular confidence with the prince of Orange, 
which he managed by his uncle Mr. Sidney, who 
was sent envoy to Holland : the prince seemed con- 
fident, that if England would come heartily into it, 
a strong confederacy might then have been formed 
against France. Van Beuning was then in England : 
and he wrote to the town of Amsterdam, that they 
could not depend on the faith or assistance of Eng- 
land. He assured them the court was still in the 
French interest : he also looked on the jealousy be- 
tween the court and the country party as then so 
high, that he did not believe it possible to heal mat- 
ters so as to encourage the king to enter into any 
alliance that might draw on a war: for the king 
seemed to set that up for a maxim, that his going 
into a war was the putting himself into the hands of 
his parliament ; and was firmly resolved against it. 
Yet the project of a league was formed: and the 
king seemed inclined to go into it, as soon as mat- 
ters could be well adjusted at home. 

There was this year at Midsummer a new prac- The eiec- 
tice begun in the city of London, that produced very Sheriffs ^of* 
iU consequences. The city of London has by char- Lo'»<'«>n- 



1680. ter the shrivalry of Middlesex, as weU as of the 
city: and the two sheriffs were to be chosen on 
Midsummer day. But the common method had 
been for the lord mayor to name one of the sheriffs 
by drinking to him on a public occasion : and that 
480 nomination was commonly confirmed by the com- 
mon hall: and then they named the other sheriff. 
The truth was, the way in which the sheriffs lived 
made it a charge of about 5000/. a year: so they 
took little care about it, but only to find men that 
would bear the charge; which recommended them 
to be chosen aldermen upon the next vacancy, and 
to rise up according to their standing to the mayor- 
alty, which generally went in course to the senior 
alderman. When a person was set up to be sheriff 
that would not serve, he compounded the matter for 
400/. fine. All juries were returned by the sheriffs : 
but they commonly left that wholly in the hands of 
their under sheriffs : so it was now pretended that 
it was necessary to look a little more carefuUy after 
this matter. The under sheriffs were generally at- 
torneys, and might be easily brought under the 
management of the court : so it was proposed, that 
the sheriffs should be chosen with more care, not so 
much that they might keep good tables, as that they 
should return good juries. The person to whom the 
present mayor had drunk was set aside : and Bethel 
and Cornish were chosen sheriffs for the ensuing 
year. Bethel was a man of knowledge, and had 
writ a very judicious book of the interests of 
princes y: but as he was a known republican in 
principle, so he was a sullen and wilful man ; and 

y (The Interests of Princes and States. Lond. i68o. 8vo. anony- 


turned from the ordinary way of a sheriflf's living igso. 

into the extreme of sordidness, which was very un- 

acceptable to the body of the citizens, and proved a 
great prejudice to the party. Cornish, the other 
sheriff, was a plain, warm, honest man ; and lived 
very nobly all his year : the court was very jealous 
of this, and understood it to be done on design to 
pack juries : so that the party should be always safe, 
whatever they might engage in. It was said, that 
the king would not have common justice done him 
hereafter against any of them, how guilty soever. 
The setting up Bethel gave a great colour to this 
jealousy ; for it was said, he had expressed his ap- 
proving the late king's death in very indecent terms. 
These two persons had never before received the 
sacrament in the church, being independents: but 
they did it now to qualify themselves for this office, 
which gave great advantages against the whole par- 
ty : it was said, that the serving an end was a good 
resolver of all cases of conscience, and purged all 

Thus matters went on till the winter eighty, in 
which the king resolved to hold a session of parlia- 
ment. He sent the duke to Scotland a few days be- 
fore their meeting: and upon that the duchess of 481 
Portsmouth declared openly for the exclusion ; and 
so did lord Sunderland and Godolphin. Lord Sun- 
derland assured all people, that the king was re- 
solved to settle matters with his parliament on any 
terms, since the interest of England and the affairs 
of Europe made a league against France indispens- 
ably necessary at that time ; which could not be 
done without a good understanding at home. Lord 
Sunderland sent lord Arran for me : I declined thi* 

R 2 


1680. new acquaintance as much as I could : but it could 

not be avoided : he seemed then very zealous for a 

happy settlement: and this I owe him in justice, 

that though he went off from the measures he was 

in at that time, yet he stiU continued personally kind 

to my self: now the great point was, whether the 

limitations should be accepted, and treated about, or 

The bill of the exclusion be pursued. Lord Halifax assured 

again taken me, that any limitations whatsoever that should 

^^' leave the title of king to the duke, though it should 

be little more than a mere title, might be obtained 

of the king: but that he was positive and fixed 

against the exclusion. It is true, this was in a great 

measure imputed to his management, and that he 

had wrought the king up to it. 

The most specious handle for recommending the 
limitations was this : the duke declared openly 
against them : so if the king should have agreed to 
them, it must have occasioned a breach between 
him and the duke : and it seemed to be very desir- 
able to have them once fall out ; since, as soon as 
that was brought about, the king of his own accord 
and for his own security might be moved to promote 
the exclusion. The truth is, lord Halifax's hatred 
of the earl of Shaftsbury, and his vanity in desiring 
to have his own notion preferred, sharpened him at 
that time to much indecency in his whole deport- 
ment: but the party depended on the hopes that 
lady Portsmouth and lord Sunderland gave them : 
many meetings were appointed between lord Hali- 
fax and some leading men ; in which as he tried to 
divert them from the exclusion, so they studied to 
persuade him to it, both without effect. The ma- 
jority had engaged themselves to promote the ex- 


elusion; lord Russel moved it first in the house of i680. 
commons, and was seconded by Capel, Mountague, 
and Winnington : Jones came into the house a few 
days after this, and went with great zeal into it : 
Jenkins, now made secretary of state in Coventry's 
place, was the chief manager for the court. He 
was a man of an exemplary life, and considerably 
learned : but he was dull and slow : he was sus- 482 
pected of leaning to popery, though very unjustly : 
but he was set on every punctilio of the church of 
England to superstition, and was a great assertor of 
the divine right of monarchy, and was for carrying 
the prerogative high : he neither spoke nor writ 
well: but being so eminent for the most courtly 
qualifications, other matters were the more easily 
dispensed with. All his speeches and arguments 
against the exclusion were heard with indignation : 
so the bill was brought into the house. It was Passed by 
moved by those who opposed it, that the duke's moos, 
daughters might be named in it, as the next in the 
succession : but it was said, that was not necessary ; 
for since the duke was only personally disabled, as if 
he had been actually dead, that carried the succes- 
sion over to his daughters : yet this gave a jealousy, 
as if it was intended to keep that matter still unde- 
termined ; and that upon another occasion it might 
be pretended, that the disabling the duke to succeed 
did likewise disable him to derive that right to 
others, which was thus cut off in himself But 
though they would not name the duke's daughters, 
yet they sent such assurances to the prince of O- 
range, that nothing thus proposed could be to his 
prejudice ; that he believed them, and declared his 
desire, that the king would fully satisfy his parlia- 

R 3 


1680. ment : the States sent over memorials to the king, 
■ pressing him to consent to the exclusion. The 

prince did not openly appear in this : but it being 
managed by Fagel, it was understood that he ap- 
proved of it : and this created a hatred in the duke 
to him, which was never to be removed. Lord Sun- 
derland, by Sidney's means, engaged the States into 
it : and he fancied that it might have some effect. 

The bill of exclusion was quickly brought up to 
the lords. The earls of Essex and Shaftsbury ar- 
gued most for it : and the earl of Halifax was the 
champion on the other side : he gained great honour 
in the debate ; and had a visible superiority to lord 
Shaftsbury in the opinion of the whole house : and 
But re- that was to him triumph enough. In conclusion, 
thelordl the bill was thrown out upon the first reading: the 
country party brought it nearer an equahty '^ than 
was imagined they could do, considering the king's 
earnestness in it, and that the whole bench of the 
bishops was against it **. The commons were in- 

"^ 63 to 30. O. and Proceedings, reports, as 
^ Except three. See Echard. well as Echard, that the con- 
The three, it has been said, tents for its rejection were 63, 
were, Compton, Pearson, and and the not contents 30, the 
Lamplugh. qu. the Journal of bishops being all for rejecting 
the Lords as to those three bi- it except three. It is now 
shops being that day in the however practicable to correct 
house. They were of London, the above statement, which is 
Chester, and Exeter. O. (The admitted into general history, 
bishop of Chester, at that time that three of the bishops voted 
the most learned Dr. Pearson, for the exclusion of the duke 
is not in the number of those of York ; a list of those peers 
who were present or voted on who voted for the bill of ex- 
this occasion. Neither does it elusion having been lately found 
appear from the Journal of the by the head librarian of the 
House of Lords, who voted on Bodleian library, Mr. Bandinel, 
one side, or who on the other, among the Ormonde papers be- 
when the bill was rejected, queathed to the library by Carte 
But Chandler, in his History the historian. They are all 


flamed, when they saw the fate of their biU: they 168O. 
voted an address to the king to remove lord Halifax 
from his counsels and presence for ever : which was 
an unparliamentary thing ; since it was visible that 
it was for his arguing as he did in the house of 
lords, though they pretended it was for his advising 483 
the dissolution of the last parliament : but that was 
a thin disguise of their anger : yet without destroy- 
ing the freedom of debate, they could not found 
their address on that which was the true cause of it. 
Russel and Jones, though formerly lord Halifax's 
friends, thought it was enough not to speak against 
him in the house of commons : but they sat silent. 
Some called him a papist: others said he was an 
atheist. Chichely, that had married his mother, 
moved, that I might be sent for to satisfy the house 
as to the truth of his religion. I wish I could have 
said as much to have persuaded them that he was a 

temporal peers, thirty in num- to the subversion of the legally 

ber, and to the list of their established religion, afforded a 

names this note is subjoined ; triumph to the exclusionists ; 

" Thus all the fourteen bi- but Pearson would never have 

" shops, and forty-nine tempo- consented to set aside the next 

" ral peers, (63 in the whole,) heir of an hereditary monarchy, * 

** voted for its being rejected." and to ruin an individual, on ac- 

So MS. Carte. J. J. J. But, as count of that religion, which 

Chandler above cited asserts, he had protested should be a 

that " upon the first reading of matter solely between God and 

" the bill, it was carried in the his own soul. The intrigues 

" affirmative that it should be with France were at that time 

" committed by two voices on- either not credited, or at least 

" ly," it is probable, that three the professed object of them 

of the bishops were for its known to few ; although it must 

committal ; which gave rise to be acknowledged, that the wise 

the other report. That bishop and good had long been appre- 

Pearson ever voted for this hensive of " the secret machi- 

bill, was always highly im- " nations of the papal faction," 

probable. The conduct indeed to use the words of the same 

of the duke of York after his bishop in the conclusion of a 

accession to the throne, when scarce sermon preached by him 

he abused the royal prerogative in 1673.) 


1680. good Christian, as that he was no papist: I was at 
that time in a very good character in that house : 
the first vohime of the History of the Reformation 
was then out ; and was so well received, that I had 
the thanks of both houses for it, and was desired by 
both to prosecute that work. The parliament had 
made an address to the king for a fast day. Dr. 
Sprat and I were ordered to preach before the house 
of commons : my turn was in the morning : I men- 
tioned nothing relating to the plot, but what ap- 
peared in Coleman's letters : yet I laid open the 
cruelties of the church of Rome in many instances 
that happened in queen Mary's reign, which were 
not then known : and I aggravated, though very 
truly ^, the danger of falling under the power of that 
religion. I pressed also a mutual forbearance among 
ourselves in lesser matters : but I insisted most on 
the impiety and vices that had worn out aU sense of 
religion, and all regard to it among us. Sprat in 
the afternoon went further into the belief of the 
plot than I had done : but he insinuated his fears of 
their undutifulness to the king in such a manner, 
that [as it was much the worse sermon I ever heard 
him preach, so] they were highly offended at him : 
so the commons did not send him thanks, as they 
did to me • which raised his merit at court, as it in- 
creased the displeasure against me. Sprat had stu- 
died a polite style much: but there was little strength 
in it : he had the beginnings of learning laid well in 
him : but he has allowed himself in a course of some 
years in much sloth, and too many liberties '^. 

A bull. S. very much in writing the Re- 

<= Very false. S. Sprat was hearsal. He was highly valued 

chaplain to the duke of Buck- by men of wit, and little by 

inghara, and had assisted him those of his own profession. D. 


The king sent many messages to the house of 168O. 
commons, pressing for a supply, first for preserving 
Tangier, he being then in a war with the king of 
Fez, which by reason of the distance put him to 
much charge; but chiefly, for enabling him to go 
into alliances necessary for the common preserva- 

The house upon that made a long representation 484 
to the king of the dangers that both he and they J/"^^^^"^**^ 
were in ; and assured him, they would do every proceeded 

•^ against 

thing that he could expect of them, as soon as they some with 
were well secured: by which they meant, as soon 
as the exclusion should pass, and that bad ministers 
and ill judges should be removed. They renewed 
their address against lord Halifax ; and made ad- 
di'esses both against the marquis of Worcester, soon 
after made duke of Beaufort, and against lord Cla- 
rendon and Hide, as men inclined to popery. Hide 
spoke so vehemently to vindicate himself from the 
suspicions of popery, that he cried in his speech : 
and Jones, upon the score of old friendship, got the 
words relating to popery to be struck out of the ad- 
dress against him. The commons also impeached 
several of the judges and Mr. Seymour : the judges 
were accused for some illegal charges and judg- 
ments; and Seymour, for corruption and mal-ad- 
ministration in the office of treasurer of the navy. 
They impeached Scroggs for high treason : but it 
was visible that the matters objected to him were 
only misdemeanors : so the lords rejected the im- 
peachment ; which was carried chiefly by the Earl 
of Danby's party, and in favour to him. The com- 
mons did also assert the right of the people to peti- 
tion for a parliament; and because some in theif 


1680. counter-petitions had expressed their abhorrence of 
this practice, they voted these abhorrers to be be- 
trayers of the liberties of the nation. They expelled 
one Withins out of their house for signing one of 
these, though he with great humility confessed his 
fault, and begged pardon for it. The merit of this 
raised him soon to be a judge ; for indeed he had 
no other merit : they fell also on su* George Jeffe- 
ries, a furious declaimer at the bar: but he was 
raised by that, as well as by this prosecution ^. The 
house did likewise send their sergeant to many parts 
of England to bring up abhorrers as delinquents •. 
upon which the right that they had to imprison any 
besides their own members came to be much ques- 
tioned, since they could not receive an information 
upon oath, nor proceed against such as refused to 
appear before them. In many places, those for whom 
they sent their sergeant refused to come up. It was 
found, that such practices were grounded on no law, 
and were no elder than queen Elizabeth's time; 
while the house of commons used that power gently, 
it was submitted to in respect to it: but now it 
grew to be so much extended, that many resolved 
not to submit to it. The former parliament had 
passed a very strict act for the due execution of the 
485 habeas corpus; which was indeed aU they did: it 
was carried by an odd ai'tifice in the house of lords. 
Lord Grey and lord Norris were named to be the 
tellers : lord Norris, being a man subject to vapours, 
was not at all times attentive to what he was doing: 
so a very fat lord coming in, lord Grey counted him 
for ten, as a jest at first : but seeing lord Norris had 

^ But see an accoxint of this as to Jefferies in Mr. Roger 
North's Examen. O. 


not observed it, he went on with this misreckoning i6so. 
of ten : so it was reported to the house, and declared 
that they who were for the bill were the majority, 
though it indeed went on the other side: and by 
this means the bill passed ^ There was a bold for- 
ward man, Sheredon, a native of Ireland, whom the 
commons committed : and he moved for his habeas 
corpus : some of the judges were afraid of the house, 
and kept out of the way : but baron Weston had 
the courage to grant it. The session went yet into 
a higher strain ; for they voted, that all anticipa- 
tions on any branches of the revenue were against 
law, and that whosoever lent any fnoney upon the 
credit of those anticipations were public enemies to 
the kingdom. Upon this it was said, that the par- 
liament would neither supply the king themselves, 
nor suffer him to make use of his credit, which 
every private man might do. They said, on the 
other hand, that they looked on the revenue as a 
public treasure, that was to be kept clear of all anti- 
cipations, and not as a private estate that might be 
mortgaged : and they thought, when aU other means 
of supply except by parliament were stopped, that 
must certainly bring the king to their terms. Yet 
the clamour raised on this, as if they had intended 
to starve the king, and blast his credit, was a great 
load on them : and their vote had no effect, for the 
king continued to have the same credit that he had 
before. Another vote went much higher; it was 
for an association, copied from that in Queen Eliza-, ion*^"** 


* See Minute Book of the house with the number reported 

House of Lords with regard to to be in the division, which 

this bill, and compare there the agrees with this story. O. 
number of lords tliat day in the 


1680. beth*s time, for the revenging the king's death upon 
all papists, if he should happen to be killed. The 
precedent of that time was a specious colour : but 
this difference was assigned between the two cases : 
Queen Elizabeth was in no danger but from papists : 
so that association struck a terror into that whole 
party, which did prove a real security to her ; and 
therefore her ministers set it on. But now, it was 
said, there were many republicans still in the nation, 
and many of Cromwell's officers were yet alive, who 
seemed not to repent of what they had done : so 
some of these might by this means be encouraged to 
attempt on the king's life, presuming that both the 
486 suspicions and revenges of it would be cast upon the 
duke and the papists. Great use was made of this 
to possess all people, that this association was in- 
tended to destroy the king, instead of preserving 
Expedients There was not much done in the house of lords 

offered iii « ■, , „ • t i 

the house alter they threw out the biU of exclusion. Lord 
Halifax indeed pressed them to go on to limitations: 
and he began with one, that the duke should be 
obliged to live five hundred miles out of England 
during the king's life. But the house was cold and 
backward in all that matter. Those that were really 
the duke's friends abhorred all those motions : and 
lord Shaftsbury and his party laughed at them : 
they were resolved to let all lie in confusion, rather 
than hearken to any thing besides the exclusion. 
The house of commons seemed also to be so set 
against that project, that very little progress was 
made in it. Lord Essex made a motion, which was 
agreed to in a thin house : but it put an end to all 
discourses of that nature : he moved, that an asso* 


ciation should be entered into to maintain those ex- iGso, 

pedients, and that some cautionary towns should be 

put into the hands of the associators during the 
king's life to make them good after his death. The 
king looked on this as a deposing of himself. He 
had read more in Davdla than in any other book of 
history : and he had a clear view into the conse- 
quences of such things, and looked on this as worse 
than the exclusion. So that, as lord Halifax often 
observed to me, this whole management looked like 
a design to unite the king more entirely to the 
duke, instead of separating him from him : the king 
came to think that he himself was levelled at 
chiefly, though for decency's sake his brother was 
only named. The truth was, the leading men 
thought they were sure of the nation, and of all 
future elections, as long as popery was in view. 
They fancied the king must have a parliament, and 
money from it very soon, and that in conclusion he 
would come into them. He was much beset by all 
the hungry courtiers, who longed for a bill of mo- 
ney : they studied to persuade him, from his father's 
misfortunes, that the longer he was in yielding, the 
terms would grow the higher. 

They relied much on the lady Portsmouth's in- Duchess of 
terest, who did openly declare her self for the house mouth's 
of commons : and they were • so careful of her, that ,^"S,** 
when one moved that an address should be made to™"^**'"'*- 

tle under- 

the king for sending her away, he could not be»tood. 
heard, though at another time such a motion would 
have been better entertained. Her behaviour in this 
matter was unaccountable : and the duke's behaviour 
to her afterwards looked liker an acknowledgment 4-87 
than a resentment. Many refined upon it, and 


1680. thought she was set on as a decoy to keep the party 

up to the exclusion, that they might not hearken to 

the limitations. The duke was assured, that the 
king would not grant the one : and so she was ar- 
tificially managed to keep them from the other, to 
which the king would have consented, and of which 
the duke was most afraid. But this was too fine ^ : 
she was hearty for the exclusion : of which I had 
this particular account from Mountague, who I be- 
lieve might be the person that laid the bait before 
her. It was proposed to her, that if she could bring 
the king to the exclusion, and to some other popular 
things, the parliament would go next to prepare a 
bill for securing the king's person ; in which a clause 
might be canied, that the king might declare the 
successor to the crown, as had been done in Henry 
the Eighth's time. This would very much raise the 
king's authority, and would be no breach with the 
prince of Orange, but would rather oblige him to a 
greater dependence on the king. The duke of Mon- 
mouth and his party would certainly be for this 
clause, since he could have no prospect any other 
way ; and he would please himself with the hopes 
of being preferred by the king to any other person. 
But since the lady Portsmouth found she was so 
absolutely the mistress of the king's spirit, she might 
reckon, that if such an act could be canied the king 
would be prevailed on to declare her son his succes- 
sor : and it was suggested to her, that, in order to 
the strengthening her son's interest, she ought to 

*^ Many of the duke's letters enemies he had, and thinks no- 
testify, that he was upon very thing will be well till Godol- 
ill terms with her at that time, phin and all the rotten sheep 
and looked upon her and her at the end of the gallery are 
cabal as the most dangerous turned out. D. 


treat for a match with the king of France's natural i680. 
daughter, now the duchess of Bourbon. And thus 
the duke of Monmouth and she were brought to an 
agreement to carry on the exclusion, and that other 
act pursuant to it: and they thought they were 
making tools of one another to carry on their own 
ends. The nation was possessed with such a dis- 
trust of the king, that there was no reason to think 
they could ever be brought to so entire a confidence 
in him, as to deliver up themselves and their po- 
sterity so bUndfold into his hands. Mountague as- 
sured me, that she not only acted heartily in this 
matter, but she once drew the king to consent to it, 
if she 5 might have had 800,000/. for it ; and that 
was afterwards brought down to 600,000/. But the 
jealousies upon the king himself were such, that the 
managers in the house of commons durst not move 
for giving money till the bill of exclusion should 
pass, lest they should have lost their credit by such 488 
a motion : and the king would not trust them. So 
near was this point brought to an agi'eement, if 
Mountague told me true ^. 

That which reconciled the duke to the duchess of 
Portsmouth was, that the king assured him, she did 
all by his order, that so she might have credit with 
the party, and see into their designs : upon which 
the duke saw it was necessary to believe this, or at 
least to seem to believe it. 

8 (The greatness of the sum, serves, that the king might have 

as well as the remaining part had much greater sums given 

of the story, makes it probable him openly, if he had consented 

that he, instead of she, was ori- to the exclusion. But of the 

ginally written.) duchess of Portsmouth's in- 

*" (Salmon, in his Examina- trigues with the exclusionists 

tion of this Hist. p. 857, ob- there exists no doubt.) 



1680. The other great business of this parliament was 
the trial of the viscount of Stafford, who was the 
younger son of the old earl of Arundell, and so was 
uncle to the duke of Norfolk. He was a weak, but 
a fair conditioned man : he was in ill terms with his 
nephew's family : and had been guilty of great vices 
in his youth, which had almost proved fatal to him : 
he married the heiress of the great family of the 
Staflfords. He thought the king had not rewarded 
him for his former services as he had deserved : so 
he often voted against the court, and made great 
applications always to the earl of Shaftsbury. He 
was in no good terms with the duke ; for the great 
consideration the court had of his nephew's family 
made him to be the most neglected: when Gates 
deposed first against him, he happened to be out of 
the way : and he kept out a day longer. But the 
day after he came in, and delivered himself: which, 
considering the feebleness of his temper, and the 
heat of that time, was thought a sign of innocence. 
Oates and Bedlow swore, he had a patent to be 
paymaster general to the army ; Dugdale swore, 
that he offered him 500/. to kill the king. Bedlow 
had died the summer before at Bristol. It was in 
the time of the assizes : North, lord chief justice of 
the common pleas, being there, he sent for him, and 
by oath confirmed all that he had sworn formerly, 
except that which related to the queen and to the 
duke. He also denied upon oath, that any person 
had ever practised upon him, or corrupted him : his 
disowning some of the particulars which he had 
sworn had an appearance of sincerity, and gave 
much credit to his former depositions. I could 
never hear what sense he expressed of the other ill 


parts of his life, for he vanished soon out of all ]680. 
men's thoughts '. 

Another witness appeared against lord Stafford, 
one TurberviU; who swore, that in the year se- 
venty-five the lord Stafford had taken much pains 
to persuade him to kill the king : he began the pro- 
position to him at Paris : and sent him by the way 
of Diep over to England, teUing him that he in- 489 
tended to follow by the same road : but he wrote 
afterwards to him that he was to go by Calais. 
But he said he never went to see him upon his 
coming to England. TurberviU swore the year 
wrong at first : but upon recollection he went and 
corrected that error. This, at such a distance of 
time, seemed to be no great matter : it seemed much 
stranger, that after such discourses once begun, he 
should never go near the lord Stafford; and that 
lord Stafford should never inquire after him. But 
there was a much more material objection to him. 
TurberviU, upon discourse with some in St. Mar- 
tin's parish, seemed incUned to change his religion : 
they brought him to Dr. Lloyd, then their minister : 
and he convinced him so fuUy, that he changed upon 
it: and after that he came often to him, and was 
chiefly supported by him : for some months he was 
constantly at his table. Lloyd had pressed him to 
recoUect aU that he had heard among the papists 
relating to plots and designs against the king or the 
nation. He said that which aU the converts at that 

'(North, p. 252 — 255, Ex- He thinks that Bedloe went to 
amen of Crit. Hist, says, that the Bristol, where he fell sick and 
tendency of Bedloe's oath was died, for the purpose of trepan- 
to accuse the queen and the ning the lord chief justice into 
duke of York ; but that nothing danger, which by his good for- 
express or positive was declared, tune and prudence he avoided.) 



16S0. time said often, that they had it among them that 
within a very little while their religion would be 
set up in England ; and that some of them said, a 
great deal of blood would be shed before it could be 
brought about : but he protested that he knew no 
particulars. After some months' dependance on 
Lloyd, he withdrew entirely from him ; and he saw 
him no more, tUl he appeared now an evidence 
against lord Stafford : Lloyd was in great difficul- 
ties upon that occasion. It had been often declared, 
that the most solemn denials of witnesses before 
they make discoveries did not at aU invalidate their 
evidence; and that it imported no more, but that 
they had been so long firm to their promise of re- 
vealing nothing: so that this negative evidence 
against TurberviU could have done lord Stafford no 
service. On the other hand, considering the load 
that already lay on Lloyd on the account of Berry's 
business'', and that his being a little before this 
time promoted to be bishop of St. Asaph was im- 
puted to that, it was visible that his discovering 
this against TurberviU would have aggravated those 
censures, and very much blasted him. In opposition 
to all this, here- was a justice to be done, and a ser- 
vice to truth, towards the saving a man's life : and 
the question was very hard to be determined. He 
advised with all his friends, and with my self in 
particular. The much greater number were of opi- 
nion that he ought to be silent '. I said, my own 

^ (See before, p. 447. Was he passionately desired it, al- 

this load on him, by his having though, according to Burnet, 

professed his belief in Berry's he believed Berry's solemn and 

innocence ? Higgons, in his repeated declarations of his be- 

Remarks on this Hist. p. 211, ing innocent of the charge 

relates, that Dr. Lloyd refused brought against him.) 
the sacrament to Berry, vehen ' Damned advice. S. 


behaviour in Staley's affair shewed what I would 168O. 
do if I was in that case : but his circumstances were Tq^ 
very different : so I concurred with the rest as to 
him. He had another load on liim : he had writ a 
book with very sincere intentions, but upon a very 
tender point : he proposed, that a discrimination 
should be made between the regular priests that 
were in a dependance and under directions from 
Rome, and the secular priests that would renounce 
the pope's deposing power and his infallibility "' : he 
thought this would raise heats among themselves, 
and di'aw censures from Rome on the seculars, 
which in conclusion might have very good effects. 
This was very plausibly writ, and designed with 
great sincerity : but angry men said, all this was 
intended only to take off so much from the appre- 
hensions that the nation had of popery, and to give 
a milder idea of a great body among them : and as 
soon as it had that effect, it- was probable that all 
the missionaries would have leave given them to 
put on that disguise, and to take those discriminat- 
ing tests till they had once prevailed : and then they 
would throw them off. Thus the most zealous man 
against popery that I ever yet knew, and the man 
of the most entire sincerity, was so heavily censured 
at this time, that it was not thought fit, nor indeed 
safe °, for him to declare what he knew concerning 

" See Athenae Oxon. vol. ii. him from it. O. 
col. 1 090. And see State Tri- " But he ought to have done 

als, for sir F. Winnington's it. O. (So says every other ho- 

speech, at the beginning of lord nest man. See this business set 

Stafford's trial, which might in its proper light, in Salmon's 

perhaps determine Lloyd not Lives of the English Bishops, 

to give this evidence, and deter p. 149 — 155) 

S 2 


1680. The trial was very august : the earl of Nottingham 
was the lord high steward : it continued five days. 
On the first day the commons brought only general 
evidence to prove the plot : Smith swore some things 
that had been said to him at Rome of killing the 
king : an Irish priest, that had been long in Spain, 
confirmed many particulars in Oates's narrative: 
then the witnesses deposed all that related to the 
plot in general. To aU this lord Stafford said little, 
as not being much concerned in it : only he declared, 
that he was always against the pope's power of de- 
posing princes. He also observed a great difference 
between the gunpowder plot and that which was 
now on foot : that in the former all the chief con- 
spirators died confessing the fact ; but that now all 
died with the solemnest protestations of their inno- 
cence. On the second day the evidence against 
himself was brought : he urged against Oates, that 
he swore he had gone in among them on design to 
betray them: so that he had been for some years 
taking oaths and receiving sacraments in so trea- 
cherous a manner, that no credit could be given to a 
man that wa^ so black by his own confession. On 
the third day he brought his evidence to discredit 
491 the witnesses : his servant swore, that while he was 
at the lord Aston's, Dugdale never was in his cham- 
ber but once ; and that was on the account of a foot 
race. Some deposed against Dugdale's reputation : 
and one said, that he had been practising on himself 
to swear as he should direct him. The minister of 
the parish and another gentleman deposed, that they 
heard nothing from Dugdale concerning the killing 
a justice of peace in Westminster, which, as he had 
sworn, he had said to them. As to Turbervill, who 


had said that the lord Stafford was at that time in a 168O. 
fit of the gout, his servants said they never knew 
him in a fit of the gout : and he himself affirmed, he 
never had one in his whole life. He also proved 
that he did not intend to come to England by Diep ; 
for he had writ for a yacht which met him at Calais. 
He also proved by several witnesses, that both Dug- 
dale and Turbervill had often said that they knew 
nothing of any plot ; and that Turbervill had lately 
said, he would set up for a witness, for none lived 
so well as witnesses did : he insisted likewise on the 
mistake of the year, and on Turbervill's never com- 
ing near him after he came over to England. The 
strongest part of his defence was, that he made it 
out unanswerably, that he was not at the lord As- 
ton's on one of the times that Dugdale had fixed on ; 
for at that time he was either at Bath or at Bad- 
minton. For Dugdale had once fixed on a day; 
though afterwards he said it was about that time : 
now that day happened to be the marquis of Wor- 
cester's wedding-day : and on that day it was fully 
proved that he was at Badminton, that lord's house, 
not far from the Bath. On the fourth day proofs were 
brought to support the credit of the witnesses : it 
was made out, that Dugdale had served the lord As- 
ton long, and with great reputation. It was now 
two full years since he began to make discoveries : 
and in all that time they had not found any one par- 
ticular to blemish him with ; though no doubt they 
had taken pains to examine into his life. His pub- 
lishing the news of Godfrey's death was well made 
out, though two persons in the company had not 
minded it : many proofs were brought that he was 
often in lord Stafford's company, of which many 



]6so. more affidavits were made after that lord's death. 
Two women that were stiU papists swore, that upon 
the breaking out of the plot he searched into many 
papers, and burnt them : he gave many of these to 
one of the women to fling in the fire ; but finding a 
book of accounts, he laid that aside, saying, There is 
492! no treason here ; which imported that he thought the 
others were treasonable. He proved that one of the 
witnesses brought against him was so infamous in aU 
respects, that lord Stafford himself was convinced of 
it. He said, he had only pressed a man, who now 
appeared against him, to discover all he knew : he 
said, at such a distance of time he might mistake as 
to time or a day ; but could not be mistaken as to 
the things themselves. TurberviU described both 
the street and the room in Paris in which he saw 
lord Stafford. He found a witness that saw him at 
Diep, to whom he complained, that a lord for whom 
he looked had failed him: and upon that he said 
he was no good staff to lean on ; by which, though 
he did not name the lord, he believed he meant lord 
Stafford. Dugdale and he both confessed they had 
denied long that they knew any thing of the plot, 
which was the effect of the resolution they had 
taken, to which they adhered long, of discovering 
nothing : it was also proved that lord Stafford was 
often lame, which TurberviU took for the gout. On 
the fifth day lord Stafford resumed all his evidence, 
and urged every particular very strongly. Jones, in 
the name of the commons, did on the other hand re- 
sume the evidence against him with great force : he 
said indeed nothing for supporting Gates; for the 
objection against him was not to be answered. He 
made it very clear that Dugdale and TurberviU were 


two good witnesses, and were not at all discredited 1690. 
by any thing that was brought against them. When Hewascoa- 
it came to the giving of judgment, above fifty of the '^''™"*'*' 
peers gave it against lord Stafford, and above thirty 
acquitted him : four of the Howards, his kinsmen, 
condemned him : lord ArundeU °, afterwards duke 
of Norfolk, though in enmity with him^ did acquit 
him. Duke Lauderdale condemned him: and so 
did both the earls of Nottingham and Anglesey ; 
[though the last of those very imprudently said, he 
did not believe the witnesses.] Lord Halifax ac- 
quitted him. Lord Nottingham, when he gave 
judgment, delivered it with one of the best speeches 
he had ever made. But he committed one great in- 
decency in it : for he said, who can doubt any longer 
that London was burnt by papists ? though there was 
not one word in the whole trial relating to that 
matter. Lord Stafford behaved himself during the 
whole time, and at the receiving his sentence, with 
much more constancy than was expected from him p. 

Within two days after he sent a message to the He sent for 
lords, desiring that the bishop of London and IJioyedmT' 
mif^ht be appointed to come to him. We waited ^^ *'.*' *'•'" 

o rr service. 

on him : his design seemed to be only to possess us 493 

° Then of the house of lords, " other considerations, am very 

as lord Mowbray called tip by " sorry his majesty will be so 

writ to that barony of his father. " hard put to it ; for I hope he 

O. " will remember the continual 

P The duke, in one of his let- " trouble it was to the king his 

ters, says, " I was informed by " father, the having consented 

•" Fielding of lord Stafford's be- " to the death of the earl of 

** ing condemned, which sur- " Strafford, and not have such a 

" prised me, though I knew " burden on his conscience ; 

" the malice of some against " and on the other hand, I 

" him and the government, " know he will be hard prest 

" would make them press it to " to sign the warrant against 

." the utmost. And besides all " this unfortunate lord." D. 



1680. with an opinion of his innocence, of which he made 
very solemn protestations. He heard us speak of 
the points in difference between us and the church 
of Rome with great temper and attention. At part- 
ing, he desired me to come back to him next day ; 
for he had a mind to be more particular with me. 
When I came to him, he repeated the protestations 
of his innocence; and said, he was confident the 
villany of the witnesses would soon appear : he did 
not doubt I should see it in less than a year. I 
pressed him in several points of religion ; and urged 
several things, which he said he had never heard be- 
fore. He said, these things on another occasion 
would have made some impression upon him ; but 
he had now little time, therefore he would lose none 
in controversy : so I let that discourse fall. I talked 
to him of those preparations for death in which all 
Christians agree : he entertained these very seriously: 
[much above what I expected from him.] He had 
a mind to live, if it was possible : he said, he could 
discover nothing with relation to the king's life, 
protesting that there was not so much as an intima- 
tion about it that had ever passed among them. But 
he added, that he could discover many other things, 
that were more material than any thing that was yet 
known, and for which the duke would never forgive 
him : and of these, if that might save his life, he 
would make a fuU discovery. I stopt liim when he 
was going on to particulars ; for I would not be a 
confident in any thing in which the public safety 
was concerned. He knew best the importance of 
those secrets ; and so he could only judge, whether 
it would be of that value as to prevail with the two 
houses to interpose with the king for his pardon. 


He seemed to think it would be of great use, chiefly 168O. 
to support what they were then driving on with re- 
lation to the duke : he desired me to speak to lord 
Essex, lord Russel, and sir William Jones. I brought 
him their answer the next day ; which was, that if 
he did discover all he knew concerning the papists' 
designs, and more particularly concerning the duke, 
they would endeavour that it should not be insisted 
on, that he must confess those particulars for which 
he was judged. He asked me, what if he should name 
some who had now great credit, but had once engaged 
to serve their designs : I said, nothing could be more 
acceptable than the discovering such disguised pa- 
pists, or false protestants : yet upon this I charged 
him solemnly not to think of redeeming his own life 
by accusing any other falsely, but to tell the truth, and 
all the truth, as far as the common safety was con- 494 
cemed in it. As we were discoursing of these mat- 
ters, the earl of Carlisle came in : [who had been in 
great favour with Cromwell, and was captain of his 
guards, and had then run into a high profession of re- 
ligion, to the pitch of praying and preaching in their 
meetings. But after the restoration he shook that off, 
and run into a course of vice. He loved to be popu- 
lar, and yet to keep up an interest at court ; and so 
was apt to go forward and backward in public af- 
fairs.] In his hearing, by lord Stafford's leave, I went 
over all that had passed between us, and did again 
solemnly adjure him to say nothing but the truth. 
Upon this he desired the earl of Carlisle to carry a 
message from him to the house of lords, that whenso- 
ever they would send for him he would discover all 
that he knew : upon that he was immediately sent 
for. And he began with a long relation of their 


1680. first consultations after the restoration about the me- 
"" thods of bringing in theii' religion, which they all 

agi'eed could only be brought about by a toleration. 
He told them of the earl of Bristol's project ; and 
Went on to tell who had undertaken to procure 
the toleration for them : and then he named the earl 
of Shaftsbury. When he named him, he was ordered 
to withdraw : and the lords would hear no more 
from him. It was also given out, that in this I was 
a tool of lord Halifax's to bring him thither to blast 
lord Shaftsbury. He was sent back to the tower : 
and then he composed himself in the best way he 
could to suffer, which he did with a constant and un- 
His execu- disturbed mind : he supped and slept well the night 
before his execution, and died without any shew of 
fear or disorder. He denied all that the witnesses 
had sworn against him. And this was the end of the 
plot 1. I was very unjustly censured on both hands. 
The earl of Shaftsbury railed so at me, that I went 
no more near him. And the duke was made believe 
that I had persuaded lord Stafford to charge him, 
aiid to discover all he knew against him : which was 
the beginning of the implacable hatred he shewed 
on many occasions against me. Thus the inno- 
centest and best meant parts of a man's life may be 
misunderstood and highly censured. 

168 1 . The house of commons had another business before 
the^fa^ou? them in this session : there was a severe act passed 

of the non- 

confonniats. q ("My lord Danby's tryal gave " no respit, felt the weight of 

" the five catholick lords in the " that mercyless and bloody 

*• tower more time to prepare, " ifection." Life of King James 

*' and their innoceney to appear; II. published from the Stuart 

" whereby none but my lord Papers, vol. i. p. 543.) 
" Stafford, to whom they gave 


in the end of queen Elizabeth's reign, when she igsi. 

was highly provoked with the seditious behaviour of 

the Puritans, by which those who did not conform to 
the church were required to abjure the kingdom un- 
der the pain of death : and for some degrees of non- 
conformity they were adjudged to die, without the 
favour of banishment. Both houses passed a bill for 
repealing this act: it went indeed heavily in the 
house of lords ; for many of the bishops, though they 
were not for putting that law in execution, which 
had never been done but in one single instance', 
yet they thought the terror of it was of some use, 495 
and that the repealing it might make the party more 
insolent. On the day of the prorogation the bill 
ought to have been offered to the king, but the 
clerk of the crown, by the king's particulai' order, 
withdrew the bill. The king had no mind openly 
to deny it : but he had less mind to pass it. So this 
indiscreet method was taken, which was a high of- 
fence in the clerk of the crown. There was a bill 
of comprehension oflfered by the episcopal party in 
the house of commons, by which the presbyterians 
would have been taken into the church. But to the 
amazement of all people, their party in the house did 
not seem concerned to promote it : on the contrary, 
they neglected it. This increased the jealousy, as 
if they had hoped they were so near the carrying all 
before them, that they despised a comprehension : 
there was no great progi*ess made in this bill. But 
in the morning before they were prorogued two 
votes were carried in the house, of a very extraordi- 
nary nature : the one was, that the laws made against 

f (Thut of Penry.) 


^^^^' recusants ought not to be executed against any but 
those of the church of Rome. That was indeed the 
primary intention of the law : yet all persons who 
came not to church, and did not receive the sacra- 
ment once a year, were within the letter of the law. 
The other vote was, that it was the opinion of that 
house, that the laws against dissenters ought not 
to be executed. This was thought a great invasion 
of the legislature, when one house pretended to 
suspend the execution of laws : which was to act 
like dictators in the state ; for they meant that courts 
and juries should govern themselves by the opinion 
that they now gave : which, instead of being a kind- 
ness to the nonconformists, raised a new storm 
against them over all the nation. When the king 
saw no hope of prevailing with the commons on any 
other terms, but his granting the exclusion, he re- 
solved to prorogue the parliament. And it was dis- 
solved in a few days after, in January eighty one. 
Thepariia- The king rcsolvcd to try a parliament once more: 

ment was , i t i i i . o 

dissolved, but apprehending that they were encouraged, if not 
inflamed by the city of London, he summoned the 
next parliament to meet at Oxford. It was said, 
men were now very bold about London, by their 
confidence in the juries that the sheriffs took care to 
return. Several printers were indicted for scandalous 
libels that they had printed : but the grand juries re- 
turned an ignoramus upon the biUs against them, on 
this pretence, that the law only condemned the print- 
496 ing such libels maliciously and seditiously, and that it 
did not appear that the printers had any iU intentions 
in what they did ; whereas, if it was found that they 
printed such libels, the construction of law made 
that to be malicious and seditious. The elections 


over England for the new parliament went generally lesi. 
for the same persons that had served in the former 
parliament : and in many places it was given as an 
instruction to the members to stick to the bill of ex- 

The king was now very uneasy : he saw he was 
despised all Europe over, as a prince that had nei- 
ther treasure nor power : so one attempt more was 
to be made, which was to be managed chiefly by Lit- 
tleton, who was now brought into the commission of 
the admiralty. I had once, in a long discourse with 
him, argued against the expedients, because they did 
really reduce us to the state of a commonwealth. I 
thought a much better way was, that there should 
be a protector declared, with whom the regal power 
should be lodged ; and that the prince of Orange ^ new ex- 
should be the person^. He approved the notion: but prince 


thought that the title protector was odious, since 
Cromwell had assumed it, and that therefore regent 
would be better : we dressed up a scheme of this for 
near two hours : and I dreamt no more of it. But 
some days after, he told me the notion took with 
some, and that both lord Halifax and Seymour liked 
it : but he wondered to find lord Sunderland did not 
go into it. He told me after the parliament was 
dissolved, but in great secrecy, that the king himself 
liked it. Lord Nottingham talked in a general and 
odd strain about it. He gave it out, that the king 
was resolved to offer one expedient, which was be- 
yond any thing that the parliament could have the 
confidence to ask. Littleton pressed me to do what I 
could to promote it ; and said, that as I was the first 

» (This plan is noticed in the abovementioned Life of King 
James II. vol i. p. 658.) 


1681. that had suggested it, so I should have the honour of 

it, if it proved so successful as to procure the quiet- 
ing of the nation. I argued upon it with Jones ; 
but I found they had laid it down for a maxim, to 
hearken to nothing but the exclusion. All the duke 
of Monmouth's party looked on this as that which 
must put an end to all his hopes. Others thought, 
in point of honour, they must go on as they had done 
hitherto : Jones stood upon a point of law, of the 
unseparableness of the prerogative from the person 
of the king*. He said an infant or a lunatic was in 
a real incapacity of struggling with his guardians ; 
497 but that if it was not so, the law that constituted 
their guardians would be of no force. He said, if 
the duke came to be king, the prerogative would by 
that vest in him ; and the prince regent and he must 
either strike up a bargain, or it must end in a civil 
war, in which he believed the force of law would 
give the king the better of it. It was not to be de- 
nied but that there was some danger in this : but in 
the iU circumstances in which we were, no remedies 
could be proposed that were without great inconve- 
niences, and that were not liable to much danger". 

* A lawyer's way of arguing, The reverence for the old con- 

very weak. S. stitution would have withstood 

" So much, that I am per- ail the attempts to put the ex- 
suaded, from having read the pedients into execution. And 
debates upon this matter, at the if the duke of York should 
different times it was agitated in have had a son at any time 
the house of commons, either afterwards, as it was allow- 
scheme would have been im- ed he would have been king 
practicable, or have produced a immediately, how could the ex- 
civil war : the condition of this elusion of the father have been 
country was undoubtedly very supported ? Who would have 
deplorable;^butthings were not done it? And then all things 
yet brought to a crisis, to en- would have run back -into the 
gage the body of the nation in regular succession, and in the 
such a change of government, confusion or heat of that, tlie 


In the mean while both sides were taking all the 1681. 
pains they could to fortify their party : and it was 
very visible, that the side which was for the ex- 
clusion was like to be the strongest. 

A few days l^efore the king went to Oxford, Fitz- Fitziiams 
harris, an Irish papist, was taken up for framing a 
malicious and treasonable libel against the king and 
his whole family. He had met with one Everard, 
who pretended to make discoveries, and, as was 
thought, had mixed a great deal of falsehood with 
some truth : but he held himself in general terms, 
and did not descend to so many particulars as the 
witnesses had done. Fitzharris and he had been 
acquainted in France : so on that confidence he 
shewed him his libel : and he made an appointment 
to come to Everard's chamber, who thought he in- 
tended to trepan him, and so had placed witnesses 
to overhear all that passed. Fitzharris left the libel 
with him, all writ in his own hand : Everard went 
with the paper and with his witnesses, and informed 
against Fitzharris, who upon that was committed. 
But seeing the proof against him was like to be full, 
he said, the libel was drawn by Everard, and only co- 
pied by himself: but he had no sort of proof to sup- 
port this. Cornish the sheriff going to see him, he 
desired he would !>ring him a justice of peace ; for 
he could make a gi*eat discovery of the plot, far 
beyond all that was yet known. Cornish, in the 
simplicity of his heart, went and acquainted the king 

crown would have become arbi- provisions made upon it for 

trary. If a civil war had hap- establishing the new govem- 

pened, it is very probable the ment, could have brought on 

case had been the same, which- or maintained the change, and 

ever side had prevailed ; nothing the last has been almost mira- 

but the particular circumstances culous. God grant it a continu- 

of the revolution, and the wise ance ! O. 


1681. with this: for which he was much blamed; for it 
was said, by this means that discovery might have 
been stopped: but his going first with it to the 
court proved afterwards a great happiness both to 
himself and to many others. The secretaries and 
some privy counsellors were upon that sent to ex- 
amine Fitzharris ; to whom he gave a long relation 
of a practice to kill the king, in which the duke 
was concerned, with many other particulars which 
need not be mentioned; for it was all a fiction. 
The secretaries came to him a second time, to ex- 
amine him farther : he boldly stood to all he had 
498 said : and he desired that some justices of the city 
might be brought to him. So Clayton and Treby 
went to him : and he made the same pretended 
discovery to them over again ; and insinuated, that 
he was glad it was now in safe hands that would 
not stifle it. The king was highly offended with 
this, since it plainly shewed a distrust of his minis- 
ters : and so Fitzharris was removed to the tower ; 
which the court resolved to make the prison for all 
offenders, till there should be sheriffs chosen more 
at the king's devotion. Yet the deposition made to 
Clayton and Treby was in aU points the same that 
he had made to the secretaries : so that there was 
no colour for the pretence afterward put on this, as 
if they had practised on him. 
Thepariia- The parliament met at Oxford in March: the 

ment of , . n ' 

Oxford was king opcucd it With severe reflections on the pro- 
so?°ed!* ceedings of the former parliament. He said, he was 
resolved to maintain the succession of the crown in 
the right Une : but for quieting his people's fears he 
was willing to put the administration of the govern- 
ment into protestants' hands. This was explained 
by Emley and Littleton to be meant of a prince 


regent, with whom the regal prerogative should be i68i. 
lodged during the duke's life. Jones and Littleton 
managed the debate on the grounds formerly men- 
tioned : but in the end the proposition was rejected ; 
and they resolved to go again to the bill of exclu- 
sion, to the great joy of the duke's party, who de- 
clared themselves more against this than against 
the exclusion itself. The commons resolved like- 
wise to take the management of Fitzharris's affair 
out of the hands of the court " : so they carried to 
the lords' bar an impeachment against him, which 
was rejected by the lords upon a pretence with 
which lord Nottingham furnished them. It was 
thisy; Edward the third had got some commoners 
to be condemned by the lords : of which when the 
house of commons complained, an order was made, 
that no such thing should be done for the future. 
Now that related only to proceedings at the king's 
suit : but it could not be meant, that an impeach- 
ment from the commons did not lie against a com- 
moner. Judges, secretaries of state, and the lord 
keeper were often commoners : so if this was good 
law, here was a certain method offered to the court, 
to be troubled no more with impeachments, by em- 
ploying only commoners. In short, the peers saw 
the design of this impeachment, and were resolved 
not to receive it : and so made use of this colour to 
reject it. Upon that the commons passed a vote, 
that justice was denied them by the lords : and they 499 
also voted, that all those who concurred in any sort 
in trying Fitzharris in any other court, were be- 

" See the Journal of the Lords y See the Journal of the 

as to this matter ; and the State Lords, 26. 27. 29th of Jane, 
Trials for that of Fitzharris. O. 2d of July, 1689. O. 



1681. trayers of the liberties of their country. By these 
steps which they had already made, the king saw 
what might be expected from them : so very sud- 
denly, and not very decently, he came to the house 
of lords, the crown being carried between his feet in 
a sedan ^- : and he put on his robes in haste, without 
any previous notice, and called up the commons, 
and dissolved the parliament ; and went with such 
haste to Windsor, that it looked as if he was afraid 
of the crowds that this meeting had brought to Ox- 
ford ^. 
A great Immediately upon this the court took a new ply ; 

change in , . 

affairs, and thiugs went in another channel : of which I go 
next to give as impartial an account as I have hi- 
therto given of the plot, and of all that related to it. 
At this time the distinguishing names of whig and 
tory came to be the denominations of the parties. 
I have given a full account of aU errors during this 
time with the more exactness, to warn posterity 
from falling into the like excesses, and to make it 
appear how mad and fatal a thing it is to run vio- 
lently into a torrent, and in a heat to do those 
things which may give a general disgust, and to set 
precedents to others, when times turn, to justify 
their excesses, by sapng they do only foUow the 
steps of those who went before them. The shed- 
ding so much blood upon such doubtful evidence 
was like to have proved fatal to him who drove aU 

" (" The truth of the mat- of the whigs themselves, that 

" ter was, that the crown was the meeting had more the air 

" put in the bag with'the robes, of a Polish diet than an English 

" and sent privatelyj before, to parliament, and that Shaftsbury 

" prevent any suspicion of the and his party made their public 

" dissolution." Higgons's Re- entry with great numbers of 

marks, p. 223.) horsemen, as well armed as the 

^ I have been told by several guards. D. 


these things on with the greatest fury: I mean the 1681. 
earl of Shaftsbury himself. And the strange change 
that appeared over the nation with relation to the 
duke, from such an eager prosecution of the exclu- 
sion to an indecent courting and magnifying him, 
not without a visible coldness towards the king in 
comparison of him, shewed how little men could 
build on popular heats, which have their ebbings 
and flowings, and their hot and cold fits, almost as 
certainly as seas or fevers have. When such 
changes happen, those who have been as to the 
main with the side that is run down, will be charged 
with all the errors of their side, how much soever 
they may have opposed them. I who had been al- 
ways in distrust of the witnesses, and dissatisfied 
with the whole method of proceedings, yet came to 
be fallen on, not only in pamphlets and poems, but 
even in sermons, as if I had been an incendiary, and 
a main stickler against the court, and in particular 
against the duke. So upon this I went into a closer 
retirement: and to keep my mind from running 500 
after news and affairs, I set my self to the study of 
philosophy and algebra. I diverted my self with 
many processes in chemistry : and I hope I went 
into the best exercises, from which I had been 
much diverted by the bustling of a great town in 
so hot a time. I had been much trusted by both 
sides: and that is a very dangerous state; for a 
man may come upon that to be hated and suspected 
by both. I withdrew much from all conversation : 
only I lived still in a particular confidence with the 
lords Essex and Russel. 

The kinff set out a declaration for satisfying his Ti«e king** 

^ _ . declar*Uon. 

people. He reckoned up in it all the hard things 

T 2 

i68i. that had been done by the three last parliaments; 

and set out their undutiful behaviour to himself in 
many instances : yet in conclusion he assured his 
good subjects, that nothing should ever alter his 
affection to the protestant religion as established by 
law, nor his love to parliaments : for he would have 
stiU frequent parliaments. When this passed in 
council, the archbishop of Canterbury moved, that 
an order should be added to it, requiring the clergy 
to publish it in aU the churches of England : this 
was looked on as a most pernicious precedent, by 
which the clergy were made the heralds to pubHsh 
the king's declarations, which in some instances 
might come to be not only indecent but mischiev- 
ous. An answer was writ to the king's declaration 
with great spirit and true judgment. It was at first 
penned by Sidney ^. But a new draught was made 
by Somers, and corrected by Jones. The spirit of 
that side was now spent : so that this, though the 
best writ paper in all that time, yet had no great 
Addresses effect. The declaration raised over England a hu- 
fromlu °^ mour of making addresses to the king, as it were in 
En'Jia°Jd. answer to it. The grand juries and the bench of 
justices in the counties, the cities and boroughs, the 
franchises and corporations, many manors, the com- 
panies in towns, and at last the very apprentices, 
sent up addresses. Of these some were more mo- 
destly penned, and only expressed their joy at the 
assurances they saw in the king's declaration ; and 
concluded, that they upon that dedicated their lives 
and fortunes to his service. But the greater num- 
ber, and the most acceptable, were those who de- 
clared they would adhere to the unalterable succes- 
^ Algernoon Sidney. O. 


sion of the crown in the lineal and legal descent, 1671, 
and condemned the bill of exclusion. Others went 
higher, and arraigned the late parliaments as guilty 
of sedition and treason. Some reflected severely on 
the nonconformists; and thanked the king for his 501 
not repealing that act of the thirty-fifth of queen 
Elizabeth, which they prayed might be put in ex- 
ecution. Some of the addresses were very high pa- 
negyrics, in which the king's person and govern- 
ment were much magnified. Many of those who 
brought these up were knighted upon it : and all 
were well treated at court. Many zealous healths 
were drunk among them : and in their cups the old 
valour and the swaggerings of the cavaliers seemed 
to be revived. The ministers saw through this, and 
that it was an empty noise and a false shew. But 
it was thought necessary then to encourage it. 
Though lord Halifax could not restrain himself 
from shewing his contempt of it, in a saying that 
was much repeated: he said, the petitioners for a 
parliament spit in the king's face, but the ad- 
dressers spit in his mouth. As the country sent up 
addresses, so the town sent down pamphlets of all 
sorts, to possess the nation much against the late 
parliament : and the clergy struck up to a higher 
note, with such zeal for the duke's succession, as if 
a popish king had been a special blessing from hea- 
ven, to be much longed for by a protestant church. 
They likewise gave themselves such a loose against 
nonconformists, as if nothing was so formidable as 
that party : so that in all their sermons popery was 
quite forgot, and the force of their zeal was turned 
almost wholly against the dissenters ; who were now 
by order from the court to be proceeded against ac- 

T 3 


1681. cording to law. There was also a great change 

made in the commissions all England over : none 
were left either on the bench or in the militia, that 
did not with zeal go into the humour of the court. 
And such of the clergy as would not engage in that 
fury were cried out upon as the betrayers of the 
church, and as secret favourers of the dissenters. 
The truth is, the numbers of these were not great : 
one observed right, that according to the proverb in 
the Gospel, where the carcase is^ the eagles will be 
gathered together: the scent of preferment will 
draw aspiring men after it. 
Fitzharris's Fitzharris's trial came on in Easter term : Scroffsrs 

trial. ^° 

was turned out, and Pemberton was made chief jus- 
tice. His rise was so particular, that it is worth 
the being remembered : in his youth he mixed with 
such lewd company, that he quickly spent all he 
had ; and ran so deep in debt, that he was cast into 
a gaol, where he lay many years : but he followed 
his studies so close in the gaol, that he became one 
of the ablest men of his profession. He was not 
wholly for the court : he had been a judge before, 
502 and was turned out by Scroggs's means : and now 
• he was raised again, and was afterwards made chief 
justice of the other bench : but not being compliant 
enough, he was turned out a second time, when the 
court would be served by none but by men of a 
thoroughpaced obsequiousness. Fitzharris pleaded 
the impeachment in parliament : but since the lords 
had thrown that out, it was overruled. He pre- 
tended he could discover the secret of Godfrey's 
murder : he said, he heard the earl of Danby say at 
Windsor, that it must be done : but when the judge 
told the grand jury, that what was said at Windsor 


did not lie before them, Fitzharris immediately said, i68i- 
he had heard him say the same thing at Whitehall. 
This was very gross : yet upon so slight an evidence 
they found the bill against^he lord Danby. And 
when they were reproached with it, they said a du- 
bious evidence was a sufficient ground for a grand 
jury : yet another doctrine was set up by the same 
sort of men within a few months. 

Plunket, the popish primate of Armagh, was at Piun^et, an 
this time brought to his trial. Some lewd Irish shop, con- 
priests, and others of that nation, hearing that Eng- executed. 
land was at that time disposed to hearken to good 
swearers, thought themselves well qualified for the 
employment : so they came over to swear, that 
there was a great plot in Ireland, to bring over a 
French army, and to massacre all the English. 
The witnesses were brutal and profligate men : yet 
the eai'l of Shaftsbury cherished them much : they 
were examined by the parliament at Westminster : 
and what they said was believed. Upon that encou- 
ragement, it was reckoned that we should have wit- 
nesses come over in whole companies. Lord Essex 
told me, that this Plunket was a wise and sober 
man, who was always in a different interest from the • 
two Talbots ; the one of these being the titular arch- 
bishop of Dublin, and the other raised afterwards to 
be duke of Tirconnell. These were meddling and 
factious men ; whereas Plunket was for their living 
quietly, and in due submission to the government, 
without engaging into intrigues of state. Some of 
these priests had been censured by him for their 
lewdness : and they drew others to swear as they di- 
rected them. They had appeared the winter before 
upon a biU offered to the grand jury : but as the 

T 4 


J 681. foreman of the jury, who was a zealous protestant, 
told me, they contradicted one another so evidently, 
that they would not find the biU. But now they 
laid their story better jjipgether ; and swore against 
Plunket, that he had got a great bank of money to 
503 be prepared, and that he had an army listed, and 
was in a correspondence with France to bring over 
a fleet from thence. He had nothing to say in his 
own defence, but to deny all : so he was condemned ; 
and suflfered very decently, expressing himself in 
many particulars as became a bishop. He died de- 
nying every thing that had been sworn against him. 
Fitzharris was tried next : and the proof was so 
full, that he was cast. He moved in court that I 
might be ordered to come to him, upon what reason 
I could never imagine: a rule was made that I 
might speak to him in the presence of the Ueutenant 
of the tower. I went to him, and pressed him ve- 
hemently to tell the truth, and not to deceive him- 
self with false hopes. I charged him with the im- 
probabilities of his discovery ; and laid home to him 
the sin of perjury, chiefly in matters of blood, so 
fully, that the lieutenant of the tower made a very 
« just report of it to the king, as the king himself told 
me afterwards. When he saw there was no hope, 
he said the lord Howard was the author of the libel. 
Howard was so ill thought of, that, it being known 
that there was a familiarity between Fitzharris and 
him, it was apprehended from the beginning that he 
was concerned in it. I had seen him in lord How- 
ard's company, and had told him how indecent it 
was to have such a man about him : he said he was 
in want, and was as honest as his religion would 
suffer him to be. I found out afterwards, that he 


was a spy of the lady Portsmouth's: and that he 168I. 
had earned lord Howard to her : and, as lord How- 
ard himself told me, she brought the king to talk 
with him twice or thrice. The king, as he said, 
entered into a particular scheme with him of the 
new frame of his ministry in case of an agreement, 
which seemed to him to be very near. As soon as 
I saw the libel, I was satisfied that lord Howard was 
not concerned in it : it was so ill drawn, and so little 
disguised in the treasonable part, that none but a 
man of the lowest form could be capable of making 
it. The report of lord Howard's being charged with 
this was over the whole town a day before any war- 
rant was sent out against him ; which made it ap- 
pear, that the court had a mind to give him time to 
go out of the way. He came to me, and solemnly 
vowed he was not at all concerned in that matter : 
so I advised him not to stir from home. He was 
committed that night : I had no liking to the man's 
temjier : yet he insinuated himself so into me, that 
without being rude to him, it was not possible to 
avoid him. He was a man of a pleasant conversa-504 
tion : but he railed so indecently both at the king 
and the clergy, that I was very uneasy in his com- ^ 
pany : yet now, during his imprisonment, I did him 
all the service I could. But Algemoon Sidney took 
his concerns and his family so to heart, and ma- 
naged every thing relating to him with that zeal 
and that care, that none but a monster of ingrati- 
tude could have made him the return that he did 
afterwards. When the bill against lord Howard 
was brought to the grand jury, Fitzharris's wife and 
maid were the two witnesses against him : but they 
did so evidently forswear themselves, that the attorn 

his death. 


1681. ney general withdi*ew it. Lord Howard lay in the 

tower till the Michaelmas term ; and came out by 

Practices the habeas corpus. I went no more to Fitzharris : 
Harris a^ but Hawkins, the minister of the tower, took him 
into his management; and prevailed with him not 
only to deny all his former discovery, but to lay it 
on Clayton, Treby, and the sheriffs, as a suborna- 
tion of theirs, though it was evident that was im- 
possible to be true. Yet at the same time he writ 
letters to his wife, who was not then admitted to 
him, which I saw and read, in which he told her, 
how he was practised upon with the hopes of life. 
He charged her to swear falsely against none : one 
of these was writ that very morning in which he 
suffered : and yet before he was led out, he signed a 
new paper containing the former charge of suborna- 
tion, and put it in Hawkins's hands. And at Ty- 
burn he referred all he had to say to that paper, 
which was immediately published : but the falsehood 
of it was so very notorious, that it shewed what a 
sort of man Hawkins was : yet he was soon after 
rewarded for this with the deanery of Chichester. 
But when the court heard what letters Fitzharris 
had writ to his wife, they were confounded : and all 
further discourse about him was stifled. But the 
court practised on her by the promise of a pension 
so far, that she dehvered up her husband's letters to 
them. But so many had seen them before that, 
that this base practice turned much to the reproach 
of aU their proceedings ^. 

•^ She was recommended for of her case by a committee. O. 

some provision to king WiUiam (See Echard's account of Fitz- 

by the house of commons. See harris's behaviour when he suf- 

their Journal of 15 th of June fered, pp. 10 10, loii. of his 

1689, where there is a report History of England. Higgons 


Soon after this, Dugdale, Turbervill, Smith, and jggi. 

the Irish witnesses came under another manage- T 

ment ; and they discovered a plot laid against the s^*"* p"®*- 
king to be executed at Oxford. The king was to 
be killed, and the government was to be changed. 
One Colledge, a joiner by trade, was an active and 
hot man, and came to be known by the name of the 
Protestant joiner. He was first seized on : and the 
witnesses swore many treasonable speeches against 
him : he was believed to have spoken oft with great 505 
indecency of the king, and with a sort of threaten- 
ing, that they would make him pass the bill of ex- 
clusion. But a design to seize on the king was so 
notorious a falsehood, that, notwithstanding all that 
the witnesses swore, the grand jury returned igno- 
ramus upon the bill. Upon this the court cried out 
against the juries now returned, that they would not 
do the king justice, though the matter of the biU 
was sworn by witnesses whose testimony was weU 
believed a few months before : it was commonly 
said, these juries would believe every thing one 
way, and nothing the other. If they had found the 
bill, so that CoUedge had been tried upon it, he 
would have been certainly saved : but since the wit- 
nesses swore that he went to Oxford on that design, 
he was triable there. North went to Oxford, Col- 

observes, that " if the court " only in revenge, he would 

" through the influence of Dr. " certainly have told the truth, 

*• Hawkins had prevailed on " and discovered the knavery." 

" FityJiarris to accuse the she- Remarks on this Hist, p 230. 

" riffs falsely of subornation, But compare Hume's History 

"they must at least have of England, Charles H. p. 337. 

" tempted him with a promise And indeed no reliance is to be 

" of life ; afterwards, when placed on the testimony of such 

" they broke their word, and a notorious rogue either living 

" he came to die, if it were or dying.) 


i68i. ledge being carried thither: and he tried him there. 
North's behaviour in that whole matter was such, 


condemued, ^j^^^^ probablv, if hc had lived to see an impeach- 

and died r j 

upon it. ing parliament, he might have felt the Ul effects of 
it. The witnesses swore several treasonable words 
against Colledge, and that his coming to Oxford was 
in order to the executing these : so here was an 
over-act. Colledge was upon a negative : so he had 
nothing to say for himself, but to shew how little 
credit was due to the witnesses. He was con- 
demned, and suffered with great constancy, and 
with appearances of devotion. He denied all the 
treasonable matter that had been sworn against him, 
or that he knew of any plot against the king. He 
confessed, that a great heat of temper had carried 
him to many undutiful expressions of the king : but 
he protested he was in no design against him. And 
now the court intended to set the witnesses to swear 
against aU the hot party ; which was plainly nmrder 
in them, who believed them false witnesses, and yet 
made use of them to destroy others. One passage 
happened at CoUedge's trial which quite sunk Dug- 
dale's credit : it was objected to him by CoUedge, to 
take away his credit, that, when by his lewdness he 
had got the French pox, he to cover that gave it 
out that he was poisoned by papists : upon which 
he, being then in court, protested solemnly that he 
never had that disease ; and said, that if it could be 
proved by any physician that he ever had it, he was 
content that all the evidence he had ever given 
should be discredited for ever. And he was taken 
at his word : for Lower, who was then the most ce- 
lebrated physician in London, proved at the coun- 
cil-board that he had been under cure in his hands 


for that disease; which was made out both by his 168I. 
bills, and by the apothecary that served them. So 77^ 
he was never more heard of. 

The earl of Shaftsbury was committed next, and shaftsbury 
sent to the tower upon the evidence of the Irish tower!* 
witnesses. His papers were at the same time seized 
on and searched : nothing material was found among 
them, but a draught of an association, by which the 
king, if it had taken place, would have reigned only 
at the discretion of the party. This was neither 
writ nor marked in any place with his hand : but, 
when there was a talk of an association, some had 
formed this paper, and brought it to him ; of which 
he always professed, after the matter was over, that 
he remembered nothing at all. So it is probable, 
that, as is ordinary when any great business is be- 
fore the parliament, that zealous men are at the 
doors with their several draughts, this was one of 
these cast carelessly by, and not thought on by him 
when he had sent his more valuable papers out of 
the way. There was likewise but one witness that 
could swear to its being found there : and that was 
the clerk of the council, who had perused those pa- 
pers without marking them in the presence of any 
witness, as taken among lord Shaftsbury's papers. 

There was all this summer strange practising with Practice 

. !» 1 • I • iTT'it • upon wit- 

witnesses to find more matter against him : Wilkm- news, 
son, a prisoner for debt that had been often with 
him, was dealt with to accuse him. The court had 
found out two solicitors to manage such matters, 
Burton and Graham, who were indeed fitter men to 
have served in a court of inquisition than in a legal 
government. It was known, that lord Shaftsbury 
was apt to talk very freely, and without discretion : 


168I. so the two solicitors sought out all that had fre- 
quented his company ; and tried what they could 
draw from them, not by a barefaced subornation, but 
by teUing them, they knew well that lord Shaftsbury 
had talked such and such things, which they named, 
that were plainly treasonable; and they required 
them to attest it, if they did ever hear such things 
from him : and they made them great promises upon 
their telUng the truth. So that they gave hints and 
made promises to such as by swearing boldly would 
deserve them, and yet kept themselves out of dan- 
ger of subornation, having witnesses in some corner 
of their chambers that overheard all their discourse. 
This was their common practice, of which I had a 
particular account from some whom they examined 
507 with relation to my self. In aU this foul dealing the 
king himself was believed to be the chief director : 
and lord Halifax was thought deep in it, though he 
always expressed an abhorrence of such practices 
to me. 
I was then His rcsentmeuts wrought so violently on him, 
fementr^ that he sccmcd to be gone off from aU his former 
notions. He pressed me vehemently to accept of 
preferment at court ; and said, if I would give him 
leave to make promises in my name, he could obtain 
for me any preferment I pleased. But I would enter 
into no engagements. I was contented with the 
condition I was in, which was above necessity, 
though below envy : the mastership of the temple 
was like to fall, and I liked that better than any 
thing else. So both lord Halifax and lord Clarendon 
moved the king in it. He promised I should have 
it. Upon which lord Halifax carried me to the 
king. I had reason to believe that he was highly 


displeased with me for what I had done a year be- 168I. 
fore. Mrs. Roberts, whom he had kept for some 
time, sent for me when she was a dying : I saw her 
(rflen for some weeks, and among other things I de- 
sired her to write a letter to the king, expressing 
the sense she had of her past life : and at her de- 
sire I drew such a letter, as might be fit for her to 
write : but she never had strength enough to write 
it : so upon that I resolved to write a very plain let- 
ter to the king : I set before him his past life, and 
the effects it had on the nation, with the judgments 
of God that lay on him, which was but a small part 
of the punishment that he might look for : I pressed 
him upon that earnestly to change the whole course 
of his life : I carried this letter to Chiffinch's on the 
twenty-ninth of January ; and told the king in the 
letter, that I hoped the reflections on what had be- 
fallen his father on the thirtieth of January, might 
move him to consider these things more carefully ''. 
Lord Arran happened to be then in waiting: and 
he came to me next day, and told me, he was sure 
the king had a long letter from me ; for he held the 
candle to him while he read it : he knew at all that 
distance that it was my hand: the king read it 
twice over, and then threw it into the fire : and not 
long after lord Arran took occasion to name me: 
and the king spoke of me with great sharpness : so 
he perceived that he was not pleased with my letter. 
Nor was the king pleased with my being sent for by 
Wilmot earl of Rochester, when he died : he fan- 
cied, that he had told me many things, of which I 

<■ (This letter to the king bishop, affixed to this History, 
was printed by his son, sir Tho- p. 686.) 
mas Burnet, in his life of the 


1681. might make an ill use: yet he had read the book 

that I writ concerning him, and spoke well of it. 

508 In this state I was in the king's thoughts, when lord 

Halifax Halifax carried me to him, and introduced me with 

earned me ' 

to the king, a very extraordinary compliment, that he did not 
bring me to the king to put me in his good opinion, 
so much as to put the king in my good opinion : 
and added, he hoped that the king would not only 
take me into his favour, but into his heart. The 
king had a peculiar faculty of saying obliging things 
with a very good grace : among other things he 
said, he knew that, if I pleased, I could serve him 
very considerably ; and that he desired no service 
from me longer than he continued true to the church 
and to the law. Lord Halifax upon that added, 
that the king knew he served him on the same 
terms, and was to make his stops. The king and 
he feU into some discourse about religion. Lord 
Halifax said to the king, that he was the head of 
his church : to which the king answered, that he 
did not desire to be the head of nothing ; for indeed 
he was of no church. From that the king run out 
into much discourse about lord Shaftsbury, who was 
shortly to be tried : he complained with great scorn 
of the imputation of subornation that was cast on 
himself. He said, he did not wonder that the earl 
of Shaftsbury, who was so guilty of those practices, 
should fasten them on others. [And he used upon 
that a Scots proverb very pleasantly, " At dooms- 
" day we shall see whose a — is blackest."] The 
discourse lasted half an hour very hearty and free : 
so I was in favour again. But I could not hold it. 
I was told I kept ill company : the persons lord Ha- 
lifax named to me were the earl of Essex, lord Rus- 


sel, and Jones. But I said, I would upon no consi- 168I. 
deration give over conversing with my friends : so I — — ^ 
was where I was before. 

A bill of indictment was presented to the grand shafubury 

was acquit- 

jury against lord Shaftsbury. The jury was com- ted by the 
posed of many of the chief citizens of London. The ^™" ^"'^' 
witnesses were examined in open court, contrary to 
the usual custom : the witnesses swore many in- 
credible things against him, mixed with other things 
that looked very like his extravagant way of talk- 
ing. The draught of the association was also brought 
as a proof of his treason, though it was not laid in 
the indictment, and was proved only by one witness. 
The jury returned ignoramus upon the bill. Upon 
this the court did declaim with open mouth against 
these juries ; in which, they said, the spirit of the 
party did appear, since men even upon oath shewed 
they were resolved to find bills (true) or ignoramus^ as 
they pleased, without regarding the evidence. And 
upon this a new set of addresses went round the 
kingdom, in which they expressed their abhorrence 509 
of that association found in lord Shaftsbury's cabi- 
net; and complained, that justice was denied the 
king ; which were set off with all the fulsome rhe- 
toric that the penners coidd varnish them with. 
[These were generally believed to be penned by the 
clergy : among whom the duke's health was always 
drunk with repeated shouts and huzzas : to which 
another health, " To the confusion of all his ene- 
mies," was commonly added.] It was upon this oc- 
casion said, that the grand jury ought to find bills 
even upon dubious evidence, much more when plain 
treason was sworn ; since all they did in finding a 
bill was only to bring the person to his trial, and 


1681. then the falsehood of the witnesses was to be de- 
tected. But in defence of these ignoramus juries 
it was said, that by the express words of their oath 
they were bound to make true presentments of what 
should appear true to therti : and therefore, if they 
did not believe the evidence, they could not find a 
bill, though sworn to. A book was writ to support 
that, in which both law and reason were brought to 
confirm it : it passed as writ by lord Essex, though 
I understood afterwards it was writ by Somers^, 
who was much esteemed and often visited by lord 
Essex, and who trusted himself to him, and writ 
the best papers that came out in that time. It is 
true, by the practice that had generally prevailed, 
grand juries were easy in finding bills upon a slight 
and probable evidence. But it was made out, that 
the words of their oath, and the reason of the law, 
seemed to oblige them to make no presentments but 
such as they believed to be true. On the other 
hand, a private iU opinion of a witness, or the look- 
ing on a matter as incredible, did not seem to war- 
rant the return of an ignoramus: that seemed to 
belong to the jury of life and death. The chief 
complaint that was made in the addresses was 
grounded on their not finding the bill on the ac- 
count of the draught of the association : and this 
was in many respects very unreasonable. For as 
that was not laid in the bill, so there was but one 
witness to prove it ; nor did the matter of the paper 
rise up to the charge of high treason. And now 
Dugdale and Turbervill, who had been the witnesses 
upon whose evidence lord Stafford was condemned, 

ijj... * Lord Somers. S. 


being within a year detected, or at least suspected 1681. 
of this villany, I could not but reflect on what he 
said to me, that he was confident I should see within 
a year that the witnesses would be found to be 

As to Turbervill, what happened soon after this 1682. 
will perhaps mitigate the censure: he was taken j^/t^!"'" * 
with the small pox in a few days after lord Shafts- 
bury's trial. The symptoms were so bad, that the 
physician told him he had no hope of his recovery : 
upon which he composed himself to die as became 510 
a Christian, and sent for Mr. Hewes, the curate of 
St. Martin's, who was a very worthy man, and from 
whom I had this account of him. Turbervill looked 
on himself as a dead man at the first time he came 
•to him : but his disease did no way affect his under- 
standing or his memory. He seemed to have a 
real sense of another state, and of the account that 
he was to give to God for his past life. Hewes 
charged him to examine himself; and if he had 
sworn falsely against any man, to confess his sin, 
and glorify God, though to his own shame. Tur- 
bervill, both in discourse, and when he received the 
sacrament, protested that he had sworn nothing but 
the truth, in what he deposed both against lord 
Stafford and the earl of Shaftsbury ; and renounced 
the mercies of God, and the benefit of the death of 
Christ, if he did not speak the plain and naked truth 
without any reservation : and he continued in the 
same mind to his death. So here were the last 
words of dying men against the last words of those 
that suffered. To this may well be added, that one 
who died of sickness, and under a great depression 

u 2 


1682. in his spirits, was less able to stifle his conscience, 
and resist the impressions that it might then make 
on him, than a man who suffers on a scaffold, where 
the strength of the natural spirits is entire, or rather 
exalted by the sense of the cause he suffers for. 
And we know that confession and absolution in the 
church of Rome give a quiet, to which we do not 
pretend, where these things are said to be only mi- 
nisterial, and not authoritative^. About a year be- 
fore this, Tonge had died, who first brought out 
Oates. They quarrelled afterwards : and Tonge 
came to have a very bad opinion of Oates ; upon 
what reason I know not s. He died with expressions 
of a very high devotion : and he protested to all who 
came to see him, that he knew of no subornation in 
all that matter, and that he was guilty of none him- 
self. These things put a man quite in the dark : 
and in this mist matters must be left till the great 
revelation of all secrets. And there I leave it : and 
from the affairs of England turn to give an account 
of what passed in Scotland during this disorder 
among us here. 
The afiFairs Thg dukc bchavcd Mmsclf upon his first ffoinsr to 

of Scotland. ^ ^ .. 

Scotland in so obliging a manner, that the nobility 
and gentry, who had been so long trodden on by 
duke Lauderdale and his party, found a very sensi- 
ble change: so that he gained much on them all. 
He continued still to support that side : yet things 
511 were so gently carried, that there was no cause of 
complaint. It was visibly his interest to make that 

^ (Compare what is said be- at which Dr. Burnet is supposed 

fore of Turbervill, p. 489.) to have been present. Remarks, 

° (Higgons transcribes an ac- p. 231. This curious and not 

count from Echard of a quar- improbable anecdote is to be 

rel between Tonge and Oates, found in Echard'sHist. p.949.)" 


nation sure to him, and to give them such an essay 1682. 
of his government, as might dissipate all the hard ^~~ 
thoughts of him with which the world was possessed: 
and he pursued this for some time with great tem- 
per and as great success. He advised the bishops to 
proceed moderately, and to take no notice of con- 
venticles in houses ; and that would put an end to 
those in the fields. In matters of justice he shewed 
an impartial temper, and encouraged all propositions 
relating to trade : and so, considering how much 
that nation was set against his religion, he made a 
greater progi'ess in gaining upon them than was ex- 
pected^'. He was advised to hold a parliament 
there in summer eighty-one, and to take the charac- 
ter of the king's commissioner upon himself. 

A strange spirit of fury had broke loose on some 
of the presbyterians, called Cargillites, from one Car- 
giU that had been one of the ministers of Glasgow 
in the former times, and was then very little consi- 
dered, but now was much followed, to the great re- 
proach of the nation. These held that the king had 
lost the right of the crown by his breaking the cove- 
nant, which he had sworn at his coronation : so they 

*" Id a letter (to the first lord " have shewed n»y partiality 

Dartmouth) dated the 14th of " for them, and some of my 

December, the duke says, " I " friends have been of opinion 

" live here as cautiously as I " it had been best for me to 

" can, and am very careful to " have done so, and by it have 

" give offence to none, and to " secured one side to me, yet 

" have no partiality, and preach " I am convinced it was not 

" to them laying aside all pri- " fit for me to do it, being no 

'* vate animosities, and serving " way good for his Majesty's 

•' the king his own way. None ** service, which 1 can make 

•' shall have reason to com- " out by many reasons which 

" plain of me; and though *' would be too long for a let- 

*' some of either party here " ter." D. 
" might have hoped I should 

U 3 


i6S2. said, he was their king no more : and by a formal 
declaration they renounced aU allegiance to him, 
which a party of them affixed to the cross of Dun- 
freis, a town near the west border. [They also 
taught, that it was lawful for any to kill him ; and 
that aU his party, chiefly those who were episcopal, 
by adhering to him, had forfeited their lives ; so 
that it was lawful to kill them likewise.] The 
guards fell upon a party of them, whom they found 
in arms, where Cameron, one of their furious teach- 
ers, (from whom they were also called Cameronians,) 
was killed : but Hackston, that was one of the arch- 
bishop's murderers, and CargiU, were taken. Hack- 
ston, when brought before the council, would not 
own their authority, nor make any answer to their 
questions. He was so low by reason of his wounds, 
that it was thought he would die in the question if 
tortured : so he was in a very summary way con- 
demned to have both his hands cut off, and then to 
be hanged. All this he suffered with a constancy 
that amazed all people: he seemed to be all the 
while as in an enthusiastical rapture, and insensible 
of what was done to him. When his hands were 
cut off, he asked, like one unconcerned, if his feet 
must be cut off likewise : and he had so strong a 
heart, that notwithstanding all the loss of blood by 
his wounds, and the cutting off his hands, yet when 
he was hanged up, and his heart cut out, it con- 
tinued to palpitate some time after it was on the 
hangman's knife, as some eye-witnesses assured me. 
512 CargiU, and many others of that mad sect, both men 
and women, suffered with an obstinacy that was so 
particular, that though the duke sent the offer of 
pardon to them on the scaffold, if they would only 


say God bless the King, it was refused with great i682. 
neglect : one of them, a woman, said very calmly, 
she was sure God would not bless him, and that 
therefore she would not take God's name in vain : 
another said more sullenly, that she would not wor- 
ship that idol, nor acknowledge any other king but 
Christ : and so lx)th were hanged. About fifteen or 
sixteen died under this delusion, which seemed to 
be a sort of madness : for they never attempted any 
thing against any person : only they seemed glad to 
suffer for their opinions '. The duke stopped that 
prosecution, and appointed them to be put in a house 
of correction, and to be kept at hard labour. Great 
use was made of this by profane people to dispa- 
rage the suffering of the martyrs for the Christian 
faith, from the unshaken constancy which these 
frantic people expressed. But this is undeniable, 
that men who die maintaining any opinion, shew 
that they are firmly persuaded of it : so from this 
the martyrs of the first age, who died for asserting a 
matter of fact, such as the resurrection of Christ, or 
the miracles that they had seen, shewed that they 
were well persuaded of the truth of those facts. 
And that is all the use that is to be made of this 
argument. ^• 

Now the time of the sitting of the parliament a parii»- 
drew on. The duke seeing how great a man the s<»tialid. 
earl of Argyle was in Scotland, concluded it was ne- 

' (Salmon, in his Examination of them was a murderer of the 
of this Hist. p. 896, observes, archbishopof St. Andrew's. But 
that the author had told us, this examiner is silent respect- 
that this harmless sort of peo- ing the systematic persecution 
pie had assembled in arms, by which these people were 
publicly renounced their alle- goaded on to rebellion.) 
giance to the king, and that one 

U 4 

1682. cessary for him either to gain him or to ruin him. 

Lord Argyle gave him all possible assurances that 
he would adhere to his interest in every thing, ex- 
cept in the matters of religion : but added, that if he 
went to meddle with these, he owned to him freely 
that he would oppose him all he could. This was 
weU enough taken in shew : but lord Argyle said, 
he observed ever after that such a visible coldness 
and distrust, that he saw what he might expect 
from him. Some moved the excepting against the 
duke's commission to represent the king in parlia- 
ment, since by law no man could execute any office 
without taking the oaths : and above forty members 
of parliament promised to stick to duke Hamilton 
if he would insist on that. But Lockhart and Cun- 
ningham, the two lawyers on whose opinion they 
depended chiefly, said, that a commission to repre- 
sent the king's person fell not under the notion of 
an office : and since it was not expressly named in 
the acts of parliament, they thought it did not fall 
513 within the general words of all places and offices of 
trust. So this was laid aside : and many who were 
offended at it complained of duke Hamilton's cow- 
ardice'*. He said for himself, he had been in a 
storm of seven years' continuance by his opposing 
duke Lauderdale, and that he would not engage in 
a new one with a stronger party, unless he was sure 
of the majority : and they were far from pretending 

•'Theduke(ofYork,)inalet- "and hope before this can 

ter dated the 28th of Nov. says, " come to you that his majesty 

" I believe you will have heard " will have settled it as I de- 

" of a difficulty made by some " sire, and I believe that those 

•* here, about my sitting in " that made that difficulty are 

♦' council. I had not time to " sorry to have done it." D. 
" write to you of it till now, 


to be able to bring matters to near an equality. The 1682. 
first act that passed was one of three lines, confirm- 
ing all the laws formerly made against popery : the 
duke thought it would give a good grace to all that 
should be done afterwards, to begin with such a ge- 
neral and cold confirmation of all former laws. Some 
moved, that a committee might be appointed to ex- 
amine all the former laws, (since some of them 
seemed unreasonably severe, as passed in the first I ft 
heat of the reformation,) that so they might draw 
out of them all such as might be fit, not only to be 
confirmed, but to be executed by better and properer 
methods than those prescribed in the former statutes, 
which had been all eluded. But it was not intended 
that this new confirmation should have any effect : 
and therefore this motion was not hearkened to. 
But the act was hurried on, and passed. 

The next act was for the unalterableness of the 
succession of the crown. It was declared high trea- 
son ever to move for any alterations in it. Lord 
Argyle ran into this with zeal : so did duke Hamil- 
ton : and all others that intended to merit by it 
made harangues about it. Lord Tweedale was the 
only man that ventured to move, that the act might 
be made as strict as was possible with relation to the 
duke : but he thought it not necessary to carry it 
further ; since the queen of Spain stood so near the 
succession, and it was no amiable thing to be a pro- 
vince to Spain. Many were so ignorant, as not to 
understand the relation of the queen of Spain to the 
king, though she was his niece, and thought it an 
extravagant motion. He was not seconded: and 
the act passed without one contradictory vote. There 
'was an additional revenue given for some years for 


i682. keeping up more troops. Some complaints were also 
made of the lords of regalities, who have all the for- 
feitures and the j^ower of life and death within their 
regalities. It was upon that promised, that there 
should be a regulation of these courts, as there was 
indeed great cause for it, these lords being so many 
tyrants up and down the country : so it was intended 
to subject these jurisdictions to the supreme judica- 
514 tones. But the act was penned in such words, as 
imported that the whole course of justice all over 
the kingdom was made subject to the king's wiU 
and pleasure : so that instead of appeals to the su- 
preme courts, all was made to end in a personal ap- 
peal to the king : and by this means he was made 
master of the whole justice and property of the 
kingdom. There was not much time given to consider 
things : for the duke, finding that he was master of 
a clear majority, drove on every thing fast, and put 
biUs on a very short debate to the vote, which went 
always as he had a mind to it. An accident hap- 
pened, that begot in many a particular zeal to merit 
at his hands : lord Rothes, who had much of his 
confidence, and was chiefly trusted by him, and was 
made a duke by his means, [fell under a perpetual 
coldness in his stomach, which was the effect of 
thirty years' intemperance to a degree beyond what 
had ever been known in that country. He] died the 
day before the opening of the parliament : so upon 
the hopes of succeeding him, as there were many 
pretenders, they tried who could deserve it best by 
the most compliant submission and the most active 

Several ac- Zeal. * 

pSi^'rtu ^'^ *^^y ^^^^ going on in public business, one 
fled by the stood up in parliament and accused lord Halton, 



duke Lauderdale's brother, of perjury, on the ac- i682. 

count of Mitchell's business ' : he had in his hands 

the two letters that lord Halton had writ to the earl 
of Kincardin, mentioning the promise of life that 
was made him : and, as was told formerly, lord Hal- 
ton swore at his trial that no promise was made. 
The lord Kincardin was dead a year before this : 
but his lady had delivered those letters to be made 
use of against lord Halton. Upon reading them, the 
matter appeared plain. The duke was not ill pleased 
to have both duke Lauderdale and him thus at 
mercy : yet he would not suffer the matter to be de- 
termined in a parliamentary way : so he moved, that 
the whole thing might be referred to the king; 
which was immediately agreed to. So that infa- 
mous business was made public, and yet stifled at 
the same time : and no censure was ever put on that 
base action '". Another discovery was made of as 
wicked a conspiracy, though it had not such bad ef- 

1 (See before, p. 41 2 — 417.) favour of his lordship's grand- 
"" (In page 416 of this work, son, Jaraes Boswell, esquire, of 
where mention is made of Mit- the Middle Temple, a gentle- 
chell's unhappy business, it is man well known by his own 
related, that lord Kincardine and his father's merits. " The 
sent a bishop to duke Lauder- " bishop who was sent by my 
dale, desiring him to consider " lord Kincardine was Pater- 
better, before he denied upon " son, bishop of Edinburgh, 
oath the promise of life which " and those very letters were 
had been given to Mitchell, be- " the cause of Lauderdale's dis- 
cause lord Kincardine had let- •' grace. For when the duke 
ters from the duke and the " of York was in Scotland, he 
duke's brother in his posses- " sent for my lady Kincardine, 
sion, which requested him to " and asked these letters of her. 
ask the king to make good '♦ My lady told the duke, she 
the promise. On which place *' would not part with the ori- 
of bishop Burnet's History the " ginals ; but that, if his grace 
late lord Auchinlech, who was " pleased, he might take a copy 
grandson of lady Kincardine, "of them. Which he did, and 
has written the following ob- '* shewed them to his brother 
servation, inserted here by the " the king, who was stunned at 


id62. fects, because the tools employed in it could not be 
wrought up to such a determined pitch of wicked- 
ness. The lord Bargeny, who was nephew to duke 
Hamilton, had been clapt up in prison, as concerned 
in the rebellion of Both well-bridge. Several days 
were fixed on for his trial : but it was always put off. 
And at last he was let out without having any one 
thing ever objected to him. When he was at li- 
berty, he used all possible endeavours to find out on 
what grounds he had been committed. At last he dis- 
covered a conspiracy, in which Halton and some 
515 others of that party were concerned : they had prac- 
tised on some, who had been in that rebellion, to 
swear that he and several others were engaged in it, 
and that they had sent them out to join in it. They 
promised these witnesses a large share of the confis- 
cated estates, if they went through in the business. 
Depositions were prepared for them : and they pro- 
mised to swear them : upon which a day was fixed 
for their trial. But the hearts of those witnesses 
failed them, or their consciences rose upon them : so 
that when the day came on, they could not bring 
themselves to swear against an innocent man : and 
plainly refused to do it : yet, upon new practices and 
new hopes, they again resolved to swear boldly : 
upon which new days had been set twice or thrice : 
and, their hearts turning against it, they were still 
put off. Lord Bargeny had fuU proofs of all this 
ready to be offered: but the duke prevailed to have 
this likewise referred to the king : and it was never 
more heard of This shewed what duke Lauder- 

*• the villany, and ashamed he "his posts and preferments to 
" had employed such a minister; " be taken from him.") 
" and immediately ordered all 


dale's party were capable of. It likewise gave an ill 1682. 
character of the duke's zeal for justice, and against — — — 
false swearing ; though that had been the chief to- 
pic of discourse with him for a])ove three years. He 
was angry at a supposed practice with witnesses, 
when it fell upon his own party : but now that there 
were evident proofs of perjury and subornation, he 
stopt proceedings under pretence of referring it to 
the king : who was never made acquainted with it, 
or at least never inquired after the proof of these alle- 
gations, nor ordered any proceedings upon them. 

The main business of this parliament was the act a test en- 

acted ia 

concerning the new test that was proposed. It had parliament. 
been promised in the beginning of the session, that 
as soon as an act for maintaining the succession 
should pass, they should have all the security that 
they could desire for the protestant religion. So^ 
many zealous men began to call for some more ef- 
fectual security for their religion : upon which a test 
was proposed for all that should be capable of any 
office in church or state, or of electing, or being 
elected, members of parliament, that they should ad- 
here firmly to the protestant religion ; to which the 
court party added, the condemning of all resistance 
in any sort, or under any pretence, the renouncing 
the covenant, and an obligation to defend all the 
king's rights and prerogatives, and that they should 
never meet to treat of any matter, civil or ecclesiasti- 
cal, but by the king's permission, and never endea- 
vour any alteration in the government in church or 516 
state ; and they were to swear all this according to 
the literal sense of the words. The test was thus 
loaded at first to make the other side grow weary 
of the motion, and let it fall, which they would 


1682. willingly have done. But the duke was made to 
apprehend, that he would find such a test as this 
prove much for his service : so it seems that article 
of the protestant religion was forgiven for the ser- 
vice that was expected from the other parts of the 
test. There was a hot debate upon the imposing it 
on all that might elect or be elected members of 
parliament : it was said, that was the most essential 
of all the privileges of the subjects, therefore they 
ought not to be limited in it. The bishops were 
earnest for this, which they thought would secure 
them for ever from a presbyterian parliament. It 
was carried in the vote : and that made many of the 
court more zealous than ever for carrying through 
the act ". Some proposed that there should be two 
tests : one for papists with higher incapacities : and 
another for presbyterians with milder censures. But 
that was rejected with much scorn, some making 
their court by saying, they were more in danger 
from the presbyterians than from the papists : and it 
was reported that Paterson, then bishop of Eden- 
burgh, said to the duke, that he thought the two re- 
ligions, popish and protestant, were so equally stated 
in his mind, that a few grains of loyalty, in which 
the protestants had the better of the papists, turned 
the balance with him. Another clause in the bill 
was liable to great objections : all the royal family 
were excepted out of it. Lord Argyle spoke zea- 
lously against this : he said, the only danger we 
could apprehend as to popery was, if any of the royal 
family should happen to be perverted : therefore he 
thought it was better to have no act at all than such 

° And it was very reasonable. S. 


a clause in it. Some few seconded him : but it was 1692. 

carried without any considerable opposition. The 

nicest point of all was, what definition or standard 
should be made for fixing the sense of so general a 
term, as the protestant religion. Dalrymple pro- 
posed the confession of faith agreed on in the year 
one thousand five hundred fifty-nine, and enacted in 
parliament in one thousand five hundred sixty-seven, 
which was the only confession of faith that had then 
the sanction of a law. That was a book so worn 
out of use, that scarce any one in the whole parlia- 
ment had ever read it : none of the bishops had, as 
appeared afterwards. For these last thirty years the 
only confession of faith that was read in Scotland, 517 
was that which the assembly of divines at West- 
minster, anno 1648, had set out, which the Scot- 
ish kirk had set up instead of the old one : and the 
bishops had left it in possession, though the author- 
ity that enacted it was annulled. So here a book 
was made the matter of an oath, (for they were to 
swear that they would adhere to the protestant re- 
ligion, as it was declared in the confession of faith en- 
acted in the year 1567, that contained a large system 
of religion, that was not so much as known to those 
who enacted it, yet the bishops went all into it. Dal- 
rymple, who had read it, thought there were proposi- 
tions in it, which being better considered of would 
make the test be let fall : for in it the repressing of 
tyranny is reckoned a duty incumbent on good sub- 
jects. And the confession being made after the 
Scots had deposed the queen regent, and it being 
ratified in parliament after they had forced their 
queen Mary to resign, it was very plain what they 
who made and enacted this confession meant by the 


1682. repressing of tyranny. But the duke and his party 
set it on so earnestly, that upon one day's debate the 
act passed, though only by a majority of seven voices. 
There was some appearance of security to the pro- 
testant religion by this test : but the prerogative of 
the crown in ecclesiastical matters had been raised so 
high by duke Lauderdale's act, that the obliging all 
people to maintain that with the rest of the preroga- 
tive might have made way for every thing. All 
ecclesiastical courts subsisted now by this test only 
upon the king's permission, and at his discretion. 

The parliament of Scotland was dissolved soon 
after this act passed : and Hyde was sent down from 
the king to the duke immediately upon it. It was 
given out, that he was sent by the king to press the 
duke upon this victory to shew, that what ill usage 
could not extort from him, he would now do of his 
own accord, and return to the church of England. 
I was assured, that lord Halifax had prevailed with 
the king to write to him to that purpose : the letter 
was writ, but was not sent : but lord Hyde had it in 
charge to manage it as a message °. How much of 

" I have a letter of the duke's, " never be brought to do it, and 

dated Dec. 14th, in which he " therefore am glad to see that 

says, " Besides that in con- " the thoughts of his majesty's 

" science I cannot do what you " writing to me upon that sub- 

" so press me to, it would not " ject is laid aside ; for should 

" be of that use or advantage " he be prevailed upon to do it, 

" to his majesty as some think. " one might easily guess what 

" For the Shaftsburian and re- " would soon follow after, 

"publican party would say. it "Therefore let all my friends 

*' was only a trick, that I had a " see to hinder such a letter, 

" dispensation, and that I was " and put the thoughts of my 

" still a catholic in my heart ; " complying with them in that 

" and say, that there was more " point of changing my reli- 

" reason to be atfeared of po- " gion quite out of their heads." 

" pery than ever. The reasons D. 
" are obvious; besides, I will 


this is true I cannot tell : one thing is certain, that 1682. 
if it was true it had no effect p. 

As soon as the test with the confession of faith 
was printed, there was a universal murmuring among 
the best of the clergy. Many were against the 
swearing to a system made up of so many proposi- 
tions, of which some were at least doubtful; though 518 
it was found to be much more moderate in many 
points, than could have been well expected, consider- 
ing the heat of that time. There was a limitation 
put on the duty of subjects in the article, by which 
they were required not to resist any whom God had 
placed in authority, in these words, while they pass 
not the bounds of their office : and in another they 
condemned those who resist the supreme power do- 
ing that thing which appertaineth to his charge. 
These were propositions now of a very ill sound : object 
they were also highly offended at the great extent of JJjf.' 
the prerogative in the point of supremacy, by which 
the king turned bishops out at pleasure by a letter. 
It was hard enough to bear this : but it seemed in- 
tolerable to oblige men by oath to maintain it. The 
king might by a proclamation put down even episco- 
pacy itself, as the law then stood : and by this oath 
they would be bound to maintain that. All meet- 
ing in synods, or for ordinations, were hereafter to 
be held only by permission : so that all tlie visible 
ways of preserving religion depended now wholly on 

P I have a letter of the duke's, " much; since I cannot do it; 

in which are these words: "for indeed I see nothing but 

" What you hint to me in your " ruin when such measures are 

" letter, and what lord Halifax " taken, as produced such a mea- 

" in his has more plainly said, " sage to me, when there was 

" and has been pressed by lord " no reason to believe I would 

" Hyde, concerning my going to "comply." D. 
" church, has mortified me very 


made to tbe 


i682. the king's good pleasure: and they saw that this 
would be a very feeble tenure under a popish king. 
The being tied to all this by oath seemed very hard. 
And when a church was yet in so imperfect a state, 
without liturgy or discipUne, it was a strange impo- 
sition to make people swear, never to endeavour any 
alteration either in church or state. Some or all of 
these exceptions did run so generally through the 
whole body of the clergy, that they were all shaking 
in their resolutions. To prevent this, an explanation 
was drawn by bishop Paterson, and passed in council. 
It was by it declared, that it was not meant that 
those who took the test should be bound to every 
article in the confession of faith, but only in so far as 
it contained the doctrine upon which the protestant 
churches had settled the reformation : and that the 
test did not cut off those rights, which were acknow- 
ledged to have been in the primitive church for the 
first three hundred years after Christ: and an as- 
surance was given, that the king intended never to 
change the government of the church. By this it 
was pretended that the greatest difficulties were now 
removed. But to this it was answered, that they 
were to swear they took the oath in the literal sense 
of the words. So that, if this explanation was not 
conform to the literal sense, they would be perjured 
who took it upon this explanation. The imposers of 
an oath could only declare the sense of it: but that 
could not be done by any other, much less by a lower 
519 authority, such as the privy council's was confessed 
to be. Yet when men are to be undone if they do 
not submit to a hard law, they willingly catch at 

Many turn- any thing that seems to resolve their doubts. 

iiot"teking About eighty of the most learned and pious of 



their clergy left all, rather than comply with the 1662. 
terms of this law : and these were noted to be the 
best preachers, and the most zealous enemies to 
popery, that belonged to that church. The bishops, 
who thought their refusing the test was a reproach 
to those who took it, treated them with much con- 
tempt, and put them to many hardships. About 
twenty of them came up to England ^ : I found 
them men of excellent tempers, pious and learned, 
and I esteemed it no small happiness that I had then 
so much credit by the iU opinion they had of me at 
court, that by this means I got most of them to be 
well settled in England ; where they have behaved 
themselves so worthily, that I have great reason to 
rejoice in being made an instrument to get so many 
good men, who suffered for their consciences, to be 
again well employed and well provided for. Most 
of them were formed by Charteris, who had been 
always a great enemy to the imposing of books and 
systems as tests that must be signed and sworn by 
such as are admitted to serve in the church. He 
had been for some years divinity professor at Eden- 
burgh, where he had formed the minds of many of 
the young clergy both to an excellent temper and 
to a set of very good principles. He upon this re- 
tired, and lived private for some years : he writ to 
me, and gave me an account of this breach tliat was 
like to be in the church : and desired that I would 
try, by all the methods I could think of, to stop the 
proceedings upon the test. But the king had put the 
affairs of Scotland so entirely in the duke's hands, 
and the bishops here were so pleased with those 
clauses in the test that renounced the covenant and 
all endeavours for any alteration in church and 
1 Enough to corrupt England. S. 


1082. state, that I saw it was in vain to make any at- 
tempt at court. [I therefore wished, that they in 
Scotland would go as far as they could with a good 
conscience in compliance with the law, and not 
bring a church already rent with schisms under new 
distractions, if it was possible to avoid them. At 
the same time duke Hamilton wrote to me, for my 
opinion concerning the test. I answered him, that 
I thought the objections to it were managed with 
too much subtilty. I did not carry these things 
so far as others did. If it was against his con- 
science, I prayed him to have no regard to his in- 
terest, and upon no account take any oath, till he 
was satisfied it was lawful. But if he had no scru- 
ple in his own mind about it, and only pretended 
that to gratify a party, I said that, as that would 
be a mocking of God, so he would be made uneasy 
in it. For lord Halifax assured me, that he was 
looked on as a man that was setting himself, at the 
head of the party in opposition to the government, 
and he might easily foresee what the consequence 
of that would be. He stood in suspense for some 
months; yet took it at last. And for that I was 
much blamed by the party. It was said my letter 
determined him. I also wrote a paper to answer 
the objections raised to the test, which was sent 
about among my friends. For though I did not 
like it, and should never have consented to the 
making of it; yet I wished that all bad scruples 
about it might have been satisfied, and that these 
worthy clergymen, who were turned out upon it, 
and who were the ablest men in that church, and 
the fittest to make a stand against popery, might 
return to their labours. Yet so ill was I repre- 
sented upon that occasion, that the duke was made 


believe, that I was a great stickler in aU the oppo- 1682. 
sition that was made to the test, and he possessed ' 
the king with it.] 

Upon this matter an incident of great importance Argiie's ex- 
happened : the earl of Argile was a privy counsellor, '*'*"**'*"'• 
and one of the commissioners of the treasury : so 
when the time limited was near lapsing, he was 
forced to declare himself ^ He had once resolved 
to retire from all employments, but his engagements 
with duke Lauderdale's party, and the entangle- 
ments of his own affairs, overcame that. His main 
objection lay to that part which obliged them to en- 
deavour no alteration in the government in church 520 
or state, which he thought was a limitation of the, 
legislature. He desired leave to explain himself in 
that point : and he continued always to affirm, that 
the duke was satisfied with that which he proposed : 
so being called on the next day at the council 
table to take the test, he said, he did not think that 
the parliament did intend an oath that should have 
any contradictions in one part of it to another; 
therefore he took the test, as it was consistent with 
it self: (this related to the absolute loyalty in 
the test, and the limitations that were on it in the 
confession :) and he added, that he did not intend 
to bind himself up by it from doing any thing in his 
station for the amending of any thing in church or 
state, so far as was consistent with the protestant 

^ In a letter of the duke's, " will hear from lord Hyde, of 

dated Nov. 1st, he says, "Lord " lord Argile's having taken the 

" Argile is here, and has not " test, and spoiled ail again by 

" yet taken it, (the test,) but " not taking it yesterday as one 

" by Thursday next he must ; " of the lords of the treasury." 

" or lose all his places, which On the 12th, " People seem lit- 

" he will be unwilling to do." " tie concerned for lortl Argile'Ji 

In another of the 5th, " You " being put into the castle," P. 

X 3 


1682. religion and the duty of a good subject: and he 
took that as a part of his oath. The thing passed, 
and he sat that day in council ; and went next day 
to the treasury chamber, where he repeated the 
same words. Some officious people upon this came 
and suggested to the duke, that great advantage 
might be taken against him from these words. So 
at the treasury chamber he was desired to write 
them down, and give them to the clerk, which he 
did, and was immediately made a prisoner in the 
castle of Edenburgh upon it. It was said, this was 
high treason, and the assuming to himself the legis- 
lative power, in his giving a sense of an act of par- 
liament, and making that a part of his oath. It 
was also said, that his saying that he did not think 
the parliament intended an oath that did contradict 
it self, was a tacit way of saying that he did think 
it, and was a defaming and a spreading lies of the 
proceedings of parliament, which was capital. The 
liberty that he reserved to himself was likewise 
called treasonable, in assuming a power to act 
against law : these were such apparent stretches, 
that for some days it was believed all this was done 
only to affright him to a more absolute submission, 
and to surrender up some of those great jurisdic- 
tions over the Highlands that were in his family. 
He desired he might be admitted to speak with the 
duke in private : but that was refused. He had let 
his old correspondence with me fall for some years : 
but I thought it became me in this extremity to 
serve him aU I could. And I prevailed with lord 
Halifax to speak so oft to the king about it, that it 
came to be known : and lord Argile writ me some 
letters of thanks upon it. Duke Lauderdale was 


still in a firm friendship with him, and tried his i682. 
whole strength with the king to preserve him : but sq\ 
he was sinking both in body and mind, and was 
like to be cast off in his old age. Upon which I 
also prevailed with lord Halifax to offer him his 
service, for which duke Lauderdale sent me very- 
kind messages. I thought these were the only re- 
turns that I ought to make him for all the injuries 
he had done me, thus to serve him and his friends 
in distress. But the duke of York took this, as he 
did every thing fi'om me, by the worst handle pos- 
sible. He said, I would reconcile my self to the 
greatest enemies I had in opposition to him. Upon 
this it was not thought fit upon many accounts that 
I should go and see duke Lauderdale, which I had 
intended to do. It was well known I had done 
him acts of friendship : so the scandal of being in 
enmity with him was over: for a Christian is no 
man's enemy: and he will always study to over- 
come evil with good. 

Lord Argile was brought to a trial for the words Arfjiie is 
he had spoke. The fact was certain : so the debate condemned. 
lay in a point of law, what guilt could be made out 
of his words \ Lockhart pleaded three hours for 

• Dec. 13th, the duke says, " count that the j,ury, of which 

" Lord Argiie's trial began yes- " the marquis of Montrose 

** terday, and their forms in the " was chancellor, as they call 

" justice court are so tedious, " them here, have found lord 

*' that they could not make an " Argile guilty of treason, and 

" end of it then, but will, as I " other crimes, so that he is 

" believe, this evening; and have "absolutely in his majesty's 

" reason to believe the jury will "hands." D. (This extract 

*• find the bill, and not ignora- has been already published by 

" mus, and that that little lord sir John Dalrymple in his 

*• will be once again at his ma- Memoirs, vol. ii. Apix;ndLx, p. 

" je.sty'8 mercy." " Since I 67.) 
*f wrote this, I have had an ac- 



1682. him, and shewed so manifestly that his words had 
no sort of criminousness, much less of treason in 
them, that, if his cause had not been judged before 
his trial, no harm could have come to him. The 
court that was to judge the point of law (or the re- 
levancy of the Ubel, as it is called in Scotland) con- 
sisted of a justice general, the justice clerk, and of 
five judges. The justice general does not vote, un- 
less the court is equally divided. One of the judges 
was deaf, and so old that he could not sit all the 
while the trial lasted, but went home and to bed. 
The other four were equally divided : so the old 
judge was sent for : and he turned it against lord 
ArgHe. The jury was only to find the fact proved : 
but yet they were officious, and found it treason : 
and, to make a shew of impartiality, whereas in the 
libel he was charged with perjury for taking the 
oath falsely, they acquitted him of the perjury. No 
sentence in our age was more universally cried out 
on than this. AU people spoke of it, and of the 
duke who drove it on, with horror : aU that was 
said to lessen that was, that duke Lauderdale had 
restored the family with such an extended jurisdic- 
tion, that he was really the master of all the High- 
lands : so that it was fit to attaint him, that by a 
new restoring him these grants might be better 
limited. This, as the duke wrote to the ki^.g, was 
all he intended by it, as lord Halifax assured me. 
522 But lord Argile was made believe, that the duke in- 
tended to proceed to execution. Some more of the 
guards were ordered to come to Edenburgh. Rooms 
were also fitted for him in the common gaol, to 
which peers use to be removed a few days before 
their execution^ And a person of quality, whom 


lord Argile never named, affirmed to him on his ho- i682. 

nour, that he heard one who was in great favour 

say to the duke, The thing must be done, and that 
it would be easier to satisfy the king about it after 
it was done, than to obtain his leave for doing it. 
It is certain, many of the Scotish nobility did be- 
lieve that it was intended he should die '. 

Upon these reasons lord Argile made his escape He made 
out of the castle in a disguise. Others suspected 
those stories were sent to him on purpose to frighten 
him to make his escape ; as that which would jus- 
tify further severities against him. He came to 
London, and lurked for some months there. It was 
thought I was in his secret. But though I knew 
one that knew it, and saw many papers that he 
then writ, giving an account of all that matter, yet 
I abhoiTed lying : and it was not easy to have kept 
out of the danger of that, if I had seen him, or 
known where he was : so I avoided it by not seeing 
him. One that saw him knew him, and went and 
told the king of it : but he would have no search 
made for him, and retained still very good thoughts 
of him. In one of lord Argile's papers he writ, 
that, if ever he was admitted to speak with the 
king, he could convince him how much he merited 
at his hands by that which had drawn the duke's 

' " I find by yours of the " and has but to thank himself 

" a7th of last month, that peo- " for what has happened to 

" pie take all the pains they " him ; and to shew you what 

" can to tax me with severity " wrong is done me, if I had 

" in this affair of lord Argile's: " not hindered his being fallen 

" it is not the first wrong of " on in parliament, they had 

" that kind which has been " brought him there, in as ill » 

" done me, as those who are ac- "condition as to his fortune, 

" quaintcd with the laws of " as he is now." (Duke of York's 

" this country know very well : letter to Lord Dartmouth.) D. 


1682. indignation on him. He that shewed me this ex- 
plained it, that at the duke's first being in Scotland, 
when he apprehended that the king might have 
consented to the exclusion, he tried to engage lord 
Argile to stick to him in that case ; who told him, 
he would always be true to the king, and likewise 
to him when it should come to his turn to be king, 
but that he would go no farther, nor engage himself 
in case the king and he should quarrel. 

I had lived many years in great friendship with 
the earl of Perth : I lived with him as a father with 
a son for above twelve years : and he had really the 
submissions of a child to me. So, he having been 
on lord Argile's jury, I writ him a letter about it 
with the freedom that I thought became me : he, 
to merit at the duke's hands, shewed it to him, as 
he himself confessed to me. I could very easily 
forgive him, but could not esteem him much after 
so unworthy an action. He was then aspiring to 
523 great preferment, and so sacrificed me to obtain fa- 
vour : but he made greater sacrifices afterwards. 
The duke now seemed to triumph in Scotland. All 
stooped to him. The presbyterian party was much 
depressed. The best of the clergy were turned out. 
Yet, with all this, he was now more hated there 
than ever. Lord Argile's business made him be 
looked on as one that would prove a terrible master 
when all should come into his hands. He had pro- 
mised to redress aU the merchants' grievances with 
relation to trade, that so he might gain their con- 
currence in parliament: but, as soon as that was 
over, aU his promises were forgotten. The accusa- 
tions of perjury were stifled by him. And all the 
complaints of the gieat abuse lord Halton was guilty 


of in the matter of the coin ended in turning him jgg^ 

out of all his employments, and obliging him to ■ 

compound for his pardon, by paying 20,000/. to two 
of the duke's creatures : [one of whom he had ad- 
vanced soon after to be chancellor of Scotland, 
Aberdeen :] so that all the reparation the kingdom 
had for the oppression of so many years, and so 
many acts of injustice, was, that two new oppressors 
had a share of the spoils, who went into the same 
tract, or rather invented new methods of oppression, 
[in which the new chancellor exceeded all that had 
gone before him. He had a small estate which he 
resolved to raise up, till it should hold a proportion 
to his new title : for he was made earl of Aberdeen.] 
All these things, together with a load of age and of 
a vast bulk, sunk duke Lauderdale so, that he died 
that summer. His heart seemed quite spent : there 
was not left above the bigness of a walnut of firm 
substance: the rest was spongy, liker" the lungs 
than the heart. 

The duke had leave given him to come to the The duke 
king at Newmarket: and there he prevailed for^JJJ] 
leave to come up, and live again at court. As he 
was going back to bring the duchess, the Gloucester 
frigate, that carried him, struck on a bank of sand. 
The duke got into a boat: and took care of his dogs, 
and some unknown persons who were taken from 
that earnest care of his to be his priests : the long 
boat went off with very few in her, though she might 
have carried off above eighty more than she did*. 
One hundred and fifty persons perished : some of 

" Anglice, more like. S. " the pilot was sentenced to [ter- 

* (" Sir John Berry the com- " petual imprisonment for his 

" raander was cleared of being " negligence." Contplete History 

•' in any fault by his majesty and of England, vol. iii. p. 395- Sec 

" the council. But captain Ayres also an account of this sad dis- 



1682. them men of great quality. But the duke took no 
notice of this cruel neglect, which was laid chiefly to 
Leg's charge y. 

aster in the Life of king James 
II. vol. i. p. 731. where it is 
said, that only Mr. Churchill 
and one or two more were in- 
vited by the duke to go into the 
shallop ; and that the perishing 
sailors gave a loud huzza, when 
they saw his royal highness in 

y The ground of this reflec- 
tion was, that he stood with his 
sword drawn, to hinder the 
crowd from oversetting the boat 
the duke was in ; which the bi- 
shop thought was a fault. But 
he had forgot a famous storj', of 
a struggle between sir Charles 
Scarborow and the duke's dog 
Mumper, which would have 
convinced him that the dogs 
took care of themselves. D. See 
a letter from the earl of Dart- 
mouth to Erasmus Lewis, esq. 
in which this charge is refuted, 
p. 826. H. L. (Henr}' Legge.) 
(The letter is here subjoined, al- 
though it has been already pub- 
lished by Sir John Dalrymple in 
his Memoirs, Appendix, p. 71.) 

To Erasmus Lewis, Esq. 

Sir, Jan. 25, 1723-4. 

This is only in answer to 
the last paragraph in your's of 
the 21st. My father was on 
board the Glocester, but so 
little deserved to have the 
drowning 150 men (which the 
bishop has so liberally bestowed 
upon him) laid chiefly to his 
charge, that it was in great 
measure owing to him that any 
escaped. After the ship had 
struck, he several times pressed 

the duke to get into the boat, 
who refused to do it, telling him, 
that if he were gone, nobody 
would take care of the ship, 
which he had hopes might be 
saved, if she were not aban- 
doned. But my father finding 
she was ready to sink, told him 
if he staid any longer they 
should be obliged to force him 
out; upon which the duke or- 
dered a strong box to be lifted 
into the boat, which besides 
being extremely weighty, took 
up a good deal of time, as well 
as room. My father asked him 
with some warmth, if there 
was any thing in it worth a 
man's life. The duke answer- 
ed, that there were things of 
so great consequence, both to 
the king and himself, that he 
would hazard his own, rather 
than it should be lost. Before 
he went off, he enquired for lord 
Roxburgh, and lord Obrian, but 
the confusion and hurry was so 
great, that they could not be 
found. When the duke and as 
many as she would hold with 
safety were in the boat, ray 
father stood with his sword 
drawn, to hinder the crowd from 
oversetting of her, which, I 
suppose, was what the bishop 
esteemed a fault : but the king 
thanked him publicly for the 
care he had taken of the duke ; 
and the duchess, who was not 
apt to favour him much upon 
other occasions, said upon this, 
that she thought herself more 
obliged to him, than to any man 
in the world, and should do so 
as long as she lived. I cannot 


In Scotland the duke declared the new ministers : J 682. 
Gordon, now eaii of Aberdeen, was made chancellor: \ new mi- 
and Queensbury was made treasurer : and the care JSid, 
^ of all affairs was committed to them. [But they both 
were very proud and very covetous men ; so that it 
was not probable that their friendship could last 

The duke at i>arting recommended to the council 
to preserve the public peace, to support the church, 
and to obhge all men to live regularly in obedience 
to the laws. The bishops made their court to him 
with so much zeal, that they wrote a letter to the 
archbishop of Canterbury, to be communicated to 524 
the rest of the English bishops, setting forth in a 
very high strain his affection to the church, and his 
care of it : and, lest this piece of merit should have 
been stifled by Sancroft, they sent a copy of it to the 
press ; which was a greater reproach to them than a 
service to the duke, who could not but despise such 
abject and indecent flattery. The proceedings against 
conventicles were now like to be severer than evef ': 
all the fines, that were set so high by law that they 
were never before levied but on some particular in- 

guess what induced the bishop between Sir Charles Scarbo- 
to charge my father with the rough, and the duke's dog 
long boat's not being sufficient- Mumper, which convinces me 
ly manned; for if that were true, that the dogs were left to take 
(which I much doubt,) it was care of themselves, (as he did,) 
not under his direction, he being if there were any more on board; 
on board in no other capacity which I never heard until the 
but as a passenger, and the bishop's stor)' book was pub- 
duke's servant. And I believe lished. This is all in relation to 
his reflection upon the duke for that affair that ever came to the 
his care of the dogs, to be as ill knowledge of, 
grounded, for I remember a Sir, 
story, (that was in every body's Your most faithful, 
mouth at that time,) of a stnig- humble servant, 
gle that happened for a plank Dartmouth. 


1682. stances, were now ordered to be levied without ex- 
ception. All people upon that saw, they must either 
conform or be quite undone. The chancellor laid 
down a method for proceeding against all offenders 
punctually : and the treasurer was as rigorous in or- 
dering aU the fines to be levied. 
They pro- When the people saw this, they came all to church 

ceeded with . -i .^ , • t ^ n 

great seve- agam : and that m some places where all sermons 
"*^' had been discontinued for many years. But they 

came in so awkward a manner, that it was visible 
they did not mean to worship God, but only to stay 
some time within the church walls : and they were 
either talking or sleeping all the while. Yet most of 
the clergy seemed to be transported with this change 
of their condition, and sent up many panegyrics of 
the glorious services that the duke had done their 
church. [This compliance shewed how soon the 
presbyterians could overcome all their scruples; when 
they saw what they were to suffer for them, so that 
the enemies of religion gained their point, by observ- 
ing^] the ill nature of the one side, and the cowardli- 
ness of the other, and pleased themselves in censuring 
them both. And by this means an impious and 
atheistical leaven began to corrupt most of the 
younger sort. This has since that time made a great 
progress in that kingdom, which was before the 
freest from it of any nation in Christendom. The 
beginnings of it were reckoned from the duke's stay 
among them, and from his court, which have been 
cultivated since with much care, and but too much 

About the end of the year two trials gave all peo- 

* In the printed copy was substituted. The enemies of religion 


pie sad apprehensions of what they were to look for. 1692. 

One Home was charged by a kinsman of his own for 

having been at BothweU-bridge. All gentlemen of 
estates were excepted out of the indemnity : so he, 
having an estate, could have no benefit by that. One 
swore, he saw him go into a village, and seize on 
some arms : another swore, he saw him ride towards 
the body of the rebels: but none did swear that they 
saw him there. He was indeed among them : but 
there was no proof of it. And he proved, that he 
was not in the company where the single witness 525 
swore he saw him seize on arms, and did evidently 
discredit him : yet he was convicted and condemned 
on that single evidence, that was so manifestly 
proved to be infamous. Many were sensible of the 
mischievousness of such a precedent : and great ap- 
plications were made to the duke for saving his life : 
but he was not bom under a pardoning planet'. 
Lord Aberdeen, the chancellor, prosecuted Home 
with the more rigour, because his own grandfather 
had suffered in the late times for bearing arms on 
the king's side, and Home's father was one of the 
jury that cast him. The day of his execution was 
set to be on the same day of the year on which lord 
Stafford had suffered ; which was thought done in 
compliment to the duke, as a retaliation for his blood. 
Yet Home's infamous kinsman, who had so basely 
sworn against him, lived not to see his execution ; 
for he died before it full of honor for what he had 
done. Another trial went much deeper; and the 
consequences of it struck a terror into the whole 

One Weir, of Blakewood, that managed the mar- 
» A silly fop. S. 


1682. quess of Douglass's conceras, was accused of treason 
for having kept company with one that had been in 
the business of Bothwell-bridge. Blakewood [had at 
that time no good character ; which is the common 
fate of all that govern other men's affairs ; though 
upon this occasion, his accounts being exactly look- 
ed into, they discovered an extraordinary degree of 
fidelity and exactness. He] pleaded for himself, that 
the person on whose account he was now prosecuted 
as an abettor of traitors, had never been marked out 
<^v:w by the government by process or proclamation. It 
did not so much as appear that he had ever suspect- 
ed him upon that account. He had lived in his own 
house quietly for some years after that rebellion be- 
fore he employed him : and if the government 
seemed to forget his crime, it was no wonder if 
others entered into common deahngs with him. AU 
the lawyers were of opinion, that nothing could be 
made of this prosecution : so that Blakewood made 
use of no secret appUcation, thinking he was in no 
danger. But the court came to a strange sentence 
in this matter, by these steps : they judged, that all 
men who suspected any to have been in the rebellion 
were bound to discover such their suspicion, and to 
give no harbour to such persons : that the bai*e sus- 
picion made it treason to harbour the person sus- 
pected, whether he was guilty or not : that if any 
person was under such a suspicion, it was to be pre- 
sumed that all the neighbourhood knew it : so that 
there was no need of proving that against any par- 
ticular person, since the presumption of law did prove 
526 it : and it being proved that the person with whom 
Blakewood had conversed lay under that suspicion, 
Blakewood was upon that condemned as guilty of 


high treason. This was such a constructive treason, igsa. 

that went upon so many unreasonable suppositions, " 

that it showed the shamelessness of a sort of men 
who had been for forty years declaiming against a 
parliamentary attainder for a constructive treason in 
the case of the earl of Strafford, and did now in a 
common court of justice condemn a man upon a train 
of so many inferences, that it was not possible to 
make it look even like a constioictive treason. The 
day of his execution was set : and though the mar- 
quis of Douglas writ earnestly to the duke for his 
pardon, that was denied. He only obtained two 
months' reprieve, for making up his accounts. The 
reprieve was renewed once or twice : so Blakewood 
was not executed. This put all the gentry in a great 
fright : many knew they were as obnoxious as Blake- 
wood was : and none could have the comfort to 
know that he was safe. This revived among them a ■<» 
design, that Lockhart had set on foot ten years be- 
fore, of caiTying over a plantation to Carolina. All 
the presbyterian party saw they were now disin- 
herited of a main part of their birthright**, of choos- 
ing their representatives in parliament : and upon 
that they said, they would now seek a country where 
they might live undisturbed, as freemen and as 
Christians. The duke encouraged the motion : he 
was glad to have many untoward people sent far 
away, who, he reckoned, would be ready upon the 
first favourable conjuncture to break out into a new 
rebellion. Some gentlemen were sent up to treat 
with the patentees of Carolina : they did not like 
the government of those palatinates, as they were 
called : yet the prospect of so great a colony ob- 
^ As much of papists as of presbyterian*. S. 


1682. tained to them all the conditions they projwsed. I 
was made acquainted with all the steps they made ; 
for those who were sent up were particularly recom- 
mended to me; [and seemed to depend much on the 
advices I gave him (them.)] In the negotiation this 
year there was no mixing with the malecontents in 
England : only they who were sent up went among 
among them, and informed them of the oppressions 
they lay under; in particular of the terror with 
which this sentence against Blakewood had struck 
them all. The court resolved to prosecute that far- 
ther : for a proclamation was issued out in the be- 
ginning of the year eighty-three, by which the king 
ordered circuit courts to be sent round the western 
and southern counties, to inquire after all who had 
been guilty of harbouring or conversing with those 
who had been in rebellion, even though there had 
527been neither process nor proclamation issued out 
against them. He also ordered, that all who were 
found guilty of such converse with them should be 
prosecuted as traitors. This inquisition was to last 
three years : and at the end of that time all was to 
conclude in a full indemnity to such as should not 
be then under prosecution. But the indemnity was 
to take place immediately to aU such as should take 
the test. This was perhaps such a proclamation as 
the world had not seen since the days of the duke of 
Alva. Upon it great numbers run in to take the 
test, declaring at the same time that they took it 
against their consciences : but they would do any 
thing to be safe. Such as resolved not to take it 
were trying how to settle or sell their estates ; and 
resolved to leave the country, which was now in a 
very oppressed and desperate state. 


But I must next turn again to the affairs of Eng- 1692. 
land. The court was every where triumphant. The ^^^^^.^ 
duke was highly complimented by all, and seemed '=^'*k*»~*- 
to have overcome all difficulties. The court, not 
content with all their victories, resolved to free 
themselves from the fears of troublesome parliaments 
for the future. The cities and boroughs of England 
were invited and prevailed on, to demonstrate their 
loyalty, by surrendering up then* charters, and taking aii charten 
new ones modeled as the court thought fit. It was were*uJ- 
much questioned, whether those surrenders were [Je'ki^g/*' 
good in law or not : it was said, that those who 
were in the government in corporations, and had 
their charters and seals trusted to their keeping, 
were not the proprietors nor masters of those rights : 
they could not extinguish those corporations, nor part 
with any of their privileges. Others said, that what- 
ever might be objected to the reason and equity of 
the thing, yet, when the seal of a corporation was 
put to any deed, such a deed was good in law '^. 
The matter goes beyond my skill in law to deter- 
mine it ; this is certain, that whatsoever may be said 
in law, there is no sort of theft or perfidy more cri- 
minal, than for a body of men, whom then- neigh- 
bours have trusted with their concerns, to steal -t 
away their charters, and affix their seals to such a 
deed, betraying in that their trust and their oaths. In 
former ages, corporations were jealous of their privi- 
leges and customs to excess and superstition. So 
that it looked like a strange degeneracy, when all 
these were now delivered uj) ; and this on design to 
pack a parliament that might make way for a popish 

<^ What does he think of the beys ? S. (See what is said on 
surrender of the charters of ab- thi» point below, in p. 534) 

Y 2 


i682. king. So that, instead of securing us from popery 
' TTT under such a prince, these persons were now con- 
triving ways to make all easy to him. Popery at all 
times has looked odious and cruel: yet what the 
emperor had lately done in Hungary, and what 
the king of France was then doing against pro- 
testants in that kingdom, shewed that their religion 
was as perfidious and as cruel in this age as it had 
been in the last ; and by the duke's government of 
Scotland, all men did see what was to be expected 
from him. All this laid together, the whole looked like 
an extravagant fit of madness : yet no part of it w as 
so unaccountable, as the high strains to which the 
universities and most of the clergy were carried. 
The nonconformists were now prosecuted with 
much eagerness. This was visibly set on by the pa- 
pists : and it was wisely done of them ; for they 
knew how much the nonconformists were set against 
them ^ ; and therefore they made use of the indis- 
creet heat of some angry clergymen to ruin them : 
this they knew would render the clergy odious, and 
give the papists great advantages against them, if 
ever they should strike up into an opposition to their 
The dispute At midsummcr a new contest discovered how lit- 

concerning , . , . , . . 

the sheriflFs tie the court resolved to regard either justice or de- 
cency. The court had carried the election of Sir 
John Moor to be mayor of the city of London at Mi- 
chaelmas eighty-one. He was the alderman on whom 
the election fell in course. Yet some who knew him 
well were for setting him aside, as one whom the 
court would easily manage. He had been a non- 

** Not so much as they are against the church. S. 


conformist himself, till he grew so rich that he had i082. 

a mind to go through the dignities of the city : but 

though he conformed to the church, yet he was still 
looked on as one that in his heart favoured the sec- 
taries : and upon this occasion he persuaded some of 
their preachers to go among their congregations to 
get votes for him. Others, who knew him to be a 
flexible and faint-hearted man, opposed his election : 
yet it was carried for him. The opposition that was 
made to his election had sharpened him so much, 
that he became in all things compliant to the court, 
in particular to secretary Jenkins, who took him into 
his own management. When the day came in which 
the mayor used to drink to one, and to mark him out 
for sheriff, he drank to North, a merchant that was 
brother to the chief justice^. Upon that it was pre- 
tended, that this ceremony was not a bare nomina- 
tion, which the common hall might receive or refuse 
as they had a mind to it ; but that this made the 
sheriff, and that the common hall was bound to re- 
ceive and confirm him in course, as the king did the 529 
mayor. On the other hand it was said, that the 
right was to be determined by the charter, which 
granted the election of the sheriffs to the citizens of 
London : and that, whatever customs had crept in 
among them, the right still lay where the charter had 

* (Harris, in his Life of " and various precedents de- 
Charles n. p. 343, says, his " nionstrate, beyond all doubt, 
lordship pretended a right, for " that this right of election re- 
many years disused, whatever " sided in the citizens at Urge, 
the old practice might have " and that the choice allowed 
been, to nominate one of the " to the lord mayor was only a 
sheriffs by drinking to bim. " matter of courtesy between 
Lord John Russell, in his Life " the city and its chief magis- 
of Lord Russell, p. 172, adds, " trate.*') 
V That the letter of the charter 

Y 3 


1682. lodged it among the citizens. But the court was re- 
solved to carry this point : and they found orders 
that had been made in the city concerning this par- 
ticular, which gave some colour to this pretension of 
the mayor's. So he claimed it on midsummer-day : 
and said, the common hall were to go and elect one 
sheriff, and to confirm the other that had been de- 
clared by him. The haU on the other hand said, 
that the right of choosing both was in them. The 
old sheriffs put it, according to custom, to a poU : and 
it was visible, the much greater number was against 
the lord mayor. The sheriffs were always understood 
to be the officers of that court : so the adjourning it 
belonged to them : yet the mayor adjourned the 
court ; which they said he had no power to do, and 
so went on with the poll. There was no disorder in 
the whole progress of the matter, if that was not to 
be called one, that they proceeded after the mayor had 
adjourned the poU. But though the mayor's party 
carried themselves with great insolence towards the 
other party, yet they shewed on this occasion more 
temper than could have been expected from so great 
a body, who thought their rights were now invaded. 
The mayor upon this resolved to take another poll, 
to which none should be admitted but those who 
were contented to vote only for one, and to approve 
his nomination for the other. And it was resolved, 
that his poU should be that by which the business 
should be settled : and though the sheriffs' poll ex- 
ceeded his by many hundreds, yet order was given 
to return those on the mayor's poll, and that they 
should be sworn ; and so those of the sheriffs' poll 
should be left to seek their remedy by law, where 
they could find it. Box, who was chosen by the 


mayor's party, and joined to North, had no mind to 1682. 
serve upon so doubtful an election, where so many 
actions would lie, if it was judged against them at 
law : and he could not be persuaded to hold it. So 
it was necessary to call a new common hall, and to 
proceed to a new election : and then, without any 
proclamation made as was usual, one in a comer 
near the mayor named Rich, and about thirty more 
applauded it, those in the hall, that was full of peo- 
ple and of noise, hearing nothing of it. Upon this it 
was said, that Rich was chose\i without any contra- 530 
diction : and so North and Rich were returned, and 
sworn sheriffs for the ensuing year. The violence carried by 
and the injustice with which this matter was ma- ^ * *^°"'*' 
naged, shewed that the court was resolved to carry 
that point at any rate : and this gave great occasions 
of jealousy, that some wicked design was on foot, for 
which it was necessary in the first place to be sure of 
favourable juries. 

Lord Shaftsbury upon this, knowing how obnoxi- 
ous he was, went out of England. His voyage was 
fatal to him : he just got to Amsterdam to die in it. 
Of the last parts of his life I shall have some occasion 
to make mention afterwards. When Michaelmas- 
day came, those who found how much they had been 
deceived in Moor, resolved to choose a mayor that 
might be depended on. The poll was closed when 
the court thought they had the majority : but upon 
casting it up, it appeared they had lost it : so they 
fell to canvass it : and they made such exceptions to 
those of the other side, that they discounted as many 
voices as gave them the majority. This was also 
managed in so gross a manner, that it was visible 
the court was resolved by fair or foul means to 

Y 4 


1682. have the government of the city in their own hands. 
But because they would not be at this trouble, nor 
run this hazard every year, it was resolved that 
the charter of the city must either be given up, or 
be adjudged to the king. The former was much 
the easier way : so great pains was taken to ma- 
nage the next election of the common council, so 
as that they might be tractable in this point. 
There was much injustice complained of in many 
of the wards of the city, both in the poU and in 
the returns that were made. In order to the dis- 
abUng aU the dissenters from having a vote in that 
election, the bishop and clergy of London were 
pressed by the court to prosecute them in the church 
courts, that so they might excommunicate them ; 
which some lawyers thought would render them in- 
capable to vote, though other lawyers were very po- 
sitively of another opinion. It is certain it gave at 
least a colour to deny them votes. The bishop of 
London began to apprehend, that things were run- 
ning too fast, and was backward in the matter. The 
clergy of the city refused to make presentments : 
the law laid that on the church-wardens: and so 
they would not meddle officiously. The king was 
displeased with them for their remissness : but after 
all the practices of the court, in the returns of the 
531 common council of the city, they could not bring it 
near an equality for delivering up their charter. 
Jenkins managed the whole business of the city with 
so many indirect practices, that the reputation he 
had for probity was much blemished by it*^: he 

^ (Of the proceedings in the mayor and sheriffs, a different 
city a( the election of lord account from the above is given. 


seemed to think it was necessary to bring the city 166I. 
to a dependence on the court in the fairest methods ~ 

he could fall on ; and, if these did not succeed, that 
then he was to take the most effectual ones, hoping 
that a good intention would excuse bad practices «. 

The earl of Sunderland had been disgraced after change* io 
the exclusion parliaments, as they were now called, try, »nd**^ 
were dissolved : but the king had so entire a confi- JI^Il^ 
dence in him, and lady Portsmouth was so much in 
his interests, that upon great submissions made to 
the duke he was again restored to be secretary this 
winter. Lord Hide was the person that disposed 
the duke to it : upon that, lord Halifax and he fell 
to be in ill terms : for he hated lord Sunderland be- 
yond expression, though he had married his sister ^. 
From lord Sunderland's returning to his post all men 
concluded, that his declaring as he did for the exclu- 
sion was certainly done by direction from the king, 
who naturally loved craft and a double game, that 
so he might have proper instruments to work by, 
which way soever he had turned himself in that 
affair. The king was the more desirous to have lord 
Sunderland again near him, that he might have 
somebody about him who understood foreign affairs. 
Jenkins understood nothing: but he had so much 

both in Echard's Hist, of Eng- honestly dissuading him from 

land, pp. 1021, 1022, and in the extremity of prosecuting 

North's Examen of the Critical the city for a forfeiture of their 

Hist, of England, p.587 — 618.) charter, or seizing their li- 

8 But since this history came berties. O. 
out, there has been published •• Who married whose sis- 
the life of Jenkins, in which ter ? S. (Lord Halifax had 
there is a letter of his to the married lord Sunderland s sis- 
duke of York, very strongly and ter.) 


1682. credit with the high church party, that he was of 

great use to the court. Lord Conway was brought in 
to be the other secretary, who was so very ignorant 
of foreign affairs, that his province being the north, 
when one of the foreign ministers talked to him of the 
circles of Germany, it amazed him : he could not ima- 
gine what circles had to do with affairs of state. He 
was now dismissed. Lord Halifax and lord Hide fell 
to be in an open war, and were both much hated. 
Lord Halifax charged Hide, who was at this time 
made earl of Rochester, of bribery, for having farmed 
a branch of the revenue much lower than had been 
proffered for it. Lord Halifax acquainted the king 
first with it : and, as he told me, he desired lord 
Rochester himself to examine into it, he being in- 
clined to think it was rather an abuse put on him, 
than corruption in himself. But he saw lord Ro- 
chester was cold in the matter, and instead of prose- 
cuting any for it, protected all concerned in it. He 
532 laid the complaint before the king in council : and to 
convince the king how ill a bargain he had made, 
the complainers offered, if he would break the bar- 
gain, to give him 40,000/. more than he was to have 
from the farmers. He looked also into the other 
branches of the revenue, and found cause to suspect 
much corruption in every one of them : and he got 
undertakers to offer at a farm of the whole revenue. 
In this he had all the court on his side : for the king 
being now resolved to live on his revenue, without 
putting himself on a parliament, he was forced on a 
great reduction of expense : so that many payments 
run in arrear : and the whole court was so ill paid, 
that the offering any thing that would raise the re- 


venue, and blemish the management of the treasury, 1692. 

was very accepta])le to all in it. Lord Rochester 

[was become so outrageous and insolent, that he] was 
also much hated : but the duke and the lady Ports- 
mouth both protected the earl of Rochester so power- 
fully, that even propositions to the king's advantage, 
which blemished him, were not hearkened to. This 
touched in too tender a place to admit of a reconci- 
liation : the duke forgot all lord Halifax's service in 
the point of the exclusion '. And the deamess that 
was between them was now turned upon this to a 
coldness, and afterwards to a most violent enmity. 
Upon this occasion lord Halifax sent for me, (for I 
went no more near any that belonged to the court,) 
and he told me the whole matter. I asked him how 
he stood with the king : he answered, that neither 
he nor I had the making of the king : God had made 
him of a particular composition. He said, he knew 
what the king said to himself: I asked him, if he 
knew likewise what he said to others; for he was 
apt to say to his several ministers whatsoever he 
thought would please them, as long as he intended 
to make use of them. By the death of the earl of 
Nottingham the seals were given to North, wlio was 
made lord Guilford''. He had not the virtues of 

i It appears by many of the were of worse consequence to 

duke's letters, that he always himself and the monarchy, than 

looked upon lord Halifax as even the bill itself. D. 
the most dangerous enemy he ^ He was not made lord 

had, though in one he makes Guilford till the year after; 

great acknowledgments for his which I take notice of, because 

behaviour in the bill of exclu- this mistake led the bishop to 

sion : but he thinks if he had expose himself very much, be- 

been really his friend, he would fore a very lai^e assembly. The 

not have proposed the next day last lord Guilford and I \vere 

his banishment and other limi- ai)pointed with him in a com- 

tations, which he understood mission of delegates, to try the 


1682. his predecessor : but he had parts far beyond him : 
they were turned to craft : so that whereas the for- 
mer seemed to mean weU even when he did ill, this 
man was believed to mean ill even when he did weU \ 
The court finding that the city of London could not 
be wrought on to surrender their charter, resolved 
to have it condemned by a judgment in the king's 
bench. Jones had died in May *" : so now PoUex- 
phen and Treby were chiefly relied on by the city in 
this matter. Sawyer was the attorney general, a 
dull hot man, and forward to serve all the designs of 

validity of the old earl of 
Macclesfield's will. When we 
came to sign the decree, the 
bishop, after he had signed it 
himself, thrust it to lord Guil- 
ford, who very civilly put it back 
to me. Burnet said he ought 
to sign first, for he was an elder 
baron. Lord Guilford told him 
he knew that was not so, and 
that lord Stawell was between 
him and me. The bishop said 
he could venture to be very po- 
sitive that he was in the right. 
Chief baron Ward seeing him 
persevere in his impertinence, 
desired I would end the dispute, 
for 1 was first named in the 
commission, which would not 
have been, if it were not my 
due. Upon which I took the 
pen, and said, I supposed his 
lordship would give us leave to 
know our own rank, but hoped 
that he did not think either of 
us looked upon every body that 
went before us, to be our bet- 
ters; which occasioned a very 
universal laugh, and the bishop 
was as much out of countenance 
as he was capable of being. D. 
' (See more in a note below 

concerning the lord keeper Guil- 
ford at p. 665.) 

•"He died at Hampden, in 
Bucks, of a cold he took there 
by unaired sheets. The old lord 
Trevor, who was well known to 
him, and related to Mr. Hamp- 
den, and acquainted with many 
of the party, told me that it was 
thought a great felicity to sir 
WiUiam Jones, by his nearest 
friends, that he died at this 
time : for as he was privy to the 
consultations and designs of 
the lord Russel and the others 
of his set, and having made 
himself as obnoxious to the 
court as any of them, and be- 
cause of his superior abilities, 
more dangerous ; it was very 
likely he would have fallen un- 
der the suspicion at least of 
being engaged in the plot my 
lord Russel suffered for, and 
have been treated with a par- 
ticular severity, which his ti- 
mid nature could not have 
borne, and might have drawn 
confessions from him, injurious 
to his friends and his own cha- 
racter. O. 


the court. He undertook, by the advice of Sanders, ]682. 
a learned but a very immoral man, to overthrow 

the charter ". ^^^ 

The two points upon which they rested the cause Thf urga- 
were, that the common council had petitioned the J'nd''lj5l?Lt 
king upon a prorogation of parliament that it might J,^*i^^^' 
meet on the day to which it was prorogued, and had 
taxed the prorogation as that which occasioned a de- 
lay of justice : this was construed to be the raising 
sedition, and the possessing the people with an ill 
opinion of the king and his government. The other 
point was, that the city had imposed new taxes on 
their wharfs and markets, which was an invasion of 
the liberty of the subject, and contrary to law. It 
was said, that aU that the crown gave was forfeitable 
back to the crown again upon a maleversation of 
the body; and that as the common council was the 
body of the city, chosen by all the citizens, so they 
were all involved in what the common council did : 
and they inferred, that since they had both scandal- 
ized the king's government, and oppressed their '* 
fellow subjects, they had thereupon forfeited their 
liberties : many precedents were brought of the seiz- 
ing on the liberties of towns and other corporations, 
and of extinguishing them. 

The arguments against this were made by Treby, 
then the recorder of London, and Pollexphen, who 
argued about three hours a piece. They laid it 
down for a foundation, that trading corporations 
were immortal bodies for the breeding a succession 

" See (and it is worth while) this author has done here. He 

the character of Saunders in R. was not so contemptible a man. 

North's Life of the Lord Keeper See his argument upon the Quo 

Guildford, or also that of Saw- W^arranfoagainstthecityof Lon- 

yer, in the same book, which don, (which all lawjers deem a 

does Sawyer more justice than great performance.) &c. O. 


1 662. of trading men, and for perpetuating a fund of pub- 

lie chambers for the estates of orphans and trusts, 
and for all pious endowments : that crimes commit- 
ted by persons entrusted in the government of them 
were personal things, which were only chargeable on 
those who committed them, but could not affect the 
whole body : the treason of a bishop, or a clerk, 
only forfeited his title, but did not dissolve the bi- 
shopric, or benefice : so the magistrates only were to 
be punished for their own crimes : an entailed estate, 
when a tenant for life was attainted, was not for- 
feited to the king, but went to the next in remain- 
der upon his death. The government of a city, 
which was a temporary administration, vested no 
property in the magistrates : and therefore they had 
nothing to forfeit, but what belonged to themselves : 
, there were also express acts of parliament made in- 
favour of the city, that it should not be punished for 
the misdemeanors of those who bore office in it : 
they answered the gi'eat objection that was brought 
534 from the forfeitures of some abbeys on the attainder 
of their abbots in king Henry the eighth's time, 
that there were peculiar laws made at that time, 
upon which those forfeitures were grounded, which 
had been repealed since that time : all those forfeit- 
ures were confirmed in parliament : and that purged 
aU defects. The common council was a selected 
body, chosen for particular ends : and if they went 
beyond these, they were liable to be punished for it v 
if the petition they offered the king was seditious, 
the king might proceed against every man that was 
concerned in it : and those upon whom those taxes 
had been levied, might bring their actions against 
those who had levied them : but it seemed very 
strange, that when none of the petitioners were pro- 


ceeded against for any thing contained in that peti- i682. 

tion, and when no actions were brought on the ac-^ 

count of those taxes, that the whole body should 
suffer in common for that, which none of those who 
were immediately concerned in it had been so much 
as brought in question for in any court of law : if 
tlie common council petitioned more earnestly than 
was fitting for the sitting of the parliament, that 
ought to be ascribed to their zeal for the king's 
safety, and for the established religion : and it ought 
not to be strained to any other sense than to that 
which they profess in the body of their petition, 
much less to be carried so far as to dissolve the 
whole body on that account : and as for the tolls 
and taxes, these were tilings practised in aU the 
corporations of England, and seemed to be exactly 
according to law : the city since the fire had, at a 
vast charge, made their wharfs and markets much 
more noble and convenient than they were before : 
and therefore they might well deny the benefit of 
them to those who would not pay a new rate, that 
they set on them for the payment of the debt con- 
tracted in building them : this was not the imposing 
a tax, but the raising a rent out of a piece of ground, 
which the city might as well do, as a man who 
rebuilds his house may raise the rent of it : all 
the precedents that were brought were examined 
and answered : some corporations were deserted, 
and so upon the matter dissolved themselves ; judg- 
ments in such cases did not fit this in hand: the 
seizing on the liberties of a corporation did not dis- 
solve the body; for when a bishop dies, the king 
seizes the temporalties ; but the corporation still 
subsists ; and they are restored to the next incum- 

1682. bent. There were indeed some very strange prece- 

dents made in Richard the second's time : but they 
535 were followed by as strange a reverse : the judges 
were hanged for the judgments they gave : they 
also insisted on the effects that would foUow on the 
forfeiting the charter : the custom of London was 
thereby broken: all the public endowments and 
/ charities lodged with the city must revert to the 
heirs of the donors. This is the substance of the 
argument, as I had it from Pollexphen. As for the 
more intricate points of law, I meddle not with 
them, but leave them to the learned men of that 
profession. When the matter was brought near 
judgment, Sanders, who had laid the whole thing, 
was made chief justice. Pemberton, who was not 
satisfied in the point, being removed to the common 
pleas upon North's advancement. Dolben, a judge 
of the king's bench, was found not to be clear : so 
he was turned out, and Withins came in his room. 
Judgment When sentence was to be given, Sanders was struck 
tiirmatter. wlth an apoplcxy : [upon which great reflections 
were made :] so he could not come into court : but 
he sent his judgment in writing, and died a few 
days after. The sentence was given without the 
solemnity that was usual upon great occasions : the 
judges were wont formerly in delivering their opi- 
nions to make long arguments, in which they set 
forth the grounds of law on which they went, which 
were great instructions to the students and barris- 
ters : but that had been laid aside ever since Hale's 

The judgment now given was, that a city might 
forfeit its charter; that the maleversations of the 
common council were the acts of the whole city, 


and that the two points set forth in the ])leadings i682. 
were just grounds for the forfeiting of a charter. 
Upon which premises the proper conclusion seemed 
to be, that therefore the city of London had for- 
feited their charter : but the consequences of that 
were so much apprehended, that they did not think 
fit to venture on it ; so they judged, that the king 
might seize the liberties of the city. The attorney 
general moved, contrary to what is usual in such 
cases, that the judgment might not be recorded. 
And upon that, new endeavours were used to bring 
the common council to deliver up their charter : yet 
that could not be compassed, though it was brought 
much nearer in the numbers of the voices than was 
imagined could ever be done °. 

There were other very severe proceedings at this some other 
time with relation to particular pei*sons. Pilkinton mlnu/"' 
was sheriff of London the former year; an honest 
but an indiscreet man, that gave himself great liber- 
ties in discourse. He being desired to go along 536 
with the mayor and aldermen to compliment the 
duke upon his return from Scotland, declined going, 
and reflected on him as one concerned in the burn- 
ing of the city. Two aldermen said they heard 
that, and swore it against him. Sir Patience Ward, 
the mayor of the former year, seeing him go into 
that discourse, had diverted him from it, but heard 
not the words which the others swore to : and he 
deposed, that to the best of his remembrance he 
said not those words. Pilkinton was cast in an 

° ("After judgment was pro- "was conceived in general 

" nounced, the common coun- " terms, begging his majesty's 

" oil thought fit to agree that " pardon and favour to the di»- 

" an humble petition should be " tressed city." North's Exa- 

" presented to the king. It vienof the Critical Hist. p. 6$$) 



^^^^- 100,000/. damages, the most excessive that had ever 
been given p. But the matter did not stop there: 
Ward was indicted of perjury, it being said, that 
since he swore that the words were not spoken, and 
that the jury had given a verdict upon the evidence 
that they were spoken, by consequence he was guilty 
of perjury. It was said on the other side, that when 
two swear one way, and a third swears another way, 
a jury may believe the two better than the one : 
but it is not certain from thence that he is perjured : 
if that were law, no man would be a witness ; if, be- 
cause they of the other side were believed, he should 
be therefore convicted of perjury. A man's swearing 
to a negative, that such words were not spoken, did 
only amount to this, that he did not hear them : and 
it would be hard to prove that he who swore so had 
heard them. But Ward proved by him that took 
the trial in short hand, as he had done some others 
with great approbation, that he had said, to the best 
of his remembrance these words were not spoken 
by Pilkinton : upon which Jefferies had said, that 
his invention was better than his memory : and the 
attorney general, in summing up the evidence to the 
jury, had said, they ought to have no regard to 
Ward's evidence, since he had only deposed upon 
his memory. Yet that jury returned Ward guilty 
of perjury : and it was intended, if he had not gone 
out of the way, to have set him on the pillory. The 
tiuth is, juries became at that time the shame of the 
nation, as well as a reproach to religion ^ : for they 
were packed, and prepared to bring in verdicts as 

P (" By the law of England Hume's History of England, 

" ratified in the great charter Charles II. p. 350.) 

" no fine ought to extend to 1 So they are now. S. 
*' the total ruin of a criminal." 


they were directed, and not as matters appeared on 1682. 
the evidence. • — 

Thus affau^ were going on all the year eighty- igsa. 
two, and to the beginning of eighty-three. The ^" '^p'' 
earl of Shaftsbury had been for making use of the *'*'• s^u 
heat the city was in during the contest about the "* 
sheriffs; and thought they might have created a 
great disturbance, and made themselves masters of 
the tower : and he believed, the first appearance of 
the least disorder would have prevailed on the king 537 
to yield ever}^ thing. The duke of Monmouth, who 
understood what a rabble was, and what troops were, 
looked on this as a mad exposing of themselves and 
of their friends. The lords Essex and Russel were 
of the same mind. So lord Shaftsbury, seeing they 
could not be engaged into action, flew out against 
them. He said, the duke of Monmouth was sent 
into the party by the king for this end, to keep all 
things quiet, till the court had gained its point : he 
said, lord Essex had also made his bargain, and was 
to go* to Ireland; and that among them lord Russel 
was deceived. With this he endeavoured to blast 
them in the city : they studied to prevent the ill ef- 
fects that those jealousies which he was infusing into 
the citizens might have among them. So the duke 
of Monmouth gave an appointment to lord Shafts- 
bury or some of his friends to meet him, and some 
others that he should brinff alonff with him, at Shep- Monmouth 

. , , J .and Ru«»el 

herd's, a wine merchant in whom they had an entire .t sbep- 
confidence. The night before this appointment, lord 
Russel came to town on the account of his uncle's 
illness. The duke of Monmouth went to him, and 
told him of the appointment, and desired he woiUd 

z 2 


1683. go thither with him : he consented, the rather be- 
cause he intended to taste some of that merchant's 
wine. At night, they went with lord Grey and sir 
Thomas Armstrong. When they came, they found 
none there but Rumsey and Ferguson, two of lord 
Shaftsbury's tools that he employed: upon which 
they, seeing no better company, resolved immediately 
to go back. But lord Russel called for a taste of 
the wines : and while they were bringing it him up, 
Rumsey and Armstrong fell into a discourse of sur- 
prising the guards. Rumsey fancied it might have 
been easily done : Armstrong, that had commanded 
them, shewed him his mistakes. This was no con- 
sultation about what was to be done, but only about 
what might have been done. Lord Russel spoke 
nothing upon the subject : but as soon as he had 
tasted his wines they went away. It may seem 
that this is too light a passage to be told so copious- 
ly : but much depends on it. Lord Shaftsbury had 
one meeting with the earls of Essex and Salisbury 
before he went out of England. Fear, anger, and 
disappointment had wrought so much on him, that 
lord Essex told me he was much broken in his 
thoughts : his notions were wild and impracticable : 
and he was glad that he was gone out of England : 
but said, that he had done them already a great 
538 deal of mischief, and would have done more if he 
had stayed. As soon as he was gone, the lords and 
all the chief men of the party saw their danger from 
forward sheriffs, willing juries, mercenary judges, 
and bold witnesses. So they resolved to go home, 
and be silent, to speak and to meddle as Uttle as 
might be in public business, and to let the present 
ill temper the nation was fallen into wear out : for 


they did not doubt but the court, especially as it i683. 
was now managed by the duke, would soon bring 
the nation again into its wits by their ill conduct 
and proceedings. All that was to be done was to 
keep up as much as they could a good spirit with 
relation to elections of parliament, if one should be 

The duke of Monmouth resolved to be advised Monmouth 
chiefly by lord Essex. He would not be alone in other, 
that, but named lord Russel, against whom no ob- "y^^hfr!" 
jection could lie : and next to him he named Alger- 
noon Sidney, brother to the earl of Leicester, a man 
of most extraordinai*y courage, a steady man, even 
to obstinacy, sincere, but of a rough and boisterous 
temper, that could not bear contradiction, [but would 
give foul language upon it.] He seemed to be a 
Christian, but in a particular form of his own : he 
thought it was to be like a divine philosophy in the 
mind: but he was against all public worship, and 
every thing that looked like a church. He was stiff 
to all republican principles, and such an enemy to 
every thing that looked like monarchy, that he set 
himself in a high opposition against Cromwell when 
he was made protector. He had studied the his- 
tory of government in all its branches beyond any 
man I ever knew'. He was ambassador in Uen- 

>■ When Sidney's large book destroy all govenunent : sir 

upon government came out, in William answered, that was for 

the reign of king William, sir want of knowing the author, 

William Temple asked me if I for there was one passage in it 

had seen it : I told him I had that explained the whole, which 

read it all over ; he could not was this : " If there be any 

help admiring at my patience, " such thing as divine right, it 

but desired to know what 1 '• must be where one man i* 

thought of it : I said it seemed " better qualified to govern an- 

to me wrote with a design to " other than he is to govern 



1683. niark^ at the time of the restoration, but did not come 
back till the year seventy-eight, when the parliament 
was pressing the king into a war. The court of 
France obtained leave for him to return. He did all he 
could to divert people from that war ' : so that some 
took him for a pensioner of France : but to those to 
whom he durst speak freely he said, he knew it was 
all a juggle ; that our court was in an entire confi- 
dence with France, and had no other design in this 
shew of a war but to raise an army, and keep it be- 
yond sea till it was trained and modeled. Sidney 
had a particular way of insinuating himself into peo- 
ple that would hearken to his notions, and not con- 
tradict him. He tried me : but I was not so sub- 
missive a hearer : so we lived afterwards at a great 
distance. He wrought himself into lord Essex's 
confidence to such a degree, that he became the 
539 master of his spirit ". He had a great kindness for 
lord Howard, as was formerly told : for that lord 
hated both the king and monarchy as much as he 
himself did. He prevailed on lord Essex to take 
lord Howard into their secrets, though lord Essex 
had expressed such an ill opinion of him a little be- 
fore to me, as to say he wondered how any man 

" himself : such a persou seems confirmed by his letters to 

" by God and nature designed Henry Savile, ambassador in 

" to govern the other, for his that country, first edited in 

" benefit and happiness." Now 1742. See particularly p. 150.) 
I that knew him very well, can " This perhaps may explain 

assure you, that he looked upon what is said of the earl of Es- 

himself to be that very " man, sex in lord Gray's paper, here- 

" so qualified to govern the rest after mentioned, page 646. By 

" of all mankind." D. that paper it looks as if he 

* For Cromwell. S. (Not (lord Essex) was become in- 

Oliver, but Richard Cromwell.) clined to republicanism. But 

' (This account of his op- lord Russel far otherwise ; see 

posing a war with France is page 562. O. 


would trust himself alone with him. Lord Russel, i683. 

though his cousin german, had the same ill opinion 

of him. Yet Sidney overcame both their aversions. 
Lord Howard had made the duke of Monmouth 
enter into confidence with Sidney, who used to 
speak very slightly of him, and to say, it was all 
one to him whether James duke of York or James 
duke of Monmouth was to succeed. Yet lord How- 
ard perhaps put a notion into him, which he offered 
often to me, that a prince who knew there was a 
flaw in his title would always govern well, and con- 
sider himself as at the mercy of the right heir, if he 
was not in all things in the interests and hearts of 
his people, which was often neglected by j)rinces 
that relied on an undoubted title. Lord Howard, by 
a trick put both on the duke of Monmouth and Sid- 
ney, brought them to be acquainted. He told Sidney 
that the duke of Monmouth was resolved to come 
some day alone and dine with him : and he made 
the duke of Monmouth believe that Sidney desired 
this, that so he might not seem to come and court 
the duke of Monmouth : and said that some regard 
was to be had to his temper and age. Hamden was 
also taken into their secret : he was the grandson of 
him that had pleaded the cause of England in the 
point of the ship-money with king Charles the first. 
His father was a very eminent man, and had been 
zealous in the exclusion : he was a young man of 
great parts ; one of the leamedest gentlemen I have 
ever known; for he was a critic both in Latin, 
Greek, and Hebrew : he was a man of great heat 
and vivacity, but too unequal in his temper: he 
had once great principles of religion : but he was 

z 4 


1683. much corrupted by P. Simon's conversation at Pa- 

ns ''. 
They treat With thcsc men the duke of Monmouth met 

with some 

of the Scot- often. His interest in Scotland, both by the de- 

ub nation. ^ _ '' ^ 

pendence that his wife's great estate brought him, 
but chiefly by the knowledge he had of their affairs 
while he was among them, and by the confidence 
he knew they had all in him, made him turn his 
thoughts much towards that kingdom, as the pro- 
perest scene of action. He had met often with lord 
Argile while he was in London, and had many con- 
540 ferences with him of the state of that kingdom, and 
of what might be done there : and he thought the 
business of Carolina was a very proper blind to 
bring up some of the Scotch gentlemen under the 
appearance of treating about that. They upon this 
agreed to send one Aaron Smith to Scotland, to de- 
sire that some men of absolute confidence might be 
sent up for that end. So when the proclamation 
that was formerly mentioned was published, it 
spread such an universal apprehension through all 
the suspected counties, that they looked on them- 
selves as marked out to destruction : and it is very 
natural for people under such impressions to set 
themselves to look out for remedies as soon as they 

In the beginning of April some of them came up. 

* (The truth of this account and which was printed in the 

is confirmed by a passage of London Chronicle for Feb. 

some length, in Mr. Hambden's 1759. The number of the 

Confession of his offences a- Chronicle, in which the Confes- 

gainst Piety and Religion, which sion appears, is preserved in 

had been placed by his direc- the earl of Onslow's copy of 

lion in the hands, successively, this History.) 
of bishops Patrick and Kidder, 


The person that was most entirely trusted, and to 1683. 

whom the journey proved fatal, was Baillie, of 

whose unjust treatment upon Carstairs's information- 
an account was formerly given y. He was my cousin 
german : so I knew him well. He was in the pres- 
byterian principles, but was a man of great piety 
and virtue, learned in the law, in mathematics, and 
in languages : I went to him, as soon as I heard he 
was come, in great simplicity of heart, thinking of 
nothing but of Carolina. I was only afraid they 
might go too much into the company of the Eng- 
lish, and give true representations of the state of 
aifairs in Scotland : this might be reported about by 
men that would name them : and that might bring 
them into trouble. But a few weeks after, I found 
they came not to me as they were wont to do : and 
I heard they were often with lord Russel. I was 
apprehensive of this : and lord Essex being in the 
country, I went to him, to warn him of the danger 
I feared lord Russel might be brought into by this 
conversation with my countrymen. He diverted 
me from all my apprehensions; and told me, I 
might depend on it, lord Russel would be in no- 
thing without acquainting him : and he seemed to 
agree entirely with me, that a rising in the state in 
which things were then would be fatal. I always 
said, that when the root of the constitution was 
struck at to be overturned, then I thought subjects 
might defend themselves : but I thought jealousies 
and fears, and particular acts of injustice, could not 
warrant this. He did agree with me in this: he 
thought, the obligation between prince and subject 

y (See above, page 400.) 


1683. was so equally mutual, that upon a breach on the 
one side, the other was free : but though he thought 
the late injustice in London, and the end that was 
driven at by it, did set them at liberty to look to 
541 themselves, yet he confessed things were not ripe 
enough yet, and that an iU laid and ill managed 
rising would be our ruin. I was then newly come 
from writing my history of the reformation; and 
did so evidently see, that the struggle for lady Jean 
Grey, and Wyat's rising was that which threw the 
nation so quickly into popery after king Edward's 
days, (for such as had rendered themselves obnox- 
ious in those matters saw no other way to secure 
themselves, and found their turning was a sure 
one,) that I was now very apprehensive of this ; be- 
sides that I thought it was yet unlawful. What 
passed between the Scots and the English lords I 
know not ; only that lord Argile, who was then in 
Holland, asked at first 20,000/. for buying a stock 
of arms and ammunition, which he afterwards 
brought down to 8000/. and a thousand horse to be 
sent into Scotland : upon which he undertook the 
conduct of that matter. I know no further than ge- 
neral hints of their matters : for though Hamden of- 
fered frequently to give me a particular account of 
it all, knowing that I was writing the history of 
that time, yet I told him, that till by an indemnity 
that whole matter was buried, I would know none 
of those secrets, which I might be obliged to reveal, 
or to lie and deny my knowledge of them : so to 
avoid that, I put it off at that time. And when I 
returned to England at the revolution, we appointed 
often to meet, in order to a full relation of it all. 
But by several accidents it went off, as a thing is 


apt to do which one can recover at any time. And 1(593 . 

so his unhappy end came on before I had it from 

him\ I know this, that no money was raised. 
But the thing had got some vent ; for my own bro- 
ther, a zealous presbyterian, who was come from 
Scotland, it not being safe for him to live any longer 
in that kingdom, knowing that he had conversed 
with many that had been in the rebellion, told me, 
there was certainly somewhat in agitation among 
them, about which some of their teachers had let 
out somewhat very freely to himself: how far that 
matter went, and how the scheme was laid, I cannot 
tell ; and so must leave it in the dark. Their con- 
tract for the project of Carolina seemed to go on 
apace : they had sent some thither the former year, 
who were now come back, and brought them a par- 
ticular account of every thing: they likewise, to 
cover their negotiations with lord Argile, sent some 
over to him ; but with the blind of instructions for 
buying ships in Holland, and other things necessary 
for their transportation. 

While this matter was thus in a close manage- 542 
ment among them, there was another company of |^*J;;;^^»* 
lord Shaftsbury's creatures that met in the Temple, meet .t th« 

•' ^ . Mmf tune 

in the chambers of one West, a witty and active on .lesigm 

1 of Bftimftti- 

man, full of talk, and believed to be a determmed n«ting tb« 
atheist. Rumsey and Ferguson came constantly '""*^- 
thither. The former of these was an officer in 
Cromwell's army, who went into Portugal with the 
forces that served there under Schomberg. He did 
a brave action in that service : and Schomlierg writ 
a particular letter to the king setting it out : upon 
which he got a place : and he had applied himself to 
'^ (Sec below, page 647.) 


1683. lord Shaftsbury as his patron. He was much trusted 
by him, and sent often about on messages. Once 
or twice he came to lord Russel, but it was upon 
indifferent things. Lord Russel said to me, that at 
that very time he felt such a secret aversion to him, 
that he was in no danger of trusting him much. He 
was one of the bold talkers, and kept chiefly among 
lord Shaftsbury's creatures. He was upon all the 
secret of his going beyond sea; which seemed to 
shew, that he was not then a spy of the court's, 
which some suspected he was aU along. Ferguson 
was a hot and a bold man, whose spirit was na- 
turally turned to plotting : he was always unquiet, 
and setting people on to some mischief: I knew a 
private thing of him, by which it appeared he was 
a profligate knave, and could cheat those that 
trusted him entirely : so though he, being a Scotish 
man, took all the ways he could to be admitted into 
some acquaintance with me, I would never see him 
or speak with him : and I did not know his face till 
the revolution : he was cast out by the presbyte- 
rians : and then went among the independents, 
where his boldness raised him to some figure, 
though he was at bottom a very empty man : he 
had the management of a secret press, and of a 
purse that maintained it : and he gave about most 
of the pamphlets writ of that side : and with some 
he passed for the author of them : and such was his 
vanity, because this made him more considerable, 
that he was not ill pleased to have that beheved ; 
though it only exposed him so much the more. 
With these, Goodenough, who had been under-she- 
riff of London in Bethel's year, and one Halloway 
pf Bristol, met often, and had a great deal of ram- 


bling discourse, to shew how easy a thing it was of igss. 

the sudden to raise four thousand men in the city. 

Goodenough, by reason of his office, knew the city 
well, and pretended he knew many men of so much 
credit in every corner of it, and on whom they 
might depend, as could raise that number, which he 543 
reckoned would quickly grow much stronger: and 
it is probable, this was the scheme with which lord 
Shaftsbury was so possessed, that he thought it 
might be depended on. They had many discourses 
of the heads of a declaration proper for such a ris- 
ing, and disputed of these with much subtilty, as 
they thought : and they intended to send Halloway 
to Bristol, to try what could be done there at the 
same time. But all this was only talk, and went 
no further than to a few of their own confidents. 
Rumsey, Ferguson, and West were often talking of 
the danger of executing this, and that the shorter 
and surer way was to kill the two brothers. One 
Rumbold, who had served in Cromwell's army, came 
twice among them ; and while they were in that 
wicked discourse, which they expressed by the term 
lopping. He upon that told them, he had a farm 
near Hodsden, in the way to Newmarket : and there 
was a moat cast round his house, through which the 
king sometimes passed in his way thither. He said, 
once the coach went through quite alone, without 
any of the guards about it ; and that, if he had laid 
any thing cross the way to have stopped the coach 
but a minute, he could have shot them both, and 
have rode away through grounds that he knew so 
well, that it should not have been possible to have 
followed him. Upon which they ran into much 
wicked talk about the way of executing that. But 


1683. nothing was ever fixed on : all was but talk ^. At 
one time lord Howard was among them : and they 
talked over their several schemes of lopping. One 
of them was to be executed in the playhouse. Lord 
Howard said, he liked that best, for then they would 
die in their calling. This was so like his way of 
talk, that it was easily believed, though he always 
denied it. Walcot, an Irish gentleman that had 
been of CromweD's army, was now in London, and 
got into that company : and he was made believe, 
that the thing was so well laid, that many both in 
city and country were engaged in it. He liked the 
project of a rising, but declared he would not med- 
dle in their lopping. So this wicked knot of men 
continued their caballings from the time that the 
earl of Shaftsbury went away : and these were the 
subjects of their discourses. The king went con- 
stantly to Newmarket for about a month both in 
April and October. In April while he was there a 
fire broke out, and burnt a part of the to^vn : upon 
which the king came back a week sooner than he 
544 While all these things were thus going on, there 
A plot is ^gg Q^g Keelinff, an anabaptist, in London, who 

discovered. ^ r ' 

was sinking in his business, and began to think that 
of a witness would be the better trade. Goodenough 
had employed him often to try their strength in the 
city, and to count on whom they could depend for a 
sudden rising : he had also talked to him of the de- 
sign of killing the two brothers : so he went and 
discovered all he could to Leg, at that time made 
lord Dartmouth. Leg made no great account of it, 

* All plots begin with talk. S. 


but sent him to Jenkins. Jenkins took his deposi- i683. 

tions, but told him he could not proceed in it with-" 

out more witnesses : so he went to his brother, who 
was a man of heat in his way, but of probity, who 
did not incline to ill designs, and less to discover 
them. Keeling carried his brother to Goodenough, 
and assured him he might be depended on. So 
Goodenough run out into a rambling discourse of 
what they both could and would do : and he also 
spoke of killing the king and the duke, which would 
make theii* work easy. When they left him, the 
discoverer pressed his brother to go along with him 
to Westminster, where he pretended business, but 
stopped at Whitehall. The other was uneasy, long- 
ing to get out of his company, to go to some friends 
for advice upon what had happened. But he drew 
him on : and at last, he not knowing whither he 
was going, he drew him into Jenkins's office : and 
there told the secretary he had brought another 
witness, who had heard the substance of the plot 
from Goodenough's own mouth just then. His bro- 
ther was deeply struck with this cheat and surprise, 
but could not avoid the making oath to Jenkins of 
all he had heard. The secretary, whose phlegmatic 
head was not turned for such a work, let them both 
go, and sent out no warrants, till he had communi- 
cated the matter to the rest of the ministry, the 
king being then at Windsor. So Keeling, who had 
been thus drawn into the snare by his brother, sent 
advertisements to Goodenough, and all the other 
persons whom he had named, to go out of the way. 
Rumsey and West were at this time perpetually 
together: and apprehending that they had trusted 
themselves to too many persons, who might discover 


i683. them, they laid a story, in which they resolved to 

agree so weU together, that they should not con- 

A forged tradict one another. They framed their story thus : 

stors- laid • i i i • n 

by Rumsey that they had laid the design of their rising to be 
executed on the seventeenth of November, the day 
of queen Elizabeth's coming to the crown, on which 
545 the citizens used to run together, and carry about 
popes in procession, and burn them : so that day 
seemed proper to cover their running together, tiU 
they met in a body. Others, they said, thought it 
best to do nothing on that day, the rout being 
usually at night, but to lay their rising for the next 
Sunday, at the hour of people's being at church. 
This was laid to shew how near the matter was to 
the being executed. But the part of their story 
that was the best laid, (for this looked ridiculous, 
since they could not name any one person of any 
condition that was to head this rising,) was, that 
they pretended that Rumbold had offered them his 
house in the heath for executing the design. It 
was called Rye : and from thence this was called 
the Rye-plot. He asked forty men, weU armed and 
mounted, whom Rumsey and Walcot were to com- 
mand in two parties : the one was to engage the 
guards, if they should be near the coach : and the 
other was to stop the coach, and to murder the 
king and the duke. Rumsey took the wicked part 
on himself, saying, that Walcot had made a scruple 
of killing the king, but none of engaging the guai-ds: 
so Rumsey was to do the execution. And they said, 
they were divided in their minds what to do next : 
some were for defending the moat till night, and 
then to have gone off: others were for riding 
through grounds in a shorter way towards the 


Thames. Of these forty, they could name but i683. 

eight. But it was pretended that Walcot, Good- 

enough, and Rumbold, had undertaken to find both 
the rest of the men and the horses: for, though 
upon such an occasion men would have taken care 
to have had sure and well tried horses, this also was 
said to be trusted to others. As for arms. West had 
bought some, as on a commission for a plantation : 
and these were said to be some of the arms with 
which they were to be furnished; though when 
they were seen, they seemed very improper For such 
a service. I saw aU West's narrative, which was 
put in lord Rochester's hands : and a friend of mine 
borrowed it of him, and lent it me. They were so 
wise at court, that they would not suffer it to be 
printed ; for then it would have appeared too gi'oss 
to be believed. 

But the part of it all that seemed the most amaz- 
ing was, that it was to have been executed on the 
day in which the king had intended to return from 
Newmarket. But the happy fire that sent him away 
a week sooner, had quite defeated the whole plot, 
while it was within a week of its execution, and 
neither horses, men, nor arms yet provided. This 546 
seemed to be so eminent a providence, that the 
whole nation was struck with it : and both preach- 
ers and poets had a noble subject to enlarge on, and 
to shew how much the king and the duke were 
under the watchful care of Providence. 

Witliin three days after Reeling's discovery the 
plot broke out, and became the whole discourse of 
the town. Many examinations were taken, and se- 
veral persons were clapt up upon it. Among these,' 
Wildman was one, who had been an agitator in 

VOL. II. A a 


1(583. Cromwell's army, and had opposed his protectorship. 
After the restoration, he being looked on as a high 
republican was kept long in prison ; where he had 
studied law and physic so much, that he passed as 
a man very knowing in those matters. He had a 
way of creating in others a gi'eat opinion of his sa- 
gacity, and had great credit with the duke of Buck- 
ingham, and was now very active under Sidney's 
conduct. He was seized on, and his house was 
searched: in his cellars there happened to be two 
small field-pieces that belonged to the duke of 
Buckingham, and that lay in York-house when 
that was sold, and was to be pulled down : Wild- 
man carried those two pieces, which were finely 
wrought, but of httle use, into his cellars, where 
they were laid on ordinary wooden carriages, and 
no way fitted for any service : yet these were car- 
ried to Whitehall, and exposed to view, as an unde- 
niable proof of a rebellion designed, since here was 
their cannon. 

Several persons came to me from court, assuring 
me that there was fiiU proof made of a plot. Lord 
Howard coming soon after them to see me, talked 
of the whole matter in his spiteful way with so 
much scorn, that I really thought he knew of no- 
thing, and by consequence I believed there was no 
truth in all these discoveries. He said, the court 
knew they were sure of juries, and they would fur- 
nish themselves quickly with witnesses: and he 
spoke of the duke as of one that would be worse, 
not only than queen Mary, but than Nero : and 
with eyes and hands lifted to heaven, he vowed to 
me, that he knew of no plot, and that he believed 
nothing of it. 


Two days after, a proclamation came out for seL&- i683. 
ing on some who could not be found : and among 
these, Rumsey and West were named. The next 
day West delivered himself: and Rumsey came in 
a day after him. These two brought out their 
story, which, how incredible soever it was, passed so 
for certain, that any man that seemed to doubt it 
was concluded to be in it. That of defending them- 547 
selves within mud walls and a moat, looked like the 
invention of a lawyer, who could not lay a military 
contrivance with any sort of probabiUty. Nor did 
it appeal' where the forty horse were to be lodged, 
and how they were to be brought together. All 
these were thought objections that could be made 
by none but those who either were of it, or wished 
well to it. These new witnesses had also heard of 
the conferences that the duke of Monmouth and the 
other lords had with those who were come from 
Scotland, but knew nothing of it themselves. Rum- 
sey did likewise remember the discourse at Shep- 
herd's. ^ 

When the council found the duke of Monmouth Rut^i uid 

... some otbcn 

and lord Russel were named, they writ to the king wer* put in 
to come to London: they would not venture to goJ'"*°°"'*" 
further without his presence and leave. A messen- 
ger of the council was sent the morning before the 
king came, to wait at lord Russel's gate, to have 
stopped him, if lie had offered to go out. This was 
observed ; for he walked many hours there : and it 
was looked on as done on purpose to frighten him 
away: for his back gate was not watched: so for 
several hours he might have gone away if he had 
intended it. He heard that Rumsey had named 
him : but he knew he had not trusted him, and he 



1683. never reflected on the discourse at Shepherd's. He 
sent his wife among his friends for advice. They 
were of different minds : but since he said he ap- 
prehended nothing from any thing he had said to 
Rumsey, they thought his going out of the way 
would give the court too great an advantage, and 
would look like a confessing of guilt. So this agree- 
ing with his own mind, he stayed at home tUl the 
king was come : and then a messenger was sent to 
carry him before the council. He received it very 
composedly, and went thither, Rumsey had also 
said, that at Shepherd's there was some discourse 
of Trenchard's undertaking to raise a body out of 
Taunton, and of his failing in it : so lord Russel 
was examined upon that, the king telling him, that 
nobody suspected him of any design against his per- 
son, but that he had good evidence of his being in 
designs against his government. Lord Russel pro- 
tested, he had heard nothing relating to Trenchard : 
and said to the last, that either it was a fiction o( 
Rumsey's, or it had passed between him and Arm- 
strong, while he was walking about the room, or 
tasting the wines at Shepherd's ; for he had not 
heard a word of it. Upon all this he was sent a 
close prisoner to the tower. 
548 Sidney was brought next before the council. But 
his examination lasted not long. He said, he must 
make the best defence he could, if they had any 
proof against him : but he would not fortify their 
evidence by any thing he should say. And indeed 
that was the wisest course ; for the answering ques- 
tions upon such examinations is a very dangerous 
thing : every word that is said is laid hold on, that 
can be turned against a man's self or his friends. 


and no regard is had to what he might say in favoar i683. 
of them : and it had been happy for the rest, espe- 
cially for Baillie, if they had all held to this maxim. 
There was at that time no sort of evidence against 
Sidney, so that his commitment was against law. 
Trenchai'd was also examined: he denied every 
thing. But one point of his guilt was well known : 
he was the first man that had moved the exclusion 
in the house of commons : so he was reckoned a lost 

BailUe and two other gentlemen of Scotland, lx)th 
Campbells, had changed their lodgings while the 
town was in this fermentation : and upon that they 
were seized on as suspected persons, and brought 
before the king. He himself examined them, and 
first questioned them about the design against his 
person, which they very frankly answered, and de- 
nied they knew any thing about it. Then he asked 
them, if they had been in any consultations with 
lords or others in England, in order to an insurrec- 
tion in Scotland. Baillie faultered at this, for his 
conscience restrained him from lying ^. He said, he 
did not know the importance of those questions, nor 
what use might be made of his answers : he desired 
to see them in writing ; and then he would consider 
how to answer them. Both the king and the duke 
threatened him upon this : and he seemed to neg- 
lect that with so mucli of the air of a philosopher, 
that it provoked them out of measure against him. 
The other two were so lately come from Scotland^ 
that they had seen nobody, and knew nothing. 
Baillie was loaded by a special diiection with very 

^ The author and his cousins could not tell lies, but they could 
plot. S. 

A a3 


1683. heavy irons: so that for some weeks his life was a 
burden to him. Cockran, another of those who had 
been concerned in this treaty, was complained of, as 
having talked very freely of the duke's government 
of Scotland. Upon which the Scotish secretary 
sent a note to him desiring him to come to him ; for 
it was intended only to give him a reprimand, and 
to have ordered him to go to Scotland. But he 
knew his own secret : so he left his lodgings, and 
549 got beyond sea. This shewed the court had not yet 
got full evidence : otherwise he would have been 
taken up, as well as others were. 
Monmouth As soou as the council rose, the king went to the 

and others 

escaped, duchcss of Moumouth's, and seemed so much con- 
cerned for the duke of Monmouth, that he wept as 
he spoke to her. That duke told a strange passage 
relating to that visit to the lord Cutts, from whom I 
had it. The king told his lady, that some were to 
come and search her lodgings : but he had given 
order that no search should be made in her apart- 
ments : so she might conceal him safely in them. 
But the duke of Monmouth added, that he knew 
him too well to trust him : so he went out of his 
lodgings. And it seems he judged right : for the 
place that was first searched for him was her rooms : 
but he was gone ^ : and he gave that for the reason 
why he could never trust the king after that. It is 
not likely the king meant to proceed to extremities 
with him, but that he intended to have him in his 
own hands, and in his power. 

^ Mr. Francis Gwin (secretary she remembered any thing of 

at war in queen Anne's time) this story ; she answered, it 

told me, that as soon as this was impossible she should, for 

book was published, he asked there was not one word of it 

the duchess of Monmouth if true. D. 


An order was sent to bring up the lord Grey, i()83. 

which met him coming up. He was brought before 

the council, where he behaved himself with great 
presence of mind. He was sent to the tower. But 
the gates were shut : so he staid in the messenger's 
hands all night, whom he furnished so liberally mth 
wine, that he was dead drunk. Next morning he 
went with him to the tower gate, the messenger 
being again fast asleep ^. He himself called at the 
tower gate, to bring the lieutenant of the tower to 
receive a prisoner. But he began to think he might 
be in danger : he found Rumsey was one witness : 
and if another should come in, he was gone : so he 
called for a pair of oars, and went away, leaving the 
drunken messenger fast asleep. WaiTants were 
sent for several other persons: some went out of 
the way, and others were dismissed after some 
months' imprisonment. The king shewed some ajv 
pearance of sincerity in examining the witnesses: 
he told them he woiUd not have a growing evidence: 
and so he charged them to tell out at once all that 
they knew : he led them into no accusations by ask- 
ing them any questions : he only asked them tf 
Oates was in their secret : they answered, that they 
all looked on him as such a rogue, that they would 
not trust him. The king also said, he found lord 
Howard was not among them, and he believed that 
was upon the same account. There were many 
more persons named, and more particulars set down 
in West's narrative, than the court thought fit 10550 
make use of: for they had no appearance of truth 
in them. 

Lord Russel, from the time of his imprisonmeot, 
^ la tkis a blunder ? S. 
A a 4 


1693. looked upon himself as a dead man, and turned his 
thoughts wholly to another world. He read much 
in the scriptures, particularly in the psalms, and 
read Baxter's dying thoughts. He was as serene 
and calm as if he had been in no danger at all. A 
committee of council came to examine him upon 
the design of seizing on the guards, and about his 
treating with the Scots. He answered them civilly ; 
and said, that he was now preparing for his trial, 
where he did not doubt but he should answer every 
thing that could be objected to him. From him 
they went to Sidney, who treated them more rough- 
ly : he said, it seemed they wanted evidence, and 
therefore they were come to draw it from his own 
mouth ; but they should have nothing from him. 
Upon this examination of lord Russel, in which his 
treating with the Scots was so positively charged on 
him, as a thing of which they were well assured, his 
lady desired me to see who this could be that had 
so charged him : but this appeared to be only an ar- 
tifice, to draw a confession from him. Cochran was 
gone : and Baillie was a close prisoner, and was very 
ill used : none were admitted to him. I sent to the 
keeper of the prison to let him want for nothing, 
and that I should see him paid. I also at his desire 
sent him books for his entertainment, for which I 
was threatened with a prison. I said, I was his 
nearest kinsman in the place, and this was only to 
do as I would be done by. From what I found 
(V among the Scots I quieted the fears of lord Russel's 

Lord Howard was still going about, and protest- 
ing to every person he saw that there was no plot, 
and that he knew of none : yet he seemed to be un- 


der a consteniation all the while. Lord Russel told i6s3. 
me, he was with him when the news was brought 
that West had delivered himself, upon which he 
saw him change colour : and he asked him, if he 
apprehended any thing from him? He confessed, 
he had been as free with him as with any man. 
Hamden saw him afterwards under great fears : and 
upon that he wished him to go out of the way, if he 
thought there was matter against him, and if he had 
not a strength of mind to suffer any thing that 
might happen to him. The king spoke of him with 
such contempt, that it was not probable that he was 
aU this while in correspondence with the court. 

At last, four days before lord Russel's trial, he 551 
was taken in his own house after a long search ; and ""*»".''* 

o ' confession. 

was found standing up within a chimney. As soon 
as he was taken, he fell a crying : and at his first 
examination he told, as he said, all that he knew. 
West and Rumsey had resolved only to charge some 
of the lower sort ; but had not laid every thing so 
weU together, but that they were found contradict- 
ing one another. So Rumsey charged West for con- 
cealing some things : upon which he was laid in 
irons, and was threatened with being hanged : for 
three days he would eat nothing, and seemed re- 
solved to starve himself: but nature overcame his 
resolutions : and then he told all he knew, and per- 
haps more than he knew ; for I believe it was at 
this time that he wrote his narrative. And in that 
he told a new story of lord Howard, which was not ^^ 
very credible, that he thought the best way of kill- 
ing the king and the duke, was for the duke of 
Monmouth to fall into Newmarket with a body of 
three or four hundred horse when they were all 


1683. asleep, and so to take them aU.: as if it had been an 
easy matter to get such a body together, and to carry 
them thither invisibly upon so desperate a service 
Upon lord Howard's examination, he told a long 
story of lord Shaftsbury's design of raising the city : 
he affirmed, that the duke of Monmouth had told 
him, how Trenchard had undertaken to bring a body 
of men from Taunton, but had failed in it : he con- 
firmed that of a rising intended in the city on the 
seventeenth or the nineteenth of November last : 
but he knew of nobody that was to be at the head 
of it. So this was looked on as only talk. But that 
which came more home was, that he owned there 
was a council of six settled, of which he himself was 
one ; and that they had had several debates among 
. them concerning an insurrection, and where it 
should begin, whether in the city or in the country ; 
but that they resolved to be iSrst well informed con- 
cerning the state Scotland was in ; and that Sidney 
had sent Aaron Smith to Scotland, to bring him a 
sure information from thence, and that he gave him 
sixty guineas for his journey : more of that matter 
he did not know ; for he had gone out of town to 
the Bath, and to his estate in the country. During 
his absence, the lords began to apprehend their error 
in trusting him : and upon it lord Essex said to lord 
Russel, as the last told me in prison, that the put- 
ting themselves in the power of such a man would 
be their reproach as weU as their ruin, for trusting 
552 a man of so iU a chai'acter : so they resolved to talk 
no more to him : but at his next coming to town 
they told him, they saw it was necessary at present 
to give over all consultations, and to be quiet : and 
after that they saw liim very little. Hamden was 

•eat to the 


upon lord Howard's discovery seized on: he, when igg?. 

examined, desired not to be pressed with questioiB : 

so he was sent to the tower. 

A party of horse was sent to bring up lord Essex, The eari of 
who had staid all this while at his house in the^**"''" 
country ; and seemed so little apprehensive of dan-* 
ger, that his own lady did not imagine he had any 
concern on his mind. He was offered to be con- 
veyed away very safely : but he would not stir. His 
tenderness for lord Russel was the cause of this : for 
he thought his going out of the way might incline 
the jury to believe the evidence the more for his ab- 
sconding. He seemed resolved, as soon as he saw 
how that went, to take care of himself. When the 
party came to bring him up, he was at first in some 
disorder, yet he recovered himself. But when he 
came before the council, he was in much confusion. 
He was sent to the tower : and there he fell under 
a great depression of spirit : he could not sleep at 
all. He had fallen before that twice under great 
fits of the spleen, which returned now upon him 
with more violence. He sent by a servant, whom 
he had long trusted, and who was suffered to come 
to him, a very melancholy message to his wife ; that 
what he was charged with was true : he was sorry 
he had mined her and her children : but he had 
sent for the earl of Clarendon, to talk freely to him, 
who had married his sister. She immediately sent 
back the servant, to beg of him that he would not 
think of her or her children, but only study to sup- 
port his own spirits ; and desired him to say nothing 
to lord Clarendon nor to any body else, till she 
should come to him, which she was in hope to ob- 
tain leave to do in a day or two. Lord Claiendon 


1683. came to him upon his message : but he turned the 
matter so well to him, as if he had been only to ex- 
plain somewhat that he had mistaken himself in, 
when he was before the council : but as to that for 
which he was clapt up, he said there was nothing in 
it, and it would appear how innocent he was. So 
lord Clarendon went away in a great measure satis- 
fied, as he himself told me. His lady had another 
message from him, that he was much calmer ', espe- 
cially when he found how she took his condition to 
heart, without seeming concerned for her own share 
in it. He ordered many things to be sent to him : 
553 and among other things he called at several times 
for a penknife, with which he used to pare his nails 
very nicely : so this was thought intended for an 
amusement. But it was not brought from his house 
in the country, though sent for. And when it did 
not come, he called for a razor, and said that would 
do as well. The king and the duke came to the 
tower that morning, as was given out, to see some 
invention about the ordinance. As they were going 
into their barge, the cry came after them of what 
had happened to lord Essex : for his man, thinking 
he staid longer than ordinary in his closet ^, said, he 
looked through the key-hole, and there saw him ly- 
ing dead : upon which the door being broke open, 
he was found dead ; his throat cut, so that both the 
jugulars and the gullet were cut, a Uttle above the 
asjjera arteria. ' I shall afterwards *^ give an ac- 
count of the further inquiry into this matter, which 
passed then universally as done by himself The 
coroner's jury found it self-murder. And when his 

^ He was on the close stool. S. ^ (P. 569.) 


body was brought home to his own house, and the i683. 
wound was examined by his own surgeon, he said 
to me, it was impossible the wound could be as it 
was, if given by any hand but his own : for except 
he had cast his head back, and stretched up his neck 
all he could, the aspera arteria must have been 
cut. But to go on with this tragical day, in which 
I lost the two best friends I had in the world : 
"« The lord Russel's trial was fixed for that day. A The lorj 
jury was returned that consisted of citizens of Lon- trial. 
don who were not freeholders. So the first point 
argued in law was, whether this could be a legal 
jury. The statute was express : and the reason 
was, that none but men of certain estates might try 
a man upon his life. It was answered, that the 
practice of the city was to the contrary, upon the 
very reason of the law : for the richest men of the 
city were often no freeholders, but merchants, whose 
wealth lay in their trade and stock. So this was 
overruled, and the jury was sworn. They were 
picked out with great care, being men of fair repu- 
tation in other respects, but so engaged in the party 
for the court, that they were easy to believe any 
thing on that side. Rumsey, Shepherd, and lord 
Howard were the witnesses, who deposed according 
to what was formerly related. Shepherd swore lord 
Russel was twice at his house, though he was never 
there but once. And when lord Russel sent him 
word after his sentence, that he forgave him all he 
had sworn against him, but that he must remember 
that he was never within his doors but ope single 
time : to which all the answer Shepherd made was, 554 
that all the while he was in court during the trial 
he was under such a confusion, that he scarce knew 


1683. what he said. Both Rumsey and he swore, that 
lord Russel had expressed his consent to the seizing 
on the guards, though they did not swear any one 
word that he spoke which imported it : so that here 
a man was convicted of treason, for being present 
by accident, or for some innocent purpose, where 
treasonable matter was discoursed, without bearing 
a part in that discourse, or giving any assent by 

ii words or otherwise to what was so discoursed; which 

at the most amounts to misprision, or conceahnent 
of treason only. As lord Howard began his evi- 
dence, the news of the earl of Essex's death came to 
the court. Upon which lord Howard stopped, and 
said, he could not go on till he gave vent to his grief 
in some tears. He soon recovered himself, and told 
all his story. Lord Russel defended himself by 
many compurgators, who spoke very fully of his 
great worth, and that it was not likely he would en- 
gage in ill designs. Some others besides my self 
testified, how solemnly lord Howard had denied his 
knowledge of any plot upon its first breaking out. 
Finch, the solicitor general, said, no regard was to 
be had to that, for all witnesses denied at first. It 
was answered, if these denials had been only to a 
magistrate, or at an examination, it might be thought 
of less moment : but such solemn denials, with as- 
severations, to friends, and oflficiously offered, shewed 
that such a witness was so bad a man, that no credit 
was due to his testimony. It was also urged, that 
it was not sworn by any of the witnesses, that lord 
Russel had spoken any such words, or words to that 
effect : and without some such indication, it could 
not be known that he hearkened to the discourse, or 
amsented to it. Lord Russel also asked, upon what 


statute he was tried : if upon the old statute of the i683. 
twenty-fifth of Edward the third, or if upon the 
statute made declaring what shall be held treason 
during the king's reign ? They could not rely on 
the last, because of the limitation of time in it : six 
months, and something more, were passed since the 
time of these discourses : so they relied on the old 
statute. Upon which he asked, where was the overt 
act ? For none appeared. It was also said, that by 
that statute the very imagining the king's death, 
when proved by an overt act, was treason ; but it 
was only the levying war, and not the imagining to 
levy war against the king, that was treason by that 
statute. Cook and Hale were of this opinion, and 
gave their reasons for it ^. And it seemed that the 555 
parUament that passed the act of treason during the 
present reign were of that mind ; for they enume- 
rated consultations to raise war among those things 
which were declared to be treason during that 
reign : this shewed that they did not look on them 
as comprehended within the old statute. The king's 
counsel pretended, that consultations to seize on the 
guards were an overt act of a design against the 
king's person. But those forces that have got the 
designation of guards appropriated to them, are not 
the king's guards in law : they are not so much as 
allowed of by law : for even the lately dissolved long 
parliament, that was so careful of the king, and so 
kind to him, would never take notice of the king's 
forces, much less call them his guards. The guards 
were only a company of men in the king's pay : so 
that a design to seize on them amounted to no 

R But see Hale as to this, in his Hist. Placit. Coronae ; vol. i. 
page IT9, &c. O. 


1083. more, than to a design to seize on a part of the 
king's army. But the word guards sounded so like 
a security to the king's person, that the design 
against them was constructed a design against his 
life : and yet none of the witnesses spoke of any de- 
sign against the king's person. Lord Howard swore 
positively, that they had no such design. Yet the 
one was constructed to be the natural consequence 
of the other. So that after all the declaiming against 
a constructive treason in the case of lord Strafford, 
the court was always running into it, when they had 
a mind to destroy any that stood in their way. Lord 
Russel desired that his counsel might be heard to 
this point of seizing the guards : but that was de- 
nied, unless he would confess the fact : and he would 
not do that, because, as the witnesses had sworn it, 
it was false. He once intended to have related the 
whole fact, just as it was : but his counsel advised 
him against it. Some of his friends were for it, who 
thought that it could amount to no more than a 
concealment and misprision of treason. Yet the 
counsel distinguished between a bare knowledge, 
and a concealing that, and a joining designedly in 
council with men that did design treason : for in 
that case, though a man should differ in opinion 
from a treasonable proposition, yet his mixing in 
council with such men wiU in law make him a trai- 
tor. Lord Russel spoke but little : yet in few words 
he touched on all the material points of law that 
had been suggested to hiiti. Finch ^ summed up 
the evidence against him : but in that, and in seve- 
ral other trials afterwards, he shewed more of a viW 

^ After earl of Aylsford, an arrant rascal. S. 


cious eloquence, in turning matters with some sub- i683. 

tlety against the prisoners, than of solid or sincere 
reasoning. Jefferies would shew his zeal, and speak 556 
after him : but it was only an insolent declamation, 
such as all his were, full of fury and indecent invec- 
tives. Pemberton was the head of the court, the 
other bench not being yet filled. He summed up , 
the evidence at first very fairly : but in conclusion 
he told the jury, that a design to seize the guards 
was surely a design against the king's life. But 
though he struck upon this, which was the main 
point, yet it was thought that his stating the whole 
matter with so little eagerness against lord Russel, 
was that which lost him his place: for he was turned 
out soon after. Lord Russel's behaviour during the 
trial was decent and composed : so that he seemed 
very littje concerned in the issue of the matter. He 
was a man of so much candour, that he spoke little 
as to the fact : for since he was advised not to tell the 
whole truth, he could not speak against that which 
he knew to be true, though in some particulars it 
had been carried beyond the truth. But he was not 
allowed to make the difference : so he left that 
wholly to the jury, who brought in their verdict ik- wa* con- 
against him, upon which he received sentence. 

He then composed himself to die with great seri- 
ousness. He said, he was sure the day of his trial 
was more uneasy to him, than that of his execution 
would be. All possible methods were used to have 
saved his life : money was offered to the lady Ports- 
mouth, and to all that had credit, and that without 
measure. He was pressed to send petitions and sub- 
missions to the king and to the duke : but he left it 
to his friends to consider how far these might go, 

VOL. II. B b 


1683. and how they were to be worded. All he was 
brought to was, to offer to live beyond sea in any 
place that the king should name, and never to meddle 
any more in English affairs. But all was in vain : 
- both king and duke were fixed in their resolutions ; 
but with this difference, as lord Rochester afterwards 
told me, that the duke suffered some, among whom 
he was one, to argue the point with him', but the 
king could not bear the discourse'*. Some have said, 
that the duke moved that he might be executed in 
Southampton-square before his own house, but that 
the king rejected that as indecent. So Lincolns-Inn- 
Fields was the place appointed for his execution. 
The last week of his life he was shut up all the 
mornings, as he himself desired. And about noon 
I came to him, and staid with him till night. All 
the while he expressed a very Christian temper, with- 
out sharpness or resentment, vanity or affectation. 
His whole behaviour looked like a triumph over 
557 death. Upon some occasions, as at table, or when 
his friends came to see him, he was decently cheer- 
ful. I was by him when the sheriffs came to shew 
him the warrant for his execution. He read it with 
indifference : and when they were gone, he told me, 
it was not decent to be merry with such a matter, 

» But see the appendix to due to lord Southampton's 

Welwood's Memoirs, p. 3 22. O. daughter and her children. The 

^ My father told the king the king answered," All that is true ; 
pardoning of lord Russel would " but it is as true, that if I do 
lay an eternal obligation upon a " not take his life, he will soon 
very great and numerous family, " have mine." Which would ad- 
and the taking of his life would mit of no reply. D. (Dalrym- 
never be forgiven; and his father pie, in the Appendix to hisMe- 
being alive, it could have little moirs of Great Britain and Ire- 
effect upon the rest of the fa- land, vol. ii. p. 59. has produced 
niily, besides resentments, and this passage from lord Dart- 
certainly there was some regard mouth's notes.) 


otherwise he was near telling Rich, (who though he iG83. 
was now of the other side, yet had been a member of 
the house of commons, and had voted for the exclu- 
sion,) that they should never sit together in that 
house any more to vote for the bill of exclusion. 
The day before his death he fell a bleeding at the 
nose : upon that he said to me pleasantly, I shall 
not now let blood to divert this : that will be done 
to-morrow. At night it rained hai'd : and he said, 
such a rain to-morrow will spoil a great shew, which 
was a dull thing in a rainy day. He said, the sins 
of his youth lay heavy upon his mind : but he hoped 
God had forgiven them, for he was sure he had for- 
saken them, and for many years he had walked be- 
fore God with a sincere heart : if in his public act- 
ings he had committed errors, they were only the 
errors of his understanding ; for he had no private 
ends nor ill designs of his own in them : he was 
still of opinion that the king was limited by law, 
and that when he broke through those limits his 
subjects might defend themselves, and restrain him : 
he thought a violent death was a very desirable way 
of ending one's life : it was only the being exposed to 
be a little gazed at, and to suffer the pain of one mi- 
nute, which, he was confident, was not equal to the 
pain of drawing a tooth. He said, he felt none of 
those transports that some good people felt ; but he 
had a full calm in his mind, no palpitation at heart, 
nor trembUng at the thoughts of death. He was 
much concerned at the cloud that seemed to be now 
over his country : but he hoped his death should do 
more service, than his life could have done. 

This was the substance of the discourse between "j? p"*]**" 

ration for 

him and me. Tillotson was oft with him that last Je«th. 



1683. week. We thought the party had gone too quick in 
their consultations, and too far; and that resistance 
in the condition we were then in was not lawful. 
He said, he had not leisure to enter into discourses 
of politics ; but he thought a government limited by 
law was only a name, if the subjects might not 
maintain those limitations by force : otherwise all 
was at the discretion of the prince : that was con- 
trary to aU the notions he had lived in of our go- 
vernment. But he said, there was nothing among 
them but the embryos of things, that were never like 
558 to have any effect, and that were now quite dis- 
solved'. He thought, it was necessary for him to 
leave a paper behind him at his death : and because 
he had not been accustomed to draw such papers, he 
desired me to give him a scheme of the heads fit to 
be spoken to, and of the order in which they should 
be laid : which I did. And he was three days em- 
ployed for some time in the morning, to write out 
his speech. He ordered four copies to be made of it, 
all which he signed; and gave the original, with 
three of the copies, to his lady, and kept the other to 
give to the sheriffs on the scaffold. He writ it 
with great care : and the passages that were tender 
he writ in papers apart, and shewed them to his 
lady, and to myself, before he writ them out fair. 
He was very easy when this was ended. He also 
writ a letter to the king, in which he asked pardon for 

1 (Lord Riissell had contri- " pard had received some thou- 

buted towards the growth of " sand pounds from my lord 

these embryos, if the following " Riissel to transmit to my 

account is to be believed. " Sir " lord Argyll, just before the 

" Thomas Armstrong has also " discovery of the plot.'' Lord 

" acquainted me, when we were Grey's Confession, p. 66.) 
" beyond sea, that Mr. Shep- 


every thing he had said or done contrary to his duty, i683. 
protesting he was innocent as to all designs against 
his person or government, and that his heart was 
ever devoted to that which he thought was his true 
interest. He added, that though he thought he had 
met with hard measure, yet he forgave all concerned 
in it from the highest to the lowest; and ended, 
hoping that his majesty's displeasure at him would 
cease with his own life, and that no part of it should 
fall on his wife and children. The day before his 
death he received the sacrament from Tillotson with 
much devotion. And I preached two short sermons 
to him, which he heard with great affection. And 
we were shut up till towards the evening. Then he 
suffered his children, that were very young, and some 
few of his friends, to take leave of him ; in which he 
maintained his constancy of temper, though he was a 
very fond father. He also parted with his lady with 
a composed silence : and, as soon as she was gone, he 
said to me. The bitterness of death is passed : for he 
loved and esteemed her beyond expression, as she 
well deserved it in all respects. She had the com- 
mand of herself so much, that at parting she gave him 
no disturbance. He went into his chamber about 
midnight: and I staid all night in the outward room. 
He went not to bed till about two in the morning : 
and was fast asleep at four, when, according to his 
order, we called him. He was quickly dressed, but 
would lose no time in shaving : for he said, he was 
not concerned in his good looks that day. 

He was not ill pleased with the account he heard The trial 
that morning of the manner of Walcot's death, who, culion of 
together with one Hone and Rowse, had suffered ^}*^'^* "^ 
the day before. These were condemned upon the 559 



1683. evidence of the witnesses. Rumsey and West swore 
fully against Walcot : he had also writ a letter to 
the secretary, offering to make discoveries, in which, 
he said, the plot was laid deep and wide. Walcot 
denied at his death the whole business of the Rye- 
plot, and of his undertaking to fight the guards 
while others should kill the king. He said, West 
had often spoken of it to him in the phrase of lop- 
ping ; and that he always said he would not meddle 
in it, and that he looked on it as an infamous thing, 
and as that which the duke of Monmouth would 
certainly revenge, though West assured him that 
duke had engaged under his hand to consent to it. 
This confession of Walcot's, as it shewed himself 
very guilty, so it made West appear so black, that 
the court made no more use of him. Hone, a poor 
tradesman in London, who it seems had some heat, 
but scarce any sense in him, was drawn in by Keel- 
ing, and Lee, another witness, who was also brought 
in by Keeling to a very wild thing, of killing the 
king, but sparing the duke, upon this conceit, that 
we would be in less danger in being under a pro- 
fessed papist than under the king. Hone had pro- 
mised to serve in the execution of it, but neither 
knew when, where, nor how it was to be done : so, 
though he seemed fitter for a bedlam than a trial, 
yet he was tried the day before the lord Russel, and 
suffered with the others the day before him. He 
confessed his own guilt ; but said, these who wit- 
nessed against him had engaged him in that design, 
for which they now charged him : but he knew no- 
thing of any other persons, besides himself and the 
two witnesses. The third was one Rowse, who had 
belonged to Player, the chamberlain of London ; 


against whom Lee and Keeling swore the same i683. 
things. He was more affected with a sense of the 
heat and fury with which he had been acted, than 
the others were : but he denied, that he was ever in 
any design against the king's life. He said, the wit- 
nesses had let fall many wicked things of that mat- 
ter in discourse with him : so that he was resolved 
to discover them, and was only waiting till he could 
find out the bottom of their designs : but that now 
they had prevented him. He vindicated all his ac- 
quaintance from being any way concerned in the 
matter, or from approving such designs. These 
men dying as they did, was such a disgrace to the 
witnesses, that the court saw it was not fit to make 
any further use of them. Great use was made of 
the conjunction of these two plots, one for a rising, 
and another for an assassination. It was said, that 560 
the one was that which gave the heart and hope to 
the other black conspiracy : by which they were over 
all England blended together as a plot within a plot, 
which cast a great load on the whole party. 

Lord Russel seemed to have some satisfaction to Russei's ex- 

, , ecutiou. 

find that there was no truth m the whole contriv- 
ance of the Rye-plot : so that he hoped that infamy, 
which now blasted their party, would soon go off. 
He went into his chamber six or seven times in the 
morning, and prayed by himself, and then came out 
to Tillotson and me : he drunk a httle tea and some 
sherry. He wound up his watch ; and said, now he 
had done with time, and was going to eternity. 
He asked what he should give the executioner : I 
told him ten guineas : he said, with a smile, it was 
a pretty thing to give a fee to have his head cut off. 
When the sheriffs called him about ten o'clock, lord 

B b 4 

1683. Cavendish was waiting below to take leave of him. 

They embraced very tenderly. Lord Russel, after 
he had left him, upon a sudden thought came back 
to him, and pressed him earnestly to apply him- 
self more to religion ; and told him what great 
comfort and support he felt from it now in his ex- 
tremity. Lord Cavendish had very generously of- 
fered to manage his escape, and to stay in prison for 
him while he should go away in his clothes : but he 
would not hearken to the motion. The duke of 
Monmouth had also sent me word, to let him know, 
that, if he thought it could do him any service, he 
would come in, and run fortunes with him. He an- 
swered, it would be of no advantage to him to have 
his friends die with him. Tillotson and I went in 
the coach with him to the place of execution. Some 
of the crowd that filled the streets wept, while 
others insulted: he was touched with the tender- 
ness that the one gave him, but did not seem at all 
provoked by the other. He was singing psalms a 
gi'eat part of the way : and said, he hoped to sing 
better very soon. As he observed the great crowds 
of people all the way, he said to us, I hope I shall 
quickly see a much better assembly. When he came 
to the scaffold, he walked about it four or five times. 
Then he turned to the sheriffs, and delivered his 
paper. He protested, he had always been far from 
any designs against the king's life or government : 
he prayed God would preserve both, and the pro- 
testant religion. He wished all protestants might 
love one another, and not make way for popery by 
their animosities. 
561 The substance of the paper he gave them was, 
Rus8ei'» ^ profcssiou of his religion, and of his sincerity 


in it: that he was of the church of England: but i683. 
wished all would unite together against the common 
enemy : that churchmen would be less severe, and 
dissenters less • scrupulous. He owned, he had a 
great zeal against popery, which he looked on as an 
idolatrous and bloody religion : but that, though he 
was at all times ready to venture his life for his re- 
ligion or his country, yet that would never have car- 
ried him to a black or wicked design. No man 
ever had the impudence to move to him any thing 
with relation to the king's life : he prayed heai^tily 
for him, that in his person and government he might 
be happy, both in this world and in the next. He 
protested, that in the prosecution of the popish plot 
he had gone on in the sincerity of his heart ; and 
that he never knew of any practice with the wit- 
nesses. He owned, he had been earnest in the mat- 
ter of the exclusion, as the best way, in his opinion, 
to secure both the king's life and the protestant re- 
ligion: and to that he imputed his present suffer- 
ings : but he forgave all concerned in them ; and 
charged his friends to think of no revenges. He 
thought his sentence was hard : upon which he gave 
an account of all that had passed at Shepherd's. 
From the heats that were in choosing the sheriffs, 
he concluded that matter would end as it now did : 
and he was not much surprised to find it fall upon 
himself: he wished it might end in him : killing by 
forms of law was the worst sort of murder. He 
concluded with some very devout ejaculations. After 
he had delivered this paper, he prayed by himself: 
then Tillotson prayed with him. After that he 
prayed again by himself: and then undressed him- 
self, and laid his head on the block, without the 


1683. least change of countenance : and it was cut oflf at 
two strokes. 

This was the end of that great and good man : 
on which I have perhaps enlarged too copiously : 
but the great esteem I had for him, and the share I 
had in this matter, will, I hope, excuse it. His 
speech was so soon printed, that it was selhng 
about the streets an hour after his death : upon 
which the court was highly inflamed. So Tillotson 
and I were appointed to appear before the cabinet 
council. Tillotson had little to say, but only that 
lord Russel had shewed him his speech the day be- 
fore he suffered ; and that he spoke to him, what he 
thought was incumbent on him, upon some parts of 
it, but he was not disposed to alter it"\ I was 
562 longer before them. I saw they apprehended I had 
penned the speech. I told the king, that at his 
lady's desire I writ down a very particular journal 
of every passage, great and smaU, that had hap- 
pened during my attendance on him : I had just 
ended it, as I received my summons to attend his 
majesty : so, if he commanded me, I would read it to 
him : which upon his command I did. I saw they 
were all astonished at the many extraordinary things 
in it : the most important of them are set down in 
the former relation. The lord keeper asked me, if 
I intended to print that. I said it was only in- 

"^ (" Dr. Tillotson himself, " majesty was so far from be- 

'* though he had wrote that let- " ing offended at his caution, 

" ter to the lord Russel'' (in " that he declared to his bro- 

favour of passive obedience) " ther, that the dean spoke like 

" yet would not generally af- " an honest man ; and would 

" firm, although asked before " not have him pressed any 

" the king in person," (by the " further." EchanVs Hist, of 

duke of York,) " that no case the Revolution, p. 23.) 
** was*^to be excepted. And his 



tended for his lady's private use. The lord keeper, i683. 
seeing the king silent, added. You are not to think 
the king is pleased with this, because he says no- 
thing. This was very mean. He then asked me, 
if I had not studied to dissuade the lord Russel 
fi'om putting many things in his speech. I said, 
I had discharged my conscience to him very 
freely in every particular : but he was now gone : 
so it was impossible to know, if I should tell any 
thing of what had passed between us, whether it 
was true or false : I desired therefore to be excused. 
The duke asked me, if he had said any thing to me 
in confession. I answered, that if he had said any 
thing to me in confidence, that was enough to re- 
strain me from speaking of it. Only I offered to 
take my oath, that the speech was penned " by him- 

" Jesuitical. S. Quaere, what 
that word means ? See an tea, 
558. The paper does not seem 
clear and ingenuous enough for 
the character of such a man as 
my lord Russel, and at such a 
time with him. He was cer- 
tainly a very honest man, and 
truly meant the good of his 
country in all this transaction, 
and that only. But he was le- 
gally convicted, as to the crime, 
in law, and the evidence of it. 
It would have been the same 
with those who engaged in the 
revolution, if they had not suc- 
ceeded : and that is his best 
defence. See lord Grey's paper 
(lately, i757> published in 
print,) relating to this plot, 
where lord Russel seems to 
have been very early and deep 
in it, as to an insurrection. But 
be all this as it may, what have 

bad princes, with their instru- 
ments, to answer for hereafter, 
who, by iniquitous acts of pre- 
tended government, force un- 
happy subjects to resist them, 
for the sake of necessary de- 
fence, and who, if they happen 
to fail, are treated as criminals, 
and put often to cruel deaths 
by those very tyrants that pro- 
voked them, acting against them 
(and making it a justification) 
under the letter and colour of 
laws, instituted only and avow- 
edly for the protection and se- 
curity of good government. Is 
not this murder in the sight of 
an all-judging God ? VVould not 
such princes be far safer in this 
world, and happier in that to 
come, if, in such cases, they 
pardoned their miserable sub- 
jects, and amended their own 
future administration of power ? 


1683. self, and not by me. The duke, upon all that passed 
" in this examination, expressed himself so highly of- 

fended at me, that it was concluded I would be 
ruined. Lord Halifax sent me word, that the duke 
looked on my reading the journal as a studied 
thing, to make a panegyric on lord Russel's me- 
mory. Many pamphlets were writ on that occa- 
sion : and I was heavily charged in them all, as the 
adviser, if not the author, of the speech. But I was 
advised by all my friends to write no answer, but to 
bear the malice that was vented ujDon me with si- 
lence ; which I resolved to do. 
Prince At this time prince George of Denmark came 

George of , " 

Denmark into England to marry the duke's second daughter, 
princess Thc priucc of Hauovcr ° had come over two years 
'^°^' before to make addresses to her : but he was scarce 
got hither, when he received orders from his father 
not to proceed in that design ; for he had agreed a 
match for him with his brother the duke of ZeU for 
his daughter, which [however it] did at that time 

I have often thought it a great with regard to him,) and Hanjp- 
unhappiness to my lord Russel, den (antea, 539) then an infi- 
and it must have been matter del, or pretending to be so, 
of much uneasiness to a man Scarcely any one of them all 
of his principles and virtues, could give any credit to the 
(public and private,) to have cause. O. (Lady Russell, in 
been connected in any under- her letter to the king, profess- 
taking with the men of the ing her own belief, that the pa- 
characters he united himself per her lord delivered to the 
with, on this occasion. Mon- sheriffs was his, and not doc- 
mouth, Shaftsbury, Howard, tor Burnet's, intimates, that an 
Gray, Armstrong, &c. Essex, argument for its having been 
Sidney, and Hampden, were composed by the latter was 
better men in themselves than drawn from the use of some 
the others ; but the two first phrases familiar to him. See 
were republicans, (the earl this letter in Lord John Rus- 
of Essex inclined to be so, as sell's Life of Lord Russell, 
lord Gray's paper says. See p. 238.) 
antea, 538. not very strange ° Afterwards our king. O. 


accommodate the family, [it proved very unhappy i683. 
afterwards to the prince himself.] The marriage 
that was now made with the brother of Denmark 
did not at all please the nation : for we knew that 
the proposition came from France. So it was ap-563 
prehended, that both courts reckoned they were 
sure that he would change his religion : in which 
we have seen, since that time, that our fears were 
ill grounded. He has lived in all respects the hap- 
piest with his princess that was possible, except in 
one particular : for though there was a child born 
every year for many years, yet they have all died : 
so that the fruitfullest marriage that has been known 
in our age, has been fatally blasted as to the effect 
of it. 

The affairs abroad were now every where in ariiesiege 
great fermentation. The emperor had governed" 
Hungary so strangely, as at once to persecute the 
protestants, and to oppress the papists in their li- 
berties, which disposed both to rebel : upon which 
the malecontents were now in arms, and had pos- 
sessed themselves of several places in the Upper 
Hungary ; which being near Poland, they were ma- 
naged and assisted by the French ministers in that 
kingdom ; in which the cardinal of Fourbin was the 
chief instrument. But they not being able to main- 
tain themselves against the emperor's whole force, 
Tekeli, who was set at their head, offered all sul3- 
missions to the Turk, and begged his protection. 
Upon this that great war broke out, all set on by 
the practices of the king of France ; who, while he 
was persecuting the protestants in liis own king- 
dom, was at the same time encouraging the rel>el- 
lion of Hungary, and drawing the Turk into Chris- 


i6S3. tendom. I need not enlarge further on a matter so 
well known as the siege of Vienna : which, if it had 
been as well prosecuted as it was first undertaken, 
the town would have been certainly taken, and with 
that the emperor and his family ruined. The king 
of France drew a great army together near the 
frontier of Germany, and seemed to depend upon it 
that the town would be taken ; and that he would 
be called in by the princes of Germany to protect 
them, and upon that have been chosen emperor. 
He at the same time sent Humieres with an army 
into Flanders, upon a pretension to Alost, that 
would have seemed very strange in any other court 
but that. He had once possessed himself, during 
the war, of Alost : but afterwards he drew his 
troops out of it. So it not being in his hands when 
the peace of Nimeguen was made, no mention was 
made of restoring it. But now it was said, that, it 
being once in the king's hands by the right of his 
arms, it was still his, since he had not expressly re- 
nounced it : therefore he now demanded it, or to 
564 have Luxembourg given him as an equivalent for it. 
Humieres finding no resistance in the Spanish Ne- 
therlands, destroyed and ruined the country, beyond 
any thing it had felt during the whole war. This 
was the state of affairs abroad at the time of these 

All people thought we should see a parliament pre- 
sently called, from which both the king and the duke 
might have expected every thing that they could de- 
sire : for the body of the nation was yet so possessed 
with the belief of the plot, that probably all elections 
would have gone as the court directed, and scarce 
any of the other party would have had the courage 


to have stood for an election any where. But the i683. 
king of France began to apprehend, that the king 
might grow so much the master at home, that he 
would be no longer in their management : and they 
foresaw that, what success soever the king might have 
in a parliament with relation to his own afTairs, it 
was not to be imagined but that a house of commons, 
at the same time that they shewed their submission 
to the king, would both enable him to resist the pro- 
gress of the French arms, and address to him to en- 
ter into alliances with the Spaniards and the States. 
So the French made use of all their instruments to 
divert our court from calling a parliament : and they 
got the king to consent to their possessing them- 
selves of Luxembourg : for which, I was told, they 
gave him 300,000/. but I have no certainty of that. 
Lord Mountague told me of it, and seemed to believe 
it : and lady Portsmouth valued herself on this of 
Luxembourg as gained by her ; and called it the last 
service she did the court of France p. 

p (" After much haggling Montague) " about Luxem- 

" Charles agreed to allow the *' bourg : Mountague having 

" French to seize Luxembourg, •' (according to Barillon) pro- 

" and received a million of livres " posed to embroil the king with 

" in return, (less than eighty " his parliament, and reduce 

" thousand pounds.) Barillon " him to the necessity of dis- 

" writes thus to Louis XIV. on " solving it, which would ren- 

" the ist of December, 1681. " der all his opposition to 

" Apr^s plusieurs, &c." Sir " France ineffectual through 

John Dalrymple's Memoirs of " want of being supported." In 

Great Britain and Ireland, Ap- the Life, lately published from 

pendix, p. 31. Again, at pp. 32, the Stuart papers, of James II. 

33. he says, that '* the French mention is made without any 

" chose rather to deal with King reserve of a treaty conducted 

*• Charles than with Mr. Moun- by him in behalf of his bro- 

" tague" (the same whom Bur- ther Charles with the French 

net mentions here, and before court, for the purpose of pro- 

in p. 440, and elsewhere, and curing money two years before 

who was afterwards duke of this." See vol. i. p. 664.) 


1683. At this time I went over into France, chiefly to 

The author bc out of the Way, when I was faUen on almost in 

went to the imip a. r j j 

court of every hbel : tor new sets oi addresses were now run- 
France. -fling aboiit the nation, with more heat and swelled 
eloquence in them than the former ones. In all 
which the providential fire of Newmarket was set 
off with great pomp : and in many of them there 
were hard things said of lord Russel and his speech, 
with insinuations that looked towards me. 
Characters In Francc, Rouvigny, who was the lady Russel's 

of some he i • • i i 

knew there, unclc, studicd to get me to be much visited and 
known. There my acquaintance with Marshal 
Schomberg began : and by him I was acquainted 
with Marshal BeUfonds, who was a devout man, but 
very weak. He read the Scriptures much, and 
seemed to practise the virtues of the desert in the 
midst of that court. I knew the archbishop of 
Rheims, who was a rough, boisterous man : he 
5Q5 seemed to have good notions of the episcopal duty in 
all things, except that of the setting a good example 
to his clergy : for he allowed himself in liberties of 
all kinds. The duke of Montausier was a pattern of 
virtue and sincerity, if not too cynical in it. He 
was so far from flattering the king, as all the rest 
did most abjectly, that he could not hold from con- 
tradicting him, as often as there was occasion for it. 
And for that reason chiefly the king made him the 
dauphin's governor : to which, he told me, he had 
applied himself with great care, though he very 
frankly added, without success. The exterior of the 
king was very solemn : the first time I happened to 
see him was when the news came of the raising the 
siege of Vienna ; with which, Schomberg told me, 
he was much struck, for he did not look for it. 



While I was at court, which was only for four or five 
days, one of the king's coaches was sent to wait on ' 
me, and the king ordered me to be well treated by 
all about him, which upon that was done, with a 
great profusion of extraordinary respects : at which 
all people stood amazed. Some thought, it was to 
encourage the side against the court by this treat- 
ment of one then in disgrace. Others more probably 
thought, that the king, hearing I was a writer of 
history, had a mind to engage me to write on his 
side. I was told a pension would be offered me. 
But I made no steps towards it : for though I was 
offered an audience of the king, I excused it, since I 
could not have the honour to be presented to that 
king by the minister of England'. I saw the prince 


"■ The bishop seems to avoid 
giving the true cause of his 
good reception in the court of 
France, though it was known 
then, and may be still by any 
body that reads a book he pub- 
lished in the year 1682, entitled. 
The History of the Rights of 
Princes, in the preface to which, 
he bestows the most extrava- 
gant commendations upon the 
king of France, which were al- 
ways acceptable to him from 
any hand ; and the book itself 
was of great use to them in 
their dispute with Innocent the 
Xlth, concerning the regalia. D. 
(Other reasons for Burnet's 
good reception at the French 
court are suggested in a letter 
of lord Preston, the English am- 
bassador there, to the marquis 
of Halifax, published by Dal- 
rymple in the Aj)pendix to his 
Memoirs, p. 80. " I have, since 
** I had this account, considered 


" why Mr. Montague should 
" have been treated worse than 
" Dr. Burnet, and I can only 
" think of these reasons for it. 
" First, he cannot be so useful 
" at this time, as the doctor, 
" who, if he be gone into Eng- 
" land, may continue his former 
" practices with the discontent- 
" ed party. In the next place, 
" if Mr. Montague had had a 
" reception, it could not have 
" been excused so to the king, 
" our master, as that of Dr. 
" Burnet was by his most 
" Christian majesty, pretending 
" not to know his character and 
" circumstances. Or perhaps, 
" another reason might be, the 
" present scarcity of money 
" here, where they are begun 
" to retrench in all sorts of ex- 
'* pences." (Montague, it is 
before suited, had applied to 
the king of France for some 
money as a gratification.) " It 

c c 


1683. of Cond^ but once, though he intended to see me 
oftener. He had a great quickness of apprehension, 
and was thought the best judge in France both of 
wit and learning. He had read my history of the 
reformation, that was then translated into French, 
and seemed pleased with it. So were many of the 
great lawyers ; in particular Harlay, then attorney 
general, and now first president of the court of par- 
liament of Paris. The contests with Rome were 
then very high ; for the assembly of the clergy had 
passed some articles very derogatory to the papal 
authority: so many fancied, that matter might go to 
a rupture : and Harlay said very publicly, that, if 
that should happen, I had laid before them a good 
plan to copy from. 

Bellefonds had so good an opinion of me, that he 
thought instances of devotion might have some ef- 
fect on me : so he made the duchess La Valiere 
think, that she might be an instrument in convert- 
5Q6 ing me : and he brought a message from her, de- 
siring me to come to the grate to her. I was twice 
there : and she told me the steps of her conversion, 
and of her coming into that strict order of the Car- 
melites, with great humility and much devotion. 
Treville, one of the duchess of Orleans's admirers, was 
so struck with her death, that he had lived in retreat 
from that time, and was but newly come to appear 
again \ He had great knowledge, with a true sense 
of religion : he seemed to groan under many of the 

" is a question now often asked " take to be one eflFect of the 

" at this court in confidence, " doctor's late conversation 

" whether there has been really " here.") 
" any such thing as a late con- * (See before, p. 301 — 303.) 
** spiracy in England ? which I 


corruptions of their church. He and some others i683. 
whom I knew of the Sorbon, chiefly Faur, Pique, 
and Brayer, seemed to think that almost every thing 
among them was out of order ; and wished for a re- 
gular reformation : but their notion of the unity of 
the church kept them still in a communion that they 
seemed uneasy in : and they said very freely, they 
wondered how any one that was once out of their 
communion should desire to come back into it. They 
were generally learned only in one point : Faur was 
the best read in ecclesiastical history of any man I 
saw among them : and I never knew any of that 
church that understood the scriptures so well as 
Pique did. They declared themselves for abolishing 
the papal authority, and for reducing the pope to the 
old primacy again. They spoke to me of the bishops 
of France, as men that were both vicious and igno- 
rant : they seemed now to be against the pope : but 
it was only because he was in the interests of the 
house of Austria : for they would declare him infal- 
lible the next day after he should turn to the in- 
terest of France : so they expected no good, neither 
from the court nor from the clergy. I saw St. 
Amour, the author of the journal of what passed at 
Rome in the condemnation of the five propositions 
of Jansenius. He seemed to be a sincere and worthy 
man, who had more judgment than either quickness 
or learning. He told me, his whole life had been 
one campaign against the Jesuits ; and spoke of them 
as the great plague of the church. He lamented 
also that sharpness of style with which his friend 
Amauld treated the protestants ; for which, he said, 
both he and all his friends blamed him. I was car- 

c c 2 

1683. ried by a bishop to the Jesuits at St. Anthoine's. 

There I saw P. Bourdalou, esteemed one of the 
greatest preachers of the age, and one of the honours 
of his order. He was a man of a sweet temper, not 
at all violent against protestants : on the contrary 
he believed good men among them might be saved, 
which was a pitch in charity that I had never ol^served 
in any of the learned of that communion. I was also 
567 once with P. de la Chaise, the king's confessor, who 
was a dry man. He told me, how great a man 
they would make me, if I would come over to them. 
This was my acquaintance on the popish side. I 
say little of the protestants. They came all to me : 
so I was well known among them. The method that 
carried over the men of the finest parts among them 
to popery was this: they brought themselves to 
doubt of the whole Christian religion : when that 
was once done, it seemed a more indifferent thing of 
what side or form they continued to be outwardly. 
The base practices of buying many over with pen- 
sions, and of didving others over with perpetual ill 
usage, and the acts of the highest injustice and vio- 
lence, and the vile artifices in bringing on and carry- 
ing so many processes against most of their churches, 
as not comi:)rehended within ^the edict of Nantes, 
were a reproach both to the greatness of their king 
and to the justice of their courts. Many new edicts 
were coming out every day against them, which con- 
tradicted the edict of Nantes in the most express 
words possible : and yet to aU these a strange clause 
was added. That the king did not intend by them to 
recall, nor to go against any article of the edict of 
Nantes, which he would maintain inviolable. I 


knew Spanheim particularly', who was envoy from i683. 
the elector of Brandenbourg, who is the greatest 
critic of the age in all ancient learning, and is with 
that a very able man in all affairs, and a frank 
cheerful man ; qualities that do not always meet in 
very learned men. After a few months' stay I re- 
turned, and found both the king and duke were 
highly offended with the reception I had met with 
in France. They did not know what to make of it, 
and fancied there was something hid under it. 

The addresses had now gone round England. Affairs in 
The grand juries made after that high presentments "^ *" ' 
against all that were esteemed whigs and noncon- 
formists. Great pains were taken to find out more 
witnesses. Pardons and rewards were offered very 
freely. But none came in : which made it evident, 
that nothing was so well laid, or brought so near 
execution, as the witnesses had deposed ; otherwise 
people would have been crowding in for pardons. 
All iKjople were apprehensive of very black designs, 
when they saw Jefferies made lord chief jtistice, who Jefferies and 
was scandalously vicious, and was drunk every day; preferredf 
besides a drunkenness of fury in his temi)er, that 
looked like enthusiasm. He did not consider the 
decencies of his post : nor did he so much as affect to 
seem impartial, as became a judge ; but run out 568 
upon all occasions into declamations that did not 
become the bar, much less the bench. He was not 
learaed in his profession' : and his eloquence, though 

* Who was — M?Ao is, pure non- parts, and made a great clian- 
sensc. S. cellor in the business of that 

* I have heard sir J. Jekyl court. In mere private matters, 
(master of the rolls) say other- he was thought an able and 
wise. He had likewise great upright judge wherever he sat. 

C c 3 I^"t 


1683. viciously copious, yet was neither correct nor agree- 
able". Pemberton was turned out of the common 
pleas, and Jones was put in his place : and Jef- 
feries had three judges joined with him in the king's 
bench, fit to sit by him. 

The king sent a new message to the city of Lon- 
don, requiring the common council to deliver up their 
charter, threatening them, that otherwise he would 
order the judgment to be entered. Upon this a 
great debate arose among them. Some were for 
their compliance, that they might prevent the pre- 
judice that would otherwise arise. On the other 
hand it was said, that all freemen took an oath to 
maintain the rights of their corporation ; so that it 
was perjury in them to betray these. They said, it 
was better to leave the matter to the king, than by 
any act of their own to deliver all up. So it was 
carried not to do it by a few voices. Upon that the 
judgment was entered : and the king seized on their 
liberties ^. Many of the aldermen and other officers 
were turned out: and others were put in their 
places. So they continued for some time a city 
without a charter or a common council: and the 
king named the magistrates. New charters were 
sent to most of the corporations, in which the king 
reserved a power to himself to turn out magistrates 
at his pleasure. This was done to make all sure for 
a new election of parliament, which came now un- 
der consideration. 

1684. There was a clause in the act that repealed the 

The calling 
» parliament 

proposed, But when the crown or his party at least. O. 

but rejected, were concerned, he was, as he " Like Burnet's eloquence. S. 

is here represented ; generally » (See before p. 535.) 


triennial bill, which had passed in the beginning of i684. 
the troubles, which enacted that a parliament should 
meet every third year : but it had none of those en- 
forcing clauses, in case it did not meet, that were in 
the other act ; and the third year from the parlia- 
ment of Oxford was now near an end. So, since 
the king had declared he would govern according to 
law, and in particular that he would have frequent 
parliaments, for which he had special thanks given 
him in many of the addresses, it was proposed that 
a parliament should be called. A war seemed like 
to break out in Flanders ; where the Spaniards, how 
ill soever they were prepared for it, had declared 
war, upon the French troops possessing themselves 
of Dixmuyd and Courtray. The prince of Orange 
was pressing the states to go into a new war, rather 
than let Luxembourg be taken. But this was much 
opposed by the town of Amsterdam. The calling 569 
a new parliament here, and England's engaging, as 
all believed they might do, would be an effectual re- 
straint on the French. But the king had consented 
to let Luxembourg faU into their hands : so it was 
apprehended that the parliament might fall upon 
that, which was the only point that could occasion 
any difference between the king and them. It was 
also said, that it was fit all the charters should be 
first brought in, and all the corporations new mo- 
deled, before the parliament should be called. The 
prerogative lawyers pretended, that the prerogative 
was indeed limited by negative and prohibiting 
words, but not by aflSrmative words y. Lord Halifax 
told me, he pressed this all he could ; but there was 
a French interest working strongly against it : so 

y A dangerous and scandalous doctrine. O. 
C C 4 



1684. the thoughts of a parliament at that time were laid 
aside. The Scotish prisoners were ordered to be 
sent down to be tried in Scotland. This was sad 
news to them : for the boots there are a severe tor- 
ture. BailUe had reason to expect the worst usage : 
he was carried to Newgate in the morning that lord 
Russel was tried, to see if he could be persuaded to 
be a witness against him. Every thing that could 
work on him was made use of, but all in vain : so 
they were resolved to use him severely. 
Suspicions I passcd sUghtly over the suspicions that were 

of Essex's , - 

being mur- TOised upon lord Esscx's death, when I mentioned 
that matter ^ This winter the business was brought 
to a trial : a boy and a girl did report, that they 
heard great crying in his lodgings, and that they 
saw a bloody razor flung out at window, which was 
taken up by a woman that came out of the house 
where he was lodged. These children reported this 
confidently that very day, when they went to their 
several homes : they were both about ten or twelve 
years old. The boy went backward and forward 
in his story, sometimes affirming it, and at other 
times denying it : but his father had an office in the 
custom house : so it was thought he prevailed with 
him to deny it in open court. But the girl stood 
firmly to her story. The simphcity of the childi'en, 
together with the ill opinion that was generally had 
of the court, inclined many to believe this. As soon 
as his lady heard of it, she ordered a strict inquiry 
to be made about it ; and sent what she found to 
me, to whom she had trusted all the messages that 
had passed between her lord and her while he was 

^ (Above, p. 553.) 


in the tower. When I perused all, I thought there i684. 

was not a colour to found any prosecution on ; which 

she would have done with all possible zeal, if she 
had found any appearances of truth in the matter. 570 
Lord Essex had got into an odd set of some strange 
principles : and in particular he thought a man was 
the master of his own life : and seemed to approve 
of what his wife's great grandfather, the earl of 
Northumberland, did, who shot himself in the tower 
after he was arraigned. He had also very black fits 
of the spleen, [which was spread among many of his 
family to a very high degree.] But at that time 
one Bi'addon, whom I had known for some years 
for an honest but enthusiastical man, hearing of 
these stories, resolved to carry the matter as far as 
it would go : and he had picked up a great variety 
of little circumstances, all which laid together seemed 
to him so convincing, that he thought he was bound 
to prosecute the matter. I desired liim to come no 
more near me, since he was so positive. He talked 
of the matter so publicly, that he was taken up for 
spreading false news to alienate jieople's hearts from 
the king. He was tried upon it. Both the child- 
ren owned, tliat they had reported the matter as he 
had talked it ; the boy saying then, that it was a lie. 
Braddon had desired the boy to set it all under his 
hand, though with that he charged him to write no- 
thing but the truth. This was called a suborning : 
and he was fined for it in 2000/. But I go next to a 
trial of more importance **. 

• (This Braddon, who was ex- an inquiry into the earl of Es- 

cepted from a general pardon sex's death before the lords, 

granted by James II. in 1687, who came to no resolution on 

prosecuted, after the revolution, the subject. In the year sub- 




Howard was the only evidence against the pri- 
soners of better rank ; for they had no communica- 
tion with the other witnesses. So other things were 
to be found out as supplements to support it. Sid- 
ney was next brought to his trial. A jury was re- 
turned, consisting for most part of very mean per- 
sons. Men's pulses were tried beforehand, to see 
how tractable they would be. One Parry, a violent 
man, guilty of several murders, was not only par- 
doned, but was now made a justice of peace, for his 
officious meddling and violence. He told one of the 
duke's servants, thinking that such a one was cer- 
tainly of their party, that he had sent in a great 
many names of jurors, who were sure men : that 
person told me this himself. Sidney excepted to 

sequent tx) the publication of 
bishop Burnet's work, he printed 
a book with the following title ; 
Bishop Burnet's late History 
charged with great partiality 
and misrepresentation, to make 
the present and future ages be- 
lieve, that Arthur earl of Essex 
murdered himself. Lond. 1725. 
8vo. Lord John Russell, in 
his life of lord Russell, lately 
published, after observing that 
the depositions taken before 
the lords are not now to be 
found, says, that he had been 
assured by the present earl of 
Essex, that lord Onslow told 
him, when a boy, that he had 
seen the entry in the books of 
the treasury, of a grant of mo- 
ney to Romanney, lord Essex's 
servant, who asserted that on 
breaking open the door of a 
closet he found his master 
dead. p. 1 8 2 . Compare i)reface to 
Lord Russell's jL-ife, p. xi. But 

supposing that a grant of this 
nature should ever be found, it 
is impossible to think that it 
was made in reward of the 
testimony Romanney gave re- 
specting the circumstances of 
his lord's death, as no record 
would have been suffered to 
remain of so foul a business. 
Besides, as lord Essex had been 
himself at the head of the 
treasury, there may have been 
good reason for a grant of mo- 
ney to his servant, whether be- 
fore or after the earl's death. 
Lord Dartmouth remarks, that 
it appeared plainly when this 
matter was examined into by 
the house of lords, (in king 
William's reign,) that it was 
impossible that any other per- 
son could have set him in the 
posture he was found ; that be- 
sides the door was bolted on 
the inside, and there was no 
other way of getting in or out.) 


their not being freeholders. But Jefferies said, that i684. 
had been overruled in lord Russel's case : and there- ' 
fore he overruled it ; and would not so much as suf- 
fer Sidney to read the statute. This was one of his * 
bold strains. Lord Russel was tried at the Old 
Baily, where the jury consisted of Londoners : and 
there indeed the contrary practice had prevailed, 
upon the reason before mentioned; for the mer- 
chants are supposed to be rich : but this trial was in 
Middlesex, where the contrary practice had not pre- 
vailed ; for in a county a man who is no freeholder 571 
is supposed to be poor. But Jefferies said on an- 
other occasion, why might not they make precedents 
to the succeeding times, as well as those who had 
gone before them had made precedents for them? 
The witnesses of the other parts of the plot were 
now brought out again to m^ke q, shew ; for they 
knew nothing of Sidney. Only they said, that they 
had heard of a council of six, and that he was one 
of them. Yet even in that they contradicted one 
another; Rumsey swearing that he had it from 
West, and West swearing that he had it from him ; 
which was not observed till the trial came out. If 
it had been observed sooner, perhaps Jeflferies would 
have ordered it to be struck out ; as he did all that 
Sidney had objected upon the point of the jury, be- 
cause they were not freeholders. Howard gave his 
evidence with a preface that had become a pleader 
better than a witness. He observed the uniformity 
of truth, and that all the parts of his evidence and 
theirs met together as two tallies. After this a book 
was produced, which Sidney had been writing, and 
which was found in his closet, in answer to Filmer's 
book entitled Patriarcha ; by which Filmer asserted 

1684. the divine right of monarchy, upon the eldest son's 

succeeding to the authority of the father. It was a 
book of some name, but so poorly writ, that it was 
somewhat strange that Sidney bestowed so much 
pains in answering it. In this answer he had as- 
serted, that princes had their power from the people 
with restrictions and limitations ; and that they were 
liable to the justice of the people, if they abused 
their power to the prejudice of the subjects, and 
against established laws. This, by an inuendo, was 
said to be an evidence to prove that he was in a plot 
against the king's life. And it was insisted on, that 
this ought to stand as a second witness. The earls 
of Clare, Anglesey, and some others, with my self, 
deposed what lord Howard had said, denying there 
was any plot. Blake, a draper, deposed, that hav- 
ing asked him when he was to have his pardon, he 
answered, not tiQ the drudgery of swearing was 
over. Howard had also gone to Sidney's house, and 
had assured his servants that there was nothing 
against him, and had desired them to bring his 
goods to his own house. Sidney shewed how im- 
probable it was that Howard, who could not raise 
five men, and had not five shillings to pay them, 
should be taken into such consultations. As for the 
book, it was not proved to be writ by him ; for it 
was a judged case in capital matters, that a simi- 
5721itude of hands was not a legal proof'', though it was 
in civil matters : that whatever was in those papers, 

^ Quaere, whether that was a published, nor any proof made 

mistake, and so now allowed ? of his design to publish it. 

But the hardship upon Sidney could not be an overt act of 

was, that the book itself, though treason. O. 

written by him, as it was not 


they were his own private thoughts, and specula- 1694, 

tions of government, never communicated to any : 

it was also evident, that the book had been writ 
some years ago : so that could not be pretended to 
be a proof of a late plot : the book was not finished : 
so it could not be known how it would end : a man 
writing against atheism, who sets out the strength 
of it, if he does not finish his answer, could not be 
concluded an atheist, because there was such a chap- 
ter in his book. Jefferies interrupted him often 
very rudely, probably to put him in a passion, to 
which he was subject : but he maintained his tem- 
per to admiration. Finch aggravated the matter of 
the book, as a proof of his intentions, pretending it 
was an overt act ; for he said, scribere est agere ^. 
Jefferies delivered it as law, and said, that all the 
judges were of the same mind, that if there were 
two witnesses, the one to the treason, the other only 
to a circumstance, such as the buying a knife, these 
made the two witnesses, which the statute required 
in cases of treason. In conclusion, Sidney was cast. 
And some days after he was brought to court to re- 
ceive sentence. He then went over his objections 
to the evidence against him, in which judge Withins 
interrupted him, and by a strange indecency gave 
him the lie in open court. But he bore it patiently. 
He sent to lord Halifax, who was his nephew by 
marriage, a paper to be laid before the king, con- 

•= These words, although it seven Bishops, where he ac- 

was his argument, were not knowledges and avows the 

used by Finch, but Jefferies. words. The logic of these 

They were generally given to words was this ; A concealed 

the first, and by way of re- act of writing is an open act in 

proach, made an appellation treason. O. Yet this Finch 

for him : but see the State was made earl of Aylsford by 

Trials. Yet see the Trial of the king Greorge. S. 


i684. taining the main points of his defence : upon which 
'~~' he appealed to the king, and desired he would re- 

view the whole matter. Jefferies upon that in his 
furious way said, either Sidney must die, or he must 
, die. His execution was respited for three weeks, 
the trial being universally cried out on, as a piece 
of most enormous injustice. When he saw the war- 
rant of his execution, he expressed no concern at it. 
And the change that was now in his temper amazed 
all that went to him. He told the sheriffs that 
brought it, he would not expostulate upon any thing 
on his own account ; (for the world was now no- 
thing to him ;) but he desired they would consider 
how guilty they were of his blood, who had not re- 
turned a fair jury, but one packed, and as they were 
directed by the king's solicitor : he spoke this to 
them, not for his own sake, but for their sake. One 
of the sheiiffs was struck with this, and wept. He 
told it to a person, from whom Tillotson had it, who 
told it me^. Sidney wrote a long vindication of 
himself, (which I read,) and summed up the sub- 
573 stance of it in a paper that he gave the sheriffs : 
tfon^nd" but, suspecting they might suppress it, he gave a 
last paper, copy of it to a friend. It was a fortnight before it 
was printed, though we had all the speeches of those 
who died for the popish plot printed the very next 
day. But, when it was understood that written 
copies of Sidney's speech were going about, it was 
also printed. In it he shewed his innocence ; that 
lord Howard was an infamous person, and that no 
credit was due to him: yet he did not deny the 
matter he swore against him. As for his book, he 

^ Admirable authority. S. 


shewed what reason all princes had to abhor Fil- \6e*. 
mer's maxims : for if primogeniture from Noah was 
the gi'ound settled by God for monarchy, then all 
the princes now in the world were usurpers : none 
claiming by that pedigree, and this primogeniture 
being only in one person. He said, since God did 
not now by any declaration of his will, as of old by 
prophets, mark out such or such persons for princes, 
they could have no title but what was founded on 
law and compact : and this was that in which the 
difference lay between lawful princes and usurpers : 
if possession was a donation from God, (which Fil- 
mer had substituted to the conceit of primogeni- 
ture,) then every prosperous usurper had a good 
right. He concluded with a prayer, that the nation 
might be preserved from idolatry and tyranny. And 
he said, he rejoiced that he suffered for the old 
cause, in which he was so early engaged. These 
last words furnished much matter to the scribblers of 
that time. In his imprisonment he sent for some 
independent preachers, and expressed to them a 
deep remorse for his past sins, and great confidence 
iti the mercies of God. And indeed he met death 
with an unconcemedness that became one who had 
set up Marcus Brutus for his pattern. He was but 
a very few minutes on the scaffold at tower hill : he 
spoke little, and prayed very short : and his head 
was cut off at one blow ^. 

« (The following fine lines bered to have stood at that 

are taken from Dr. Butson time : 

now bishop of Clonfert's poem Here let the muse withdraw the blood- 
on the Love of our Country, stain'd steel, 

which gained the chancellor's And .hew the boldest «,n of public 

prize at Oxford m 1 7 7 1 . 1 hey lo 1 Sidney blfeeding o'er the block ! 
are given as they are remem- his air, his mien, 



1684. At this time an accident happened, that surprised 
Monmouth ^oth the coui't and city; and which, if well ma- 
came in, nagcd, might probably have produced great effects, 
pardoned. The dukc of Moumouth had lurked in England all 
this summer, and was then designing to go beyond 
sea, and to engage in the Spanish service. The 
king still loved him passionately. Lord Halifax, 
seeing matters run so much further than he appre- 
hended, thought that nothing could stop that so ef- 
fectually as the bringing the duke of Monmouth 
again into favour. That duke writ to the king se- 
574veral letters, penned with an extraordinary force. 
Lord Halifax drew them all, as he himself told me, 
and shewed me his own draughts of them. By 
these the king was moUified, and resolved to restore 
him again to his favour ^. It stuck much at the con- 
fession that he was to make. The king promised 
that no use should be made of it : but he stood on 
it, that he must tell him the whole truth of the 
matter. Upon which he consented to satisfy the 
king. But he would say nothing to the duke, more 
than to ask his pardon in a general compUment. 
Lord Halifax had pressed him earnestly upon his 
first appearance to be silent, and for a while to bear 
the censures of the town. The last day of the term 
was very near, in which all the prisoners were to be 

Hb voice, Lis band, unshaken, firm, Unconquer'd patriot ! forin'd by an- 

serene '. cient lore 

Yet no diffuse harangue declaim'd The love of ancient freedom to re- 

aloud, store ; 

To gain the plaudits of a wayward Who nobly acted what he boldly 

crowd : thought, 

No specious feint, death's terrors to And seal'd by death the lesson that 

defy, he taught.) 

Still death delaying as afraid to die ; f (gee two of these letters in 

But sternly silent, down he bows to , \ ,. „ , n- r 

prove, the Appendix to oprat s Hist, ot 

How firm, unperishing, his public the Conspiracy, p. 137 — 140.) 


discharged according to the habeas corpus act. Tliat i684. 
would shew he had discovered nothing to their pre- 
judice. So that all discourses concerning his con- 
fession and discoveries would vanish in a few days. 
And if he had followed this, probably it would have 
given a great turn to affairs. The king spoke no- 
thing of the reconciliation to the duke of York, till 
the day Ijefore it was to be done. He was much 
struck with it : but the king was positive. Yet the 
duke's creatures in the cabinet council moved, that 
for form's sake he should be for some days put in 
the tower. The king cut that off by saying he had 
promised to pardon him. The duke of Monmouth, 
as was agreed, made a humble confession of his of- 
fences in general words to the king; and made a 
compliment to the duke, and begged that he would 
intercede with the king to pardon him. The king 
received him with a fondness that confounded all 
the duke's party : he used him more tenderly than 
he had done formerly. The duke put on an out- 
ward appearance of being very well pleased with it. 
The king said next day, that James (for so he called 
him) had confirmed all that Howard had sworn ^. 

B The last duke of Bucking- " king and duke of York, lie 
ham (Sheffield) told me, that " freely owned his knowledge 
the king assured him, that the " of the whole conspiracy, ex- 
duke of Monmouth had con- " cept what related to the in- 
firmed every word that lord " tended assassination, with 
Howard had sworn, and would " which he averred he never 
have been a witness if the king " was acquainted. He named all 
had thought it proper. D. (The " the persons concerned with 
duke of York, in an account of " him in it, and did not contra- 
the duke of Monmouth's con- " diet any thing njy lord How- 
fession, begins with the follow- " ard had said, except one par- 
ing particulars : " Mr. Secre- " ticular, which was not ma- 
" tary Jenkins being withdrawn, " terial. He very well remem- 
" and. none present but the " bered what Rumney had said- 

VOL. II. D d 


1684. This was carried to the duke of Monmouth, who 
denied he had ever said any such thing ; adding, 
that lord Howard was a liar and a rogue : and this 
was set round the town by his creatures, who run 
with it from coffee-house to coffee-house. The next 
gazette mentioned that the king had pardoned him 
upon his confessing the late plot. Lord Halifax 
pressed the duke of Monmouth to pass that over, 
and to impute it to the importunity of his enemies, 
and to the king's easiness : but he could not prevail. 
Yet he said little till his pardon was past. But 
then he openly denied that he had confessed the 
plot. By that he engaged himself in a plain con- 
575 tradiction to what the king had said. Some were 
brought by the duke to the king, who confirmed, 
they had heard the duke of Monmouth say, that he 
had not confessed the plot : upon which the king or- 
dered him to give a confession of it under his hand. 
Lord Halifax pressed him to write a letter to the 
king, acknowledging he had confessed the plot. 
Plot was a general word, that might signify as much 
or little as a man pleased : they had certainly dan- 
gerous consultations among them, which might be 
well called plots. He said, the service he might do 
his friends by such a general letter, and by his gain- 
ing the king's heart upon it, would quickly balance 
the seeming prejudice that such a general acknow- 

" of my lord Russel, who, when p, 742. It is added, that the 

" Trenchard had failed him, king promised the duke of 

" said, he would put on his Monmouth, that he should not 

" boots, and go to Taunton be obliged to appear as a witness 

** himself, and make the peo- against his friends. Compare 

" pie rise, &c. &c." Life of the Appendix to bishop Sprat's 

king James II. lately published Account of the Conspiracy, p. 

from the Stuart Papers, vol. i. 136.) See Welwood, p. 142. O. 


ledgment would bring them under, which could do i684. 
them no hurt. Upon that he got him to write a " 

letter to that purpose, which he carried to the king. 
And the king was satisfied. But the duke of Mon- 
mouth, whether of himself, or upon the suggestion 
of others, reflected on what he had done, and thought 
it a base thing. Though this was no evidence, yet 
he thought it might have an influence on juries, to 
make them believe every thing that might be sworn 
by other witnesses, when, from his confession, they 
were possessed with a general belief of the plot. 
So he went full of uneasiness to the king, and de- 
sired he might have his letter again, in the terms of 
an agony like despair. The king gave it back, but 
pressed him vehemently to comply with his desire '' : 
and among other things the duke of Monmouth 
said, that the king used this expression ; If you do 
not yield in this, you will ruin me. Yet he was 
firm. So the king forbid him the court, and spoke But soon 
of him more severely than he had ever done for- graced."" 

^ (The duke of Monmouth's " said conspiracy, &c. &c." But 

letter to the king, written sub- according to Echard, in his 

sequently to his surrendering Hist, of England, p, 1039, this 

himself and his being pardoned, letter was indited by the king, 

began in these terms : " I have and written over again by the 

" heard of some reports of me, duke without hesitation, who 

" as if I sho\ild have lessened subscribed it, and presented it 

" the late plot, and gone about to his majesty. The king after- 

" to discredit the evidence wards, on the duke's applica- 

" given against those who have tion at different times, restored 

" died by justice. Your ma- it to him. This is the account 

" jesty and the duke know Echard gives, following Sprat in 

" how ingenuously 1 have own- his authorized History of this 

" ed the late conspiracy, and Conspiracy ; in the Appendix 

" though I was not conscious to which Hist, the duke's letter, 

" of any design against your and, as was observed, the two 

" majesty's life, yet I lament others sent by him to the king, 

" the having had so great a before he surrendered himself, 

** share in the other part of the are to be seen.) 

Dd 2 



1684. merly. He was upon this more valued and trusted 
by his own party than ever. After some days he 
went beyond sea : and after a short concealment he 
appeared publicly in Holland, and was treated by 
the prince of Orange with a very particular respect. 

The prince had come for a few days to England 
after the Oxford parliament, and had much private 
discourse with the king at Windsor. The king as- 
sured him, that he would keep things quiet, and not 
give way to the duke's eagerness, as long as he 
lived: and added, he was confident, whenever the 
duke should come to reign, he would be so restless 
and violent, that he could not hold it four years to 
an end. This I had from the prince's own mouth K 
Another passage was told me by the earl of Port- 

' (A remarkable passage con- 
firmatory of this account occurs 
in the Memoirs of sir Richard 
Bulstrode, a Roman catholic, 
who had been the resident at 
the court of Brussels. *' About 
" two years before the death of 
" king Charles II. he gave me 
" leave to come into England, 
*• and sent the Katherine yacht 
" to Ostend for me. Some 
" days after ray arrival at White- 
" hall, he commanded me to 
" walk with him to Hyde park, 
" and as I walked with him, 
" the rest of the company keep- 
" ing at a good distance, he 
" told me, that I had served 
" him very well at Brussels, 
" and that his brother had given 
" him a very good account of 
" my carriage towards him 

*• there And after hav- 

*• ing asked me many questions 
" about the nobility of those 
" countries, he said, that during 

his exile abroad he had seen 
many countries, of which none 
pleased him so much as that 
of the Flemings, which were 
the most honest and true- 
hearted race of people that 
he had met with : and then 
added, But I am weary of tra- 
velling, I am resolved to go 
abroad no more : but when I 
am dead and gone, I know not 
what my brother will do. I 
am much afraid, that when he 
comes to the crown, he will be 
obliged to travel again. And 
yet I will take care to leave 
my kingdoms to him in peace, 
wishing he may long keep 
them so. But this hath all of 
my fears, little of my hopes, 
and less of my reason; and I 
am much afraid, that when 
my brother comes to the 
crown, he will be obliged 
again to leave his native soil." 
. 424.) , 


land. The king shewed the prince one of his seals ; i684. 
and told him, that whatever he might write to him, 717 
if the letter was not sealed with that seal, he was to 
look on it as only drawn from him by importunity. 
The reason for which I mention that in this place 
is, because, though the king wrote some terrible let- 
ters to the prince against the countenance he gave 
to the duke of Monmouth, yet they were not sealed 
with that seal ; from which the prince infeiTed, that 
the king had a mind that he should keep him about 
him, and use him well. And the king gave orders, 
that in all the entries that were made in the council 
books of this whole business, nothing should be left 
on record that could blemish him. 

Hamden was now the only man of the six thatHamden's 
was left. Yet there was nothing but Howard's evi- 
dence against him, without so much as any circum- 
stance to support it. So, since two witnesses were 
necessary to treason, (whereas one was enough for 
a misdemeanor,) he was indicted of a misdemeanor, 
though the crime was either treason or nothing. 
Jefferies, upon Howard's evidence, charged the jury 
to bring him in guilty: otherwise, he told them, 
they would discredit all that had been done before. 
So they brought him in guilty. And the court set 
40,000/. fine on him, the most extravagant fine that 
had ever been set for a misdemeanor in that court. 
It amounted indeed to an imprisonment for life. 

Sometime in the spring eighty-four, Halloway Haiiow»y't 
was taken in the West Indies, and sent over. He ****^" '""' 
was under an outlawry for treason. The attorney 
general offered him a trial, if he desired it. But he 
was prevailed on, by the hope of a pardon, to sub- 
mit, and confess all he knew. He said, he was 



1684. drawn into some meetings, in which they consulted 
how to raise an insurrection, and that he and two 
more had undertaken to manage a design for seizing 
on Bristol, with the help of some that were to come 
to them from Taunton : but he added, that they 
had never made any progress in it. He said, at 
their meetings at London, Rumsey and West were 
often talking of lopping the king and the duke : 
but that he had never entered into any discourse 
with them upon that subject : and he did not be- 
lieve there were above five persons that approved of 
it. These were West, Rumsey, Rumbold, and his 
brother : the fifth person is not named in the printed 
relation. Some said, it was Ferguson : others said, 
it was Goodenough. Halloway was thought by the 
court not to be sincere in his confession. And so, 
since what he had acknowledged made himself very 
577 guil*^y> he was executed, and died with a firm con- 
stancy. He shewed great presence of mind. He 
observed the partiality that was evident in manag- 
ing this plot, different from what had appeared in 
managing the popish plot. The same men who 
were called rogues when they swore against papists, 
were looked on as honest men when they turned 
their evidence against protestants. In aU his an- 
swers to the sheriffs, who at the place of execution 
troubled him with many impertinent questions, [that 
shewed their dulness as well as their officiousness,] 
he answered them with so much life, and yet with 
so much temper, that it appeared he was no ordi- 
nary man. His speech was suppressed for some 
days : Ijut it broke out at last. In it he expressed 
a deep sense of religion : his prayer was an excel- 
lent composure. The credit of the Rye^plot re- 


ceived a great blow by his confession. All that '684. 
discourse about an insurrection, in which the day 
was said to be set, appeared now to be a fiction; 
since Bristol had been so little taken care of, that 
three persons had only undertaken to dispose people 
to that design, but had not yet let it out to any of 
them. So that it was plain, that after all the story 
they had made of the plot, it had gone no further, 
than that a company of seditious and inconsiderable 
persons were framing among themselves some trea- 
sonable schemes, that were never likely to come to 
any thing''; and that Rumsey and West had pushed 
on the execrable design of the assassination, in 
which, though there were few that agreed to it, yet 
too many had heard it from them, who were both 
so foolish and so wicked, as not to discover them. 

But if the court lost much by the death of HaUo- Ann- 

, strong's 

way, whom they had brought from the West Indies, death. 
they lost much more by their proceedings against 
sir Thomas Armstrong, who was surprised at Ley- 
den, by virtue of a warrant that Chudleigh the 
king's envoy had obtained from the States, for seiz- 
ing on such as should fly out of England on the 
account of the plot. So the scout at Leyden, for 
five thousand gilders, seized on him ; and delivered 
him to Chudleigh, who sent him over in great haste. 
Armstrong in that confusion forgot to claim that he 
was a native of the States : for he was bom at Ni- 
meguen : and that would have obliged the Dutch to 
have protected him, as one of their natural bom 
subjects. He was trusted in every thing by the 
duke of Monmouth : and he having led a very vi- 

'' Cursed partiality. S. 
D d 4 


j6s4. eious life, the court hoped that he, not being able 
to bear the thoughts of dying, would discover every 
thing. He shewed such a dejection of mind, while 
he was concealing himself, before he escaped out of 
578 England, that Hamden, who saw him at that time, 
told me, he believed he would certainly do any 
thing that would save his life. Yet all were dis- 
appointed in him : for when he was examined be- 
fore the council, he said, he knew of no plot but the 
popish plot: he desired he might have a fail* trial 
for his life : that was all he asked. He was loaded 
with irons ; though that was not ordinary for a man 
who had served in such posts, as to be lieutenant of 
the first troop of guards, and gentleman of the horse 
to the king. There was nothing against him, but 
what Rumsey and Shepherd had sworn of the dis- 
courses at Shepherd's, for which lord Russel had 
suffered. But by this time the credit of the wit- 
nesses was so blasted, that it seems the court was 
afraid that juries would not now be so easy as they 
had been. The thing that Rumsey had sworn 
against liim seemed not very credible : for he swore 
that at the first meeting, Armstrong undertook to 
go and view the guards in order to the seizing 
them ; and that upon a view, he said at a second 
meeting, that the thing was very feasible. But 
Armstrong, who had commanded the guards so 
long, knew every thing that related to them so 
well, that without such a transient view he could of 
the sudden have answered every thing relating to 
them. The court had a mind to proceed in a sum- 
mary way with him, that he should by the hui'ry of 
it be driven to say any thing that could save him. 
He was now in an outlawry : but though the sta- 


tute was express, that if an outlawed person came i684. 
in at any time within the year, he was to have a 
trial, notwithstanding his outlawry. It was pre- 
tended, in answer to this, that he not coming in, but 
being taken, had not a right to the benefit of the 
statute. But there were several months of the year 
yet to run. And since a trial was a demand founded 
on natural justice, he insisted on it. And when he 
was brought to the king's bench bar, and asked 
what he had to say why sentence should not be ex- 
ecuted, he claimed the benefit of the statute. He 
said, he had yet, when he was taken, several months 
to deliberate upon his coming in : and the seizing 
on him before his time was out, ought not to bar 
him a right that the law gave him. He also men- 
tioned Halloway, to whom a trial was offered the 
former term. And, since it was a point of law, he 
desired council might be heard to argue it. Jef- 
feries rejected all this: he said, the king might 
either .offer a trial or not, as he saw cause: and he 
refused to hear council: which being demanded 
upon a point of law, the denying it was thought a579 
very impudent piece of injustice. And when Arm- 
strong insisted, that he asked nothing but the law, 
Jefferies in his brutal way said, he should have it to 
the full; and so ordered his execution within six 
days. And the law was executed on him with the 
utmost rigour : for he was carried to Tyburn in a 
sledge, and was quartered, and his quarters were 
set up. His carriage, during his imprisonment and 
at his death, was far beyond what could have been 
imagined. He turned himself whoUy to the thoughts 
of God, and of another state ; and was praying con. 
tinually. He rejoiced, that he was brought to die 


1684. in such a manner. He said, it was scarce possible 
for him to have been awakened into a due sense of 
his sins by any other method. His pride and his 
resentments were then so entirely conquered, that 
one who saw him said to me, that it was not easy 
to think it was the same person whom he had 
known formerly. He "received the sacrament ; and 
died in so good a temper, and with so much quiet 
in his mind, and so serene a deportment', that we 
have scarce known in our time a more eminent in- 
stance of the grace and mercy of God. Armstrong 
in his last paper denied, that he ever knew of any 
design against the king's or the duke's life, or was 
in any plot against the government *". There were 
no remarks published on his speech, which it was 
believed the court ordered : for they saw how much 
ground they had lost by this stretch of law, and 
how little they had gained by his death. One pas- 
sage in it was the occasion of their ordering no such 
reflections to be made on it, as had been made on 
the other speeches. The king had published a story 
all about the court, and had told it to the foreign 
ministers, as the reason of this extreme severity 

I (" In this account I can " mind, as I never observed in 

" contradict him myself; 1 saw *' any Englishman in the same 

" that unhappy man go to die. " cxrcumsl^nces." Higgons's R€~ 

" As he passed along, he threw marks on this Hist. p. 269.) 
*' about his arms, as far as the "" (" Burnet is mistaken in 

" rope that tied him would per- " saying that Armstrong denied 

" mit, turned about his head af- " having been engaged in any 

" ter an unusual manner, drew " design against the govem- 

" and shrugged up his shoul- " ment. His words, as we see 

" ders, with such convulsions " above, were, to alter the go- 

" and distortions of his counte- " vernment." Lord John Rus- 

" nance, such visible marks of sell's Life of Lord Russell, note, 

" passion, as shewed so great a p. 257.) 
" disorder and perturbation of 


against Armstrong: he said, that he was sent over i684. 
by Cromwell to murder him beyond sea, and that 
he was warned of it, and challenged him on it ; and 
that upon his confessing it he had promised him 
never to speak of it any more as long as he lived. 
So the king, counting him now dead in law, thought 
he was free from that promise ". Armstrong took 
this heavily : and in one paper which I saw, writ 
in his own hand, the resentments upon it were 
sharper than I thought became a dying penitent. 
So, when that was represented to him, he changed 
it: and in the paper he gave the sheriffs he had 
softened it much. But yet he shewed the falsehood 
of that report : for he never went beyond sea but 
once, sent by the earl of Oxford, and some other 580 
cavaliers, with a considerable present to the king in 
money, which he delivered ; and brought back let- 
ters of thanks from the king to those who made the 
present. But Cromwell having a hint of this, clapt 
him up in prison, where he was kept almost a year. 
And upon the merit of that service, he was made a 
captain of horse soon after the restoration. When 
Jefferies came to the king at Windsor, soon after 
this trial, the king took a ring of good value from 
his finger, and gave it him for these services : the 
ring upon that was called his blood-stone. The 
king gave him one advice, which was somewhat ex- 
traordinaiy from a king to a judge ; but it was not 
the less necessary to him : the king said, it was a 
hot summer, and he was going the circuit, he there- 
fore desired he would not drink too much. With 

" If the king had a mind to lie, he would have staid till 
Armstrong was hanged. S. 

i684. this I leave the affairs of England, to look towards 

Great seve- Great pains were taken there to make a further 
Scotland, discovery of the negotiation between the English 
and the Scots. A gentleman, who had. been at 
BothweU-bridge, was sent over by the Cargillites to 
some of their friends in HoUand : and he carried 
with him some letters writ in an odd cant. He 
was seized at Newcastle, together with his letters ; 
and was so frighted, that he was easily managed to 
pretend to discover any thing that was suggested to 
him. But he had never been at London : so he 
could speak of that negotiation but upon hearsay. 
His story was so ill laid together, that the court 
was ashamed to make any use of it : but it turned 
heavily on himself, for he went mad upon it. Two 
others came in, and charged sir Hugh Cambell of 
Cesnock, an ancient gentleman of a good estate, 
that he had set on the rebellion of BothweU-bridge, 
and had chid them for deserting it. Upon this he 
was brought to a trial. In Scotland the law allows 
of an exculpation, by which the prisoner is suffered 
before his trial to prove the thing to be impossible. 
This was prayed by that gentleman, who had full 
proofs of his being elsewhere, and at a great distance 
from the place, at that time. But that is a favour 
which the court may grant, or not : so that was de- 
nied him. The first witness that was examined at 
his trial began with a general story : and when he 
came to that in which the prisoner was concerned, 
CambeU charged him to look him fiiU in the face, 
and to consider weU what he was to say of him ; for 
be took God to witness, he never saw his face be- 


fore, as far as he could remember. Upon that the i684. 
witness was struck, and stopped; and said, he could TTI 
say nothing of him. The earl of Perth was then 
justice general, and offered to lead him into his 
story. But the jury stopped that ; and said, that 
he upon his oath had declared he knew nothing of 
the prisoner, and that after that they could have no 
regard to any thing that he might say. Upon 
which some sharp words passed between lord Perth 
and them, in which he shewed how ready he was to 
sacrifice justice and innocent blood to his ambition. 
And that was yet grosser in this case ; because his 
brother was promised that gentleman's estate, when 
it should be confiscated. The second witness said 
nothing, but seemed confounded: so Cambell was 
acquitted by the jury, but was still kept in prison. 
These witnesses were again examined before the 
council : and they adhered to their first deposition 
against the prisoner. The law in Scotland is very 
severe against false witnesses, and treats them as 
felons. But the government there would not dis- 
courage such practices ; of which, when they should 
be more lucky, they intended to make good use. 
The circuits went round the country, as was di- 
rected by the proclamation of the former year. 
Those who were most guilty compounded the mat- 
ter, and paid liberally to a creature of the lord 
chancellor's, that their names might be left out of 
the citations. Others took the test : and that freed 
them from all further trouble. They said openly, 
that it was against their conscience ; but they saw 
they could not live in Scotland, unless they took it. 
Others observed, that the severity which the pres- 
byterians formerly had used, forcing all people to 


1684. take their covenant, was now returned back on 
them in this test, that they were thus forced to 
A breach in Jn the mean while a great breach was formed, 
there. "^ *^ and appeared on all occasions, between the earls of 
Aberdeen and Queensbury. The latter was very 
exact in his payments, both of the soldiers and of 
the pensions: so his party became the strongest. 
Lord Aberdeen's method was this : he ^vrit up let- 
ters to the duke of all affairs, and offered expedients, 
which he pretended were concerted at Edenburgh ; 
and sent with them the draughts of such letters, as 
he desired should be sent down from the king. But 
these expedients were not concerted, as he said: 
they were only his own conceits. Lord Queens- 
bury, offended with this, let the duke understand 
how he had been deceived. So an order was sent 
dovm that all expedients should be concerted by a 
junto, consisting of lord Queensbury's creatures. 
582 Lord Aberdeen saw that by this he came to signify 
little : and seeing he was losing ground at court, he 
intended to recover himself a little with the people. 
So he resolved for the future to keep to the law, 
and not to go beyond it. And such was the fury 
of that time, that this was called moderation and 
popularity. The churches were now all well kept 
by the men : but their wives not being named in 
the act of parliament, none of them went to church. 
The matter was laid before the council : and a de- 
bate arose upon it ; whether, man and wife making 
one person in law, husbands should not be fined for 
their wives' offence, as well as for their own. Lord 
Aberdeen stood upon this, that the act did not men- 
tion the wives: it did indeed make the husbands 


liable to a fine, if their wives went to conventicles ; i684, 

for they had it in their power to restrain them : and 

since the law provided in the one case, that the hus- 
band should suffer for his wife's fault, but had made 
no provision in the other case, as to their going to 
church, he thought the fining them on that account 
could not be legally done. Lord Queensbury was 
for every thing that would bring money into the 
treasury : so, since in those parts the ladies had for 
many years withdrawn wholly from the churches, 
he reckoned the setting fines on their husbands to 
the rigour would make all the estates of the country 
be at mercy ; for the selling them outright would 
not have answered this demand for the offences of 
so many years. The earl of Perth struck in with 
this, and seemed to set it up for a maxim, that the 
presbyterians could not be governed, but with the 
extremity of rigour ; and that they were irreconcile- 
able enemies to the king and the duke, and that 
therefore they ought to be extirpated. The minis- 
try in Scotland being thus divided, they referred the 
decision of the point to the king : and lord Perth 
came up to have his resolution upon it. The king 
determined against the ladies : which was thought 
very indecent ; for in dubious cases the nobleness of 
a jHince's temper should always turn him to the 
merciful side. This was the less expected from the 
king, who had all his lifetime expressed as great a 
neglect of women's consciences, as esteem for their 

But to do him right, he was determined to it by The dake 

, governed 

the duke ; who, since the breaking out of the plot, aii affairs. 
had got the whole management of affairs, English 
as well as Scotish, into his hands. Scotland was so 


i684. entirely in his dependance, that the king would sel- 
2gg dom ask what the papers imported, which the duke 
brought to be signed by him. In England, the ap- 
pUcation and dependance was visibly on the duke. 
The king had scarce company about him to enter- 
tain him, when the duke's levees and couchees were 
so crowded, that the antichambers were full. The 
king walked about with a small train of the neces- 
sary attendants, when the duke had a vast follow- 
ing : which drew a lively reflection from Waller, the 
celebrated wit. He said, the house of commons had 
resolved that the duke should not reign after the 
king's death : but the king, in opposition to them, 
was resolved he should reign even during his life. 
The breach grew to that height between lord Aber- 
deen and lord Queensbury, that both were called up 
to give an account of it. It ended in dismissing 
lord Aberdeen, and making lord Perth chancellor, 
to which he had been long aspiring in a most inde- 
cent manner °. He saw into the duke's temper, 
that his spirit was turned to an unrelenting se- 
verity : for this had appeared very indecently in 
The cruelty Whcu any are to be struck in the boots, it is done 

of the duke, . 

and of his m the presence of the council : and upon that oc- 
torturing. casiou almost all offer to run away. The sight is so 
dreadful, that without an order restraining such a 
number to stay, the board would be forsaken. 
But the duke, while he had been in Scotland, was 
so far from withdrawing, that he looked on all the 
while with an unmoved indifference, and with an 
attention, as if he had been to look on some curious 

'-. ■*» Decent and indecent, very useful words to this author. S. 


experiment. This gave a terrible idea of him to aU i664. 
that observed it, as of a man that had no bowels nor 
humanity in him. Lord Perth, observing this, re- 
solved to let him see how well qualified he was to be 
an inquisitor general. The rule about the boots in 
Scotland was, that upon one witness and presump- 
tions both together, the question might be given : 
but it was never known to be twice given ; or that 
^ny other species of torture, besides the boots, might 
be used at pleasure. In the court of inquisition they 
do upon suspicion, or if a man refuses to answer 
upon oath as he is required, give him the torture; 
and repeat it, or vary it, as often as they think fit ; 
and do not give over, till they have got out of their 
mangled prisoners all that they have a mind to know 
from them. 

This lord Perth resolved to make his pattern : 
and was a little too early in letting the world see, 
what a government we were to expect under the in- 
fluence of a prince of that religion. So, upon his 
going to Scotland, one Spence, who was a servant of 
lord Argile's, and was taken up at London, only 584 
upon suspicion, and sent down to Scotland, was re- 
quired to take an oath to answer aU the questions 
that should be put to him. This was done in a di- 
rect contradiction to an express law against obliging 
men to swear, that they will answer super inqui^ 
rendis. Spence likewise said, that he himself might 
be concerned in what he might know ; and it was 
against a very universal law, that excused all men 
from swearing against themselves, to force him to 
take such an oath. So he was struck in the boots, 
and continued firm in his refusal. Then a new sjie- 
cies of torture was invented : he was kept from sleep 

VOL. II. Ee 


1684. eight or nine nights. They grew weary of manag- 
ing this. So a third species was invented : little 
screws of steel were made use of, that screwed the 
thumbs with so exquisite a torment, that he sunk 
under this ; for lord Perth told him, they would 
screw every joint of his whole body, one after an- 
other, till he took the oath. Yet such was the firm- 
ness and fidelity of this poor man, that even in that 
extremity he capitulated, that no new questions 
should be put to him, but those already agreed on ; 
and that he should not be obliged to be a witness 
against any person, and that he himself should be 
pardoned : so all he could tell them was, who were 
lord Argile's correspondents. The chief of them 
was Holmes at London, to whom lord Argile writ in 
a cipher, that had a. peculiar curiosity in it : a double 
key was necessary : the one was, to shew the way of 
placing the words or cipher, in an order very dif- 
ferent from that in which they lay in the paper : the 
other was, the key of the ciphers themselves, which 
was found among Holmes's papers, when he ab- 
sconded. Spence knew only the first of these : but 
he putting all in its true order, then by the other 
key they were deciphered. In these it appeared 
wh^t Argile had demanded, and what he undertook 
to do upon the granting his demands : but none of 
his letters spoke any thing of any agreement then 

When the torture had this effect on Spence, they 
offered the same oath to Carstairs. And, upon his 
refusing to take it, they put his thumbs in the 
screws ; and drew them so hard, that as they put 
him to extreme torture, so they could not unscrew 
them, tin the smith that made them was brought 


with his tools to take them off. So he confessed all 1684; 

he knew, which amounted to little more than some " 

discourses of taking off the duke ; to which he said 
that he answered, his principles could not come up 
to that : yet in this he, who was a preacher among 
them, was highly to blame, for not revealing such 585 
black propositions ; though it cannot be denied, but 
that it is a hard thing to discover any thing that is 
said in confidence : and therefore I saved my self 
out of those difficulties by saying to all my friends, 
that I would not be involved in any such confidence ; 
for as long as I thought our circumstances were such 
that resistance was not lawful, I thought the con- 
cealing any design in order to it was likewise un- 
lawful : and by this means I had preserved my self ^ 
But Carstairs had at this time some secrets of great 
consequence from Holland trusted to him by Fagel, 
of which they had no suspicion : and so they asked 
him no questions about them. Yet Fagel saw by 
that, as he himself told me, how faithful Carstairs 
was, since he could have saved himself from torture, 
and merited highly, if he had discovered them. And 
this was the foundation of his favour with the prince 
of Orange, and of the great confidence he put in 
him to his death. 

Upon what was thus screwed out ^ of these two Proceedingt 
persons, the earl of Tarras, who had mamed theuaiiiie. 
duchess of Monmouth's elder sister, and six or seven 
gentlemen of quality, were clapt up. The ministers 
of state were still most earnestly set on Baillie's de- 
struction ; though he was now in so languishing a 
state, occasioned chiefly by the bad usage he met 

P Jesuitical. 8. 1 Witty the second time. S. 

£ e 2 


i684. with in prison, that if his death would have satisfied 
the malice of the court, that seemed to be very near. 
But they knew how acceptable a sacrifice his dying 
in a more violent way would prove. So they con- 
tinued even in that extremity to use him barba- 
rously. They were also trying what could be drawn 
from those gentlemen against him. Terras had mar- 
ried his niece, who was his second wife. So they con- 
cluded that their confidence was entire. Baillie's 
iUness increased daily : and his wife prayed for leave 
to attend on him : and, if they feared an escape, 
she was willing to be put in irons : but that was de- 
nied. Nor would they suffer his daughter, a child 
of twelve years old, to attend him, even when he 
was so low, that it was not probable he could Hve 
many weeks, his legs being much swelled. But 
upon these examinations a new method in proceed- 
ing against him was taken. An accusation was sent 
him, not in the form of an indictment, nor grounded 
on any law, but on a letter of the king's, in which 
he charged him not only for a conspiracy to raise re- 
bellion, but for being engaged in the Rye-plot ; of all 
which he was now required to purge himself by 
oath, otherwise the council would hold him guilty of 
586 it, and proceed accordingly. He was not, as they 
said, now in a criminal court upon his life, but be- 
fore the council, who did only fine and imprison. It 
was to no purpose for him to say, that by no law, 
unless it was in a court of inquisition, a man could 
be required to swear against himself, the temptation 
to perjury being so strong when self-preservation 
was in the case, that it seemed against all law and 
religion to lay such a snare in a man's way. But 
to answer all this, it was pretended he was not now 


on his life, and that wliatsoever he confessed was i684. 
not to be made use of against his life ; as if the ruin 
of his family, which consisted of nine children, and 
perpetual imprisonment, were not more terrible, espe- 
cially to one so near his end as he was, than death 
itself. But he had to do with inexorable men : so 
he was required to take this oath within two days. 
And by that time, he not being able to appear be- 
fore the council, a committee of council was sent to 
tender him the oath, and to take his examination. 
He told them, he was not able to speak by reason 
of the low state of his health, which appeared very 
evidently to them : for he had almost died while they 
were with him. He in general protested his inno- 
cence, and his abhorrence of all designs against the 
king, or the duke's life : for the other interrogatories, 
he desired they might be left with him, and he would 
consider them. They persisted to require him to 
take his oath : but he as firmly refused it. So, 
upon their report, the council construed this refusal 
to be a confession : and fined him 6000/. and or- 
dered him to lie still in prison till it was paid. After 
this, it was thought that this matter was at an end, 
and that this was a final sentence : but he was still 
kept shut up, and denied all attendance or assistance. 
He seemed all the while so composed, and even so 
cheerful, that his behaviour looked like the reviving 
of the spirit of the noblest of the old Greeks or Ro- 
mans, or rather of the primitive Christians and first 
martyrs in those best days of the church ^ But the 
duke was not satisfied with all this. So the mi- 
nistry applied their arts to Tarras, and the other pri- 

^ For he was our cousio. S. 
E e 3 


1684. soners, threatening them with aU the extremities of 
misery, if they would, not witness treasonable matter 
against Baillie. They also practised on their wives, 
and frightening them, set them on their husbands. 
In conclusion, they gained what had been so much 
laboured : Tarras, and one Murray of Philipshaugh, 
did depose some discourses that Baillie had with 
them before he went up to London, disposing them 
to a rebellion. In these, they swelled up the matter 
587 beyond the truth. Yet all did not amount to a full 
proof. So the ministers, being afraid that a jury 
might not be so easy as they expected, ordered Car- 
stairs's confession to be read in court, not as an evi- 
dence, (for that had been promised him should not 
be done,) but as that which would fully satisfy the 
And his ex- jyi-y ^nd disDose them to believe the witnesses. So 

ecubon. « -' ^ ^ 

Baillie was hurried on to a trial. And upon the 
evidence he was found guilty, and condemned to be 
executed that same day : so afraid they were, lest 
death should be too quick for them. He was very 
little disturbed at all this : his languishing in so so- 
litary a manner made death a very acceptable deli- 
verance to him. He in his last speech shewed, that 
in seversd particulars the witnesses had wronged, 
him : he still denied, all knowledge of any design 
against the king's life or the duke's ; and denied 
any plot against the government : he thought it was 
lawful for subjects, being under such pressures, to 
try how they might be relieved from them : and their 
design never went further : but he would enter into 
no particulars. Thus a learned and a worthy gentle- 
man, after twenty months' hard usage, was brought 
to such a death, in a way so full in all the steps of it 
of the spirit and practice of the courts of inquisition. 


that one is tempted to think that the methods taken 1694. 

in it were suggested by one well studied, if not prac- 

tised in them. The only excuse that was ever pre- 
tended for this infamous prosecution was, that they 
were sure he was guilty * : and that the whole secret 
of the negociation between the two kingdoms was 
trusted to him ; and that, since he would not dis- 
cover it, all methods might be taken to destroy him : 
not considering what a precedent they made on this 
occasion, by which, if men were once possessed of an 
ill opinion of a man, they were to spare neither arti- 
fice nor violence, but to hunt him down by any 
means. I have been perhaps too long in this parti- 
cular ; but the case was so singular, and my relation 
to the person was so near, and my value for hira 
was so great, that I hope I need make no apology 
for it. 

In this I saw how ambition could corrupt one of 
the best tempered men that I had ever known : I 
mean lord Perth, who for above ten years together 
seemed to me incapable of an immoral or cruel ac- 
tion, and yet was now deeply engaged in the foulest 
and blackest of crimes. I had not now seen him 
for two years. But I hoped, that still some good 
impressions had been left in him : and now, when 
he came to London to be made lord chancellor, I 
had a very earnest message from him, desiring by 538 
my means to see Leightoun. I thought that angeli- 
cal man might have awakened in liim some of those 
good principles which he seemed once to have, and 
which were now totally extinguished in him. I 
writ so earnestly to Leightoun, that he came to Lon- 

» Bishop of Rochester. S. (He alludes to bishop Atterbury'a 

£ e 4 


1684. don. Upon his coming to me, I was amazed to see 
him at above seventy look so fresh and well, that 
age seemed as it were to stand still with him : his 
hair was still black, and all his motions were lively : 
he had the same quickness of thought and strength 
of memory, but above aU the same heat and life of 
devotion, that I had ever seen in him. When I took 
notice to him, upon my first seeing him, how well 
he looked, he told me, he was very near his end for 
all that ; and his work and journey both were now 
almost done. This at that time made no gi-eat im- 
pression on me. He was the next day taken with 
an oppression, and as it seemed with a cold and with 
stitches, which was indeed a pleurisy. 
Lei^htoun's* The ucxt day Leightoun sunk so, that both speech 
and sense went away of a sudden : and he continued 
panting about twelve hours ; and then died without 
pangs or convulsions *. I was by him all the while. 
Thus I lost him, who had been for so many years 
the chief guide of my whole life. He had lived ten 
years in Sussex, in great privacy, dividing his time 
wholly between study and retirement, and the doing 
of good : for in the parish where he lived, and in the 
parishes round about, he was always employed in 
preaching, and in reading prayers. He distributed 
aU he had in charities, choosing rather to have it go 
through other people's hands than his own : for I was 
his almoner in London. He had gathered a well 
chosen library of curious as well as useful boolj:s ; 
which he left to the diocese of Dunblane, for the use 
of the clergy there, that country being ill provided 
with books. He lamented oft to me the stupidity 

' Burnet killed him by bringing him to London. S. 


that he observed among the commons of England, i6s4. 
who seemed to be much more insensible in the mat- 
ters of religion, than the commons of Scotland were. 
He retained still a peculiar inclination to Scotland : 
and if he had seen any prospect of doing good 
there, he would have gone and lived and died among 
them. In the short time that the affaii*s of Scot- 
land were in the duke of Monmouth's hands, that 
duke had been possessed with such an opinion of 
him, that he moved the king to write to him, to 
go, and at least live in Scotland, if he would not 
engage in a bishopric there. But that fell with that 
duke's credit. He was in his last years turned to a 
greater severity against popery than I had imagined 589 
a man of his temper, and of his largeness in point of 
opinion, was capable of. He spoke of the corrup- 
tions, of the secular spirit, and of the cruelty that ap- 
peared in that church, with an extraordinary con- 
cern : and lamented the shameful advances that we 
seemed to be making towards popery. He did this 
with a tenderness, and an edge, that I did not ex- 
pect from so recluse and mortified a man. He 
looked on the state the church of England was in 
with very melancholy reflections, and was very 
uneasy at an expression then much used, that it was 
the best constituted church in the world. He 
thought it was truly so, with relation to the doctrine, 
the worship, and the main part of our government. 
But as to the administration, both with relation to 
the ecclesiastical courts and the pastoral care, he 
looked on it as one of the most corrupt he had ever 
seen ". He thought, we looked like a fair carcase of 
a body without a spirit; without that zeal, that 
" Very civil. S. 

1684. strictness of life, and that laboriousness in the clergy 

that became us. 

There were two remarkable circumstances in his 
death. He used often to say, that if he were to 
choose a place to die in, it should be an inn ; it 
looking like a pilgrim's going home, to whom this 
world was all as an inn, and who was weary of the 
noise and confusion in it ^. He added, that the offi- 
cious tenderness and care of friends was an entangle- 
ment to a dying man ; and that the unconcerned 
attendance of those that could be procured in such a 
place would give less disturbance. And he obtained 
what he desired; for he died at the BeU inn, in 
Warwick-lane. Another circumstance was, that 
while he was bishop in Scotland, he took what his 
tenants were pleased to pay him : so that there was 
a great arrear due, which was raised slowly by one 
whom he left in trust with his affairs there : and 
the last payment that he could expect fi'om thence 
was returned up to him about six weeks before his 
death : so that his provision and journey failed both 
at once. And thus in the several parts of this his- 
tory, I have given a very particular account of every 
thing relating to this apostolical man ; whose life I 
would have writ, if I had not found proper places to 
bring the most material parts of it within this work. 
I reckon, that I owed this to that perfect fiiendship 
and fatherly care with which he had always treated 
2?ns of""**' '^^ mentioning his death leads me to name some 
Ih"'s^' other clergymen of note, that died in this and in the 
590 former year. Burnet died in Scotland. And Ross, 

* Canting puppy. S. 


a poor, ignorant, worthless man, but in whom obe- i684. 
dience and fury were so eminent, that tliese supplied 
all other defects, was raised to be the primate of that 
church : which was indeed a sad omen, as well as a 
step to its fall and ruin. Steam, archbishop of Yoric, 
died in the eighty-sixth year of his age : he was a 
sour, ill-tempered man, and minded chiefly the en- 
riching his family>^. He was suspected of popery, be- 
cause he was more than ordinarily compliant in aU 
things to the court, and was very zealous for the 
duke^ Dolben, bishop of Rochester, succeeded him, 
a man of more spirit than discretion, and an ex- 
cellent preacher, but of a fi-ee conversation, which 
laid him open to much censure in a vicious court. 
And indeed he proved a much better archbishop than 
he had been a bishop. Gunning of Ely died this 
summer, a man of great reading : he had in him all 
the subtlety and the disputing humour of a school- 
man : and he studied to infuse that into all those who 
were formed by him. He was strict in the whole 
course of his life : but was a dry man, and much in- 
clined to superstition. He had a great confusion of 
things in his head, and could biing nothing into me- 
thod : so that he was a dark and perplexed preacher. 
His sermons were full of Greek and Hebrew, and of 
the opinions of the fathers. Yet many of the ladies 
of a high form loved to hear him preach : which, the 

y Yet thought author of The ^ (He was probably as much a 

Whole Duty of Man. S. (The ])apist as his patron archbishop 

archbishop had thirteen chil- Laud, whose chaplain he had 

dren. He founded nevertheless been, and who wrote that itn- 

six scholarships in the university mortal book against the Jesuit 

of Cambridge, and gave 1 850/. Fisher, in which, not only the 

towards rebuilding St. Paul's protestant, but the Christian 

cathedral. See Le Neve's Lives cause is defended.) 
of the Proteetant Bishops.) 


1684. king used to say, was because they did not under- 
stand him. Turner succeeded him. He had been 
long in the duke's family, and was in high favour 
with him. He was a sincere and good-natured man, 
of too quick an imagination, and too defective a 
judgment. He was but moderately learned, having 
conversed more with men than with books : and so 
he was not able to do the duke great service. But 
he was so zealous for his succession, that this raised 
him high upon no great stock of sufficiency. Old 
Morley, bishop of Winchester, died this winter, in 
the eighty-seventh year of his age^ He was in 
many respects a very eminent man, zealous against 
popery, and yet a great enemy to the dissenters : he 
was considerably learned, and had a great vivacity 
of thought : but he was too soon provoked, and too 
Uttle master of himself upon those occasions ^ Mew, 

* Not long before his death, was a very good man, but 

(for he then kept his chamber,) grown old and timorous. D. 

my father carried me \vith him (This note has been already 

to Farnham castle. I was not communicated to the public by 

above twelve years old, but re- Sir John Dalrymple in the Ap- 

member the bishop talked much pendix to his Memoirs, vol. ii. 

of the duke, and concluded with p. 289.) 

desiring my father to tell him ^ This character is true. S. 
from him, that if ever he de- This bishopric had been very 
pended upon the doctrine of valuable to Morley, he coming 
non-resistance, he would find into it early after the restor- 
himselfdeceived ; for there were ation, and having the benefit 
very few of that opinion, though of most of the new leases : but 
there were not many of the he was a generous and charita- 
church of England that thought ble man, and of great public spi- 
proper to contradict it in terms ; rit. I have been told his pub- 
but was very sure they would lie benefactions amounted to 
in practice. My father told me, above 40,000?. He left but a 
he had frequently put king small estate to his family, con- 
James in mind of Morley's last sidering what he might have 
message to him, though to very done for them : they are settled 
little purpose ; for all the an- in Hampshire. O. (The last 
8wer was, that the bishop of the family, sir Charles Mor- 


bishop of Bath and Wells, succeeded him: he had \6&4. 

been a captain during the wars, and had been Mid- 

dletoun's secretary, when he was sent to command 
the insurrection that the highlanders of Scotland 
made for the king in fifty-three. After that he came 
into orders : and, though he knew very little of di- 591 
vinity, or of any other learning, and was weak to a 
childish degree, yet obsequiousness and zeal raised 
him through several steps to this great see"^. Ken 
succeeded him in Bath and Wells ; a man of an as- 
cetic course of life, and yet of a very lively temper, 
but too hot and sudden. He had a very edifying 
way of preaching : but it was more apt to move the 
passions, than to instruct. So that his sermons were 
rather beautiful than solid : yet his way in them was 
very taking. The king seemed fond of him. And 
by him and Turner the papists hoped that great pro- 
gress might be made in gaining, or at least deluding 
the clergy. It was observed, that all the men in fa- 
vour among the clergy were unmarried ; from whom 
they hoped they might more probably promise them- 
selves a disposition to come over to them^. 

The prosecution of the dissenters was carried very Oanby and 
high all this year: they were not only proceeded lo^EJd. 

ley of Droxford, in Hants, had to his succession : amongst 

a daughter, who was grand- which the reverend author was 

piother of the present marquis the chief, during the reign of 

of Winchester.) king William. D. (Whilst bi- 

'^ Lord Sunderland told me, shop of Bath and Wells he held 

Mew always took him (viz. that the presidentship of St. John's 

earl of Sunderland) for his father, college, Oxford.) 
who was killed at Newbury, <• (««i)r. Turner was a married 

and used to converse much " man." Higgonss Remarks 

with him upon that foot. He on this History, p. 275. And so 

lived to a great age, which were Sterne and Dolbcn.) 
disappointed many pretenders 


1684. against for going to conventicles, but for not going 
to church, and for not receiving the sacrament ; the 
laws made against papists with relation to those par- 
ticulars, being now applied to them. Many were ex- 
communicated, and ruined by the prosecutions. The 
earl of Danby, for all his severity against lord Shafts- 
bury for moving in the king's bench to be bailed, 
though committed by the lords only for contempt, 
yet had been forced to move often for his being let 
out upon bail. It was certainly a very great hardship 
that he lay under : for he had been nOw five years in 
the tower. And three parliaments had sat. The 
two last had not mentioned him. And now a par- 
liament seemed out of sight. Yet, though he offered 
a very long and learned argument for their bailing 
him, the judges of the king's bench, even Sanders 
himself, were afraid to meddle in it. But Jefferies 
was bolder. So he bailed him. And upon the same 
gi'ounds all the popish lords were also bailed. Oates 
was prosecuted at the duke's suit for scandalous 
words : rogue and traitor were very freely bestowed 
on the duke by him : so an 100,000/. was given, 
which shut him up in a perpetual imprisonment, till 
they saw a fit opportunity to carry matters further 
against him. The duke of Beaufort, lord Peter- 
borough, and some others, brought actions of *c«w- 
dalum magnatzim against those who in the time of 
our great heat had spoke foul things of them : and 
great damages were given by obsequious and zealous 
juries. An information of a higher nature was 
brought against WiUiams, who, though he was a 
592 worthless man, yet was for his zeal chosen speaker 
of the house of commons in the two last parliaments. 


He had licensed the printing the votes, which had in i684. 

them matters of scandal relating to some lords^. So 

an information was brought against him : and he 
upon it demurred to the juiisdiction of the court. 
This was diiven on purpose by the duke*s party, to 
cut off the thoughts of another parliament ; since it 
was not to be supposed, that any house of commons 
could bear the punishing the speaker for obeying 
their orders, 

Jenkins had now done all the drudgery that the some re- 
court had occasion for from him : and being capable TmJi^** 
to serve them in nothing else, he was dismissed 
from being secretary of state : and Godolphin, 
one of the commissioners of the treasury, suc- 
ceeded him. Another commissioner of the treasury, 
Deering, dying at the same time, the earl of Ro- 
chester hoped to have been made lord treasurer. 
He had lost much ground with the king. And the 
whole court hated him, by reason of the stop of all 

« It was for having appoint- seven bishops. He was then 
ed (according to an order of the solicitor general, and undertook 
house of commons) the printing that matter for the court : if he 
of Dangerfield's information, had succeeded in it, he was, as I 
for which he was fined io,oooZ. have been informed, to have had 
and paid the whole, or the the great seal, the ftirj- of Jefle- 
greatest part of it, (as his grand- ries being then somewhat abat- 
son, Sir Watkin, told me.) After ed, and the court displeased 
the revolution, he attempted to with him upon that score. This 
get an act of parliament to re- relaxation of Jcfteries was ob- 
verse the judgment, but did not served to be after his son had 
obtain it. It dropped at first married the heiress of the Pem- 
in the house of commons, but broke family, with whom he 
in 1696. a bill for it passed the had a great part of the estate, 
commons, but failed with the The joy which, it is said, Jeffe- 
lords. He was very odious, on ries shewed on the acquittal of 
account of his behaviour in king the bishops, was because of the 
James's reign, particularly for disapjx)intment his rival Wil- 
what he did in the case of the Hams had by it. O. 


1684. payments, which was chiefly imputed to him. [He 
was become very insolent, and gave into drinking, 
and was charged with corruption in the treasury ^] 
Lord Halifax and lord North ^ joined their interest 
to bring in two other commissioners upon him, 
without so much as letting him know of it, tiU it 
was resolved on. These were Thynn and North ^. 
This last was to be rewarded for his service during 
his shrievalry in London. Lord Rochester engaged 
both the duke and the lady Portsmouth to divert 
this, if it was possible. But the king was not to be 
shaken. So he resolved to quit the treasury. The 
earl of Radnor was discharged from being lord pre- 
sident of the council, where he had for some years 
acted a very mean part, in which he had lost the 
character of a steady, cynical Englishman, which 
he had maintained in the former course of his life. 
And lord Rochester was made lord president : which 
being a post superior in rank, but much inferior 
both in advantage and credit to that he held for- 
merly, drew a jest from lord Halifax that may be 
worth remembering : he said, he had heard of many 
kicked down stairs, but never of any that was 
kicked up stairs before. Godolphin was weary of 
the drudgery that lay on a secretary of state. He 
chose rather to be the first commissioner of the 
treasury. And he was made a baron. The earl of 
Middletoun, son to him that had governed Scotland, 
was made secretary of state, a man of a generous 
temper, but without much religion, well learned, of 
a good judgment, and a lively apprehension. 

' See before, page 531. ^ A brother of the keeper. O. 

s Lord keeper North. O. 


If foreign aifaii's could have awakened the king, i684. 
the French did enough this summer in order to it i. ThTbonT" 
Besides their possessing themselves of Luxembourg, ^^"J^ "' 
they sent a fleet against Genoa upon no sort of pro- 593 
vocation, but because Grenoa would not comply with 
some demands, that were both unjust and unreason- 
able : the king of France ordered it to be bombard- 
ed, hoping that in that confusion he might by land- 
ing a few men have made himself easily master of 
that state. This would very probably have suc- 
ceeded, if the attempt had been made upon the first 
consternation they were in, when the bombardment 
began. But the thing was delayed a day or two. 
And by that time the Genoese not only recovered 
themselves out of their first fright ; but putting them- 
selves in order, they were animated with that indig- 
nation and fury, that they beat off the French with a 
courage that was not expected from them. Such an 
assault, that looked liker the violence of a roblier, than 
the attack of one that would observe forms in his con- 
quests, ought to have provoked all princes, especially 
such as were powerful at sea, to have joined against 
a prince, who by these practices was become the com- 
mon enemy of mankind. But we were now pursu- 
ing other designs, from which it was resolved that 
nothing from ])eyond sea should divert us. 

After the king had kept Tangier about twenty T*n(jinr ». 
years, and had been at a vast charge in making a 
mole before it, in which several sets of undeitakers 
had failed indeed in the main designs, but had suc- 

' (The French took care, by tion to themselves. Their grants 

their intrigues and money, to to the king had been brought- 

prevent a union between the to light, but their gifts to the 

king^ and his parliaments, and parliamentary leaders were only 

of cour:i& any effectual opposi- suspected.) 

VOL. II. r f 


1 684. ceeded well in the enriching of themselves, and the 
work was now brought near perfection, which seem- 
ed to give us the key of the Mediterranean : he, to 
deliver himself from that charge, sent lord Dart- 
mouth with a fleet to destroy aU the works, and to 
bring home all our men. The king, when he com- 
municated this to the cabinet council, charged them 
to be secret. But it was believed, that he himself 
spoke of it to the lord Arlington, and that lord Ar- 
lington told it to the Portugal ambassador : for the 
ambassador took fire upon it ; and desired, that, if 
the king was weary of keeping it, he would restore 
it to his master : and he undertook to pay a great 
sum for the charge the king had been at, all these 
years that he had it. But the king believed, that 
as the money would never be paid, so the king of 
Portugal would not be able to maintain that place 
against the Moors : so that it would fall in their 
hands, and by that means prove too important to 
command the straits. The thing was boldly denied 
by the ministers, when pressed by the ambassador 
upon the subject. Lord Dartmouth executed the 
594 design as he was ordered : so an end was put to our 
possessing that place. This was done only to save 
chai'ge, that the court might hold out the longer 
without a parliament ^. So the repubUc of Genoa, 
seeing that we would not, and that without us the 
Dutch could not, undertake their protection, were 
forced to make a very abject compliment to the king 
of France ; if any thing could be abject, that was 
necessary to save their country. The doge and 
some of the senators were sent to Versailles to ask 

^ To make up this imperfect Tangier, see Temple's Memoirs, 
account of the affair relating to O. 


the king pardon, though it was not easy to tell for i684. 
what ; unless it was, because they presumed to re- 
sist his invasion. I happened to be at Paris when 
the doge was there. One saying of his was much 
repeated : when all the glory of Versailles was set 
open to him, and the flatterers of the court were 
admiring every thing, he seemed to look at them 
with the coldness that became a person who was at 
the head of a free commonwealth ' : and when he 
was asked, if the things he saw were not very ex- 
traordinary, he said, the most extraordinary thing 
that he saw was, that he saw himself there '". 

The affairs of Holland were much broken : the •^'''»'" ^- 

yond tea. 

prince of Orange and the town of Amsterdam were 
in very ill terms by the French management, to 
which Chudleigh, the English envoy, joined his 
strength, to such a degree of insolence, that he of- 
fered personal affronts to the prince ; who upon that 
would see him no more : yet the prince was not 
considered enough at our court to get Chudleigh to 
be recalled upon it. The town of Amsterdam went 
so far, that a motion was made of setting up the 
prince of Friezeland as their stadtholder : and he 
was invited to come to their town in order to it. 
But the prince of Orange prevented this, by coming 
to a full agreement with that town. So he and his 
princess were invited thither: and that misunder- 
standing was removed, or at least laid asleej) for 
that time. The war of Hungary went on with 
slow success on the emperor's side: he was poor, 

' Not a free conimouwealth. ever he goes out of the town ; 

O. but the king of France obliged 

"" By the laws of Genoa, the them to suspend that law upon 

doge ceases to be doge, when- this occasion. D. 

F f 2 


1684. and his revenue was exhausted, so that he could not 
press so hard upon the Turks, as he might have 
done with advantage ; for they were in great confu- 
sion. The king of Poland had married a French 
wife : and she had a great ascendant over him : and 
not being able to get her family raised in France, 
she had turned that king to the emperor's interests. 
So that he had the glory of raising the siege of Vi- 
enna. The French saw their error, and were now 
ready to purchase her at any rate : so that all the 
rest of that poor king's inglorious life, after that 
695 great action at Vienna, was a perpetual going back- 
wards and forwards between the interests of France 
and Vienna ; which depended entirely upon the se- 
cret negotiations of the court of France with his 
queen, as they came to her terms, or as they did 
iiot quite comply with them. 

The misunderstanding between the court of 
Rome and France went on still. The pope declared 
openly for the house of Austria against the Turk ; 
and made great returns of money into Germany. 
He engaged the Venetians into the aUiance. He 
found also fault with many of the proceedings in 
France, with relation to the regale. And now the 
tables were turned " : the Jesuits, who were wont 
to value themselves on their dependance on the 
court of Rome, were now wholly in the interests of 
France : for they resolved to be on the stronger 
side : and the Jansenists, whom Rome had treated 
very ill, and who were looked on as the most zeal- 
ous assertors of the liberties of the Galilean church, 
were now the men that admired the pope, and de- 

" Style of a gamester. S. 


clared for him. The persecution of the protestants i684. 
went on still in France : and no other care was liad 
of them here, but that we sheltered them, and so had 
great numbers of them coming over to us. A quar- 
rel was in debate between the English and -Dutch 
East India company. The Dutch had a mind to 
drive us out of Bantam ; for they did not love to see 
the English settle so near Batavia. So they engaged 
the old king of Bantam into a war with his son, 
who was in possession of Bantam : and the son was 
supported by the English. But the old king drove 
out his son by the help that the Dutch gave him : 
and he drove out the English likewise, as having 
espoused his son's rebellion against him ; though we 
understood it, that he had resigned the kingdom to 
his son, but that by the instigation of the Dutch he 
had now invaded him. It is certain, our court laid 
up this in their heart, as that upon which they 
would lay the foundation of a new war with the 
States, as soon as we should be in condition to un- 
dertake it. The East India company saw this, and 
that the court pressed them to make public remon- 
strances upon it, which gave a jealousy of an ill de- 
sign under it : so they resolved to proceed rather in 
a very slow negotiation, than in any thing that 
might give a handle to a nipture. 

I must now mix in somewhat with relation to my Th** h«rd- 

sliips Ui«t 

self, though that may seem too inconsiderable to be the author 
put into a series of mattei*s of such importance.™ 
But it is necessary to give some accoimt of that 
which set me at liberty to go round some parts of 596 
Europe, and to stay for some years out of England. 
I preached a lecture at St. Clement's on tlic Thurs- 
days : but after the lord Russel's death the king 



1684. sent an order to Dr. Hascard, then rector of the pa- 
rish, to discharge me from it. I continued at the 
Rolls, avoiding very cautiously every thing that re- 
lated to the public : for I abhoiTed the making the 
pulpit a stage for venting of passion, or for the serv- 
ing of interests. There was a parish in London 
vacant, where the election lay in the inhabitants : 
and it was probable it would have fallen on me; 
though London was in so divided a state, that every 
thing was managed by the strength of parties. Yet 
the king, apprehending the choice might have fallen 
on me, sent a message to theip, to let them know, 
he would take it amiss if they chose me. Old sir 
Harbotle Grimstone lived still, to the great indigna- 
tion of the court : when the fifth of November, be- 
ing gunpowder treason day, came, in which we had 
always sermons at the chapel of the Rolls, I begged 
the master of the roUs to excuse me then from 
preaching ; for that day led one to preach against 
popery, and it was indecent not to do it. He said, 
he would end his life as he had led it all along, in 
an open detestation of popery. So, since I saw this 
could not be avoided, though I had not meddled 
with any point of popery for above a year together, 
I resolved, since I did it so seldom, to do it to pur- 
pose. I chose for my text these words : Save me 
from the lion's mouth, thou hast heard me from the 
horns of the unicorns. I made no reflection in my 
thoughts on the lion and unicorn, as being the two 
supporters of the king's scutcheon : (for I ever 
hated aU points of that sort, as a profanation of 
Scriptures ° :) but I shewed how well popery might 

° I doubt that. S. 


be compared to the lion's mouth, then open to de- i684. 
vour us : and I compared our former deliverance 
from the extremities of danger to the being on the 
horn of a rhinoceros. And this leading me to the 
subject of the day, I mentioned that wish of king 
James the first against any of his posterity that 
should endeavour to bring that religion in among 
us P. This was immediately carried to the court. 
But it only raised more anger against me ; for no- 
thing could be made of it. They talked most of 
the choice of the text, as levelled against the king's 
coat of arms. That had never been once in my 
thoughts. Lord keeper North diverted the king 
from doing any thing on the account of my sermon. 
And so the matter slept till the end of the term. 
And then North writ to the master of the rolls, that 
the king considered the chapel of the rolls as one of 597 
his own chapels : and, since he looked on me as a 
person disaffected to his government, and had for 
that reason dismissed me from his own service, he 
therefore required him not to suffer me to serve any 
longer in that chapel. And thus all my service in 
the church was now stopped. For upon such a 

V Sir J. Jekyi told me, that tions of peace at Utrecht. He 
he was present at this sermon : set forth all the horrors of that 
I think it was this: and that religion with such force of 
when the author had preached speech and action, (for he had 
out the hour-glass, he took it much of that in his preaching 
up and held it aloft in his hand, at all times,) that I have never 
and then turned it up for an- seen an audience any where so 
other hour, upon which the au- much affected, as we all were 
dience (a very large one for the who were present at this dis- 
place) set up almost a shout course. He preached then, as 
for joy. I once heard him he generally did, without notes, 
preach at the Temple church. He was in his exterior too the 
on the subject of popery, it was finest figure I ever saw in a 
on the fast-day for the ncgotia- pulpit. O. ''> 

F f 4 


i684. pubUc declaration made against me, it was not fit 
for any clergyman to make use of my assistance any 
more. And by these means I was set at liberty by 
the procurement of my enemies. So that I did not 
abandon my post, either out of fear, or out of any 
giddiness to ramble about Europe. But, being now 
under such public marks of jealousy, and put out of 
a capacity of serving God and the church in the 
way of my function, it seemed a prudent and a de- 
cent thing for me to withdraw my self from that 
fury, which I saw was working so strongly, and in 
so many repeated instances, against me. 

These disgraces from the court were the occasion 
of my going out of England ; which both preserved 
me from what I had reason to apprehend, when the 
duke, by the change that happened soon after, might 
have had it in his power to make me feel all that 
displeasure, which had been growing upon him in a 
course of so many years against me ; and it also 
put me in a way to do the greatest services I was 
capable of, both to the interest of religion and of 
these nations. So that what was intended as a 
mischief to me proved my preservation. [So gra- 
cious has God been to me in a course of many pro- 
vidences, which seemed both to watch over me, and 
to order every thing relating to me, to be attended 
with so many favourable circumstances, that what 
was designed should be my ruin, did put me in a 
way, both to do and to come to things, that in no 
other part of my life I could ever have imagined or 
proposed to my self.] My employment at the Rolls 
would have fallen in course within a month, if the 
court had delayed the putting me from it in such 
an open manner ; for that worthy man, sir Harbotle 


Grimstone, died about Christmas. Nature sunk all i684. 
at once, he being then eighty-two: he died as he^ 
had lived, with great piety and resignation to the 
will of God. 

There were two famous trials in Michaelmas Tnais for 
term : three women came and deposed against Ros-Ro»weii&nd 
weU, a presbyterian preacher, treasonable words that "*'"*' 
he had delivered at a conventicle. They swore to 
two or three periods, in which they agreed so ex- 
actly together, that there was not the smallest va- 
riation in their depositions. Roswell, on the other 
hand, made a strong defence : he proved, that the 
witnesses were lewd and infamous persons. He 
proved, that he had always been a loyal man, even 
in Cromwell's days ; that he prayed constantly for 
the king in his family, and that in his sermons he 
often insisted on the obligations to loyalty. And 
as for that sermon, in which the witnesses swore he 
delivered those words, he shewed what his text was, 598 
which the witnesses could not remember, as they 
remembered nothing else in his sermon besides the 
words they had deposed. That text, and his ser- 
mon upon it, had no relation to any such matter. 
Several witnesses who heard the sermon, and some 
who writ it in short hand, declared, he said no such 
words, nor any thing to that purpose. He offered 
his own notes to prove this further : but no regard 
was had to them. The women could not prove by 
any circumstance that they were at his meeting ; or 
that any person saw them there on that day. The 
words they swore against him were so gross, that it 
was not to be imagined any man in his wits could 
express himself so, were he ever so wickedly set, 
before a mixed assembly. It was also urged, that it 


1684. was highly improbable, that three women could re- 
member so long a period upon one single hearing ; 
and that they should all remember it so exactly, as 
to agree in the same deposition. He offered to put 
the whole upon this issue: he would pronounce a 
period, as long as that which they had sworn, with 
his usual tone of voice with which he preached, and 
then leave it to them to repeat it, if they could. I 
set down all this defence more particularly, that it 
may appear what a spirit was in that time, when a 
verdict could be brought in upon such an evidence, 
and against such a defence. Jefferies urged the 
matter with his ordinary vehemence : he laid it for 
a foundation, that all preaching at conventicles was 
treasonable, and that this ought to dispose the jury 
to believe any evidence whatsoever upon that head, 
and that here were three positive concurring wit- 
nesses : so the jury brought him in guilty. And there 
was a shameful rejoicing upon this. It was thought, 
now conventicles would be aU suppressed by it : since 
any person that would witness that treasonable 
words were delivered at them would be believed, 
how improbable soever it might be. But when the 
importance of the words came to be examined, by 
men learned in the law, they were found not to be 
treason by any statute. So Roswell moved for an 
arrest of judgment, till counsel should be heard to 
that point, whether the words were treason, or not. 
In Sidney's case they refused to grant that, unless 
he would first confess the fact. And, though that 
was much censured, yet it was more doubtful, whe- 
ther counsel ought to be heard after the jury had 
brought in the verdict. But the king was so put 
out of countenance with the manv stories that were 


brought him of his witnesses, that the attorney ge- 1694. 

neral had orders to yield to the arrest of judgment ; 

though it had been more to the king's honour to 
have put an end to the business by a pardon 1. It 
was thought a good point gained, which might turn 
to the advantage of the subject, to allow that a point 
of law might be argued after conviction. The im- 
pudence of this verdict was the more shameful, 
since, though we had a popish successor in view, 
here was a precedent made, by which positive wit- 
nesses, swearing to any thing as said in a sermon, 
were to be believed against so many probabilities, 
and so much proof to the contrary; which might 
have been at another time very fatal to the clergy. 

The other trial was of more importance to the 
court. In Armstrong's pocket, when he was taken, 
a letter was found writ by Haies, a banker in Lon- 
don, directed to another name, which was believed a 
feigned one : in it credit was given him upon Haies's 
correspondent in Holland for money : he was de- 
sired not to be too lavish : and he was promised, 
that he should be supplied as he needed it. Here 
was an abetting of a man outlawed for treason. 
Much pains was taken on Haies, both by persuasion 
and threatening, to induce him to discover that 
whole cabal of men, that, it seemed, joined in a 
common purse to supply those who had fled beyond 
sea on the account of the plot. And they hoped to 
know all Monmouth's friends; and either to have 
attainted them, or at least to have fined them se- 
verely for it. But Haies shewed a fidelity and 
courage far beyond what could have l)een expected 

^ He was pardoned : see the Sute Trials, vol. iii. p. 1064. O. 


1684. from such a man : so he was brought to a trial. He 
made a strong defence. The letter was not exactly 
like his hand. It was not addressed to Armstrong, 
but to another person, from whom he perhaps liad 
it. No entry was made of it in his books, nor of 
any sum paid in upon it. But his main defence was, 
that a banker examined into no person's concerns ; 
and therefore, when money or good security was 
brought him, he gave bills of exchange, or letters of 
credit, as they were desired. Jefferies pressed the 
jury, in his impetuous way, to find Haies guilty of 
high treason ; because, though there was not a wit- 
ness against Haies, but only presumptions appeared 
upon the proof, yet, Jefferies said, it was proved by 
two witnesses that the letter was found in Arm- 
strong's pocket ; and that was sufficient, the rest ap~ 
pearing by circumstances. The little difference be- 
tween the writing in the letter and his ordinary hand, 
was said to be only a feint to hide it, which made 
him the more guilty. He required the jury to bring 
600 him in guilty : and said, that the king's life and 
safety depended upon this trial : so that if they did it 
not, they exposed the king to a new Rye-plot ; with 
other extravagancies, with which his fury prompted 
him. But a jury of merchants could not be wrought 
up to this pitch. So he was acquitted, which morti- 
fied the court a little : for they had reckoned, that 
now juries were to be only a point of form in a trial, 
and that they were always to find bills as they were 
strange ^ ^^^^ ^ ^ matter of blood came on after this. A 


andTeryun-orentleman of a noble family "^ being: at a public sup- 

becomiDg a *-' j o i l 

'°^' ^SirH.St. Johnof Battersea, Mr. Henry St. Johns, son to 

now lord viscount St. John. O. sir Walter St, Johns, of Batter- 


per with much company, some hot words passed be- i684. 
tween him and another gentleman, which raised a 
sudden quarrel, none but three persons being en- 
gaged in it. Swords were drawn, and one was 
killed outright: but it was not certain by whose 
hand he was killed : so the other two were l30th in- 
dicted upon it ^ The proof did not carry it beyond 
manslaughter, no marks of any precedent malice 
appearing. Yet the young gentleman was prevailed 
on to confess the indictment, and to let sentence 
pass on him for murder ; a pardon being promised 
him if he should do so, and he being threatened 
with the utmost rigour of the law if he stood upon 
his defence. After the sentence had passed, it ap- 
peared on what design he had been practised on. It 
was a rich family, and not well affected to the 
court: so he was told that he must pay well for 
his pardon : and it cost him 16,000/. of which the 
king had the one half, the other half being divided 
between two ladies that were in great favour. It is 
a very ill thing for princes to suffer themselves to be 
prevailed on by importunities to pardon blood, which 
cries for vengeance. Yet an easiness to importunity 
is a feebleness of good-nature, and so is in itself less 
criminal. But it is a monstrous perverting of jus- 
tice, and a destroying the chief end of government, 
which is the preservation of the people, when their 
blood is set to sale : and that not as a compensation 
to the family of the person murdered, but to the 

sea, and father to Henry St. act of parliament; whose title 

Johns, viscount Bolingbroke, of Bolingbroke had been en- 

secretar)' of state to queen Ann. tailed upon his father, is the 

He was created viscount St. first instance of a title granted 

Johns by king George the first, to ascend. O. 

upon his son's being attainted by ' The story is wrong told. S. 

1684. prince himself, and to some who are in favour with 

him upon unworthy accounts : and it was robbery if 
the gentleman was innocent. 

Another thing of a strange nature happened about 
this time. The earl of Clancarty in Ireland, when 
he died, had left his lady the guardian of his child- 
ren. It was one of the noblest and richest families 
of the Irish nation, which had always been papists. 
But the lady was a protestant. And she, being 
afraid to trust the education of her son to Ireland, 
though in protestant hands, considering the danger 
601 he might be in from his kindred of that religion, 
brought him over to Oxford, and put him in Fell's 
hands, who was both bishop of Oxford and dean of 
Christ church ; where she reckoned he would be 
safe. Lord Clancarty had an uncle, col. Maccarty, 
who was in most things, where his religion was not 
concerned, a man of honour. So he, both to pervert 
his nephew, and to make his own court, got the king 
to write to the bishop of Oxford to let the young 
lord come up, and see the diversions of the town in 
the Christmas time ; to which the bishop did too 
easily consent ". When he came to town, he, being 
then at the age of consent, was married to one of 
the lord Sunderland's daughters. And so he broke 
through all his education, and soon after turned 
papist. Thus the king suffered himself to be made 
an instrument in one of the greatest of crimes, the 
taking an infant out of the hand of a guardian, and 
marrying him secretly; against which the laws of 
all nations have taken care to provide very effec- 
tually. But this leads me into a further view of the 
designs at court. 

" (See note below, at p. 695.) 


The earl of Rochester grew weary of the insigni- i694. 
ficant place of president, which procured him nei-paput»en 
ther confidence nor dependance. And, since the go-freSd^" 
vemment of Ireland was the greatest post next to 
the treasury, he obtained by the duke's favour to be 
named lord lieutenant of Ireland. The king seemed 
to be so uneasy with him, that he was glad to send 
him away from the court. And the king intended 
to begin in his person a new method in the govern- 
ment of Ireland. Formerly the lords lieutenants were 
generals of the army, as well as the governors of the 
kingdom. Their interests in recommending to posts 
in the army, and the giving the commissions for 
them, brought the army into their dependance, and 
increased the profits of their secretaries. It was now 
suggested by lord Sunderland, that this was too 
much in one person : and therefore he proposed, that 
there should he a general of the army, independent 
on the lord lieutenant, and who should be a check 
upon him : when there were but a few troops kept 
up there, it might be more reasonable to leave them 
in the lord lieutenant's hands : but now that an army 
was kept, it seemed too much to put that, as well as 
the civil administration of the kingdom, into the 
power of one man. In this the earl of Sunderland's 
design was, to keep that kingdom in a dependance 
upon himself. And he told the king, that if lie 
thought that was a good maxim for the government 602 
of Ireland, he ought to begin it when a creature of 
his own was sent thither, who had not such a right 
to dispute points of that kind with him, as ancient 
noblemen might pretend to. Lord Rochester was 
much mortified with this. He said, the chief gover- 
nor of Ireland could not be answerable for the peace 


1684. of that kingdom, if the army was not in a depen- 
dance on him. Yet little regard was had to all that 
he could object to this new method; for the king 
seemed to be the more pleased with it, because it af- 
flicted him so much. The first instance, in which 
the king intended to begin the immediate depen- 
dance of the Irish army on himself, was not so well 
chosen, as to make it generally acceptable : for it 
was, that col. Maccarty was to have a regiment 
there. He had a regiment in the French service 
for several years, and was called home upon that ap- 
pearance that we had put on of engaging with- the 
allies in a war with France in the year 1678. The 
popish plot had kept the king from employing him 
for some years, in which the court was in some 
management with the nation. But now that being 
at an end, the king intended to employ him, upon 
this acceptable service he had done with relation to 
his nephew. The king spoke of it to lord Halifax : 
and he, as he told me, asked the king, if he thought 
that was to govern according to law. The king an- 
swered, he was not tied up by the laws of Ireland, 
as he was by the laws of England. Lord Halifax 
offered to argue that point with any person that as- 
serted it before him : he said, that army was raised 
by a protestant parliament, to secure the protestant 
interest : and would the king give occasion to any 
to say, that where his hands were not bound up, he 
would shew all the favour he could to the papists ? 
The king answered^ he did not trouble himself with 
what people said, or would say. Lord Halifax re- 
plied to this, that it was a just piece of greatness in 
the king not to mind what his enemies said ; but 
he hoped he would never despise what his friends 


said, especially when they seemed to have reason on i684. 
their side : and he wished the king would choose 
rather to make up Maccarty's losses for his service 
in pensions, and other favours, than in a way that 
would raise so much clamour and jealousy. In all 
this, lord Halifax only offered his advice to the king, 
upon the king's beginning the discourse with him. 
Yet the king told it all to Maccarty : who came and 
Expostulated the matter with that lord. So he saw 
by that how little safe a man was, who spoke freely 603 
to the king, when he crossed the king's own incli- 
nations, nittl.. 

There was a great expectation in the court of suspicion* 
France, that at this time the king would declare king *de- 
himself a papist. They did not keep the secret very jj*f "^^pj","; 
carefully there : for the archbishop of Rheims had 
said to my self, that the king was as much theirs as 
his brother was, only he had not so much conscience. 
This I reported to lord Halifax to tell the king. 
Whether he did it or not, I know not. But it was 
written over at this time from Paris, that the king 
of France had said at his levee, or at table, that a 
great thing would quickly break out in England 
with relation to religion. The occasion of that was 
afterwards better known. One of our East-India 'd 
ships had brought over one of the missionaries of 
Siam, who was a man of a warm imagination, and 
who talked of his having converted and baptized 
many thousands in that kingdom. He was well re- 
ceived at com-t : and the king diverted himself with 
healing him relate the adventures and other pas- 
sages of his travels. Upon this encouragement he 
desu'ed a private audience; in which, in a very in* 
flamed speech, and with great vehemence, he pressed 

VOL. II. G g 

1684. the king to return into the bosom of the church. 

The king entertained this civiQy, and gave him 
those answers, that he, not knowing the king's way, 
took them for such steps and indications, as made 
him conclude the thing was very near done : and 
upon that he writ to P. de la Chaise, that they 
would hear the news of the king's conversion very 
quickly. The confessor carried the news to the 
king ; who, not doubting it, gave the general hint of 
that great turn, of which he was then full of hopes. 
That priest was directed by some to apply himself 
to lord Halifax, to try if he could convert him. Lord 
Halifax told me, he was so vain and so weak a man, 
that none could be converted by him, but such as 
were weary of their religion, and wanted only a pre- 
tence to throw it off. Lord Halifax put many questions 
to him, to which he made such simple answers, as 
furnished that lord with many very lively sallies upon 
the conversions so much boasted of, as made by such 
men. Lord Halifax asked him, how it came, that, 
since the king of Siam was so favourable to their re- 
ligion, they had not converted him ? The missionary 
upon that told him, that the king had said, he would 
not examine into the truth of all that they had told 
604 him concerning Jesus Christ : he thought it was not 
reasonable to forsake the religion of his fathers, un- 
less he saw good grounds to justify the change : and, 
since they pretended that the author of their religion 
had left a power of working miracles with his fol- 
lowers, he desired they would apply that to himself: 
he had a palsy both in his arm and in his leg : and 
if they could deliver him from that, he promised to 
them he would change immediately. Upon which the 
missionary said, that the bishop, who was the head of 


that mission, was bold enough (assez hardly were the i684. 
priest's own words) to undertake it. A day was set for 
it. And the bishop, with his priest and some others, 
came to the king. And after some prayers, the king 
told them, he felt some heat and motion in his arm ; 
but the palsy was more rooted in his thigh : so he 
desired the bishop would go on, and finish that 
which was so happily begun. The bishop thought 
he had ventured enough, and would engage no ftir- 
ther ; but told the king, that since their God had 
made one step towards him, he must make the next 
to God, and at least meet him half way. But the 
king was obstinate, and would have the miracle 
finished, before he would change. On the other 
hand the bishop stood his ground. And so the mat- 
ter went no further. Upon which lord Halifax said, 
since the king was such an infidel, they ought to 
have prayed the palsy into his arm again, as well 
as they prayed it out : otherwise, here was a miracle 
lost on an obstinate infidel : and if the palsy had 
immediately returned into his arm, that would per- 
haps have given him a full conviction. This put the 
missionary into some confusion. And lord Halifax 
repeated it both to the king and to the duke with that 
air of contempt, that the duke was highly provoked 
by it : and the priest appeared at court no more. 

There was at this time a new scheme formed, that iqbs. 
very probably would have for ever broken the king '^^.^'^^ „f 
and the duke ". But how it was laid was so great a fonm. 
secret, that I could never penetrate into it. It was 
laid at lady Portsmouth's. Barrillon and lord Sun- 

* See Welwood's Memoirs, p. 144. (168.) O. 


1685. derland were the chief managers oiP it. Lord Godol- 
phin was also in it. The duke of Monmouth came 
m^er secretly. And though he did not see the king, 
yet he went back very well pleased with his journey. 
But he never told his reason to any that I know of. 
Mr. May of the privy purse told me, that he was 
told there was a design to break out, with which he 
himself would be well pleased ^ : and when it was 
ripe, he was to be called on to come and manage 
605 the king's temper, which no man understood better 
than he did ; for he had been bred about the king 
ever since he was a child : and by his post he was in 
the secret of all his amours ; but was contrary to his 
notions in every thing else, both with relation to po- 
pery, to France, and to arbitrary government. Yet 
he was so true to the king in that lewd confidence in 
which he employed him, that the king had charged 
him never to press him in any thing so as to provoke 
him. By this means he kept all this while much at 
a distance ; for he would not enter into any discourse 
with the king on matters of state, till the king be- 
gan with him. And he told me, he knew by the 
king's way things were not yet quite ripe, nor he 
thoroughly fixed on the design. That with which 
they were to begin was, the sending the duke to 
Scotland. And it was generally believed, that if the 

y The bishop told me this vol. i. p. 736. But that the 

.rv>,- with many more particulars. S. king would have consented to 

(It is stated, by the duke's own set his brother aside from the 

historian, that " lady Ports- succession, after his complete 

*' mouth began to enrtertain victory over the exclusionists 

*' some thoughts of sending his and opposers of his government, 

"highness back to Scotland, is not to be believed, if we 

•* and that, if the king had lived consider the king's conduct dur- 

" much longer, it is proba- ing those agitations, and the 

" ble she might have effected . present sentiments of the ma- 

" it." Life ^ King Janies It. fbrity of the nation.) 


two brothers should be once parted, they would i685; 
never meet again. The king spoke to the duke 
concerning his going to Scotland : and he answered, 
that there was no occasion for it : upon which the 
king replied, that either the duke must go, or that 
he himself would go thither. 

The king was observed to be more than ordina- 
rily pensive. And his fondness to lady Portsmouth 
increased, and broke out in very indecent instances. 
The giand prior of France, the duke of Vendome's 
brother, had made some applications to that lady, 
with which the king was highly offended. It was 
said, the king came in on a sudden, and saw that 
which provoked him : so he commanded him imme- 
diately to go out of England ^. Yet after that, the 
king caressed her in the view of all people, which 
he had never done on any occasion, or to any person 
formerly. The king was observed to be colder and 
more reserved to the duke than ordinary. But 
what was under aU this was still a deep secret. 
Lord Halifax was let into no part of it. He still 
went on against lord Rochester. He complained in 
council, that there were many razures in the books 
of the treasury, and that several leaves were cut out 
of those books : and he moved the king to go to the 
treasury chamber, that the books might be laid be- 
fore him, and that he might judge of the matter 
upon sight. So the king named the next Monday. 
And it was then expected, that the earl of Roches- 
ter would have been turned out of all, if not sent to 

« (Sir John Reresby in his Halifax and Rochester respect- 
Memoirs, p. 92 and 95, men- ing the misapplication of forty 
tions this intrigue, and in p. 86 thousand pounds of the hearth- 
2 gives an account of the fol- money, and other niismanage- 

k)wing dispute between lords uients of the revenue.) 


1685. the tower. And a message was sent to Mr. May, 

then at Windsor, to desire him to come to court 
606 that day, which it was expected would prove a cri- 
tical day. And it proved to be so indeed, though 
in a different way. 
The king's ^11 this wiutcr the king looked better than he 

sickness. *-' 

had done for many years. He had a humour in his 
leg, which looked like the beginning of the gout : 
so that for some weeks he could not walk, as he 
used to do generally three or four hours a day in 
the park ; which he did commonly so fast, that as it 
was really an exercise to himself, so it was a trouble 
to all about him to hold up with him. In the state 
the king was in, he not being able to walk, spent 
much of his time in his laboratory, and was running 
a process for the fixing of mercury. On the first of 
February, being a Sunday, he eat little all day, and 
came to lady Portsmouth at night, and called for a 
porringer of spoon meat. It was made too strong 
for his stomach. So he eat little of it : and he had 
an unquiet night. In the morning, one Dr. King, a 
physician, and a chymist, came, as he had been or- 
dered, to wait on him. All the king's discourse to 
him was so broken, that he could not understand 
what he meant. And the doctor concluded he was 
under some great disorder, either in his mind or in 
his body. The doctor amazed at this, went out, 
and meeting with lord Peterborough, he said, the 
king was in a strange humour, for he did not speak 
one word of sense. Lord Peterborough desired he 
would go in again to the bedchamber, which he did. 
And he was scarce come in, when the king, who 
seemed all the while to be in great confusion, fell 
down all of a sudden in a fit like an apoplexy : he 


looked black, and his eyes turned in his head. The i685. 

physician, who had been formerly an eminent sur- 

geon, said, it was impossible to save the king's life, 
if one minute was lost ; he would rather venture on 
the rigour of the law, than leave the king to perish. 
And so he let him blood. The king came out of 
that fit: and the physicians approved what Dr. 
King had done : upon which the privy council or- 
dered him a thousand pound, which yet was never 
paid him. Though the king came out of that fit, 
yet the effects of it hung still upon him, so that he 
was much oppressed. And the physicians did very 
much apprehend the return of another fit, and that 
it would carry him off: so they looked on him as a 
dead man. The bishop of London spoke a little to 
him, to dispose him to prepare for whatever might 
be before him ; to which the king answered not a 
word. But that was imputed partly to the bishop's 
cold way of speaking, and partly to the iU opinion 
they had of him at court, as too busy in opposition 607 
to popery. Sancroft made a very weighty exhorta- 
tion to him ; in which he used a good degree of free- 
dom, which he said was necessary, since he was go- 
ing to be judged by one who was no respecter of 
persons. To him the king made no answer neither ; 
nor yet to Ken, though the most in favour with him 
of all the bishops. Some imputed this to an insen- 
sibility ; of which too visible an instance appeared, 
since lady Portsmouth sat in the bed taking care of 
him as a wife of a husband \ Others guessed truer, 

» (This ill agrees with lady for the reconciliation of the dy- 

Portsmouth's words to the ing king to the Romish church ; 

French ambassador, when she " 1 cannot with decency (she 

pressed him to devise means *' says) enter the room, be- 




1685. that it would appear he was of another religion. 

On Thursday a second fit returned ; and then the 

physicians told the duke, that the king was not like 

to live a day to an end. 

Here- The duke immediately ordered Hudleston, the 

ceived the 

sacraments priest that had a great hand in saving the king at 
popish Worcester fight, (for which he was excepted out of 
all severe acts that were made against priests,) to be 
brought to the lodgings under the bedchamber. And 
when he was told what was to be done, he was in 
great confusion, for he had no hostie about liim. 
But he went to another priest, that lived in the 
court, who gave him the pix with an hostie in it. 
But that poor priest was so frighted, that he run 
out of Whitehall in such haste that he struck against 
a post, and seemed to be in a fit of madness with 
fear^. As soon as Hudleston had prepared every 
thing that was necessary, the duke whispered the 
king in the ear. Upon that the king ordered that 

" sides that the queen is al- *' him to he blooded, and then I 

*• most constantly there." See " went to fetch the duke of 

Barillon's letter to the king " York, and when we came to 

of France, in the Appendix to " the bed-side, we found the 

Dalrymple's Memoirs, vol. i, p. " queen there, and the imposter 

95. There exists also the tes- " says it was the duchess of 

limony of Bruce, earl of Ails- " Portsmouth." See also note 

bury, who was in attendance below, at p. 608. From king 

on the king at that time, op- James's account of his brother's 

posed to the correctness of this death, it appears that he spoke 

assertion of bishop Burnet, that most tenderly to the queen in 

lady Portsmouth was generally his last moments. See Life of 

with the king. It is in an ex- James the Second, vol. i. p, 

tract from the earl's letter to 749.) 

Mr. Leigh of Adlestrop, pub- ^ (Higgons, in his Remarks 

lished in the 27th volume of on this Hist. p. 280, relates 

the European Magazine, p. 22. that the host, which was given 

where his lordship says, " My to the king at this time, was 

** good king and master falling fetched from the chapel at So- 

" upon me in his fit, I ordered merset house.) 

v-rQp KiNQ CHARLES II, . 467 

all who were in the bedchamber should withdraw, i6W. 
except the earls of Bath and Feversham " : and the ^ 
door was double locked. The company was kept 
out half an hour : only lord Feversham opened the 
door once, and called for a glass of water. Cardinal 
Howard told me at Rome, that Hudleston, accord- 
ing to the relation that he sent thither, made the 
king go through some acts of contrition, and, after 
such a confession as he could then make, he gave 
him absolution and the other sacraments. The 
hostie stuck in his throat : and that was the occa- 
sion of calling for a glass of water. He also gave 
him extreme unction. All must have been per- 
formed very superficially, since it was so soon ended. 
But the king seemed to be at great ease upon it. 
It was given out, that the king said to Hudleston, 
that he had saved him twice, first his body, and now 
his soul ; and that he asked him, if he would have 
him declare himself to be of their churcli. But it 
seems he was prepared for this, and so diverted the 
king f\'om it ; and said, he took it upon him to sa- 
tisfy the world in that particular. But though by 
the principles of all religions whatsoever, he ought 
to have obliged him to make open protession of Iiis 608 
religion, yet, it seems, the consequences of that were 
apprehended; for without doubt that poor priest 
acted by the directions that were given him. The 
company was suffered to come in. And the king 

"= (" The king coramanded vol. ii. p. 39i.Macpbereon says» 

" all to retire out of the room, from a MS. in his possession, 

"telling them, that he had that the persons present besides 

■*♦ something to communicate the duke were the call of Bath, 

" to his brother." Aprice a and Trevannion a captain in 

Romish priest's letter, published the guards. HisU of Great 

in Harris's Life of Charles H. Briuin, vol. i. p. 421.) 


1685. went through the agonies of death with a calm and 
a constancy, that amazed all who were about him, 
and knew how he had lived. This made some con- 
clude, that he had made a will, and that his quiet 
was the effect of that. Ken applied himself much 
to the awaking the king's conscience. He spoke 
with a great elevation, both of thought and expres- 
sion, like a man inspired, as those who were present 
told me. He resumed the matter often, and pro- 
nounced many short ejaculations and prayers, which 
affected all that were present, except him that was 
the most concerned, who seemed to take no notice 
of him, and made no answers to him. He pressed 
the king six or seven times to receive the sacra- 
ment. But the king always declined it, saying he 
was very weak. A table with the elements upon it 
ready to be consecrated was brought into the room ; 
which occasioned a report to be then spread about, 
that he had received it. Ken pressed him to de- 
clare that he desired it, and that he died in the com- 
munion of the church of England. To that he an- 
swered nothing. Ken asked him if he desired abso- 
lution of his sins. It seems the king, if he then 
thought any thing at all, thought that would do him 
no hurt. So Ken pronounced it over him : for which 
he was blamed, since the king expressed no sense or 
sorrow for his past life, nor any purpose of amend- 
ment. It was thought to be a prostitution of the 
peace of the church, to give it to one, who, after a 
life led as the king's had been, seemed to harden 
himself against every thing that could be said to 
him ^. Ken was also censured for another piece of 

•* (The account given by king " day he grew so much worse, 
James is this : " On the fourth " that all those hopes vanished. 



indecency: he presented the duke of Richmond, 
lady Portsmouth's son, to be blessed by the king '. 
Upon this, some that were in the room cried out, 
the king was their common father. And upon that 
all kneeled down for his blessing, which he gave 
them. The king suffered much inwardly, and said, 
he was burnt up within ; of which he complained 
often, but with great decency. He said once, he 
hoped he should climb up to heaven's gates ; which 
was the only word savouring of religion that he was 
heard to speak ^ 

He gathered all his strength to speak his last 
words to the duke, to which every one hearkened 


and the doctors declared they 
absolutely despaired of his 
life, which made it high time 
■ to think of preparing for the 
' other world ; accordingly two 
' bishops came to do their 
function, who, reading the 
' prayers appointed in the com- 
mon prayer book on that oc- 
casion, when they came to 
the place where usually they 
exhort the sick person to 
' make a confession of his sins, 
the bishop of Bath and Wells, 
who was one of them, adver- 
tised him, it was not of obli- 
gation ; so after a short ex- 
hortation asked him if he 
was sorry for his sins ? which 
the king saying he was, the 
bishop pronounced absolu- 
tion ; and then asked him if 
he pleased to receive the sa- 
crament ? To which he made 
no reply; and being pressed 
by the bishop several times, 
gave no other answer than 
that it was time enough, or 
that he would think of it." 

He goes on to say, that 
Charles after this consented 
that a priest should be sent for. 
See the Life of King James II. 
vol. i. p. 746.) 

' (" When the duchess of 
" Portsmouth herself came into 
" the room, the bishop pre- 
" vailed with his majesty to 
" have her removed, and took 
" that occasion of representing 
" the injury and injustice done 
" to his queen so effectually, 
" that the king was induced to 
" send for her, and asking par- 
" don, had the satisfaction of 
" her forgiveness before he 
" died." Account of bishop 
Ken's Life by a relation, p. 13.) 

^ (From king James's ac- 
count before cited, it appears 
that he shewed great contrition 
" for the sins of his past life, 
" and particularly for hctving 
" differred his conversion so 
" lofig," before he received the 
sacrament from Huddlesfon's 
hands, after which the com- 
pany was called in.) 


i685. with great attention. He expressed his kindness to 
-him, and that he now delivei-ed all over to him with 
609gi'eat joy. He recommended lady Portsmouth over 
and over again to him. He said, he had always 
loved her, and he loved her now to the last ; and 
besought the duke, in as melting words as he could 
fetch out, to be very kind to her and to her son. 
He recommended his other children to him : and 
'Concluded, Let not poor Nelly starve ; that was Mrs. 
Gwyn. But he said nothing of the queen, nor any 
one word of his people, or of his servants : nor did 
he speak one word of religion, or concerning the 
jpayment of his debts, though he left behind him 
about 90,000 guineas, which he had gathered, either 
out of the privy purse, or out of the money which 
was sent him from France, or by other methods, and 
which he had kept so secretly, that no person what- 
soever knew any thing of it s. 
His death. He coutiuucd in the agony till Friday at eleven 
o'clock, being the sixth of February 168^^; and then 
died in the fifty-fourth year of his age, after he had 
reigned, if we reckon from his father's death, thirty- 
six years, and eight days ; or, if we reckon from his 
restoration, twenty-four years, eight months, and 
nine days. There were many very apparent suspi- 
cions of his being poisoned : for though the first ac- 
cess looked like an apoplexy, yet it was plain in the 
progress of it that it was no apoplexy. When his 
body was opened, the physicians who viewed it 
were, as it were, led by those who might suspect 
the ti-uth to look upon the parts that were certainly 

6 I heard Will. Chiifens, who Winchester, which he was very 
was his closet keeper, say that fond of at that time. D. 
it was kept tor his buildings at 

OF KING CHARLES II. """' 461* 

sound. But both Lower and Needham, two famous 1085. 
physicians, told me, they plainly discerned two or 
three blue spots on the outside of the stomach. 
Needham called twice to have it opened : but the 
surgeons seemed not to hear him. And when he 
moved it the second time, he, as he told me, heard' 
Lower say to one that stood next him, Needham 
will undo us, calling thus to have the stomach" 
opened, for he may see they will not do it. They 
were diverted to look to somewhat else : and when . 
they returned to look upon the stomach, it was car- 
ried away : so that it was never viewed. Le Fevre, 
a French physician, told me, he saw a blackness in • 
the shoulder : upon which he made an incision, and 
saw it was all mortified. Short, another physician, 
who was a papist, but after a form of his own, did 
very much suspect foul dealing ^ : and he had talked 
more freely of it, than any of the protestants dui-st 
do at that time. But he was not long after taken 
suddenly ill, upon a large draught of wormwood 
wine which he had drunk in the house of a popish 
patient, that lived near the tower, who had sent for 
him, of which he died. And, as he said to Lower, 
Millington, and some other physicians, he believed 
that he himself was poisoned for his having spoken 
so freely of the king's death'. The king's body 610 
was indecently neglected. Some parts of his in- 

'■''» One physician told me this cians did not only believe him 

'frionni Short himself. S. ' , poisoned, but thought himself 

' (This account i& cpnfirraed so too not long after, for having 

by Sheffield duke of Bucking- declared his opinion a little toor 

hamshire, in his Character of boldly. Duke of Buckingham's 

Charles II. where he observes. Works, vol. ii. p. 65. See also 

that -the most knowing and Weltvood's Memoirs, p. 145.) 
most deserving of all his physi- 


1685. wards, and some pieces of the fat, were left in the 
water in which they were washed : all which were 
so carelessly looked after, that the water being 
poured out at a scullery hole that went to a drain, 
in the mouth of which a grate lay, these were seen 
lying on the grate many days after. His funeral 
was very mean. He did not lie in state : no mourn- 
ings were given : and the expence of it was not 
equal to what an ordinary nobleman's funeral will 
rise to. Many upon this said, that he deserved bet- 
ter from his brother, than to be thus ungratefully 
treated in ceremonies that are public, and that make 
an impression on those who see them, and who will 
make severe observations and inferences upon such 
omissions. But since I have mentioned the suspi- 
cions of poison as the cause of his death, I must 
add, that I never heard any lay those suspicions on 
his brother. But his dying so critically, as it were 
in the minute in which he seemed to begin a turn 
of affairs, made it to be generally the more believed, 
and that the papists had done it, either by the 
means of some of lady Portsmouth's servants, or, as 
some fancied, by poisoned snuff; for so many of the 
small veins of the brain were burst, that the brain 
was in great disorder, and no judgment could be 
made concerning it. To this I shall add a very sur- 
prising story ^, that I had in November 1709, from 
Mr. Henly of Hampshire. He told me, that when 
the duchess of Portsmouth came over to England in 
the year 1699, he heard, that she had talked as if 
king Charles had been poisoned ; which he desiring 
to have from her own mouth, she gave him this ac- 

•^ N. B. This is added to the origiDal in a loose sheet. (Note 
by the original editors.) 



count of it. She was always pressing the king to 
make both himself and his people easy, and to come 
to a full agreement with his parliament: and he 
was come to a final resolution of sending away his 
brother, and of calling a parliament ; which was to 
be executed the next day after he fell into that fit 
of which he died. She was put upon the secret, and 
spoke of it to no person alive, but to her confessor : 
but the confessor, she believed, told it to some, who, 
seeing what was to follow, took that wicked course 
to prevent it. Having this from so worthy ' a per- 


' This worthy person was a 
professed atheist, a zealous re- 
publican, and a most obsequi- 
ous follower of the earl of Sun- 
derland in all his notions as 
well as vices. The character 
of the lady was well known, 
who might think it proper to 
publish something she thought 
would be agreeable in order to 
obtain the ends she came over 
for, which at that time was un- 
derstood not to be much for 
the advantage of the nation : 
therefore was soon despatched 
(sent away) by the procure- 
ment of her old friend the 
earl of Sunderland. D, I won- 
der Mr. Henly never told me 
this story. S. Father of the 
present (1759) lord keeper; 
he was a person of consider- 
able fashion and fortune, of 
great parts and genius, and 
lived much with the best men 
of that sort. He was deemed 
a man of honour, and very 6rm 
to his principles and party. 
Garth dedicated his famous 
poem called the Dispensary to 
hun, and it was he who moved 
in the house of commons for 

the address to the queen to 
promote Hoadly (now bishop 
of Winton) to some dignity in 
the church, on account of his 
writings in defence of liberty 
and the protestant religion. It 
was done at the time of the 
impeachment of Sacheverel. O. 
I have heard the late duke of 
Richmond say, that his grand- 
mother the duchess of Ports- 
mouth has said the same thing 
to him, but there seem (either 
seems or seemed ) no foundation 
for it. H. (Earl of Hardwicke.) 
(Mr. Fox, in his History of the 
reign of James the Second, has 
the following passage : "His 
" death was by many supposed 
" to have been the effect of 
" poison ; but although there 
" 18 reason to believe that this 
" suspicion was harboured by 
'• persons very near to him, 
" and among others by the 
" duchess of Portsmouth, it ap- 
" pears upon the whole to rest 
" upon very slender founda- 
" lions." p. 67. where this note 
is subjoined by lord Holland 
his nephew ; " Mr. Fox had 
" this report from the family 



1685. son, as I have, set it down without adding the least 
circumstance to it, I thought it too important not 
to be mentioned in this history. It discovers both 
the knavery of confessors, and the practices of pa- 
pists, so evidently, that there is no need of making 
any further reflections on it. . ' 

611 Thus lived and died king Charles the second. He 
was the gi'eatest instance in history of the various 
revolutions of which any one man seemed capable. 
He was bred up, the first twelve years of his Ufe, 
with the splendor that became the heir of so great 

His cha 

** of his mother, great-grand- 
*' daughter to the duchess of 
" Portsmouth." That a suspi- 
cion therefore was actually ex- 
pressed by this lady, is con- 
firmed by the testimony of Mr. 
Fox, and now by the earl of 
Hardwicke, in his note on the 
bishop's work ; and the con- 
trary notion of her not having 
done so by no means esta- 
blished by the extract from lord 
Lansdown's works, brought 
forward by Mr. Rose in the 
Appendix to his Observations 
on Mr. Fox's historical work, 
p. Iviii. " His lordship (bi- 
" shop Burnet) had it from 
" Mr. Henley, who had it from 
" the duchess of Portsmouth, 
" that king Charles the second 
" was poisoned. It was my 
" fortune to be residing in 
this history was 
Such a parti- 
too remarkable 
my curiosity : 
was then at 

" Paris when 
" published. 
" cular was 
" not to raise 
" the duchess 

" Paris : I employed a person 
*V who had the honour to be in- 
•♦, timate with her grace, to in- 

" quire from her own mouth 
" into the truth of this pas- 
" sage : her reply was this : 
" 'That she recollected no ac- 
" quaintance with Mr. Henley, 
" but she remembered well 
" doctor Burnet and his cha- 
"racter:'" viz. that the king 
and the duke, and the whole 
court, had no opinion of his 
veracity : where it is to be re- 
marked, that the duchess does 
not declare her own opinion on 
the subject in her answer to 
the inquiry. Besides, as it is 
well observed by seijeant Hey- 
wood, in his Vindication of 
Mr. Fox, Appendix, p. i. the 
temper of mind in which the 
duchess received this inquiry, 
naturally leads to a suspicion, 
that she was displeased at Mr. 
Henley for having betrayed her 
confidence, especially as it is 
probable, that she was satisfied 
in her own mind of the truth 
of the fact she had been repre- 
sented to ' have related. See 
also Harris's Life of Charles; 
II, vol. ii. p. 380.) ff 


a crown. After that he passed through eighteen i06s. 
years in great inequalities, unhappy in the war, in Huch*rmc- 
the loss of his father, and of the crown of England. ^'' 
Scotland did not only receive him, though upon 
terms hard of digestion, but made an attempt upon 
England for him, though a feeble one. He lost the 
battle of Worcester with too much indifference: and 
then he shewed more care of his person than be- 
came one who had so much at stake *". He wan- 
dered about England for ten weeks after that, hid- 
ing from place to place. But, under all the appre- 
hensions he had then upon him, he shewed a temper 
so careless, and so much turned to levity, that he 
was then diverting himself with little household 
sports, in as unconcerned a manner as if he had 
made no loss, and had been in no danger at all". He 
got at last out of England. But he had been obliged 
to so many, who had been faithful to him, and care- 
ful of him, that he seemed afterwards to resolve to 
make an equal return to them all: and finding it 

"" ("If he means too much more care of liis person than be- 

" care of his person in the ac- came him, is to be reconciled to 

" tion, the reflection is false, a thoughtless unconcerned ness 

•* and if in the flight, stupid. in the utmost danger, I am at 

" The behaviour of the young a loss to find out ; but there 

*• king, on this occasion, was are so many contradictions and 

" so distinguished, as to extort inconsistencies in this elaborate 

" the praise of an enemy not malicious character of king 

" over generous. He led on Charles the second, that whoever 

" his foot in person, and made reads it, will soon find there is 

" no small impression on Crom- more of a disappointed church- 

" well's firmest battalions. On man's revenge, than truth, in the 

" this occasion he had no less whole composition. That the 

" than two, if not three horses king had many faults and infir- 

" killed under him." Higgons's mities, is true, and who b wilh- 

Remarks on this Hiit. p. 285.) out? But that he had many 

" This might admit a more ^at |)erfections and good qua- 
favourable turn. S. ^Vhere does hties, is as true. D. 
this appear ? O. How shewing 

VOL. II. H h 


1685. not easy to reward them all as they deserved, he 
forgot them all alike. Most princes seem to have 
this pretty deep in them ; and to think that they 
ought never to remember past sei'vices, but that 
their acceptance of them is a full reward. He, of 
all in our age, exerted this piece of prerogative in 
the amplest manner : for he never seemed to charge 
his memory, or to trouble his thoughts, with the 
sense of any of the services that had been done him. 
While he was abroad at Paris, Colen, or Brussels, 
he never seemed to lay any thing to heart. He pur- 
sued all his diversions and irregular pleasures in a 
free career ; and seemed to be as serene under the 
loss of a crown, as the greatest philosopher could 
have been. Nor did he willingly hearken to any of 
those projects, with which he often complained that 
his chancellor j^ersecuted him. That in which he 
seemed most concerned was, to find money for sup- 
porting his expense. And it was often said, that, if 
Cromwell would have compounded the matter, and 
have given him a good round pension, that he might 
have been induced to resign his title to him. Dur- 
ing his exile, he delivered himself so entu'ely to his 
pleasures, that he became incapable of application. 
He spent little of his time in reading or study, and 
yet less in thinking. And, in the state his affairs 
were then in, he accustomed himself to say to every 
612 person, and upon all occasions, that which he thought 
would please most : so that words or promises went 
very easily from him. And he had so ill an opinion 
of mankind, that he thought the great art of living 
and governing was, to manage all things and all per- 
sons with a depth of craft and dissimulation. And 
in that few men in the world could put on the ap- 


pearances of sincerity better than he could : under i685. 
which so much artifice was usually hid, that in con- 
elusion he could deceive none, for all were become 
mistrustful of him. He had great vices, but scarce 
any virtues to correct them : he had in him some 
vices that were less hurtful, which corrected his 
more hurtful ones. He was during the active part 
of life given up to sloth and lewdness to such a de- 
gree, that he hated business, and could not bear the 
engaging in any thing that gave him much trouble, 
or put him under any constraint. And, though he 
desired to become absolute, and to overturn both our 
religion and our laws, yet he would neither run the 
risk, nor give himself the trouble, which so great a 
design required. He had an appearance of gentle- 
ness in his outward deportment : but he seemed to 
have no bowels nor tenderness in his nature: and in 
the end of his life he became cruel. He was apt to 
forgive all crimes, even blood itself: yet he never 
forgave any thing that was done against himself, 
after his first and general act of indemnity, which 
was to be reckoned as done rather uj)on maxims of 
state than inclinations of mercy. He delivered him- 
self up to a most enormous course of vice, without 
any sort of restraint, even from the consideration of 
the nearest relations": the most studied extrava- 
gancies that way seemed, to the very last, to be much 
delighted in and pursued by him. He had the art 
of making all people grow fond of him at first, by a 
softness in his whole way of conversation, as he was 
certainly the best bred man of the age. But when it 

<• Alluding to what was said Orleans, at Dover, p. 30 r. O. 
of some gailantries, when he (But see a note on that plare.) 
met his sister, the duchess of 

H h 2 


] 685. appeared how little could be built on his promise, they 
were cured of the fondness that he was apt to raise 
in them. When he saw young men of quality, who 
had something more than ordinary in them, he drew 
them about him, and set himself to corrupt them 
both in reUgion and morality ; in which he proved 
so unhappily successful, that he left England much 
changed at his death from what he had found it at 
his restoration. He loved to talk over all the stories 
of his life to every new man that came about him. 
His stay in Scotland, and the share he had in the 
war of Paris, in carrying messages from the one side 
to the other, were his common topics. He went 
over these in a very graceful manner ; but so often, 
613 and so copiously, that all those who had been long 
accustomed to them grew weary of them : and when 
he entered on those stories they usually withdrew : 
so that he often began them in a fuU audience, and 
before he had done, there were not above four or five 
left about him : which drew a severe jest from WU- 
mot, earl of Rochester. He said, he wondered to 
see a man have so good a memory as to repeat the 
same story without losing the least circumstance, 
and yet not remember that he had told it to the 
same persons the very day before. This made him 
fond of strangers ; for they hearkened to all his often 
repeated stories, and went away as in a rapture at 
such an uncommon condescension in a king. 

His person and temper, his vices as well as his 
fortunes, resemble the character that we have given 
us of Tiberius so much, that it were easy to draw 
the parallel between themP . Tiberius's banishment, 

p Malicious, and in many circumstances false. S. 


and his coming afterwards to reign, makes the com- i685. 

parison in that respect come pretty near. His hat- 

ing of business, and his love of pleasures ; his raising 
of favountes, and trusting them entirely ; and his 
pulling them down, and hating them excessively; 
his art of covering deep designs, particularly of re- 
venge, with an appearance of softness, brings them 
so near a likeness, that I did not wonder much to 
observe the resemblance of their face and person. 
At Rome I saw one of the last statues made for 
Tiberius, after he had lost his teeth. But, bating 
the alteration which that made, it was so like king 
Charles, that prince Borghese, and signior Dominico, 
to whom it belonged, did agree with me in thinking 
that it looked like a statue made for him ^. 

Few things ever went near his heart. The duke 
of Glocester's death seemed to touch him much. 
But those who knew him best thought it was, be- 
cause he had lost him by whom only he could have 
balanced the surviving brother, whom he hated, and 
yet embroiled all his affairs to preserve the succes- 
sion to him. 

His ill conduct in the first Dutch war, and those 
terrible calamities of the plague and fire of London, 
with that loss and reproach which he suffered by 

1 (Sheffield duke of Bucks, fectly justifiable in refusing to 
who was brought up in his Charles the praise of clemency 
court, says of the king, that he and forgiveness, yet he sup- 
was an illustrious exception to poses that the propriety of Bur- 
all the common rules of physi- net's comparison between him 
ognomy; for with a most sa- and Tiberius was never felt by 
turnine harsh sort of counte- any one but its author. Hist, of 
nance, he was both of a merry the early Part of the Reign of 
and merciful disposition. Works, James 11. p. 68, 69. See also 
vol. ii. p. 64. See also Wehvood's Hume, at the conclusion of his 
Memoirs, j). 149. And although Reign of Charles II.) 
Mr. Fox thinks the bishop per- 

H h3 


1685. the insult at Chatham, made all people conclude 
there was a curse upon his government. His throw- 
. ing the public hatred at that time upon lord Claren- 
don was both unjust and ungrateful. And when his 
people had brought him out of all his difficulties 
upon his entering into the triple alliance, his selling 
that to France, and his entering on the second 
Dutch war with as little colour as he had for the 
first; his beginning it with the attempt on the 
614 Dutch Smyrna fleet; the shutting up the exchequer ; 
and his declaration for toleration, which was a step 
for the introduction of popery ; make such a chain 
of black actions, flowing from blacker designs, that 
it amazed those who had known aU this, to see witb 
what impudent strains of flattery addresses were 
penned during his life, and yet more grossly after 
his death. His contributing so much to the raising 
the greatness of France, chiefly at sea, was such an 
error, that it could not flow from want of thought, 
or of true sense. Rouvigny told me, he desired that 
all the methods the French took in the increase and 
conduct of their naval force might be sent him. 
And, he said, he seemed to study them with con- 
cern and zeal. He shewed what errors they com- 
mitted, and how they ought to be coiTccted, as if 
he had been a viceroy to France, rather than a king 
that ought to have watched over and prevented the 
progress they made, as the greatest of all the mis- 
chiefs that could happen to him or to his people. 
They that judged the most favourably of this, 
thought it was done out of revenge to the Dutch, 
that, with the assistance of so great a fleet as 
France could join to his own, he might be able to 
destroy them. But others put a worse construction 


on it; and thought, that seeing he could not quite i665. 
master or deceive his subjects by his own strength 
and management, he was willing to help forward 
the greatness of the French at sea, that by their as- 
sistance he might more certainly subdue his own 
people; according to what was generally l)elieved 
to have fallen from lord Clifford, that, if the king 
must be in a dependance, it was better to pay it to 
a great and generous king, than to five hundred of 
his own insolent subjects. 

No part of his character looked wickeder, as well 
as meaner, than that he, all the while that he was 
professing to be of the church of £ngland, express- 
ing both zeal and affection to it, was yet secretly 
reconciled to the church of Rome : thus, mocking 
God and deceiving the world with so gross a preva- 
rication. And his not having the honesty or cou- 
rage to own it at the last : his not shewing any sign 
of the least remorse for his ill led life, or any ten- 
derness either for his subjects in general, or for the 
queen and his servants : and his recommending only 
his mistresses and their children to his brother's 
care, would have been a strange conclusion to any 
other's life, but was well enough suited to all the 
other parts of his. 

The two papers found in his strong box conced- 
ing religion, and afterwards published by his bro- 
ther, looked like study and reasoning. Tennison 
told me, he saw the original in Pepy's hand, to 
whom king James trusted them for some time. 
They were interlined in several places. And the 61 5 
interlinings seemed to be writ in a hand different 
from that in which the papers were writ. But he 
was not so well acquainted with the king's hand, as 



1695. to make any judgment in the matter, whether they 
were writ by him or not. All that knew him, when 
they read them, did without any sort of doubting 
conclude, that he never composed them : for he ne- 
ver read the Scriptures, nor laid things together, 
further than to turn them to a jest, or for some 
lively expression. These papers were probably writ 
either by lord Bristol, or by lord Aubigny, who 
knew the secret of his religion, and gave him those 
papers, as abstracts of some discourses they had 
with him on those heads, to keep him fixed to 
them. And it is very probable that they, appre- 
hending their danger if any such papers had been 
found about him writ in their hand, might prevail 
with him to copy them out himself, though his lazi- 
ness that way made it certainly no easy thing to 
bring him to give himself so much trouble. He 
had talked over a great part of them to my self: so 
that, as soon as I saw them, I remembered his ex- 
pressions, and perceived that he had made himself 
master of the argument, as far as those papers could 
carry him. But the publishing them shewed a 
want of judgment, or of regard to his memory, in 
those who did it: for the greatest kindness that 
could be shewn to his memory would have been, to 
let both his papers and himself be forgotten '. 

"■ (" The papers found by his " instance of some Roman ca- 

" brother in his strong box, " tholics by a lord Blessington, 

" and which that misguided " who, as an object of ridicule, 

" prince publistjed soon after, " had accCvSs to his person from 

" furnish no evidence of a " his being the author of a fool- 

" change in his faith. They *' ish play. He had produced 

" were not of his hand writing. " the papers frequently to some 

" They were known to have " of his courtiers, to excite 

" been delivered to him at the " laughter, by exposing with 



Which I should certainly have done, if I had not 
thought that the laying open of what I knew con- 
cerning him and his affairs might be of some use to 
posterity. And therefore, how ungrateful soever 
this labour has proved to my self, and how unac- 
ceptable soever it may be to some, who are either 
obliged to remember him gratefully, or by the en- 
gagement of parties and interests are under other 
Masses, yet I have gone through all that I knew re- 
lating to his life and reign with that regard to truth, 
and what I think may be instructive to mankind, 
which became an impartial writer of history, and 
one who believes that he must give an account to 
God of what he writes, as well as of what he says 
and does ^ 


*' poignant satire and wit the 
" absurd positions which they 
•' contained. The duke of York 
" was no stranger to this cir- 
" cumstance, yet he conveyed to 
•' the world the papers, as con- 
" tayiing the sentiments of the 
" king upon the subject of reli- 
" gion. He had certainly ex- 
" pressed frequently to the duke 
" his predilection for the Rom- 
" ish faith." Macpherson in his 

Hist, of Great Britain, vol. i. 
p. 422. citing MS. Anecdotes 
in his possession.) 

» He was cerUiinly a very bad 
prince, but not to the degree 
described in this character, 
which is poorly drawn, and 
mingled with malice very un- 
worthy an historian, and the 
style abominable, as in the 
whole history, and the obscn'a- 
tions trite and vulgar. S. 






Of the rest of king Charles IPs reign^ from the year 1673 
to the year 1685, in which he died. 

REAT Jealousies of the 
king 344 

Schomberg brought to com- 
mand the army 345 

The court was much divided 346 

A session of parliament ibid. 

The declaration was voted il- 
legal ibid. 

A bill for a new test 347 

The prudence of the dissenters 

Debates in the house of lords 

The variety of opinions in the 
king's council 349 

The French advise the king to 
yield to the parliament ibid. 

The king went into that sud- 
denly ibid. 

Clifford disgraced 350 

Osborn made lord treasurer ibid. 

A great supply was given 351 

The duke laid down all his 

commissions 352 

The duke treats for a second 

marriage ibid. 

A treaty opened at Cologn 353 

Lord Su nderland's character 354 

The treaty broke off ibid. 

The affairs of Scotland ibid. 

Lauderdale's design 355 

The king liked my memoirs 356 

And shewed me great favour 


My conversation with the duke 

I carried Dr. i>tilling6eet to 
him 3,1; 8 

The duke's marriage opposed 
by the commons 360 

A parliament in Scotland 363 
A party formed against Lauder- 
dale 363 
He offers to redress grievances 
in council 364 

" {The pages referred to are those of tlie folio edition, which are 
inserted in the margin of the present.) 




A dispute raised about the lords 
of the articles 364 

The proceedings in the parlia- 
ment of England ibid. 

Finch's character 365 

A peace concluded with the 
States 366 

The king became the mediator 
of the peace 367 

The duchess's character 368 

Coleman's character ibid. 

The affairs of Scotland 369 

The parliament was prorogued 

Dalrimple's character ibid. 

The clergy was much provoked 

A great distraction in Scotland 

Lauderdale's proceedings there 

I was disgraced ibid. 

The ministers turn to the 
church party 373 

Correspondence with Holland 
discovered 374 

Jealousies of the prince of O- 
range 375 

Drummond was ordered to pri- 
son ibid. 

The battle of Seneff 376 

Arlington went to Holland 377 

Temple sent ambassador to 
Holland ibid. 


Affairs in England 378 

I was examined by the house of 
commons 379 

Sir Harbottle Grimstone's cha- 
racter 380 

Danby attacked, but in vain 

Seimour's character ibid. 

Debates concerning a test 383 
A dispute about appeals and 
privileges 385 

The session broke upon it ibid. 
A session of parliament 386 

The characters of some parlia- 
ment men 387 

A long interval between the 
sessions of parliament 389 

An account of some passages of 
Lockhart's courage in France 

Management in France 391 
The character of some bishops 

The projects of the papists 393 
Coleman's intrigues 394 

A conference between Coleman 

and some divines 395 

I undertook to write the history 

of our reformation 396 

The earl of Essex's character ibid. 
His employment in Denmark 


And his government of Ireland 


The affairs of Scotland 399 

A question raised in England 
about the legality of a pro- 
rogation 401 
The lords that moved it sent to 
the tower 402 
Proceedings in parliament 403 
Affairs in Flanders ibid. 
The French king declined a 
battle when offered by the 
prince of Orange 404 
Cambray and St. Omer taken 
The house of commons pressed 
the king to engage in the 
war ibid. 
Danby declared against France 
The prince of Orange came into 
England 408 
He married the duke's daugh- 
ter 410 
Supplies given towards the war 
The French take Ghent ibid. 



The af&irs of Scotland 41a 
Mitchell's trial 413 

And condemnation 415 

The administration there grew 

very violent and illegal 417 
An army of Highlanders sent to 

the west upon free quarter 4 1 8 
Many of the nobility came up 

to complain to the king 419 
But the king would not see 

them ibid. 

A convention of estates gives 

money, and justifies the ad- 
ministration 42 1 
Affairs it) England ibid. 
The house of commons grew 

jealous of the court ibid. 
Affairs abroad 422 

The popish plot 424 

Oates's character ibid. 

His discover)' 426 

Coleman and his pajjers seized 
Coleman's letters confirm it 427 
Godfrey is murdered 428 

His body was found 429 

Oates made a new discovery 430 
Bedlow's evidence 43 1 

Other proofs that seemed to 

support the discovery 432 
Carstairs's practices 433 

Staley's trial ibid. 

The queen was charged as in 

the plot 435 

A law passed for the test to be 

taken by both houses ibid. 
With a proviso for the duke 436 
Coleman's trial ibid. 

And execution 437 

The king's thoughts of this 

whole matter ibid. 

Danby's letters to Mountague 

are brought out 439 

And he was impeached of high 

treason 44 ( 

The parliament was prorogued 


■The trial of F. Ireland and 

some others 443 

Dugdale's evidence 444 

Prance discovers Godfrey's mur- 



Some condemned for it, who 
died denying it 446 

Scroggs was then lord chief 
justice 448 

Jennison's evidence ibid. 

Practices with the witnesses 
discovered 449 

Reflections upon the whole evi- 
dence 45 1 

A new parliament ibid. 

The duke sent beyond sea 452 

Danby pardoned by the king, 
but prosecuted by the house 
of commons 453 

A new council 454 

Debates concerning the exclu- 
sion 455 

Argimients used for and against 
the exclusion 457 

Danby's prosecution 460 

A great heat raised against the 
clergy 461 

The occasions that fomented 
that heat ibid. 

Arguments for and against the 
bishops voting in the pre- 
liminaries, in trials of trea- 
son 462 

Stillingfleet wrote on this point 

The trial of five Jesuits 464 
Langhom's trial 465 

And death 466 

Wakeman's trial 467 

He was acquitted 468 

Debates about dissolving the 
]>arliament ibid. 

The affairs of Scotland 469 
The archbishop of St. Andrew's 
is murdered 470 

A rebellion in Scotland 47 1 
Monmouth sent down to sup- 
press it 47* 
They were soon broken 473 
The king taken ill, and the 



duke comes to court 474 
The many false stories spread 

to raise jealousy ibid. 

A pretended plot discovered, 

called the meal-tub plot 475 
Great jealousies of the king 476 
Monmouth's disgrace 477 

Petitions for a parliament ibid. 
Great discontents on all sides 


Godolphin's character ibid. 

An alliance projected against 
France 479 

The election of the sheriffs of 
London ibid. 

Tlie bill of exclusion taken up 
again 48 1 

Passed by the commons 482 

But rejected by the lords ibid. 

The house of commons pro- 
ceeded against some with se- 
verity 484 

An association proposed 485 

Expedients offered in the house 
of lords 486 

Duchess of Portsmouth's con- 
duct in this matter little un- 
derstood ibid. 

Stafford's trial 488 

He was condemned 492 

He sent for me, and employed 
me to do him service ibid. 

His execution 494 


Motions in favour of the non- 
conformists ibid. 

The parliament was dissolved 

A new expedient of a prince re- 
gent 496 
Fitzharris was taken 497 
The parliament of Oxford was 
soon dissolved 498 
A great change in affairs 499 
The king's declaration 500 
Addresses to the king from all 
parts of England ibid. 
Fitzharris's trial 501 

Plimket, an Irish bishop, con- 
demned and executed 502 
Practices on Fitzharris at his 
death 504 

A protestant plot ibid. 

Colledge condemned, and died 
upon it 505 

Shaftsbury sent to the tower 506 
Practices upon witnesses ibid. 
I was then offered preferment5 07 
Halifax carried me totheking5o8 
Shaftsbury was acquitted by the 
grand jury ibid. 

Turbervill's death 509 

The affairs of Scotland 510 
A parliament in Scotland 512 
Several accusations of perjury 
stifled by the duke 514 

A test enacted in parliament 515 
Objections made to the test 518 
Many turned out for not taking 
it 519 

Argile's explanation ibid. 

He was committed upon it 520 
Argile is tried and condemned 

He made his escape 522 

The duke comes to court 523 
A new ministry in Scotland ibid. 
They proceeded with great se- 
verity " 524 
Affairs in England 527 
All charters of towns were sur- 
rendered to the king ibid. 
The dispute concerning the sh6- 
riffs of London 528 
Carried by the court 530 
Changes in the ministry, and 
quarrels among them 531 
The arguments for and against 
the charter of London 533 
Judgment given in the matter 

Some other severe judgments 

All people possessed with great 
fears 536 



Monmouth and Russel at Shep- 
herd's 537 

Monmouth and some others 
meet often together 538 

They treat with some of the 
Scotish nation 539 

Other conspirators meet at the 
same time on designs of as- 
sassinating the king 542 

A plot is discovered 544 

A forged story laid by Rumsey 
and West ibid. 

Russel and sortie others were 
put in prison upon it 547 

Monmouth and others escaped 

Howard's confession 55 1 

The earl of Essex was sent to 
the tower 552 

The lord Russel's trial 553 
He was condemned 556 

His preparation for death 557 
The trial and execution of Wal- 
cot and others 558 

Russel's execution 560 

Russel's last speech 561 

Prince George of Denmark 
married the princess Anne 562 
The siege of Vienna 563 

The author went to the court 
of France 564 

Characters of some he knew 
there ibid. 

Affairs in England 567 

Jefferies and other judges pre- 
ferred ibid. 
The calling a parliament pro- 
posed, but rejected 568 
Suspicions of Essex's being 
murdered 569 
Sidney's trial 570 

His execution and last paper 573 
Monmouth came in, and was 
pardoned ibid. 

But soon after d'sgraced 575 
Hambden's trial 576 

Halloway's execution ibid. 

Armstrong's death 577 

Great severity in Scotland 580 
A breach in the ministry there 

The duke governed all affairs 582 
The cruelty of the duke, and of 
his ministers, in torturing 583 
Proceedings against Baillie 585 
And his execution 587 

Leigh toun's death 588 

The promotion of some bishops 

Danby and the popish lords 
bailed 591 

Some removes made at court 59a 
The bombarding of Genoa ibid. 
Tangier abandoned 593 

Affairs beyond sea 594 

The hardships the author met 
with 59s 

Trials for treason of Roswell 
and Haies 597 

Strange practices, and very un- 
becoming a king 600 
Papists employed in Ireland 601 
Suspicions of the king's declar- 
ing himself a papist 603 
A new scheme of government 
The king's sickness 606 
He received the sacraments 
frorn a popish priest 607 
His death 609 
His character 61 1