No More Learning

— Here's a plain Evidence of their Intentions, and a Confirmation of what Bedlow, Oates, and
they had him
Prance sware of Sir E's being dog'd so long before. —All that's answered to't —That there was a Suit of Law depending between this Spence and Mr. Broadstreet — and therefore forsooth, he must forswear himself, and wilfully damn his Soul only for a circumstantial Evidence and Reflection on Hill himself Three
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or Four Years after he was hang'd, and so on his Master, Dr. Godden, and thence again on Mrs. Broadstreet ; and all this when it had no Influence at all on the Suit of Law, or them who sued him. — But enough of this. — Let's now take Notice of the next. —'Tis one John Okeley, who that very night, Octob. 12. going by Somerset- House, at the Water-Gate, about Nine a Clock, saw there Sir E. B. G. whom he knew very well, living in the same Lane with him —he past close by him, pulled off his Hat to him, as Sir E. B. G. did to him again ;—when past him, he turned about, and looked on him. —And this he told to several Persons, which witness the same. To this, the main of what Sir R. objects —'Twas dark, and how should he know
him Certainly, any one that knows London, cannot be igno rant that we have Lights in the Streets at Nine at Night And 'twas morally impossible, that one who knew him so welL who looked upon him, who put off his Hat to him, as he to him again, and who after all this look'd back upon him—that such a one should be mistaken in the Person.
The last Thing to be proved —That Sir E. B. G. did not, and could not murder himself in that Place, as is pretended by his Enemies. He was first missing on Saturday, and therefore according to their Account, his Body must have been in the Place where 'twas found till that Thursday Night. But had been there on Tuesday or Wednesday, the Pack of Hounds which hunted there, both of those Days, must have found him. Sir Roger tells us,—They might have been on the other side of the Ditch, or beat the Place carelessly without finding it. But Mr. Faucet's Deposition — That he beat that very Place —
which sure he was capable of knowing, having been himself there to see after the body was found. He repeats and. says Twice, —'Twas in that very Place, And Harwood says as much, who hunted the Day after. —One Circumstance there is, which makes this Evidence yet more conclusive. 'Twas deposed in the Trial of Farewell, and several other Places, that the Body stunk extreamly when 'twas found, which was but the next Day after. Now Id ask any unprejudic'd Man, Whether 'twas so much as possible that this very Place should be beat Two Days after one another, and the Hounds not scent the Body, even
tho' the Hunters might perhaps oversee
it ?
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But besides this, there was yet a narrower Search made on another Occasion in that same Field. The Story is told in a Paper, calPd, An Account of the Murther, published by Thompson himself, who, with G. Larkin, another Printer, was present, and avouch'd the Matter of Fact on their own Knowledge. 'Tis this,- — That while the Body lay at the White-House, and the Jury were about one of the Jurymen themselves declared, —
That a Servant ofhis Mother, a Butcher, and two Boys, made a very strict and narrow Search in all Tarts of the Groundfor a Calf that was lost there, and this both on Monday and Tues day — and at that Time there lay no dead Body, Belt, Gloves, or any thing else there. — But were all these too on the wrong Side of the Hedge Or where did they look for this Calf, in the middle of the Field, or in the Ditches and Hedges, where 'twas impossible they could have mist of the Body, had been there
There's one great Objection which Sir Roger makes very much of in this matter—tho' not quite so strong now, as 'twas some, Years since and that —There was no Popish Plot at all, therefore no Popish Murther, —which he expresses in his own peculiar Merry-Andrew Way — They hang both upon the same String, and whoever overthrows the one, trips up the Heels of the other. Nor indeed he singular in his Opinion, as to a great Part of —for my Lord Chief Justice Pemberton says, on the Trial of Farewell, think, 'twas, —If they could have made out that he had killed himself, all of them would have
cried out, the Popish Plot was a Sham raised the Protestants against the Papist, and all the Plot must have gonefor nothing. — But now to retort the Objection — If there was a Popish Plot, 'tis a terrible Argument that there was too a Popish Murther. - But that there was one, we must be forced to believe, till we find these Things, among many others, answered.
1. Coleman's Letters — and that Expression — The Extirpation of this Northern Heresie.
2. The Letter produced in Harcourt's Trial, wherein the very Consult of April 24 mention'd, —and A Design then on Foot among 'em, which they were to manage with all imaginable Secrecy.
3. The positive Oaths of so many Men. Some of 'em of a
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fair Character and blameless Conversation ; others no more able to invent such a Plot, than their Enemies to disprove it.
4. The Endeavours of the Papists to assassinate, disgrace, buy off, or any Way divert the Evidence against 'em ; which they were not such Fools to do for nothing.
5. The Behavior of the Witnesses ever since. One of 'em testifying at his Death, after the Sacrament : Another by his Life, their Malice reaching to his Barbarous Murther. A third with his Blood, and so much as wou'd have perhaps cost any two or three other Men their Lives, to the Truth of their Depositions.
And lastly, What Transactions we have felt and seen since King James came to his Throne, till his Departure, are no great evidence that all that Plot was a Forgery.
From these Things 'tis plain there was a Popish Plot : From these, and what went before, that this was a Popish Murther.
There needs no Exaggeration of the Fact, nor Tragical Ex clamations. 'Twas as foul as Hell could make and perhaps we have not yet seen the full Revenge that Heaven intends for those who were concerned in tho' 'tis after so long a Time miraculously begun, and will in due Time be accomplished.
Two Anagrams there were made on this Brave Gentleman, which, for the peculiar Luckiness of 'em, may not be ungrate
ful to the Reader, to have 'em inserted.
SIR EDMUND-BURY GODFREY. A nag.
FIND MURDER'D BY ROGUES. Another.
BY ROME'S RUDE FINGER DIE!
Having thus vindicated the Memory of this great Person, without any mean Expectation, either of Applause or Reward, who was the First Martyr for our Holy Protestant Religion we shall address what has been written on this Subject, not only to Posterity, as Sir Roger very wisely does, where he shall never
;
I
it
it ;
it,
Eternal Shame, shall this Inscription wear,
" The Devil's an Ass, for Jesuits on this Spot
arnolti.
17
hear his Fault, but to all the sober, unprejudic'd Men of the present Age, and so dismiss and go on to the Rest for whom he only made Way, after we have presented you with one of the last Pieces of Wit the Age has yielded on Sir Edmond's Death. "Tis Part of that ingenious Poem call'd Bacchanalia, or The Drunken Club.
Well, Primrose! May our Godfrey's Name on thee Like Hyacinth inscribed be
On thee his Memory flourish still,
Sweet as thy Flower, and lasting as thy Hill. Whilst blushing Somerset, to her
" Broke both the Neck of Godfrey, and the Plot.
MR. ARNOLD.
UT though the Providence of God was pleas'd, no doubt for wise Reasons, to suffer this last worthy Person to fall a Victim to the Malice and Cruelty of our Popish Enemies tho' there was perhaps a
sad Necessity —that this One Man shou'd die, to alarm a stupid Nation, and rouze 'em from that careless believing Temper which since that has gone] so far towards their Ruin and tho' 'twas to cost England more and nobler Blood, before its entire Deliverance yet the Government of the World
not so absolutely given up to the Disposal of him who called the Prince of as that in every Attempt, Villany should be
Sort of
and Vertue miserable. However kindly 'twas meant, the Stroak here was not home enough, and Mr. Arnold proved only a Confessor, tho' they intended him a Martyr. One would have thought their ill_Success in taking off one Justice of Peace, should have cooled [their Fury a little and hinder'd 'em from venturing upon another. — But this 'tis when Men list themselves of Religion where they must be given up
triumphant,
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to Salleys and Transports of a blind Zeal and refuse the Conduct either of their Senses or Reason.
Mr. Arnold had been a vigorous Prosecutor of the Priests and Jesuits which sculkt about in his own Country of Wales. This was a Crime not to forgiven, nor any ways altoned for, by less than his Destruction. In Order to which he was assaulted by several Villains, fit for such a Business, in a little dark Lane near the Temple, as he was passing through it pretty late in the Evening ; and had no doubt dispatched him ; and either found some Way to make the World believe he had done it himself, as they would have done in the former Instance, or started some other Sham to have remov'd the Odium from their own Party. But the Gentleman, having had Apprehension of some such Accident, made better Use of it than Sir Edmond before him ; and having luckily a Suit of private Armour on, received several Stabs the Villains gave him, upon that, and so saved his Life. But they finding their Attempts that Way unsuccessful, were
resolved to take another Course with him, and having got him down, with some desperate Weapon or other fit for the Purpose, made several Trials to cut his Throat, and gave him some dangerous Wounds about that Part ; which while he was strugling with them to preserve, a Boy providentially goes by with a Light, which their Deeds of Darkness not being able to endure, they all ran away, and left Mr. Arnold weltering in his Blood, who yet, by God's Providence, recovered again, and lived to see Justice done to one of the Villains that used him in that barbarous manner : His Name was Giles, and was discovered by a Wound in his Leg, which one of his Accomplices ran through in the Scuffle, as he was making a Stab at Mr. Arnold. He was tried for the Action, found guilty of and sentenced
to stand in the Pillory for the same, which was accordingly executed, with a liberal Contribution over and above from the enraged Rabble, who sufficiently made up for the Gentleness of his Sentence, though as severe one as our mild Laws could inflict upon such Offenders.
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MR. COLLEDGE.
O Body can doubt but that 'twas now very much the Interest of the Papists to get off, if possible, that foul Imputation of a Plot which stuck so deep upon 'em ; which had been confirmed by Sir
Edmond's Murther, Coleman's never to be forgotten Letters, Arnold's Assassination, and a great deal of Collateral Evidence, which fell in unexpectedly, many of those who gave it being utterly unacquainted with the first Discoverers. After several unfortunate Attempts they had made to this Purpose ; after the Living had perjured themselves, and the Dying done worse, to support their desperate Cause ; after Attempts to blast and mine some of the Evidence, and buy off others of 'em, in both which, publick Justice took Notice of, and punish'd 'em : Being of a Religion that sticks at no Villany to serve an Interest, and certainly the most indefatigable and firm People in the World, when they set about any Design, especially where Diana is concerned, not being yet discouraged, they resolved to venture upon one Project more, which proved but too successful, to the
Loss of the Bravest and Best Blood in the Kingdom ; and that was to brand all those who were the steddiest Patriots, and so their greatest Enemies, of what Rank soever they were, with the odious Character ofPersons disaffected to the Government, or, in the old Language, Enemies to Cassar: They pretended to persuade the World, that after all this great Noise of a Popish Plot, 'twas only a Presbyterian one lay at the Bottom : This they had endeavoured in the Meal-Tub Intrigue, the Names of most of the worthy Persons in England being cull'd out to be sworn into it: But this miscarrying (like the Mother on'tr Mrs. Celliers Miscarriage in Newgate) they had by this time taken Breath, formed new Designs, and procured, new Witnesses, which might do Business more effectually, and, tho' they could not write nor spell their Names, and so were not very well skilled in Book-learning, yet at Buke blawing they were admirable ; by which character you may easily guess they were Irishmen. Nor did they want Fools to believe, any more than Knaves to manage this Design ; by their continued unwearied C2
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contrivances a great many easie, and some well-meaning People having by this Time been wrought upon to believe almost as implicitly as they themselves, whatever the Priests would have 'em. One Thing, whatever happened, they were pretty sure of, That whether this Plot were believed or no, they should carry on their Intrigue by it: If 'twas, they had what they wished: If it should be discovered, 'twould yet confound and amuse Peoples Minds, and make 'em so sick of Plot upon Plot, that it might make 'em almost stagger in their Belief of the other. They had besides all this, a strong Party at Court to favour their Enter-
prizes. The King was the Duke's, and the Duke—all the World know whose. 'Twas necessary to flesh their Blood-hounds by Degrees, to bring People on by little and little, to attempt some of inferior Rank for a Beginning, and not split the Cause for want of good Management. And who so fit as poor Colledge to be the First Victim of their Perjury and Malice ? By whose Death, besides being rid of a troublesome Fellow, and breaking the Ice to make Room for those to follow ; they might also expect this advantage, That the middle sort of People would be discouraged in their just Hatred of Popery and Papists, and Prosecution of the Laws against them.
'Twas by such Methods as these that Mr. Colledge did signalize himself in the World. Being a Man of Courage, Industry, and Sharpness, he made it much of his Business to serve his Country as far as possible, in searching after Priests and Jesuits, and hunting those Vermin out of their lurking Holes, in which he was very serviceable and successful ; and for which, no doubt, they did not fail to remember him. The first Time we meet with him in public, think, in Stafford's Trial, where he's brought in for Mr. Dugdale, as a Collateral Evidence. But by that Time the Wind was a little upon turning, and the Tide
of popular Aversion not being so strong against Popery, being by the Cunning of our common Enemy diverted into little Streams, and private Factions and Arbitrary Power driving on, as the best Way to prosecute the Designs of Rome; to which the City of London in a particular manner made a vigorous Re sistance; which displeasing the grand Agitators, no Wonder they endeavoured, as much as possible, to do a Mischief; their Kindness to having been sufficiently experienced in 66.
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and even since. In Order to which the King was pleased, by the Advice of his Ghostly Brother, to alter the common and almost constant Course of Parliaments, and call one at Oxford instead of London. Many of the Members whereof, and es pecially those of London were apprehensive of some Design up
on 'em there, having formerly in the Gun-powder Treason, and ever since, sufficiently found the Love of the Papists to Protes tant Parliaments, and knowing very well what they were to expect from their Kindness, if they should be attempted upon by 'em, and found defenceless. And more Ground of Suspicion they had, because, as Colledge protests in his Speech, there had
been Affidavits judiciously made of a formed Design against 'em, being besides removed away from the City of London, which had always so much of the English Blood in as heartily to love Parliaments, and for that Reason would have ventured all
for their Defence. From these and such like Reasons 'twas, that several of the Parliament Men went accompanied with some of their Friends, well armed and accoutred, to Oxford, of which Number this Mr. Colledge was one, he waiting on my Lord Clare, Paget, and Huntington to Oxford; where the Parliament, fore seeing what has since happened, would have gone on where they left off in former Sessions, which causing great Heats, every Body knows how abruptly they were dissolved not long after their meeting. 'Twas now grown the Entertainment of every Coffee- House, and the Subject of every Buffoon's Pamphlet to expose and vilifie Parliaments as much as possible, and the very Name of was now grown as. odious to some Men, as that of Protes tant. Mr. Colledge had, besides all his other forementioned
Crimes, been, as he declares in his Speech, a great Honourer of that August Assembly, and had been in former Sessions engaged by some of the Honourable Members to search the Places adjoining the Parliament-House, lest there should be a new Gun-powder Treason hatching for 'em from whence, as he says himself, he believes he got that popular Name of Protestant
Joiner.
All these Reasons together were more than enough to get
him taken out of the Way and for the Performance thereof, Heins, Macnamarra, and one or two of the Apostate Evidence of the Popish Plot, informed against him. Nor a Wonder
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that after so many Attempts, some of those Men should be pre vailed with to prove false ; but rather, that under so many Temp tations any of 'em resisted, or were not sooner Villains. These
Persons swore such Mad Things against him, of taking Whitehall, and pulling the King out of and such other odd wild Stories, that partly from the Improbability of the Matter,
and partly from the ill Character of the Persons who witness'd the Jury here in London refused to find the Bill, but returned
Ignoramus. On which, contrary to all Justice, and President, and Law, and Common Reason, which forbids Man should be twice in Danger of his Life for the same Offence the Business was removed to Oxford, where how little Civility or common
he met with in his Trial, was then notorious to all the World a Person being check'd, for giving him but Assistance
and Notes in the way of his Calling, to make his Defence when his Life was engaged Yet tho' even these Notes were denied him, none that heard the Trial, or so much as read but must
grant, that he made a very extraordinary Defence, and much more than could have been expected from a Man of more Learn
ing. But he might have spared all his Labour the Business was, no Doubt on't, resolved upon before, and he was found Guilty, Sentenc'd, and Executed according to Order. To look back once more, and enquire a little deeper into the very Original of the Matter That there was a Design laid to bring in most of the worthy Patriots of England into a Sham- Plot under
the odious, scare-crow Name of Presbyterians, not only the Meal- tub Attempt, and several others of the same Batch, makes suffi ciently appear but the late Essay of Fitz-Harris above all the rest was enough to satisfie the most prejudiced Persons. He had
. conspired with some others to write a scandalous Libel against the King, which was to be laid on such as they'd call Presbyteri ans, and this to be sent to their Houses, or conveyed into their
Pockets, and there to be seiz'd, and the Persons prosecuted thereupon. This Business the Oxford Parliament had before 'em, and began to smell out who set on Foot and being re solved to find the Bottom on't, lest he should be hanged up on
the sudden to prevent his Confession, (he now beginning to melt a little) as Hubert, who fired London formerly, was, they impeached him, to keep the Examination of that Matter to themselves.
Justice
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'Tis to long too run over the Proceedings against him, and the Court-Parties subtle Contrivance, to Hang, Draw, and Quarter him, and so to hinder effectually his telling any more Tales. 'Tis sufficient to observe, that this Design was prosecuted for several Years after, and poor Colledge was to bear the Brunt on't,
as has been already declared.
If we reflect yet further on the manner of his Trial, and not
look on to any others, one would be apt to think 'twas impossible a Man could be destroyed with more Injustice and Barbarity than he was, or that twelve Men who look like Christians, could be found out, who wou'd hang a Man upon such Evidence as was given against him.
When a Criminal shall be kept close Prisoner in the Tower, without having sufficient Means to make his Defence till he come to his Trial : When, as has been said, he shall be rifled of his Notes, by which he could only save his Life, on which he depended, and that just before he came to his Trial ; though assisted therein by that very Council assigned by the Court for him : When he shall in vain demand 'em again, and call Heaven and Earth to witness, that he's meerly cheated of his Life for want of 'em: When all his Redress is such a frivolous Excuse, as not only a Judge, but any honest Man, would be ashamed to make Use of—Nay, such a Sort of a one as is commonly made be/ore the Judges, but seldom by 'em — That 'twas somebody else
did —That the Court, the Chief-Justice, had 'em not, nor did take 'em from him when the very Person stood by who rob'd him of^m and yet he could have no Reparation When the King's Council must whisper the Chief-Justice on the Bench, and the Court must be adjourned, on Purpose to examine those
Minutes which the poor Man had got together to save his Life, and even from them get an Opportunity to take awayi altering the manner of their Prosecution, strengthning and bolstering their Evidence where they found weak and contra dictory When all the Evidence against him, were not only such as an honest London Jury would not believe, though a Country one, directed by the King's Council, could make a shift to do it; but were every one of 'em, who witnessed any Thing material, confounded by such home Evidence, as, any thing in the World could do did certainly invalidate and annul their
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Testimonies : when one of them swears horridly, He cared not what he swore, nor whom he swore against, for 'twas his Trade
to get Money by swearing. — That the Parliament were a Com pany of Rogues for not giving the King Money, but he would help him to Money out of the Fanaticks Estates, which is ex plained by what Smith says,—That ifthe Parliament would not give the King Money, but stood on the Bill of Exclusion, 'twas Pretence enough to swear a Design to seize the King at Oxford. When this same Heins very pleasantly says, 'Twos a Judgment
upon the King and the People, and the Irishmens swearing against 'em was justlyfallen on 'em, for outing the Irish of their
Estates. When others of 'em swear, That since the Citizens de serted 'em, they would not starve ; that they would have Colledge's Blood ; That tho' they had gone against their Consciences, 'twas
because they had been persuaded to't and could get no Money else ; and when they had said before they believed Colledge had no more Hand in any Conspiracy against his Majesty, than the child unborn; When they would have hired others to swear more into the same Plot ; when the Bench was so just and kind
Counsel for the Prisoner, as to tell the Jury, the King's Wit nesses were on their Oaths, the Prisoner's not, and so one to be credited before the other ; in which Case 'tis impossible for any Man living to make a Defence against a perjured Villain. Lastly, When the Prisoner himself very weightily objected— That there was no proof of any Persons being concerned with him in the Design of seizing the King ; and 'twas wisely answered, — That he might be so vain as to design it alone—A thousand times more Romantick Improbability, than an Army's lying concealed at Knightsbridge, and of the same Stamp with Drawcansirs killing all on both sides. Taking all these Things together, hardly ever was a Man at this Rate banter'd out of his Life before any Judicature in the World, in any Place or Age that History has left us.
Nor ought the great Service he did to the Nation in general to be ever forgotten ; since notwithstanding ill the Disadvantages he was under, the publick Stream running so violently against him and his Witnesses and the Surprize which such strange Treatment, when he was on his Life, might cast him into, he yet made so strong a Defence, by shewing what Sort of Wit
ColleHge.
25
nesses were brought against him, hindring them ever after from being believed, and thereby certainly saved many anothers Life,
tho' he could not his own.
Nor can the undaunted Courage, and firm Honesty of the
Man be hardly ever enough admired. Since besides what he shewed in his Defence, after he was condemned, as he himself said, as good as without a Trial, he boldly askt, When he was to be executed? Without any the least seeming Concern. And tho' he had Time considerable before his Execution to consider on't, refused to save his Life so meanly as to make other innocent Mens the Price of his own ; without which Design they had hardly been so kind to have given him so long a Reprieve.
As for his Behavior at his Execution : 'Twas such as convinced more than a few of his greatest Enemies, and made 'em entertain a much better Opinion of him than before. From his Last Speech we shall remark several Passages as another Argument for his Innocency. But before we proceed any further in 'em, 'twill be needful to fix one Assertion, which we may presume few modest unprejudiced Persons will deny, and which we shall have Occasion to make further Use of. —'Tis,—That a Protestant, who believes an Heaven and Hell, and is not a Man of no Principles, or Debauched and Atheistical, would go out of the World, into the Presence of that God who must judge him, with a lie in his Mouth. — This none will deny, but
those who have a very great Kindness for the Papists; and yet of all Men in the World such as these must not offer to do —since 'twas the very Argument they made Use of for the Innocence of the Jesuits, and other Traytors. Though on that Side we know there are unanswerable Arguments not to believe them their Religion recommending Perjury, and all Sorts of Villanies to 'em as meritorious when Holy Church concerned. Their Church besides allowing 'em Dispensations before, and Absolution after, and Purgatory at the worst, whence a few Masses would fetch them out again. — Things being thus, what can a Man of Modesty say to Mr. Colledge's Protestations over and over, both in Prison, and at his Death, that he was perfectly innocent of what he died for? did deny it then (says he, that is, before the Council) and do deny it upon my Death never was
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in any manner ofPlot in my Days; nor ifIhad had any such Design as these have sworn against me, I take God to witness, as I am a dying Man, and on the Terms of my Salvation, I know not one Man upon the Face of the Earth which would have stood by me. ] And lower, [/ knew not of any Part of what they swore
against me, till I
Arms we had was for our Defence, in Case the Papists should have made any Attempt by way of Massacre, dr'c. God is my
heard it sworn at the the Bar. ] Again, [All
Witness this is all I know. ] —
And in his solemn Prayer, and
some of his almost very last Words ['Tis thee, O God,
I
of
in. —/ go disown all Dispensations, and will not out
trust
the World with a Lie in my Mouth. ] —IAnd just after to the People,
[From the Sincerity of my Heart,
declare again, that these are the very Sentiments ofmy Soul, as God shall have Mercy upon
me. ]
Now upon the whole, I'd ask any sober Man, what he would
answer to this, and how he can forbear, without the greatest Violation to all Principles of Good Nature and Ingenuity to
pronounce this Person innocent?
Thus died Mr. Colledge, whose Blood, as he himself desired
it might, sufficiently spoke the Justice of his Cause, who seemed in his Speech to have some Prophetick Intimations, that his Blood would not be the last, as indeed it was not, but rather a
Prelude to that which followed, the Edge of the Laws being now turned against all those who dared defend it.
He has one Daughter yet living, whose Gratitude and Generosity to those who were kind to her under the Misfortunes of her Family, is at , present the Wonder and Entertainment of the Court of England, and whose brave Soul speaks her the
true Child of such a Father.
For his Character, How great and undaunted his Courage
was, both his Trial and Death testifie. He was very vigorous and earnest, almost to a Fault, in his Undertakings. But cer tainly there are so few who err on that Hand, that we may with out Flattery account this his warm Zeal for his Country, if it did a little exceed, a happy as well as very pardonable Error.
He was extraordinary Ingenious in his own Trade, and employed amongst great Persons for his Dexterity therein. He had an entire Love for the City of London, and stood up for its Honour
9$t. Collebge. 27
and Priviledges as highly as any Man living. He had a Soul so very great and generous, that many who knew him well, have said, considering his Education, they wondered how he came by it. He was a Man of very good sound Sense, considerably more than those of his Rank generally have, which he had much improved in his latter Time by Conversation with Persons of Honor and Quality. In fine, he lived sufficiently beloved by those who knew, and did not fear him ; and died lamented by his Friends, and admired and esteemed by his very Enemies.
Some Time after his Death his Picture was sold about Town, which, as I remember, very much displeased the Observator. Under it were these Lines engraven,
By Irish Oaths, and wrested Laws I fell,
A Prey to Rome, a Sacrifice to Hell.
My guilty Blood for speedy Vengeance cries ;
Heaven, hear and help, for Earth my Suit denies.
Part of a Poem writ by Mr. Stephen Colledge, a while before he was sent to Oxford, where he suffered Death, Aug. 31. 1681.
What if I am into a Prison cast,
By Hellish Combination am betray'd ?
My Soul is free, although my Body's fast :
Let them repent that have this Evil laid,
And of Eternal Vengeance be afraid ; Though Racks and Gibbets can my Body kill, My God is with me, and I fear no Ill.
What boots the Clamours of the giddy Throng ? What Antidote's against a poisonous Breath ?
What Fence is there against a Lying Tongue, Sharpen'd by Hell to wound a Man to Death ? Snakes, Vipers, Adders do look underneath : Say what you will, or never speak at all,
Our very Prayers such Wretches Treason call.
flfllesftern S^artprologp
But Walls and Bars cannot a Prison make, The Free-born Soul enjoys its Liberty ;
The Clods of Earth it may incaptivate,
Whilst Heavenly Minds are conversant on high, Ranging the Fields of Blest Eternity :
So let this Bird sing sweetly in my Breast,
My Conscience clear, a Rush for all the Rest.
And sure of this the World's so well aware. That here 'tis needless more for me to say,
I must conclude, no time have I to spare,
My winged Hours do fly too fast away,
My (Work) Repentance must I not delay,
I'll add my Prayers to God for England's Good ; And if he please will Seal them with my Blood.
ARTHUR EARL OF ESSEX.
HAT Party, and those Persons who were engaged to manage the Designs before-mentioned, were now entered on the most compendious Way of intro ducing what they desired, as well as avoiding what
their own Consciences, and all the World knew they deserved. Having those in their own Hands, who had the Executive Part of the Government in theirs ; and finding, no Doubt, a sort of
malicious Pleasure, as well as Advantage, in destroying People by those Laws which were made to preserve 'em ; a Villany to be compared with nothing but the Treason of that Monster of a Priest, who gave the Emperor Poison in the Blessed Sacra ment : Having wrought up the Nation, and all Parties there in, to a high Ferment, making one Side mad for Slavery, as if they had all been at Constantinople as well as their Sheriff, and learnt the Doctrine of the Bow-string ; some of 'em treated, others cajoled, others frightned, and some few reasoned into the Belief of Absolute Authority in Kings, and Obedience Active as well as what is called Passive, to be paid to all their
28
£rtf)ur (Carl of
29
Commands. Some honest, several learned, more witty Men joining in with all their Power to advance the Transactions at that Time on the Wheel.
And on the other Side, exasperating that Party who were more tenacious of their Liberties, as much as possible against the Constitution which they saw so horridly
abused both in Church and State, persuading 'em all the Clergy were for making 'em Slaves, and themselves and the Court great to ride upon 'em ; whereas really it was only a Party, tho' too large, who made more Noise, tho' they had neither more Sense nor Number than those who differed from 'em ; and by this
Means rendring many of the Trading Part of the Nation es pecially, so dissatisfied with 'em, and eager against 'em, that they began to think they had Reason to fear as bad Effects thereof as they had experienced in the last Age, and so sided more closely with that Party whence they expected Protection. When Things were in this Posture, and a great many Persons either taken off from their Natural Love to a lawful Liberty, which is so much of the very Nature of an Englishman; the
Managers of the great Intrigue which was to accomplish our Ruin, resolved after they had begun with Colledge, to rise higher, and fly at a Nobler Game, and take off all those whom they could not win over, or against whom Interest or Revenge had more keenly engaged 'em, and who were most likely to make the most vigorous Opposition against their Attempts. But finding the London Juries unmoveably honest, and no Way to accomplish their Designs on these Persons, while their Witnesses would not be believed, and no Way to get Juries fit for their Turn, but by having Sheriffs of the same
Stamp ; and finding the Party they had gotten, after all their Tricks, which many of those who then knew, are now ashamed of, visibly and fairly out-numbred by those who were not yet ripe for Slavery, they bethought themselves of one Way to rid themselves of that Inconveniency —which was by a Quo War ranto against the City of London, that they might more effectually,
and with less Noise, have what Sheriffs they pleased ; or in Effect, hang whomever they thought their Enemies, and not be forced almost to blush at those visible and sensible Illegalities with which they had forced those Officers upon the City.
This they had accomplished in the Year 1683, when Judgment
3o
Clje afllesftern 9£art»rolo5p.
was given against the Charter of London, whose Liberties had been confirmed to 'em by William the Conqueror, and delivered down before from Immemorial Ages, and this by two Judges only in Westminster-Hall, tho' the greatest Cause, one may ven ture to say, that ever was legally tried therein.
Now by this Time they had, after so many former fruitless Endeavours, brought something of a Plot to bear ; and with this Advantage above all their former, that there was really some thing in't, altho', as Bays says in another Case, That Truth, which was notoriously blended with Lies and Perjuries. The Occasion of it we may best meet with in Holloway s most In genuous Acknowment ; [By Arbitrary and Illegal Ways, and Force of Arms, they had got Sheriffs to their Mind,— Witnesses they had before, but wanted Jurors to believe them. Now they
have got Sheriffs, who will find Jurors to believe any Evidence against a Protestant, and so hang up all the King's Friends by Degrees. —None being suffered to come near the King but those who have been declared Enemies to the King and Kingdom, who to save themselves, do endeavour to keep all Things from the King's knowledge, andpersuade him against Parliaments, cW. ]
Thus much for the Occasion. The Design seems to be the same with what was intended at first, by many of those Great and Eminent Persons, both Clergy and Laity, in their late Appearance in Arms ; tho' by the Providence of God, for the Security of the Nation, and Reason of State, it has since been carried farther than theirs was ever to have been. [Seeing fair
Means, says Holloway ', would not do, but all Things on the Pro testants Side misrepresented to the King by such great Criminals, andnone more inFavourthanthose,—TotaketheKingfromhis evil Council, and that (as the late wonderful Turn was transacted, and as 'tis impossible to be otherwise in Business of so large a Concern, by a general Insurrection in several Parts of England at once. ] All those who have had any Share in the present Transactions, which are upon the Matter all the Nation, have shewn themselves plainly of the same Mind with those who were engaged in this, on which the Dispute runs, as to the Reason of the Thing, and the Principles on which they pro ceeded—And their only Difference is ^bout Matter of Fact, Whether Things were then at that Height as to need desperate
Arrtjur
Remedies. If it be objected, That such Attempts are only glossy Pretences, vailed under the specious Name of the Publick Good—The Answer is as ready as the Objection, Is there any Difference between Reason and no Reason, Truth and Falshood? There is a Right, and a Wrong,—and if ever Liberties were in vaded, and the Ends of Government vacated and annulled, never were the Foundations of such a Design plainer than on this Occasion —So that 'twas indeed, what was of a Counter- Plot, rather than a Plot against the Government and Laws of England, and that when no other Remedy could without a
Miracle be expected.
That this was the Heighth and Utmost of the then Design,
and that no brave good Man need to be ashamed on't, think all, or most Men are by this Time pretty well satisfied. But alas This would not serve the Turn of the Managers —Even this might not, or perhaps could not be, as certainly 'twas not, fairly proved against several, who suffered for This was Thing so necessary and defensible, that there was Occasion of laying fouler Colours upon't, to fright and amuse the World, and let 'em stand by patiently, and see their Best and Bravest Patriots sink, with much such Prudence and Wisdom as the sheep in the Fable suffered those bloody Mastiffs to be destroyed, who so often broke the Peace between them and the harmless Wolves and were afterwards in their Turns handsomely worried, and justly eaten up for their Reward. 'Twas convenient to make somewhat more of —There must be an Assassination grafted on this Insurrection or else all would not be worth —an Halter 'Twas the Business and Interest of the Popish Party, to render their Enemies as odious as possible to the People, of whom, for their steddy Zeal and Love to their Religion and Liberties, they had long been the Darlings. To accomplish this, 'twas very necessary to get some Persons to insinuate into their Counsels, to inflame Things higher, to make black and odious Proposals of Assassinations, and Murders, and such bloody Villanies as alarm the good Nature of an Englishman with the very men tioning of 'em. —Which yet some of the honester and wiser looking upon as mad hot Words only, or, any more intended, having in their power to prevent such Wickedness another Way, would not yet turn Informers nor ruin those Persons, who
Carl of €$$tx. • 31
it
if
it,
it
:;
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!
32
%ty (Lalesftem S^artprologp
in all Probability were only Trapans to ruin them. In all the Papers relating to this Matter, we shall find all Discourses of this Nature center'd in West and Runtsey. West was very much for Lopping Business —for killing 'em in their Calling—and was so full and eager for it. Though Walcot, Holloway, and all whoever heard it proposed received it still with the greatest Detestation imaginable, as a most base and bloody Action, which they never would have their own Hands imbrued in, nor their Posterity stained with. That all the great Persons, of Birth and Honour, were absolutely against so foul an Action, and abhorred it from their Souls, we may find, even without the forced Confession of their worst Enemies, by the Lord Russefs Concern when such a Thing was muttered, and the Duke of Monmouth's Answer—Godso—KilltheKing! Iwillnever suffer it. The Account we have of from him who should best know, and that's West, who in his discourse with Holloway on this Occasion, tells him of the New-market and Rye-house Design—That the King and the Duke were to be killed as they came by, for which they had provided Arms for Fifty Men — and were promised Rumbald's House, which lay in the Road. When asked, Who was to act —who were to fire these Arms for Fifty Men, — Pistols, Carbines, and Blunderbusses? He could name but two Men, Rumbald and his Brother who certainly must have been very dexterous to have discharged all those dreadfull Businesses themselves without Assistance, and much such a likely Story as Colledge's being so vain to attempt
seizing the King by himself, without any Assistance.
But even these two Brothers, who very likely were pickt out by the Evidence for the King-killers, merely for their hard
Names, the very Sound of which would be as shrew'd an Argu ment of their Guilt to Women and children, and with as much Justice, as some of the odd Names of the poor People in the
West were made, at least strong Presumption against 'em, and almost as moral as an Innuendo. If even these two were innocent of this horrid Business, who were the only Persons engaged therein, pray, What then becomes of the Assassination? And won't Rumbald's Blunderbuss bear laughing at full as well as Pickering's Carbine or Screw-Gun, and chawed Bullets? But there be any Thing solid in that Observation in Colledge's
if
if
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is
;
it
it, is
artljur (£arl of (&$$tx. 33
Case, That a Christian, and a Protestant, won't forswear himself when he is just going out of the World; if this fair Supposition may but be granted me, as I see not how it can be avoided, the Matter will be clear enough ; Rumbald himself in his Speech at his Execution in Scotland, absolutely disclaiming and denying any Hand in any such Design. See his Speech, and Answer to his Indictment —He desired all Present to believe the Words of a dying Man — as for having designed the King's Death, he never directly, nor indirectly, intended such a Villany ; That he abhorred the very Thoughts orit; and that he blessed God he had that Reputation in the World, that he knew none had the Impudence to ask him the Question; and he detested the Thoughts of the Action, and hoped all good People would believe him ? which was the only Way he had to clear himself; and he was sure that this Truth should one Day be manifest to all Men. ] So at his Execution — / think it necessary to cleaI
r my-self of some should have had so horrid an Intention of destroying the King and his Brother. ]
Aspersions laid on my Name; and first, that
Where he repeated what he had said to the Jury on the same
—
of the Times, suffered for the same.
We have been forced to give this fair and impartial Scheme
or Idea of that Design, which was at that Time represented so formidable and dreadful, before we could handsomely proceed to the Death of this Noble Lord, or those others that followed him and that as well from the Order of the History, as for his Vindi cation. And as has been remarked, 'Twas necessary for that
Party who managed our Ruin, that the forementioned Business of the Assassination should be believed, and nothing like a real one actually performed, to gain Credit to a feigned one only pretended For what could be greater Argument than there was some black Wickedness at the Bottom, some Sin of an extraordinary Stain, like the Murder of Princes, bearing too hard D
Subject. The Sum
If any Assassination, must have been from If not by them as has been proved, then not at all. If no Assassination in this Plot, then nothing left of Malignity in but a lawful and laudable Opposition to the Breach and Ruin of our good Laws and Government and even that, as will be proved, not proved against most of those that by the Iniquity
the Rumbalds
:
a
;
;
it is
it,
: is,
34
tlje flfllesftern a-tartprolocyp
on his Conscience, that could possibly induce so great a Man to so unchristian an Attempt on his own Person? Hence they might, and no doubt did argue — Hence the very Rabble may
easily reason—Certainly there was more in it than only just Con sultations, and necessary Measures taken for the Publick Safety
by the Peers of the Realm — by the King and Kingdom's best Friends, to deliver his Majesty from those Familiars that haunted him. There was more than this, and this Lord was conscious of or else certainly he had never acted what he has. Now this would effectually excite that Aversion which must necessarily follow from all honest Men, to a Party who cou'd be guilty of such horrid Designs. This must of Necessity, as in Effect did, sway much with those Juries who were to sit upon the Lives of any accused or concerned in the same Business, had there not been more weighty Reasons to be produced below, towards the finding 'em guilty. Altho' 'tis certain, by their own
Confession, the best Excuse they could make for innocent Blood particularly iu Russel's Case, was that Confirmation they had to the Evidence sworn against 'em by Essex's Murder. Besides there might be a barbarous kind of a Pleasure, in opening this Plot with a Scene so like that which began the Popish one and that in all Probability, by the same Actors whose Hands were deep in the others.
There was a Gentleman killed, which contributed very much towards the Credit of that Plot, tho' in another Way. Here must be one to undergo the same Fate for the same Reason. And both of 'em too pretendedly to kill themselves. —Just one as much as another.
These Preliminaries being cleared, 'twill be now Time to come to the Person of this Noble Lord, his Family, and former manner of Life.
Every one knows he was of the Illustrious Family of the Capels, whose Father died for a Family, whence he deserved better Treatment for his Sake, and had received had he not fallen in the Hands of Popish Gratitude and Mercy which his Enemies knowing too well, and doubting the Sweetness of Tem per, which all the World ever acknowledged in King Charles the Second, would not give him over to their publick Revenge in all Probability, resolved to take a shorter Course with him.
;
it, ;
;
it
it,
Arrljur (Earl of (t$$tx. 35
He had been some Years before in the highest Place under the King in Ireland, and there behaved himself with that Wisdom and Candor, inseparable from all the Actions of his Life — and lived above Blame, though not above Envy : Being recalled thence unexpectedly, and dealt with not very handsomly ; which yet he bore with a Spirit like a Brave Man, and a
Christian.
My Lord of Essex was a Person, whom, 'twas no Doubt the
highest Interest of the Popish Faction, to have gotten out of the Way, even tho' there had been no such extraordinary Reason as has been mentioned. He had large Interest, a plentiful Es tate, a great deal of Courage, understood the World, and the Principles and Practices of the Papists, as well as any Man, having been of several Secret Committees in the Examination of the Plot, for which very Reason there was as much Necessity
for his dying as Sir E. B. Godfreys. He was, besides all this, they very well knew, of Inflexible Honesty, and so true a Great
ness of Mind, they could no more expect to gain him, than Heaven itself, to be on their Side.
As for the immediate Subject of his Death, the Manner and Circumstances thereof, —It must first be granted, and a very reasonable Demand it that for the present only supposing he was murdered only by the Papists, they would, we may be Sure, make their Business to render the Manner of as dark as
the Hell in which was contrived. Murders, especially of that Magnitude, don't use to be committed in the Face of all the World, and at Noon-day. When Power engaged in any
Villany, when the same power still continued or created, and can be easily exercised in taking out of the Way the Traitors, though loves the Treason; and when so many years have intervened since the Fact 'tis no Wonder at all Things are more in the Dark, than they would have been, had at that very Instant, Liberty been given to have enquired into which was so loudly and passionately demanded. But this we are yet
certain of, tho' no more be yet publickly known in this Matter than what has formerly been Printed and there may be several Reasons, both of State and Decency, which may perhaps make
convenient that Things should always be as they are yet there are already such violent Probabilities, both that he was murthered,
D
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it,
if
it
2
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it
;
;
;
it
it
is
it
is,
36 %\)t Wit&tivn S^actprologp.
and murthered by Papists ; and of the other Side, such at least next to Impossibilities, in his acting it himself, that as long as the World stands, no modest Man will be able either to get by 'em or over 'em ; nor the most Impudent or Cunning, to out-face, or give them an Answer.
For the Probability that he was murthered by Popish Con- trivement, besides those already named, Why they should do it? Here are these following Arguments, That they did it: Their Principles too openly known to be denied : Their practices in all Ages, and this present,—Sir E. B. G. the very Prototype of Essex, Arnold, all the pretended Legal Murders, all that has since happened — But if 'tis said, some Papists are better and braver than others, Let's come nearer. Would those that formerly burnt London; those who have since broke all the Obligations of Gratitude and good Nature, nay Publick Faith, and the most solemn Oaths which 'tis possible for a Man to take —Who, if the Testimonies of such as have confirmed it with their dying Breaths, and last Drop of Blood, may be credited, who have encouraged, hired, paid Men for Attempts to be made on the lives of their Nearest, and too tender Relations ; would such as these stick at a single Murther, a small Venial Villany, to advance their Cause, and merit Heaven into the Bargain? When Pretence of Justice, Necessity of Affairs, Reason of State, and so many more such Weights might be thrown into the Scales ? More then all this — When such Persons as these were actually in the Place where this Murther was committed, at the very Instant 'twas done ? All these together, with what is yet to follow, amount to as strong Arguments and pregnant Circumstances as the
Nature of the Thing will bear, and mark out the Murtherers as plainly and visibly, as if they had come out of his Chamber with white Sleeves, and a long Knife in their Hands, bloody all over.
And indeed there seems Need of little more than relating bare, simple, indubitable Matter of Fact, and such as hardly any Body will deny, to satisfie any cool rational Man in the Business.
The Earl of Essex's Throat was cut in the Tower the 13M of July, about Eight or Nine in the Morning, at which Time the Duke of York, a bigotted Papist, his known bitter Enemy, was there present. This was reported at Andover, Sixty Miles from London, the wth of July, the first Day of his Imprisonment, and
actliur
Qgairl of <£&ttje.
37
as common Town-talk in every Body's Mouth, as Sir is. B. CszX the Time of his Murther, and told a Person travelling on the Road near the same Place, which was witnessed before, even a Jeffreys, in a Publick Court of Judicature. A Deputy Coroner
present at the Inquest instead of a Legal one ; none of the Relations to attend the Inquest. The Body removed from the Place were 'twas first laid, stript, the Cloaths taken away, the Body and Rooms washed from the Blood, the Cloaths denied the View of the Jury. The principal Witnesses examin'd, only Bomeny his Man, and Russel his Warder, who might be so justly suspected of being privy to, if not Actors in it. That the Jury hasten'd and hurried the Verdict, when so Great a Man, a Peer of the Realm, and such a Peer was concerned, who was the King's Prisoner. When Sir Thomas Overbury had been before mur- thered in the Tower, and his Jury brought in an unrighteous Verdict; whenever Sir E. B. Gs Jury, so much cried out against for all their ill Management, adjourned their Verdict, and staid considerably before they brought it in. This at a Time when the Lord Russel was to be tried for a Share in a Plot, in which the Earl was also accused of being concerned. One Branch of which Conspiracy, and which 'twas so much the Papists In terest to have the Belief on't fixt, was a barbarous Murther of the Duke and King ; when nothing could so immediately and critically tend to that Noble Gentleman's Ruin ; when the News was instantly, with so much Diligence, convey'd from the Tower to the Sessions-House, Bench, Bar, and Jury, and harped upon by the Lord Howard just then, and by others in After-Trials, as more than a Thousand Witnesses, and the very Finger of God. After this the very Centinel, who that Day stood near the Place,
found dead in the Tower-Ditch, and Captain Hawley bar barously murdered down at Rochester; and ill Methods us'd to prevent the Truth of all from coming to Light. Mr. Braddon harassed, prosecuted, jayled, and fined for stirring in it. On the fair and impartial Consideration but of these Things, hardly one
of which bat is notorious Matter of Fact, granted by all Sides— What can a Man conclude from the Whole, but whether he will or no — That this Noble Lord was certainly murthered by the Popish Party?
But there is yet more Evidence, —Ifhe could not murther him
38
tOje flfllegtem S^artprologp.
self in that Manner, who then should do it but those on whom the Guilt of it has been justly charged? And this from the Manner of it. His Throat was cut from one Jugular to the other, and by the Aspera Arteria and Wind-pipe to the Vertebra of the Neck, both the Jugulars being throughly divided. How often has it been asked, and how impossible it should ever receive an Answer, — How could any living Man, after the
prodigious Flux ofBlood which must necessarily follow on the dividing one Jugular, as well as all those strong Muscles which lye in the Way, how could he ever have Strength to go through, all round, and come to the other, without fainting? One could as soon believe the Story of the Pirate, who after his Head was cut off, ran the whole Length of his Ship ; or that of St. Dennis, which was, no Doubt, grafted on the other.
Nor is it rendered less impossible from the Instrument with which those who did it would persuade the World 'twas per formed by himself. A little French Razor. Had Bomeny held to the Penknife, it had been much more likely. But here was nothing to rest or bear upon in the cutting, it having no Tongue to hold it up in the Haft : And as 'tis observed in the Prints on that Subject, he must therefore, supposing he had done it himself, have held his Hand pretty far, upon the very Blade, and so with
about two Inches aud a half of it whittle out a Wound of four Inches deep, and all round his Neck, as if he had intended to have been his own Headsman, as well as Executioner, out of Remorse of Conscience for his Treason.
Lastly, His Character makes it morally impossible he should be guilty of so mean and little an Action. 'Tis for Women, and Eunuchs, and Lovers, and Romantick Heroes, to kill themselves; not Men of known Vertue, Temper, Wisdom, Piety, and Gravity ; who had formerly digested as great Affronts as could be put upon a Man, with a Candor and Calmness so worthy a Man and a Christain, who had been so far from defending so barbarous and unmanly a Thing as Self-murther, as is suggested, that he
had rather express'd himself with Detestation concerning it.
And as he ought not, and could not be hurried into so fatal an Action by a false mistaken Greatness of Minds as no such Thing,
or so much as the least Footsteps of it appeared in the whole Course of his Life ; so from all his Actions in the Tower before
Artljur (Carl of (fcsge j.
39
his Death, we may fairly deduce the quite contrary to what his Enemies have asserted; and by observing his Conduct there, discover plainly that no such black Intention ever enter'd into his Mind. This appears from ordering his People to have his own Plate sent for out of the Country to dress his Meat, as well as a considerable Parcel of Wines bought and brought into the
Tower for his Drinking, that he might not stand to the Courtesie of his Enemies; and this sufficient to last him till he could be delivered by due Course of Law.
I can foresee but one Thing that can with the least Plausibility be objected to this considerable Passage ; and 'tis, That this was when he was first committed, before he fell melancholly, which he
more eminently did when he heard my Lord Russel was to be tried, as being grieved and desperate for having brought so
brave a Gentleman into such unhappy Circumstances, as Bomeny somewhere or other pretends to, on discoursing with him on that Particular.
But there are two Answers which cut all the Sinews of this Objection : One, That this was the very Day before he was murdered, that he sent both for his Wine and Silver Vessels. Now Bomeny lays the Foundation of his Melancholly, and the Intention to be his own Destroyer, on the very first day he came into the Tower. For he says in his Deposition in Braddon's Trial, [That he had ordered his Servant two Days before to
provide a Penknife for him, on Pretence of cutting his Nails, but with an Intent of committing that Fatal and Tragical Act. } The Thirteenth of July was the Day of his Martyrdom, two Days before then must be the Eleventh, the Day of his Commitment :
But 'twas the intervening Day, the Twelfth of that Month, on which he took such Care to eat and drink safely : Whereas had there been any such Design in his Head, he would never have taken such Measures; and if he had had an Intention to amuse his People, that no such Thing might have been suspected, he might have taken other Ways, less troublesome and chargeable.
But what yet clears all the remaining Scruple, is his ordering his Gentleman to take Notes at my Lord Russel's Trial, appointing him how to manage himself for the effecting so calmly and or derly, that he can't be suppos'd either disturbed, or desperate on Account of his own Guilt, or RusselPs Unhappiness; or to have
it,
40
%ty aflleatern S^artprologp.
taken this Course with himself, as Jeffreys says in Braddon's Trial, to prevent Justice, tho' others did it with him, to prevent Mercy,
One great Argument more ; That, which indeed when it hap pened, did much alarm all thinking Men, and make 'em shrewdly suspect foul Play had been offered, was the ill Treatment those met with who dared but pry into those Arcana Imperii, and desire but in a legal Way that the Business might be reviewed, and searched to the Bottom. This was granted in the Case of poor Sir Edmund, many Years after his Death, and Commission given to enquire into to L'Estrange. —But 'tis confest there was a great deal of Difference. One, as 'twas managed, tending to root up all Belief of a Popish Plot: T'other, had been honestly examined, might have done as much in Reality to a Protestant one. The great Tenderness of some Persons in this Case, and their huge Aversion and Unwillingness to be touched thereabouts, made People more than suspect, that there was some Sore or other in the Case which would not endure it. Mr. Braddon had heard of Boy, who being playing before Essex's Window that Morning saw a bloody Razor thrown out of the Window he thought he should do the King Service to make a Discovery any Injury had been offered to one of his Subjects, especially so great and good Person. He brings the Boy with him to my Lord Sunderland, and for his Reward himself brought before the Council, severely reprimanded, and forced to give 2000/. Bail to answer an Information for suborning the Boy to say what he did. Upon which, after a great many worse Vexations, which besides the Charge and Trouble, hindred also his Prosecution of the Business while 'twas yet fresh and warm: he was at last tried The very words in the Indictment running, —For hisprocuring andsuborning false Witnesses to prove that the Earl of Essex was -not a Felon of himself, &c. Of which, according to Jeffrey's Lain, and the Conscience oi the then Juries, he was found guilty, and fined for the same tho' not the least Syllable of Practice or Subornation prov'd against him Tho' the Boy did himself acknowledge he had said those Things, as well as several Witnesses proved Tho' 'twas terribly suspicious that some Art had been afterwards used with the Boy to make him deny it; tho' Jeffreys stormed and raved after his usual
it :
:
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if it
;
:
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Arrtjut dEftrl of flfefsfejc.
41
Manner, when Mr. Wallop did put such a Question, and would by no means have it be answered.
But whatever this couragious honest Gentleman suffered from their Spite and Malice, he bore all with handsome, and truly English Resolution. As he before his Imprisonment, and since, was indefatigably diligent in getting up the Bottom of this foul Business ; all Englishmen must own, he has deserved the Love and Honour of His country, who was not discouraged from acting even in the worst of Times, against a whole enraged Faction, where he had such firm and pregnant Circumstances on which to ground his Attempt ; tho' he could not but be sensible he must undergo all the Censures of his Friends, as forward and imprudent ; as well as all the Hate and Malice of his own and his Country's Enemies. He deserves a much fairer Commenda tion than here can be given him ; but however, this was a just Debt due to his Courage and Honesty, when he alone durst undertake what all the World else was afraid of: Durst still continue firm to Honour and Conscience, and his first Resolu tion, in Spite of Fines and Imprisonments, and has now outliv'd
'em all, to carry on his first Undertakings ; whose Design therein no Doubt, just and generous, whatever the Event proves
and although so much Dust may have, since happened, been purposely thrown on the Action, that may be now more Difficult, and perhaps unsuccessful to trace than 'twas before.
His Character.
It must be confessed, 'tis a bold and dangerous Thing to attempt the Character of one of the greatest men which our Age has produced, especially for one who had not the honour of any personal Intimacy with him. All that's to be done from what has been already said, and what other Memoirs are left of him, to endeavour at something so like him, that any one who sees may say 'twas meant for the Picture of the Great ESSEX, how infinitely soever must of Necessity be short of its Original.
The first Thing then remarkable in him, and which alone would sufficiently distinguish him, That he was a Person of strict Morals, and severe Piety and that in the midst of a Court and Age not very famous for either. Nor did this de generate into Superstition or Weakness. He was refined
a
;
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;
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42
flfllesftem S^cUtprologp.
Politician, without what some will say 'tis impossible to be so, and that's Dissimulation. When Affronts were offered him, he did not, as others, dissemble 'em, but, like himself, only scorn and conquer 'em ; even tho' of the highest Nature, and which generally pierce deepest into Persons of his Figure and Character. He was, as all the rest here commemorated, a firm Lover of his Country and Religion, the true Character of a true Englishman; and Engaged on their Sides against the then Duke of York, and other Ministers, not from any mean Pique or little discontented
Humour, which he has very much above, but meerly from the true Respect he had for 'em, and a Sense of that imminent Danger they were in, which his piercing Judgment and long
Experience made him more sensible of, and his Courage and Vertue more concerned at, than others ; not only those who sat unconcerned Spectators, or shared in their Ruins ; but even the most of them who were engaged with him in the same Common Cause of their Defence and Preservation. Nothing of such an Impatience, or Eagerness, or black Melancholly could be dis cerned in his Temper or Conversation, as is always the Symptom or Cause of such Tragical Ends, as his Enemies would persuade
us he came to.
Lastly, What may be said of most of the rest, does in a more
especial and eminent Manner agree to the Illustrious ESSEX; and than which, nothing greater can be said of Mortality, He lii/d an Hero, and dy'd a Martyr.
Upon the Execrable Murther of the Right Honour able Arthur Earl of Essex.
Mortality would be too frail to hear
How ESSEX fell, and not dissolve with Fear ; Did not more generous Rage take off the Blow, And by his Blood, the Steps to Vengeance show ?
The Tow'r was for the Tragedy design'd ; And to be Slaughter'd he is first Confin'd : As fetter'd Victims to the Altar go.
But why must Noble ESSEX perish so ? Why with such Fury drag'd into his Tomb,
Murther'd by Slaves, and sacrific'd to Rome ?
artljur (£arl of &mx>
By Stealth they kill, and with a secret Stroak, Silence that Voice which Charm'd whene'er it Spoke, The bleeding Orifice o'erflow'd the Ground,
More like some mighty Deluge, than a Wound.
Through the large Space his Blood and Vitals glide, And his whole Body might have past beside.
The wreaking Crimson swell'd into a Flood,
And stream'd a Second Time in Capers Blood.
He's in his Son again to Death pursu'd,
An Instance of the high'st Ingratitude.
They then malicious Stratagem's imploy,
With Life his dearer Honour to destroy ;
And make his Fame extinguish with his Breath, And act beyond the Cruelties of Death.
Here Murther is in all its Shapes compleat, As Lines united in their Center meet, Form'd by the blackest Politicks of Hell ; Was Cain so dev'lish when his Brother fell ?
He that contrives, or his own Fate desires, Wants Courage, and for Fear of Death, expires: But Mighty ESSEX was in all Things Brave ; Neither to Hope, nor to Despair, a Slave.
He had a Soul too Innocent and Great,
. To fear, or to anticipate his Fate:
Yet their exalted Impudence and Guilt
Charge on himself the precious Blood they spilt. So were the Protestants some Years ago
Destroy'd in Ireland without a Foe.
By their own barbarous Hands the Mad-men die ;
And massacre themselves they know not why : Whilst the kind Irish howl to see the Gore, And pious Catholicks their Fate deplore.
If you refuse to trust Erroneous Fame,
Royal Mac-Ninny will confirm the same.
We have lost more in Injur'd CapePs Heir,
Than the poor Bankrupt Age can e'er repair.
Nature indulg'd him so, that there we saw
All the choice Stroaks her steddy Hand could draw :
%ty flfllegtern Qpartprologp.
He the Old English Glory did revive,
In him we had Plantagenets alive. Grandeur, and Fortune, and a vast renown Fit to support- the Lustre of a Crown.
All these in him were potently conjoin'd, But all was too ignoble for his Mind.
Wisdom and Vertue, Properties Divine, Those, God-like ESSEX, were entirely thine.
In his great Name he's still preserv'd alive, And will to all succeding Times survive. With just Progression, as the constant Sun
Doth move, and through its bright Ecliptick Run. For whilst his Dust does undistinguish'd lye, -\ And his blest Soul is soar'd above the Sky, > Fame shall below his parted Breath supply. J
WILLIAM LORD RUSSEL.
H E next who fell under their Cruelty, and to whose Death Essex's was but a Prologue, was my Lord Russel; without all Dispute the finest Gentleman, one of 'em, that ever England bred ; and whose
by the latter made Lord High Admiral, and at his Death Lord High Steward of England, for the Solemnity of the Coronation; obtained such a Victory for his Young Master against his Rebels,
as was rewarded with the Title of The Earl of Bedford. The Occasion of it thus — Idolatry and Superstition being now root ing out by the Publick Authority, and Images every where pulling down, the Loyal Papists mutined, and one of their
44
pious Life and Vertue is as much Treason against the Court, by affronting 'em with what was so much hated there, as any Thing else that was sworn against him. His Family was ancient, tho' not rais'd to the Honours it at present enjoys, till King Edward's Time, when John Russel, a Dorsetshire
Gentleman, who had done many Services, and received many favours from the Crown, both in Henry the Seventh, and Henry the Eighth's Time, being
flflli'lltam ILorti
EuggeL
45
Priests stabb'd a Commander of the King's, who was obeying his Orders, and Ten Thousand of the deluded Rabble rise in the Defence of that barbarous Action, and their old Mass and Holy- Water. Against whom this Fortunate Lord was sent with an Army, who routed 'em all, relieved Exeter, which they had besieged, and took their Gods, Banners, Crucifixes, and all the rest of their Trumpery, wherein the deluded Creatures trusted
for Victory. Thus the Family of the Russels were early Enemies to the Romish Superstition, tho' this Brave Gentleman only paid the Scores of all his Ancestors. The Son and Heir of this John was Francis, second Earl of Bedford, who was as faithful to the Crown as his Father, an Enemy and Terror to the French, and a Friend to the Protestant Religion, as may appear by the Learned Books of Wickliff, which he collected, and at his Death bequeathed to a great Man, who he knew would make good Use
of 'em. His Eldest Son, William Lord Russel, the late Duke of Bedford, is sufficiently known to every true Englishman, and his Person and Memory will be honoured by them as long as the World lasts. But 'tis necessary good Men should not be im mortal —if they were, we should almost lose their Examples, it looking so like Flattery. But to do 'em Justice while they are living, with more Safety and less Censure, we may discourse of that Noble Gentleman, his Son and Name-sake William Lord Russel, who made so great a Figure in our Courts and Parlia ments, before he was sacrificed to the Cruelty and Revenge of his Popish Enemies. If we'd find his first Offence, which lay behind the Scene, and was indeed the Cause of his Death, though other Colours were necessary to amuse the Publick, we must look some Years backward, as he himself does in his last Speech, wherein he tells the World, [He cannot but think his Earnestness in the Matter of the Exclusion, had no small Influence on his present Sufferings. ] Being chosen Knight of the Shire for Bedfordshire, where the Evenness and Sweetness of his Behaviour, and his Virtuous Life, made him so well- beloved, that he'll never be forgotten. He began sooner than most others to see into that Danger we were in from Popery, and all those fatal Consequences which have since happened ; and described them as plainly as if he had more than the ordi nary Inspection of a Prudent Man into Futurities. Thus in his
.
46
Wyt flfllegtem S^artprologp.
first Speech, on the Discovery of the Popish Plot in 78. he has these Words, [/ am of Opinion that the Life of our King, the Safety of our Country, and the Protestant Religion, are in great danger from Popery; and that either this Parliament must suppress the Power and Growth of Popery, or elso that Popery will soon destroy not only Parliaments, but all that is near and dear to us. ] And lower, [/ humbly move, that we may resolve to take into our Consideration in thefirst Place, how to suppress Popery, and prevent a PopieJ Successor, without which all our Endeavours about this Matter will not signifie any thing. ] And how much he was in the Right as to all these Guesses, which then no doubt were nick-named Groundless and Factious Fears and Jealousies, all the World is now satisfied. Nothing can be more handsome than what he says on this Subject in his Last Speech, which gives the Reasons of his Acting at that Time, and being so earnest for the Bill, in which indeed is as fair a State of that great Question as we shall any where find in so little a Compass. [/ cannot, (says he) but give some Touch about the Bill of Exclusion, and shew the Reasons I my appear ing in that Business, which in short is this : Thatof
Nation was in such I and that the Expectation Danger ofPopery,
have saiId in put the of a Popish Successor (as Parliament)
saw no Way so
fiing'a Hife also in such Danger, that effectual
to secure both, as such a Bill. As to the Limitations which were proposed, ifthey were sincerely offer andhadpast into a Law, the Duke then would have been excluded from the Power of a King, and the Government quite alter'd, and little more than the Name of a King left: So could not see either Sin or Fault in the one, when all People were willing to admit of the other; but thought it better to have a King with his Prerogative, and the Nation easie and safe under him, than a King without it, which must have bred perpetual Jealousies, and continual Struggle. ] Thus far that Noble Lord, with whom concurred at that time very many great and good Men, as true Lovers of the Regulated
Monarchy of England, as of the Protestant Religion and in deed all were at that Time unanimous in the House of Commons, and other Places, except some honest Men, who despaired of obtaining his Exclusion Others who strained their Charity almost as far as Origen, who hoped well even of the Devil, and
thought the
;I
;
'd,
they came not far short, believing a Papist would be honest or grateful. Some who were indifferent — Their private Obliga tions to the Duke byassing their Judgments too much on his Side. Others fearful that the contrary Tide ran so strong, they could have no Safety but under his Protection —and perhaps more than all these, others, who fairly bought and sold their
Religion and Liberties —the Blood and Souls of themselves and honester Men ; whom 'tis not doubted but our Chronicles will mark as long as our Nation has any in't that can but write them selves, or read what others have written.
The Reader will pardon this little Digression, and go on with me to remark some strange Expressions in another Speech of his. 'Twas on a Debate in the House for Money to be given for the Relief of Tangier. [Doth not (says he) the Duke's interest
And are not our Lives and Fortunes
the Popish — Then
will be disposed of according to his Majesty's owI
sure, andfor the true Protestant Interest, and
to give, even all that I have in the World, if his Majesty shall
[If I Change, that
shall conclude, what Money we shall give, n Royal Plea
I have been the larger in this, to unde ceive the World as to that clamouring against those Parliaments
for not giving the King Money, the true Reason of which we may here plainly perceive.
But there is one Passage so very remarkable, and I know not
how to call it less than Prophetical, in the Beginning of this
same Speech, that it must by no means be omitted, 'tis as fol
have Occasion for
it. ~\
lows. ever there should happen in this Nation any such
should not have Liberty to live a Protestant, / am resolved to die one?