Volume 9 / Part 2 — NOTES ON ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL. PART II.

Note I.

It is certain, that, whatever the private wishes of Charles may have been, he neither did nor durst interfere, by his royal prerogative, to prevent the execution of Stafford, Coleman, Langhorne, Plunket, and other Catholics of rank, who were condemned on account of the Popish Plot. Ireland, Fenwic, Gavan, Turner, and Harcourt, Jesuits, with Whitebread, the provincial of the order, were all tried, sentenced, and executed for the same conspiracy; persisting, to their last breath, in the most solemn and deliberate asseverations of innocence: But their dying testimonies only irritated the populace the more against a religion, which taught its votaries to go down to the grave with a manifest lie, as they supposed, in their right hand.

Note II.

The Parliament, before whom Oates was examined, did not confine themselves to simple approbation of his conduct. He was treated in a manner suitable to the sense they had of his merit and importance. The charge of his personal safety was recommended by the House of Commons to the Lord General, the care of his lodgings and accommodation to the Lord Chamberlain, and that of supplying him with money to the Lord High Treasurer of England.

The state of Oates, in his splendour, is very well described by North: "He was now in his trine exaltation; his plot in full force, efficacy, and virtue; he walked about with his guards, assigned for fear of the Papists' murdering him. He had lodgings at Whitehall, and L. 1200 per annum pension; and no wonder, after he had the impudence to say to the House of Lords, in plain terms, that, if they would not help him to more money, he must be forced to help himself. He put on an episcopal garb, (except the lawn sleeves,) silk gown and cassock, great hat, sattin hatband and rose, long scarf, and was called, or blasphemously called himself, the Saviour of the Nation. Whoever he pointed at was taken up and committed; so that many people got out of his way as from a blast, and glad they could prove their last two years conversation. The very breath of him was pestilential; and if it brought not imprisonment or death over such on whom it fell, it surely poisoned reputation, and left good Protestants arrant Papists, and something worse than that, in danger of being put into the plot as traitors." Examen. p. 205.

Note III.

Oates never would say he had told all he knew, but always reserved some part of his evidence to be changed or altered with the shifting wind of faction or popularity. According to his first narrative, the plot was laid against the persons of the king and Duke of York; and their assassination was to take place during the fire of London. But he had the impudence to say, in his picture of King James, that both his brother and he were in that very plot for firing the city, a secret which, he alleges, he could not discover at the time, on account of a promise to Prince Rupert; and is pleased to add, that the prince heartily repented of giving, and he of taking, that counsel. When he was asked, in the House of Commons, whether he had told all he knew of the conspiracy? this cautious witness, who was determined to have the whole credit of saving the kingdom his own way, instead of entrusting the House with the secret, told them a parable of a fox, who, having occasion to cross a frozen stream with a goose, and being unwilling to hazard his spoil, first carried over a stone of equal weight with the goose, to see if the ice would bear it. In short, neither he, nor any of his imitators, would say more, than that their immediate evidence was all which they as yet thought meet to declare.

This would have been tolerated no where but in England, and during that period of terror, suspicion, and infatuation, when these perjured caitiffs were as dear to the people as those who tell stories of Rawhead and Bloody-bones are to their nursery audience. The author has said, and with much truth,

The discovery of Coleman's letters, however irreconcileable with the tale of the witnesses, above all, the murder of Godfrey, gave such a bloody confirmation, that the people swallowed all that could be told them about the horrors of the conspiracy; and, to use the warm expression of the author of the "Examen," one might have denied his Redeemer with less contest than attainted the veracity of Oates.

This popular ferment began to abate after the execution of Lord Stafford; and, as the witnesses sunk in reputation, the king began by degrees to discountenance Oates. He expelled him from Whitehall, withdrew his guards, and reduced his pension to L.600. Upon this Oates altered his dress, assumed a sword, and associated with the more desperate of the popular faction, such as Rumbold, Colledge, and Fergusson. In the reign of James II., his fortunes suffered a yet more melancholy reverse; for, being most satisfactorily convicted of perjury, by upwards of eighty witnesses, he was sentenced to two fines of 1000 merks each; to be whipped, on two different days, from Aldgate to Newgate, and from Newgate to Tyburn; to be imprisoned for life, and to be pilloried five times every year. James had the imprudence to exult in this cruel punishment. He told Sir John Reresby, that the Popish plot was now dead; and, when that courtier obsequiously answered, "and buried, please your majesty," he thought the jest worth repeating, which his brother would hardly have done. It is true, no punishment could be bad enough for the author of so many legal murders; but the severity of the sentence was an injury to the law of the land, though done through the person of so vile a criminal. The man's impudence supported him under the conviction; and his fortitude under the punishment was the means of regaining a share of his fallen credit. After the Revolution, he was pardoned, and received a pension of L.400, with the amount of which he was much dissatisfied, as well as with the refusal of the Parliament to reverse his sentence, and restore his capacity for his old trade of bearing evidence.

Note IV.

North, and other Tory writers, have affected to consider Shaftesbury as the original author of the Popish plot. Of this there is no proof whatever; and the internal evidence derived from the account of the plot itself, is altogether inconsistent with the very idea. Shaftesbury could never have given birth to such a heap of inconsistent fables; a plan which he had forged would have been ingenious, consistent with itself, accommodated to the circumstances of parties, and the times, and therefore, in all probability, being less suited to the vulgar palate, would not have made half the impression on the public. But we can easily believe the truth of what he is alleged to have said, "that whoever started the game, he had the full advantage of the chase." In fact, this wonderful tale, probably at first invented by two or three obscure knaves, with the sordid view of profiting by the credulity of the English nation, would have fallen to the ground, had it not been fostered and cherished by Shaftesbury, who very soon perceived it could be made the means of turning out Lord Danby, and driving matters to extremity against the Catholic faction. He might well indeed exult in his management in the former particular, since Danby was the first to introduce into the House of Commons that very discussion about the plot, to which, as Shaftesbury managed it, he himself fell a sacrifice.[411] But it was chiefly as a means of bringing forward the Bill of Exclusion, and of crushing for ever the hopes of his mortal foe the Duke of York,[412] that Shaftesbury became the patron of all investigations connected with the plot, pushed them on with vigour and vehemence, and dipped himself deep in the blood of the innocent persons who fell sacrifices to the popular clamour he had excited, and to evidence, which much less than Shaftesbury's abilities might easily have discovered to be inconsistent and fabulous.

A humorous pamphlet, already quoted, represents Shaftesbury as abandoning his pretensions to the crown of Poland, for the purpose of following up the discovery of the Popish plot. "In the very height of all this expectation, one night as his majesty elect lay musing upon his bed, restless with the thoughts and expectation of the approaching empire, there appeared to him, by the light of a lamp that was burning in his chamber, a dreadful and most monstrous vision. The shape and figure of it was very confused and irregular: sometimes it looked like the whore of Babylon, naked, and of immense privities; presently, in the twinkling of an eye, the form was changed, and it appeared like a justice of the peace, strangled by a crew of ruffians, who afterwards ran him through the body with his own sword, that it might be thought he hanged himself; on a sudden it was altered again, and seemed a troop of pilgrims, armed with black bills, that came the Lord knows whence, landed the Lord knows where, and are gone the Lord knows whither. His majesty seeing it vary so often, and so terribly, calling up all the faith he had to his assistance, boldly demanded 'In the name of, &c. what art thou?' Instantly, after a terrible clap of thunder, accompanied with several flashes of lightning, it contracted itself into the shape of a doctor of Salamanca, and, in a hideous tone, cried out, 'I am a Plot. Woe to England! farewell till 78;' and vanished. No sooner was it gone, but a stupid amazement seized upon the majesty of Poland, and cast him into a deep sleep, where he lay till morning, when, awakening, he found himself stript of all the high and aspiring thoughts that before had filled his mind; pity and compassion towards his native country utterly cooled his ambition, and from that moment he laid by all thoughts of converting the Turk, and resolved to stay at home for confounding the pope.

"Thus has this good man, (for he is no more his majesty,) again refused the highest promotion that perhaps any subject of England was ever raised to, merely to stand in a gap here, and slay the plague that was coming upon us."[413]

Note V.

In 1679, the national discontent running exceedingly high, both on account of the Popish plot, and for other reasons, the king, by the advice of Sir William Temple, summoned a council of thirty persons, fifteen of whom were the great officers of the crown, and fifteen chosen from the country party. Shaftesbury was made president of this council, against the opinion of Temple; and quickly found the means of pressing his favourite measure of the Exclusion Bill. Monmouth, upon whose interest in the king's affections he had great reliance, was the person whom he proposed to nominate as successor, either by a law to be passed for the purpose, or by prevailing on the king to declare him legitimate. For this purpose, the interest of Shaftesbury was exerted to have the duke sent down to Scotland, to oppose the insurgent Covenanters, whom he defeated at Bothwell Bridge. The king's illness, and the sudden revolution which took place in his councils, upon the unexpected return of the Duke of York from Flanders, ruined this project, and occasioned the disgrace of Monmouth, and the dismissal of Shaftesbury.

Note VI.

Sir Robert Clayton, alderman of London, and one of the representatives of the city during the two last parliaments of King Charles II., was warmly attached to the Whig party. He took an active concern, as a magistrate, in examining the sham-plotter, Fitz-Harris; and was charged by the Tories with an attempt to suborn that person to swear, that he had been hired by the court to fix a plot upon the Protestants. The examination of Fitz-Harris, who swore, and counter-swore, in many different ways, besides avouching that he was bribed to concoct a sham-plot, and to ascribe it to the Whigs, (a base manœuvre, too often played off by both parties to be incredible,) added a thousand improbable falsehoods about a Papist plot against the Protestants. When removed from the city jail, and committed to the Tower, he told another story: He was then in the power of the king, and alleged, that Howard, and others, were in a plot to seize the king's person, and that they had employed him to contrive the aforesaid sham-plot, in order to charge upon the court the crime of subornation, &c. He added, that Clayton, Bethel, Cornish, and Treby, the city-recorder, extorted from him, by threats, his previous declaration concerning the Popish plot, and used the most urgent means to compel him to impute the guilt of Godfrey's murder to Danby, and to fix an accession to the Popish conspiracy on the queen and Duke of York. The man was executed adhering to this last story. Clayton, and the others accused of such infamous practices, exculpated themselves in a pamphlet, entitled, "Truth Vindicated," in which they showed many objections to Fitz-Harris's final declaration. We must be contented to leave the affair in mystery; and to regret there ever was a time in England, when the character and common practices of both the leading parties in the kingdom were by no means pure enough to exempt either from such foul suspicions.

Sir Robert Clayton, with the other London members, all of whom were zealous Whigs, and whose re-election was hailed by the acclamations of their party,[414] attended the Oxford Parliament in formidable array; they were escorted by a numerous band of armed partizans, who wore on their hats ribbons, bearing the label, "No Popery, no Slavery," and were obviously prepared for something more than an usual attendance upon their duty in the House of Commons. According to Dugdale's evidence, Sir Robert Clayton was present at a carousal at Lord Lovelace's, near Oxford, where Colledge, one of their principal myrmidons, sung the unlucky ballad, which went so far towards his condemnation.[415]

The story, that Sir Robert Clayton wished to purchase a peerage, seems to have become popular. In the last will and testament of the Charter of London is this, among other jocular bequests; "To Sir Robert Clayton I bequeath all that the chamberlain has left of the common stock, to purchase Paddington manor, with the demesnes and appurtenances thereto, since there are now no dukedoms to be purchased; and it is thought that Tyburn, paying his arrears next year to the city, will yield a better rate than 20l. per cent. in the banker's hands."—Somers' Tracts, p. 185. His usury is also hinted at in a poem called, "The Duke of Buckingham's Litany," and its consequences are enumerated among the other follies of that prodigal peer:

It ought to be mentioned to Sir Robert Clayton's honour, that out of his wealth, howsoever procured, he dedicated a portion to found the mathematical school in Christ Church Hospital.

Note VII.

Sir Thomas Player, chamberlain of the city of London, was, like Sir Robert Clayton, one of the city members, both in the Westminster and Oxford parliaments; and, being as zealous as his colleague in the popular cause, what has been said concerning their mode of marching to Oxford, applies to him as well as to the other. He is accused of libertinism, in the pasquinade quoted in the last note, where the Charter of London makes him this bequest: "To Sir Thomas Player, I leave all the manor of Moorfields, with all the wenches and bawdy-houses thereunto belonging, with Mrs Cresswells[416] for his immediate inheritance, to enjoy and occupy all, from the bawd to the whore downward, at nineteen shillings in the pound cheaper than any other person, because he may not exhaust the chamber by paying old arrears, nor embezzle the stock by running into new scores."[417]

Note VIII.

When the Duke of York unexpectedly returned from Brussels, on the news of the king's illness, his arrival spread discomfiture through Shaftesbury's party in court, and rage and alarm among those in the city. Sir Thomas Player, at the head of a numerous body of citizens, or persons who called themselves so, made his appearance before the lord-mayor, and court of aldermen; and after having expatiated, in a set speech, upon the horrors of Popery, and upon the return of the Duke of York, whose religion had first led to the conspiracy, and whose recent arrival must necessarily give it new life, he gravely demanded, that the city-guards should be doubled, and that four companies, instead of two, should be appointed to duty every night. The lord-mayor, after some discussion, evaded Sir Thomas's request, by referring it to the livery. In the vehemence of the chamberlain's oratory, a remarkable expression, noticed in the text, chanced to escape him, "that he durst hardly go to sleep, for fear of awaking with his throat cut." In the pretended account of this interview, he is only made to say, that it was now out of doubt, that the Papists had burnt the city; "And if they had not been disappointed, would have cut our throats too at the same time, while we were endeavouring to save the small remainder of our goods." But the publisher acknowledges, he could give but an imperfect account of the "speech of this worthy and deserving knight, and the Lord Mayor's generous reply thereunto." "Cutting throats," indeed, appears to have been a frequent terror of the zealous knight. In the Westminster parliament, he made a speech on the Exclusion Bill, in which, after stating that he had read in Scripture of one man dying for a nation, but never of three nations dying for one man; he assured the House, that they "would be embroiled in blood before they were aware of it;" that he had "no patience to think of sitting still while his throat was a cutting;" and therefore prayed, they would endeavour to have laws that might enable them to defend themselves.[418] In the parliament of Oxford, Sir Thomas Player made a violent speech, upon Fitzharris being withdrawn from the city jail, and sent to the Tower, with a view, as he contended, of stifling his evidence against the Duke of York and the Papists; and concluded by making a motion, which was carried, that if any judge, justice, or jury, should proceed upon him, and he be found guilty, they be declared guilty of his murder, and betrayers of the rights of the commons of England. In short, Sir Thomas Player was a hot-headed violent factionary; but Rouse, one of his dependants who suffered for the Rye-house plot, with his dying breath cleared Sir Thomas of any accession to that conspiracy; and declared, that he broke with Lord Shaftesbury, upon perceiving the violent plans which he agitated after his being freed from the Tower. State Trials, p. 750.

Note IX.

Under the name of Judas, Dryden describes the famous Robert Ferguson, a native of Scotland, and, by profession, an independant preacher, and teacher of an academy at Islington.—Ath. Ox. Vol. II. p. 743. He was one of those dark, intriguing, subtile, and ferocious characters, that emerge into notice in times of turmoil and civil dissension, and whose appearance as certainly bodes revolution, as the gambols of the porpoise announce a tempest. Through the whole of his busy and desperate career, he appears to have been guided less by any principle, moral or political, than by the mere pleasure of dealing in matters deep and dangerous, and exerting his ingenuity to shake the quiet of the kingdom at the risk of his own neck. In organizing dark and bloody intrigues; in maintaining the courage of the zealots whom he engaged in them; in carrying on the mystic correspondence by which the different parts of the conspiracy were to be cemented and conjoined; in guarding against the risque of discovery, and, lastly, in effecting with nicety a hairbreadth escape when it had taken place,—all these perilous, dubious, and criminal manœuvres, at which the noble-minded revolt, and the peaceful are terrified, were the scenes in which the genius of Ferguson delighted to exert itself. When the magistracy of London was thrown into the hands of the crown, the charter annulled, and all means of accomplishing a revolution by the ancient existing authorities, were annihilated, such a character as Ferguson became of inestimable value to Shaftesbury, considering the new plans which he had in agitation, and the persons by whom they were to be accomplished. Accordingly, he shared much of that politician's confidence, while his influence, as a popular and violent preacher in the city, gave him every facility of selecting and training the persons fittest to assist in the meditated insurrection. His chapel, in Moorfields, was crowded with multitudes of fanatics, whom fired by his political sermons, and occasionally stimulated by libels and pamphlets, from a private press of which he had the management, as well as of a purse that maintained it. He distributed most of the pamphlets written on the Whig party, and was by no means averse to father even the most dangerous of them; his vanity, according to Burnet, getting the better of his prudence. Some notable pieces, however, of his composition, are still known; his style was of that diffuse, coarse, and periphrastic nature, best suited to the apprehension of the vulgar, upon whose dull intellects sentiments are always impressive, in proportion to the length of time they are forced to dwell on them. He wrote the "Appeal from the Country to the City," where, in plain words, he points out the Duke of Monmouth as successor to the crown, and that because he had a dubious, or rather no title at all to claim it. "No person is fitter than his Grace the Duke of Monmouth, as well for quality, courage, and conduct, as for that his life and fortune stand on the same bottom with yours. He will stand by you, and therefore you ought to stand by him. And remember the old rule is, He, that has the worst title, ever makes the best king; as being constrained, by a gracious government, to supply what he wants in title; that, instead of God and my right, his motto may be, God and my people." He proceeds to quote a historical example for putting Monmouth on the throne, under the tutelage of Shaftesbury, by stating that, after the death of Alexander, nothing would pacify the dissensions which ensued, "but the choosing of King Philip's illegitimate son, Aridæus, who, notwithstanding that he was a man but of reasonable parts himself, might, as they thought, perform the office well enough, by the help of his wise protector Perdiceas." This extraordinary piece is filled with the most violent declamations against the Papists, in that tawdry, bombastic, and inflammatory eloquence, wherewith, to speak according to Dryden's parable, he "tempted Jerusalem to sin."[419]

Ferguson also wrote the second part of "No Protestant Plot," another very violent pamphlet, and several treatises on the same subject. Meanwhile, other means were prepared to effect the desired change of government. It is not necessary to enter particularly into the well-known history of the Rye-house plot. Every body knows, that, while Russel, Sidney, Monmouth, and others, undertook to raise an insurrection in the country, Shaftesbury promised to head ten thousand brisk boys in the city of London. Among these brisk boys were a fanatic party, who agitated projects of assassinating the King and the Duke of York, unknown to the more generous nobles, who proposed only to secure the king's person. In all and each of these cabals, Ferguson acted a distinguished part. When Shaftesbury fled from his house into lurking places about Wapping, he trusted Ferguson with the secret of his residence, although concealed from the noble-minded Russel, and the generous Monmouth. By his intervention, he heartened and encouraged the associates to break forth into open insurrection. With the inferior conspirators, Ferguson was yet more intimate, and seems, in fact, to have given life to the vague and desperate plans of lopping, as they called the assassination of the royal brothers, by the countenance which he pretended to procure the conspirators from those of superior rank. He told West, he would procure the Duke of Monmouth's written consent to his father's murder; although he afterwards allowed, he durst not even mention such a plan to him. At length, when Shaftesbury, weary of the delays of the other conspirators, left England for ever, Ferguson and Walcot were the companions of his flight. By this the plan of insurrection was for a time confounded, for the higher order of the malcontents were ignorant of the lines of communication by which the city cabal was conducted. Ferguson was therefore recalled, and in an evil hour returned from Holland. His arrival gave new life both to the upper and inferior conspiracy: in the former, six of the leaders formed themselves into a regular committee, to extend their influence and correspondence through the kingdom, and unite measures with the disaffected in Scotland. The lower band of assassins matured and prepared their plan for assassinating the king and duke as they returned from Newmarket. Ferguson, who still acted in the capacity of treasurer, which Dryden has assigned him, paid for the arms provided for the enterprize; and, by his daring language, encouraged them to proceed. He offered, in mockery, to consecrate the blunderbuss with which Rumbold was to fire into the carriage; and when Sunday was fixed for the day of action, he quoted the old Scottish proverb, "the better day, the better deed." Even when, by the treachery of Keeling, the plot was finally discovered, and the conspirators were dispersing in dismay and terror, Ferguson took his leave of them with great gaiety, and, trusting to the plots of Argyle and Jerviswood, with which he was also intimate, told them, he hoped to meet them all at Dunbar. This indifference, at such a crisis, led to a supposition, that he had some secret correspondence with government: it was even said, that the messenger who arrested Ferguson suffered him to escape, but of this there seems no evidence. He retired to Holland, where he joined the unfortunate Monmouth, and was a principal agent in pushing him on to his western invasion, when, if left to himself, he would have remained in quiet. He drew the proclamation which Monmouth issued at his landing, a prolix, ill-worded production, stuffed with all the true, and all the false accusations against James II., and where the last so much drowned the others, that it was only calculated to make an impression on the lowest vulgar. He was always earnest with Monmouth, to take upon himself the title of king; and may be said to have contributed greatly to every false step which he made, and to the final destruction in which they ended. Of this Monmouth was so sensible, that he told the king in their last interview, "That Ferguson was chiefly the person who instigated him to set up his title of king, and had been a main adviser and contriver of the whole affair, as well to the attempting, as acting, what had been done;" but he had little to answer when Halifax expressed his surprise, that he should have given ear to him who, as he had long before told the late king, "was a bloody rogue, and always advised to the cutting of throats." Ferguson was taken, on this occasion, the third day after the battle of Sedgemore. Yet, when so much blood was spilt, both with, and without the forms of law, this man, who had been most active in the conspiracy against the king, when Duke of York, and had now organized an invasion and insurrection in his dominions, was, by the inexorable James, freely pardoned and dismissed, to council and assist the next conspiracy. Perhaps his life was saved by Sunderland, lest he had disclosed what he probably knew of his intercourse with the Prince of Orange, and even with Monmouth himself. Ferguson seems, on his liberation, to have returned to Holland; and did not fail to take a share in the intrigues which preceded the Revolution. He managed the dissenters for the interest of the Prince of Orange; and endeavoured to press upon William a sense of their importance. But other, and more important engines, were now at work; and Ferguson seems to have enjoyed but a subaltern consideration: Burnet, who made such a figure in the expedition, avers, he did not even know him by sight.[420] When the Prince of Orange was at Exeter, the dissenters refused him the keys of their meeting house. But Ferguson was accustomed to surmount greater obstacles. "I will take," said he, laughing, "the kingdom of heaven by storm," and broke open the door with his own hand. After the Revolution was accomplished, one would have thought Ferguson's machinations might have ended. He had seen his party triumphant; he had been rewarded with a good post;[421] and, what was probably dearer to him than either principle or profit, his intrigues had successfully contributed to the achievement of a great change of government. But it was not in his nature to be in repose; and, having spent all the former part of his life in caballing to drive James from the throne, he now engaged with the same fervour in every conspiracy for his restoration. In the very year which succeeded that of the Revolution, we find him deeply engaged with Sir James Montgomery, and the other Scottish presbyterians, who, discontented with King William, had united with the Jacobites. The Marquis of Anandale having absconded on account of his share in this conspiracy, Ferguson secreted him for several weeks; a kindness which the Marquis repaid, by betraying him to government.[422] With his usual good fortune, he was dismissed; either in consideration of former services, or because a full proof against him was not to be obtained. After this, he continued to engage in every plot against the government; and each year published one or two pamphlets, which put his ears, if not his neck, in peril. His last grand exhibition was an attack upon Trenchard, the secretary of state, for the use of blank and general warrants.[423] But that adventure, as the romance writers say, was reserved for another demagogue. Finally, Ferguson, who had in this remarkable manner kept his promise of being engaged in every conspiracy of his time, and, had gained the honourable epithet of "The Plotter," died quietly, and in peace, after having repeatedly seen the scaffold stream with the blood of the associates of his various machinations. One touch alone softens the character of this extraordinary incendiary. In all his difficulties, he is never charged with betraying his associates. His person is thus remarkably described in the proclamation for apprehending his person, among the other Rye-house assassins.

A description of several of the conspirators that are fled. London Gazette, from August 2d, to August 6th, 1683.

"Robert Ferguson, a tall lean man, dark-brown hair, a great Roman nose, thin jawed, heat in his face, speaks in the Scotch tone, a sharp piercing eye, stoops a little in the shoulders. He has a shuffling gait, that differs from all men; wears his periwig down almost over his eyes; about 45 or 46 years old."

Note X.

Of James Forbes I can give but a slight account. He was placed by the Duke of Ormond as travelling tutor to the young Earl of Derby, who had married his grand-daughter. Carte says, he was a gentleman of parts, virtue, and prudence, but of too mild a nature to manage his pupil. In Paris the earl addicted himself to the society of one Merrit, a worthless profligate; and the governor having cautioned his charge against this acquaintance, was assaulted at disadvantage by Merrit, and dangerously wounded. Lord Derby, it seems, not only countenanced Merrit's assault upon Mr Forbes, but, at the instigation of some young French rakes, consented to his governor's being tossed in a blanket. The Duke of Ormond, finding that the earl was wild and impatient of restraint, and that his tutor's sage remonstrances had but little effect, recalled Forbes, and sent in his stead Colonel Thomas Fairfax, a gallant and brave man, and roughly honest. Lord Derby was at first restiff; but Fairfax telling him plainly, that he was sent to govern him, and would govern him, and that his lordship must submit, and should do it, the young nobleman had the sense to comply, broke off his evil acquaintances, and behaved ever after with great propriety.[424] Forbes's misadventures in Paris, though, according to Carte, they inferred no real dishonour, are severely alluded to by Dryden in the text. I am not anxious to unrip the ancient chronicle of scandal, in order to trace Phaleg's amours. He appears to have become one of Monmouth's dependants.

Note XI.

The Reverend Samuel Johnson, a party-writer of considerable merit. He was a native of Warwickshire, and took orders after a regular course of study at Cambridge. He obtained the small living of Curingham, in Essex, by the patronage of a Mr Biddolph. The emoluments of this benefice did not exceed eighty pounds a-year; and it was the only church preferment he ever enjoyed. Dryden alludes to his poverty in describing his original situation. Mr Johnson's patron, observing his turn for politics, exhorted him to study the English constitution in Bracton and Fortescue; but by no means to make his sermons the vehicle for his political sentiments. The opinions which he formed in the course of study, were such as recommended him as chaplain to the famous Lord Russell.

While he was in this situation, and during the dependance of the Bill of Exclusion, he endeavoured at once to show the danger to a national religion from a sovereign who held opposite tenets, and to explode the doctrine of passive obedience, in a work entitled, "Julian the Apostate; with a short Account of his Life, and a Parallel betwixt Popery and Paganism." In this performance, according to Wood, he was assisted by Thomas Hunt the lawyer. This book, which made a good deal of noise at the time, was answered by the learned Hickes, in a treatise called "Jovian," in which, according to Anthony a Wood, the doctor hath, with unquestionable clearness, laid open the folly, "ignorance, weakness, and pernicious drift of that traitorous scribbler." Without entering into the controversy, there can be little doubt, that, so far as the argument from the example of the primitive Christians is sound, Johnson has fairly made out his case. Indeed Dryden has little left to say, except, that if they did resist Julian, which he seems to admit, they were very wrong in so doing, and the less that is said about it, the more will be the credit of the ancient church. Johnson prepared a reply to "Jovian," called, the "Arts of Julian to undermine Christianity;" but the Rye-house Plot having intervened, he did not judge it prudent to publish it. He was called before the Privy Council, who insisted upon knowing why this book, which had been entered at Stationers Hall, was not published? His answer alleged, that the ferment of the nation was so great as to render the further discussion of the question imprudent. They then demanded a copy of the book; and added, that, if they approved it, it should be published. To this insidious proposal he boldly replied, that, having suppressed the book, it only contained his private thoughts, which he could be compelled to disclose to no man on earth. For this answer he was committed to prison, and his house searched for the copies, which had fortunately been bestowed elsewhere. The court finding themselves unable to reach Johnson for not publishing his second work, determined to try him for publishing his first. Accordingly, he was brought to the bar and insulted by Jefferies, who told him, he would give him a text, "Let every man study to be quiet, and mind his own business."—"I minded my business as an Englishman," answered this spirited man, "when I wrote that book." All defence was in vain; he was condemned to a heavy fine, and to lie in jail till it was paid, which in his circumstances was equal to a sentence of perpetual imprisonment. Even from his prison house, where he lay for five years, amid the accumulated distresses of sickness and poverty, he let his countrymen hear his voice, and failed not to enter an animated and vigorous protest against each new encroachment upon the liberty and religion of England.[425] At length, having published "An humble and hearty Address to all the English Protestants in this present Army,"[426] exhorting them not to serve as instruments to eradicate their religion and enslave their country, he again fell under the grasp of power, was tried and sentenced to be thrice pilloried, and whipped from Newgate to Tyburn; having been previously degraded from his ecclesiastical orders. He bore both the previous ceremony of degradation, and the cruel punishment which followed, with the greatest magnanimity. When they disrobed him, he told the divines present, that he could not but grieve, since all he had written was to keep the gowns on their backs, they should nevertheless be the unhappy instruments to pull off his. When they put a Bible into his hand as a part of the formality of degradation, and again took it from him, he was much affected, and said with tears, they could not, however, deprive him of the use and benefit of that sacred deposit.[427] On the 1st of December, 1686, he suffered the remainder of his inhuman sentence; the pain being his, but the infamy that of the persons who imposed it.

After the Revolution, the proceedings against this staunch patriot were declared illegal; and he received a pension of L.300 yearly, with L.1000 in money, and a post for his son. Crewe, Bishop of Durham, who acted as one of the commissioners for discharging the duty of the Bishop of London, and as such was active in Mr Johnson's degradation, compounded with him against a suit at law, by payment of a handsome sum. Yet Johnson's dangers were not over; for, such was the enmity of the adherents of King James against him, that a party of desperate assassins broke into his house by night, beat, wounded, and threatened to pistol him, for the books he had written; but, upon his wife's intreaties, at length desisted from their bloody design. The latter part of his days were spent in quietness and independence.

The reader may contrast the character which Dryden has given of Johnson, with that of Hampden, who, in an account of him to the Duchess of Mazarine, says; "Being two years with him in the same prison, I had the opportunity to know him perfectly well; and, to speak my thoughts of him in one word, I can assure your Grace, that I never knew a man of better sense, of a more innocent life, nor of greater virtue, which was proof against all temptation, than Mr Johnson."—See Memorials of his Life prefixed to his Works in folio.

Note XII.

The famous Gilbert Burnet was then lecturer at St Clements, and preacher at the Rolls chapel, under the patronage of Sir Harbottle Grimstone, Master of the Rolls. King Charles was so anxious that he should be dismissed, as to make it his particular request to Sir Harbottle; but the Master excused himself. It was here he preached that famous sermon on the day of the Gunpowder Treason, 5th November, 1684, when he chose for his text, "Save me from the lion's mouth, thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns;" which, in spite of the doctor's protestations to the contrary, certain suspicious persons considered as an allusion to the supporters of the king's arms. For this he was finally disgraced, and turned out of the chapel of the Rolls. See note on the Buzzard, in the "Hind and Panther."

Note XIII.

Samuel Pordage, a minor poet and dramatist of the time, drew this passing sarcasm on his person and pedigree, by a stupid poem, called "Azariah and Hushai," published 1681-2; being an attempt to imitate or answer "Absalom and Achitophel:" with what success the reader may judge, from the following character of Dryden:

He also stepped forward to break a lance with our author, on the subject of Shaftesbury's acquittal; and answered the "Medal" by a very stupid poem, called the "Medal Reversed." To all this scurrilous doggrel, Dryden only replied by the single couplet above quoted. He calls Mephibosheth "the wizard's son," because the Reverend John Pordage, vicar of Bradfield, in Berkshire, and father of the poet, Samuel, was ejected from his cure by the commissioners of Berkshire, for conversation with evil spirits, and for blasphemy, ignorance, scandalous behaviour, devilism, uncleanness, and heaven knows what. His case of insufficiency is among the State Trials, from which he seems to have been a crazy enthusiast, who believed in a correspondence with genii and dæmons.

Samuel Pordage was a member of the society of Lincoln's Inn. He wrote three plays, namely, the "Troades," translated from Seneca, "Herod and Mariamne," and "The Siege of Babylon." He also published a romance called "Eliana," and prepared a new edition of "God's Revenge against Murder," which was published after his death. Pordage was, moreover, author of "Heroic Stanzas on his Majesty's Coronation, 1661," and probably of other occasional pieces, deservedly doomed to oblivion.

Note XIV.

Jack Hall, ranked as a sort of third-rate poet and courtier among the minor wits of the time. In the "Essay on Satire," he is mentioned as a companion of "little Sid, for simile renowned." Whether we suppose Sidley, or Sidney, to be represented under that character, as they were both at present in the country party, it is possible that Jack Hall went into opposition with his friend and admirer. See the note upon Hall, appended to the "Essay on Satire."

Note XV.

Elkanah Settle, whose original quarrel with our author is detailed in the introductory remarks to their prose controversy, had now further incensed him, by tergiversation in politics: For Elkanah, although originally a Tory, was induced, probably by his connections as poet-laureat for the city, to go over to the party of Monmouth and Shaftesbury.[429] His new friends made use of his talents in a two-fold capacity. Shaftesbury employed him to write a pamphlet in favour of the Exclusion, entitled, "The Character of a Popish Successor." When Settle afterwards recanted, he said, this piece, which made some noise at the time, was retouched by "his noble friend in Aldersgate Street," whose only objection was, that it was not sufficiently violent in favour of insurrection. Settle, having a mechanical turn, was also employed as chief engineer at the solemn pope-burning, which we have so often mentioned; in which charge he acquitted himself much to the satisfaction of his employers. On account of his literary and mechanical merits, Sir Roger L'Estrange allots him the double office of poet-laureat and master of the ordnance to the Whig faction, in the following passage of a dialogue between Jest and Earnest:

"Jest. For instance, I knew a lusty fellow, who would not willingly be thought valiant,[430] who has an indifferent hand at making of crackers, serpents, rockets, and the other playthings that are proper on the 5th of November; and has for such his skill received applause, and victuals, from the munificent gentlemen about Temple-bar.

"Earnest. And he, I'll warrant, is made master of the ordnance?

"Jest. True; and I think him very fit for it. But he's like to have another employment, of a strangely different nature; for, because this dull wretch, once upon a time, wrote a fulsomely nonsensical poem, in prose, being a character of a bugbear, he, forsooth, is designed poet-laureat too!

"Earnest. These two offices, as you say, one would think, should require diverse accomplishments: But then it may be said, that these may well enough be supplied by one man; the poet to make ballads in peace, and betake himself to his other business in war.

"Jest. Nay, his squibs and his poems have much what the same fortune; they crack and bounce, and the boys and girls laugh at them.

"Earnest. Well, how great are the advantages! I thought the author of the satyric work upon the "Observator," and Heraclitus, or the Person of Honour, that obliged the pie-folks with poetical reflections upon "Absalom and Achitophel;" I say, I thought these forsaken scribblers might have bid fairest for the evergreen twig.

"Jest. I thought so too; but hunger will break stone-walls. Elk. promises to vindicate Lucifer's first rebellion for a few guineas. Poor Absalom and Achitophel must e'en hide themselves in the Old Testament again; and I question whether they'll be safe there from the fury of this mighty Cacadoggin.

"Earnest. Silly chit! has he not learned the apologue of the Serpent and the File? But fare him well."—Heraclitus Redens, No. 50.

From the last part of this passage, it appears that Settle was then labouring upon his answer to "Absalom and Achitophel," for which Dryden condemned him to a disgraceful immortality. At length he came forth with "Absalom Senior, or Achitophel Transprosed."[431]

In this piece Dryden's plan is followed, by applying the names and history of scripture to modern persons and events. Thus, Queen Elizabeth is Deborah, and Sir Francis Drake, Barak; the Papists are the worshippers of Baal, and the Duke of York is Absalom. This circumstance did not escape the wit of Dryden, who says of Settle, in the text,

Indeed, Elkanah seems himself to have been sensible of the absurdity of this personification, by which the king's brother, almost as old as himself, was converted into the blooming son of David; and apologizes, in his preface addressed to the Tories, for "the freedom of clapping but about a score of years extraordinary on the back of Absalom. Neither is it," he continues, "altogether so unpardonable a poetical licence; since we find as great slips from the author of your own 'Absalom,' where we see him bring in a Zimri into the court of David, who, in the scripture story, died by the hand of Phineas, in the days of Moses.[432] Nay, in the other extreme, we find him, in another place, talking of the martyrdom of Stephen, so many ages after; and, if so famous an author can forget his own rules of unity, time, and place, I hope you'll give a minor poet some grains of allowance."

Sir E. Godfrey's murder is disguised under that of Amnon, Tamar's rape being explained the discovery of the plot:

As Settle's poems have long fallen into total oblivion, from which his name has only been rescued by the satirical pen of Dryden, and as he was once thought no unequal rival for that great poet, the reader may be curious to see a specimen of his style; I have therefore inserted the few of the leading characters of "Absalom Senior," in which he has "rhymed and rattled" with most tolerable success.

The ungainly appearance, uncouth delivery, and versatile politics of the famous Duke of Lauderdale, are thus described:

But, as was reasonably to be expected, Settle has exerted his whole powers of satire and poetry in the description of his antagonist Dryden: And here let me remark, that almost all the adversaries of our author commence their attack, by an unwilling compliment to his poetical powers:

Settle's end was utterly inglorious. In 1683, he deserted the cause of the Whigs, and returned to that of the Tories; for whom he wrote several periodical tracts, in one of which, entitled, "A Narrative," he accused his old patron Shaftesbury of correcting the famous "Character of a Popish Successor;" and objecting, that it did not speak favourably enough of rebellion.[435] Whether compelled by poverty, or through zeal for the royal cause, he became a trooper in King James's army, when it was encamped on Hounslow-Heath.[436] Finally, he took the prophetic hint conveyed in Dryden's lines, and became, not indeed the master, but the assistant, to a puppet-show, kept by a Mrs Minns, in Bartholomew-fair. Thus, the expression, which Dryden had chiefly used in contemptuous allusion to the share which Settle had in directing the Pope-burning, and the fire-works which accompanied it, was literally fulfilled.[437] Nay, poor Elkanah, in his old age, was at length obliged not only to write for the puppet-show, but to appear in it as a performer, inclosed in a case representing a green dragon of his own proper device. There are few readers, who need to be reminded of Pope's famous lines,—

In the close of life, this veteran scribbler found admission to the Charter-house; and in that hospital, in the year 1724, died the rival of Dryden.

In person, Elkanah Settle was tall, red-faced, and wore a satin cap over his short black hair.

Note XVI.

Our author had very shortly before the publication of the second part of "Absalom and Achitophel," made his enemy, Shadwell, the subject of a separate and cutting personal satire, called "Mac Flecnoe." That poem, as we have noticed in the introductory remarks, has reference principally to the literary character of his adversary; while, in the lines which follow, he considers him chiefly as a political writer, and factionary of the popular party. Shadwell's corpulence, his coarse and brutal debauchery, his harsh and clumsy style of poetry, fell under the lash on both occasions; and it is astonishing, with what a burning variety of colours these qualities are represented. The history of his literary disputes with Dryden may be perused in the introduction to "Mac Flecnoe." In the "Vindication of the Duke of Guise," Dryden has also given a severe flagellation to his corpulent adversary, in which he says, "that although Shadwell has often called him an atheist in print, he believes more charitably of his antagonist, and that he only goes the broad way, because the other is too narrow for him."

Besides avenging abundance of personal abuse, Dryden, in the person of Shadwell, chastises a great supporter of the Whig cause and principles. Shadwell himself complains, that, in the days of Charles and James, he "was silenced for a non-conformist poet." He was the chief among the "corrector-men," as the authors and publishers of the Whig party were oddly entitled;[438] and received the reward of his principles at the Revolution, succeeding, as is well known, our author in the office of poet laureat. In the epilogue to the "Volunteers," a play of Shadwell's, acted after his death, the friends of the Revolution are called upon to applaud their favourite bard's last production:

Note XVII.

The reader will find some account of the King's Head Club, Vol. VII. p. 154. North gives the following lively account of the vulgar, as he calls them, of the popular faction. Their employ, according to him, was, "to run about whispering here and there, by which management they kept up the spirits of their fools, whose fire, without a continual pabulum of fresh news, talks, and hopes, would go out. Amongst these, the cues and hints went about; honest, drunken, lying fellows, good company, and always dear friends. A nod, with a wink, had a notable signification, if it followed, 'Have patience, you shall see.'—'I know somewhat extraordinary will be done shortly and soon, which will secure all on our side.' And thus passively wicked were these underlings, or fry of the party: they knew of the intrigue no more, and were concerned as the wood of drums and the brass of trumpets are in the war."[439]—"The pastime of this meeting, called the Club, was very engaging to young gentlemen, and one, who had once tasted the conversation, could scarcely ever quit it. For some or others were continually coming and going, to import or export news or stories, as the trade required and afforded. There it was known in half an hour, what any member said at the committee of elections, or in the house, if it sat late. And every post carried the news and tales legitimated there, as also the malign constructions of all the good actions of the government, especially to places where elections were depending to shape men's characters into fit qualifications to be chosen or rejected. The Pope himself could not make saints so readily as they Papists, and so half-three-quarter Papists, as belief was prompt or difficult. And a lewd atheistical fellow was as readily washed clean, and made a zealous Protestant. For that genus of perfection was not wanted in this dispensation, where no vice, immorality, heresy, atheism, or blasphemous wit, had not professors ready to embrace willing disciples, who, for the sake of such sublimities of wit and sense as they were accounted, were ready to prostitute all principles of duty, and especially those that regarded allegiance to the crown."[440]

The well-known distinction of this famous club was a green ribband: in opposition to which, the Tories wore in their hats a scarlet ribband, with the motto, Rex et Hæredes. The prologue to "Anna Bullen" very sensibly expostulates against these party badges:

Sir William Waller, son of the parliamentary general of the same name, distinguished himself during the time of the Popish plot, by an uncommon decree of bustling activity. He was a justice of peace; and, unawed by the supposed fate of his brother in the commission, and in knighthood, Sir Edmondbury Godfrey, he stood forth the bold investigator of this bottomless conspiracy. It was he who had the fortune, by the assistance of Captain Dangerfield, to detect what was called the Meal-Tub Plot, which that fellow, who had been trafficking with both factions, and probably meant to cheat both, chose to represent as a sham conspiracy, contrived to ruin Shaftesbury and his friends. Upon this occasion, Sir William had much closeting with a magnanimous midwife, called Mrs Cellier, whom Dangerfield charged as an agent of the court, and who afterwards alleged, that the knight took some uncommon means to extort confessions from her. Sir William Waller was also the person who discovered Fitzharris's Plot; and he intimated, that the king, who intended to turn it upon the Protestants, was so much displeased with his blowing up the project, that he threatened to have him assassinated. The Tories alleged, that the pleasure of making these discoveries was not Sir William's sole reward, any more than zeal was his only motive for gutting the Popish chapels. "In which," says North, "he proceeded with such scandalous rigour, as to bring forth the pictures and other furniture of great value, and burn them publicly; which gave occasion to suspect, and some said positively, that, under this pretence, he kept good things for himself; in a word, he was called the priest-catcher."[441] Anthony Wood joins in the accusation of his rifling the Papists' houses of goods, and appropriating chapel ornaments as popish trinkets. I find that respectable person, Miles Prance, the witness, enters into a solemn vindication of the justice, from the practices alleged by North, Wood, and by the poet. "Another damnable scandal they have broached, which, though it be principally levelled at Sir William Waller, as if he, under pretence of searching for priests, and seizing popish trinkets, should take away money, plate, and other things of value from the owners, and necklaces of pearl for beads; yet, since I very frequently went along with him, it does obliquely reflect upon me, and I cannot but do that worthy gentleman the right to justify him against such a most false, groundless, and malicious slander: I do therefore declare, in the presence of God, and shall be ready to attest upon oath, that whensoever I attended him in searches, which was almost every day, I could never discover in him the least inclination to any such base practices; but that, to the contrary, he behaved himself as a good Christian and just magistrate; for, wherever we came, what money we found was left in the owner's possession; and as for chalices, and pieces of plate belonging to priests, and used in their mass, or for keeping of holy oil, we did indeed batter or break them to pieces, but always returned all the pieces to the proprietors. But their copes and priestly vestments, superstitious pictures, habits of monks belonging to their peculiar orders, and such like trumpery, we did sometimes take away, and cause them to be publicly burned, never making any advantage thereof. And as to any necklaces of pearl, reported to be by him taken away, I am more than confident the same is as arrand a lie, as that he thought one Bedingfield, whom he took at Newark, to have been the same Bedingfield, who died in the Gatehouse; for he well knew it was another man."[442] Prance confirms this attestation by a special case, in which Sir William returned to a priest, not only his money, but a silver tobacco-box.[443]

Derrick mentions Sir William standing candidate, in 1679, to be a member of Parliament, in which he failed; and adds, that the publicans, who trusted him, found much ado to get their money. When the court party gained an ascendance, Sir William Waller was first struck out of the commission, and afterwards committed to prison, to the great triumph of the Tories.[444] He afterwards went to Holland, and with Robert Ferguson and Bethel is specially excepted from the general pardon granted after Monmouth's defeat. Ralph, Vol. I. p. 918.

Note XIX.

The Whigs of those days had constant recourse to the desperate remedy of refusing supplies, when dissatisfied with the court. This ultimate measure ought only to be adopted in cases of extremity; because the want of means to maintain the usual current expences for the law, and the defence of the country, gives a perilous shock to the whole system of government. At that time, however, it was held so effectual a check, and so necessary, that the Whig citizens, in a paper of instructions furnished to their representatives in 1680-1, having thanked them for their good service, more especially for their zeal for the Exclusion Bill, proceed to recommend, "that they would still literally pursue the same measures, and grant no supplies to the crown, till they saw themselves effectually secured from popery and arbitrary power."

Note XX.

In 1678-9, when the plot hung like a comet over England, the king thought it necessary to assent to the counsel of the Earl of Danby, and request the Duke of York to give way to the storm, and silence the popular clamour, by retreating for a season to the Continent. The Duke requested a particular order, lest it should be supposed he fled from a consciousness of guilt. The order was in these words: "I have already given you my resolution at large, why I think it fit that you absent yourself some time beyond the seas. As I am truly sorry for the occasion, so you may be sure I shall never desire it longer than it may be absolutely necessary for your good and my service. In the meantime, I think proper to give it you under my hand, that I expect this compliance from you, and desire it may be as soon as conveniently you can. You may easily perceive with what trouble I write this to you, there being nothing I am more sensible of than the kindness you have ever had for me. I hope you are as just to me, as to be assured, that no absence, nor any thing else, can ever change me from being truly and kindly yours, C. R. February 28th 1678-9." Superscribed, "For my most dear friend the Duke of York."

Authors differ concerning the "store of parting tears," which were shed on the separation of the royal brothers. Burnet says, that the duke wept much, but the king did not seem affected. Others affirm, that both brothers testified much emotion. The duke retired to Brussels, where he remained till the time of the king's illness, so often mentioned.

Note XXI.

That Charles II. was a pensioner of France, is now generally allowed. But, though Louis was willing to afford the king of England such supplies as to save him from the necessity of throwing himself on his parliament, it was equally his policy to foster such opposition to him in that assembly, as might totally engage the eyes of both parties upon domestic feuds, and withdraw them from marking his own ambitious strides towards universal power. For this it was necessary, that his minister Barillon should have an understanding with the leaders of the popular party. Hence each faction, as truly as loudly, accused the other of the unworthy dependence on France, to which both were in secret reduced. An account of the French intrigues with the popular party, and of the money distributed among their chiefs, may be found in Dalrymple's Memoirs.

Note XXII.

In some respects, the presence of the Duke of York in Scotland was very acceptable to the nobles and gentry of that kingdom. There is, among Somers' Tracts, a letter from a person of quality in Scotland, who professes, that, although a zealous Protestant, he had been converted from his opinion in favour of the Bill of Exclusion, by "the personal knowledge of his very many excellencies and virtues." Doubtless, many circumstances drew the Scots to the faction and favour of the Duke. They saw the halls of their ancient palace again graced with the appearance of royalty, and occupied by a descendant of their long line of kings. The formal, grave, and stately decorum of James, was more suitable to the manners of a proud, reserved, and somewhat pedantic people, than the lighter manners of Charles. The proud, as well as the ingenious, know, and feel, the value of favours conferred by those who resemble them. York applied himself particularly to secure the personal attachment of the Highland chiefs, and to staunch the feuds by which their clans were divided. He, no doubt, reckoned upon the assistance of these ready warriors, in case the sword had been drawn in England; but he little foresaw, that the last hopes of his family were to depend on the generous attachment of the descendants of the chieftains whom he then cultivated, and that his race were to involve in their fall the ruin of the patriarchal and feudal power of these faithful adherents. But if the conduct of James in these particulars was laudable, on the other hand, by introducing an inconsistent and absurd test into the law, by making it the means of ruining a loyal and innocent nobleman, the Earl of Argyle, by satiating his own eyes with the tortures inflicted on the Covenanters,—he gave tokens of that ill-judged and bigotted severity, which was the cause of his being precipitated from the throne. Settle gives a juster, if a less poetical, account of the manner in which he spent his exile:

Admiral Legge, created Earl of Dartmouth by Charles II., and a particular friend of the Duke of York. When James came to the throne, he loaded Dartmouth with favours, and paid a singular testimony to the family loyalty, celebrated in the text. In 1687, while the earl attended the king on his progress, the city of Coventry presented his majesty with a massive gold cup, which he instantly delivered to Lord Dartmouth, telling him, it was an acknowledgement from the city for the sufferings of his father, who had long lain in jail there, on account of his adherence to the king during the civil wars. In the succeeding year, Dartmouth was made admiral of the fleet of England. He was, perhaps, the worthiest man, and most faithful servant, in the court of King James, whom he truly loved and served, though he disapproved of his arbitrary encroachments, and spoke his mind on the subject without fear or scruple. Although a hereditary enemy of Lord Russell, Dartmouth had the generosity to interfere in his favour. He set sail from Torbay, with the English fleet, to intercept that of the Prince of Orange, at the time of the Revolution. Had they met, a bloody action must have been the consequence; but God ordered it otherwise. The same wind, which carried the Dutch fleet into Torbay, forced back the English to the Downs; and before Dartmouth could again put to sea, the officers and sailors were as unwilling to resist the Prince of Orange, as the nobles and land army. When Lord Dartmouth found it was entirely out of his power to serve King James, he called a council of war, and joined in an address to King William. In 1691-2, he was committed to the Tower, on suspicion of holding correspondence with his old master.

Note XXIV.

General Edward Sackville, a gentleman of good quality, related to the Dorset family, who had served at Tangier with great reputation, both for courage and judgment. Being a particular friend of the Duke of York, he expressed himself very contemptuously concerning the Popish conspiracy, saying, "they were sons of whores who believed there was a plot, and he was a lying rogue that said it." The Commons, being then in the very height of their fermentation on this subject, not only expelled Sackville from the House, but prepared an address to the king, that he might be made incapable of holding any office. He was committed to the Tower, but shortly afterwards set free, and restored to his military rank, though not to his seat in the House. After noticing Dartmouth, Sackville, and the other real friends of the Duke of York, the poet stigmatizes those concealed enemies, who now affected to congratulate his return:

A marginal note on Luttrell's copy points out the Earl of Anglesea as particularly concerned in this sarcasm. In a prologue, spoken before the duke at his first appearance at the theatre after his return, Dryden is equally severe on these time-serving courtiers:

Note XXV.

The Duke of York maintained some interest in the city, by being captain-general of the Artillery Company, who invited him to dine at Merchant-Taylors' Hall, on April 21, 1682. The party of Monmouth and Shaftesbury resolved to have a meeting in opposition to that which was proposed; and tickets, at a guinea a piece, of which the following is a copy, were circulated among their adherents:

"It having pleased Almighty God, by his wonderful providence, to deliver and protect his majesties person, the Protestant religion, and English liberties, hitherto from the hellish and frequent attempts of their enemies the Papists; in testimony of thankfulness herein, and for the preserving and improving mutual love and charity among such as are sensible thereof, you are desired to meet many of the loyal Protestant nobility, gentry, clergy, and citizens, on Friday the 21st day of this instant April, 1682, at ten of the clock, at St Michael's Church, in Cornhill, there to hear a sermon, and from thence to go to Haberdashers' Hall, to dinner, and to bring this ticket with you."

A sermon was accordingly prepared for this great occasion;[445] and doubtless contained what is vulgarly called a touch of the times. All other preparations for this great entertainment were made with proper magnificence; but the design was utterly quashed by the following proclamation:

"Whitehall, April 19. His Majesty was pleased, this afternoon, to make the following order in council, at the court of Whitehall, this 19th day of April, 1682. By his Majesty, and the Lords of his Majesty's most honourable privy council.

"Whereas, the appointing of publique fasts and thanksgiving is matter of state, and belongs only to his majesty, by his prerogative, and his majesty being informed that, in the city of London, invitations have been made of great and unusual numbers, by printed tickets, one of which is hereunto annext; his majesty looks upon the same as an insolent attempt, in manifest derogation of his right, and of dangerous consequence: The matter of the said invitation being of a publique nature, and the manner of carrying it on, tending to sedition, and raising distinctions and confederacies among his subjects, against the known laws and peace of the kingdom, his majesty, therefore, by the advice of his council, hath thought fit, and doth hereby strictly charge and command the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, as they will answer the contrary at their peril, to take immediate and effectual care to prevent and hinder the said meeting, as an unlawful assembly; and all sheriffs, constables, and others his majesty's officers in the said city, are hereby commanded to be aiding and assisting therein."

This disappointment, trifling as it may seem, was of great disadvantage to the Whigs. It made them ridiculous; which is more fatal to a political party than any other misfortune; for few chuse to belong to the faction who have the laugh against them. The Tory poets exulted in the opportunity of showing their wit; and we have perpetual allusions to this ludicrous incident, in the fugitive pieces of the time. Thus, Otway, in the prologue to the "City Heiress, or Sir Timothy Treatall:"

In a congratulatory poem on the Whigs entertainment, we have a similar strain of exultation, though, I believe, it is there ironical:

"The Loyal Feast, appointed to be kept in Haberdashers' Hall, on Friday the 21st of April, 1682, by his Majesty's most loyal true-blue Protestant Subjects, and how it was defeated."

Note XXVI.

The Marquis of Worcester, Lord President of Wales, was a keen opponent of the Bill of Exclusion; insomuch, that, by a vote of the Commons in 1680, he was declared a favourer of Popery, (then an imputation of tremendous import,) and an address was appointed to be preferred against him, Halifax, Clarendon, and others, as enemies to the king and kingdom. It may be supposed, that this was far from lowering the marquis in the king's esteem; on the contrary, in 1682, he was created Duke of Beaufort. At the Duke of Monmouth's invasion he commanded in Bristol, and was an effectual means of stopping his progress; for, when he approached that city, which contained many of his partisans, the Duke of Beaufort, finding there was great danger of an insurrection in the place, declared, that he would burn the town the instant he saw the slightest symptoms of disloyalty. When this was made known to Monmouth, he exclaimed, "God forbid I should be the means of exposing so noble a city to the double calamity of sword and fire!" Accordingly, he instantly altered the direction of his march, leaving behind him that rich and populous city, which, if he could have carried it, contained men to increase his forces, stores to supply them, arms to equip them, and money to pay them. This proved a fatal indulgence of compassion:

The Duke of Beaufort continued to be a friend to James, after, by abdicating his throne, he had ceased to be a friend to himself. He voted against William in the Convention Parliament. Lord Herbert, of Ragland, the duke's eldest son, in whom he "saw all his glories copied," as the poet has it, was, according to Wood, entered at Christ Church, Oxford, and took the degree of Master of Arts in 1681.

An account of the Duke of Beaufort's noble house-keeping, and mode of educating his family, has been preserved by Roger North, and presents so curious a picture of the interior of a great family, in the end of the 17th century, that I think the reader will be pleased to see it:

"One year his lordship, (the Lord Chief Justice North, afterwards Lord Keeper Guilford,) concluding at Bristol, made a visit at Badminton to the Duke of Beaufort, and staid about a week. For the duke was descended from a North of his lordship's family, viz. one of the Lord Edward North's daughters, whom a lineal ancestor of his Grace married. So, besides conformity of principle, with respect to the public, they were, by this relation, qualified for mutual respect and honour. I mention this entertainment as an handle of shewing a princely way of living, which that noble duke used, above any other, except crowned heads, that I have had notice of in Europe; and, in some respects, greater than most of them, to whom he might have been an example. He had above L. 2000 per annum in his hands, which he managed by stewards, bailiffs, and servants; and, of that, a great part of the country, which was his own, lying round about him, was part, and the husbandmen, &c. were of his family, and provided for in his large expanded house. He bred all his horses, which came to the husbandry first colts, and, from thence, as they were fit, were taken into his equipage; and, as by age, or accident, they grew unfit for that service, they were returned to the place from whence they came, and there expired; except what, for plenty or unfitness, were sold or disposed of. He had about two hundred persons in his family, all provided for, and, in his capital house, nine original tables covered every day: and, for the accommodation of so many, a large hall was built, with a sort of alcove at one end, for distinction; but yet the whole lay in the view of him that was chief, who had power to do what was proper for keeping order amongst them; and it was his charge to see it done. The tables were properly assigned, as, for example, the chief steward with the gentlemen and pages; the master of the horse with the coachmen and liveries; an under steward with the bailiffs and some husbandmen; the clerk of the kitchen with the bakers, brewers, &c. all together; and other more inferior people, under these, in places apart. The women had their dining-room also, and were distributed in like manner: my lady's chief woman with the gentlewomen; the housekeeper with the maids, and some others. The method of governing this great family was admirable and easy, and such as might have been a pattern for any management whatever; for, if the Duke or Duchess (who concerned herself much more than he did; for every day of her life, in the morning, she took her tour, and visited every office about the house, and so was her own superintendant) observed any thing amiss or suspicious, as a servant riding out, or the like, nothing was said to that servant, but his immediate superior, or one of an higher order, was sent for, who was to enquire and answer if leave had been given, or not; if not, such servant was straight turned away. No fault of order was passed by; for it may be concluded, there are enough of them that pass undiscovered. All the provisions of the family came from foreign parts, as merchandize. Soap and candle were made in the house, so likewise the malt was ground there; and all the drink that came to the duke's table, was of malt sun-dried upon the leads of his house. Those are large; and the lanthorn is in the centre of an asterisk of glades, cut through the wood of all the country round, four or five in a quarter, almost a perte de vue. Diverse of the gentlemen cut their trees and hedges to humour his vistos; and some planted their hills in his lines, for compliment, at their own charge. All the trees, planted in his parks and about, were fenced with a dry wall of stone, taken out where the tree was set. And with all this menagery and provision, no one, that comes and goes for visits, or affairs with the duke, (who was lord-lieutenant of four or five counties, and Lord President of Wales,) that could observe any thing more to do there than in any other nobleman's house; so little of vain ostentation was to be seen there. At the entrance where coaches ordinarily came in, the duke built a neat dwelling-house; but pompous stables, which would accommodate forty horses, as well as the best stables he had. This was called the inn, and was contrived for the ease of the suitors, as I may call them; for, instead of half-a-crown to his servants at taking horse, sixpence there, for form, served the turn; and no servant of his came near a gentleman's horse; but they were brought by their own servants, except such as lodged, whose equipages were in his own stables.

"As for the duke and duchess, and their friends, there was no time of the day without diversion. Breakfast in her gallery, that opened into the gardens; then perhaps a deer was to be killed, or the gardens and parks, with the several sorts of deer, to be visited; and if it required mounting, horses of the duke's were brought for all the company. And so, in the afternoon, when the ladies were disposed to air, and the gentlemen with them, coaches and six came to hold them all. At half an hour after eleven, the bell rang to prayers, so at six in the evening; and, through a gallery, the best company went into an aisle in the church, (so near was it,) and the duke and duchess could see if all the family were there. The ordinary pastime of the ladies was in a gallery on the other side, where she had diverse gentlewomen commonly at work upon embroidery and fringe-making; for all the beds of state were made and finished in the house. The meats were very neat, and not gross; no servants in livery attended, but those called gentlemen only; and, in the several kinds, even down to the small beer, nothing could be more choice than the table was. It was an oblong and not an oval; and the duchess, with two daughters only, sat at the upper end. If the gentlemen chose a glass of wine, the civil offers were made either to go down into the vaults, which were very large and sumptuous, or servants, at a sign given, attended with salvers, &c. and many a brisk round went about; but no sitting at table with tobacco and healths, as the too common use is. And this way of entertaining continued a week, while we were there, with incomparable variety: for the duke had always some new project, building, walling, or planting, which he would show, and ask his friends their advice about; and nothing was forced or strained, but easy and familiar, as if it was, and really so I thought it to be, the common course and way of living in that family.

"One thing more I must needs relate, which the duke told us smiling, and it was this: When he was in the midst of his building, his neighbour, the Lord Chief Justice Hales, made him a visit; and observing the many contrivances the duke had for the disposing of so great a family, he craved leave to suggest one to him, which he thought would be much for his service, and it was, to have but one door to his house, and the window of his study, where he sat most, open upon that. This shows how hard it is for even wise and learned men to consider things without themselves. The children of the family were bred with a philosophical care. No inferior servants were permitted to entertain them, lest some mean sentiments, or foolish notions and fables, should steal into them; and nothing was so strongly impressed upon them as a sense of honour. Witness the Lord Arthur, who, being about five years old, was very angry with the judge for hanging men. The judge told him, that, if they were not hanged, they would kill and steal. 'No,' said the little boy, 'you should make them promise upon their honour they will not do so, and then they will not.' It were well if this institutionary care of parents were always correspondent in the manners of all the children; for it is not often found to prove so." Life of the Lord Keeper Guilford, p. 132.

Christopher, Duke of Albemarle, son to the restorer of the monarchy. He seems to have had no particular character of his own, excepting that he was fond of mechanics, and suggested some improvements on the diving-bell. The Whig writers seldom mention him without a sneer at his understanding.[446] His talents were, however, sufficient to recommend him to be chancellor of Cambridge, in place of the Duke of Monmouth, once the idol of the university, but whose picture they, in 1682, consigned to the flames, with all the solemnities of dishonour.[447] There is a Pindaric ode upon the election of the Duke of Albemarle to this presidency over the seat of the Muses, containing a suitable quantity of bombast and flattery; it concludes by promising his grace a poetical immortality:

When Monmouth undertook his ill-fated expedition, Albemarle marched against him with the militia of Devon; but the ex-chancellor of Cambridge baffled the attempts of his successor to coop him up at Lyme, and compelled him to retreat with some disorder. Monmouth, after assuming the title of king, sent a summons to Albemarle to claim his allegiance, who returned a cold and contemptuous answer. In 1687, Albemarle was sent abroad as governor of Jamaica; in which island he died.

Sir Henry Bennet was the constant attendant of Charles II. during his exile: after the Restoration, he became a member of the Cabal administration, and secretary of state. He was finally Lord Chamberlain, and through many turns of politics retained the favour of Charles II., perhaps as much from making himself useful in his pleasures, as from the recollection of his faithful attachment. He was learned, and accustomed to business; but, being naturally of a slow understanding, and having acquired a formal manner during his stay in Spain, much enhanced by a black patch which he wore to conceal a wound on his nose, there was something ridiculously stiff in his demeanour. Charles II., who put no value upon a friend in comparison to a jest, is said to have had much delight in seeing the Duke of Buckingham, or any of his gay courtiers, by the help of a black patch and a white staff, enact Harry Bennet. Mulgrave thinks, that a ludicrous idea being thus associated with Arlington, and all that concerned him, he came to be generally thought a man of less abilities, than he really was. He adds, he was of a generous temper, and served his friends warmly. Being once ungratefully used by one whom he had benefited, he asked Mulgrave, what effect he thought it would have upon him; and prevented his answer, by saying, it should neither cool his present friendship, nor prevent him of the greatest happiness of his life, which was to serve the first deserving person that fell in his way.[448] Although the Duke of York disliked Arlington, yet he suffered him to retain his situation at court. His religion may have saved him from disgrace; for Arlington was privately a Catholic, and avowed himself to be so on his death-bed.[449] He died July, 1685.