|Chapter Number||VOL II XXII-(Continued)|
|Newspaper Title||The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)|
|Trove Title||Her Majesty's Tower|
Her Majesty's Tower.*
VOL. II. CHAPTER XXII— (Continued).
BY WILLIAM HEPWORTH DIXON.
ANTHONY MARIA Browne, second Viscount Montagu, of Cowdray in Sussex, was a youth of thirty-three, a master of many manors, colleges, and farms, and the husband of Lady Jane, a
daughter of Thomas Sackville, Earl of Dorset, the eminent poet and Lord High Treasurer of England. He lived in Montagu Close, the great Priory of St. Mary Overies, near London Bridge, a pile which had been given by Henry the Eighth to his grandcdre, the first Lord Montagu of his line. The Priory was Church property, and when the Brownes became Catholic under Mary, it was hoped they would cease to hold an estate which belonged to God. In fact, the old Viaoount had become strict in bis principles ; he had married Maud Dacre; he had called his grandson and heir " Maria;" but he stuck to Montagu Close as firmly as though he had been the laxaat heretic in the realm. The case against Anthony Maria, Viscount Montagu, was ugly enough under any explana tion, and he had the misfortune to give more than one explanation of the leading facts. The points which told most against him were:— that Quy Fawkes had been one of the servant* near his person; that Catesby had given him some hint of what would occur when the King was seated on his throne; and that he had pro posed to be absent from his place in Parliament on the opening day. To the first point he answered, that Fawkes was placed by his grandfather in his household when he married ; that he was then a boy under nineteen ; and that Fawkes was in his service only about four months. But he could not say that he had never Been him since that time. On pressure, he confessed that Fawkes, after the first Viscount's death, had slept in his house and served at his table. The explanation was, that his Bteward, one Spencer, a kinsman of " the miserable fellow," had given him a few days' lodging in Montagu Close, and while he was staying there, had turned his service to account. All this took place twelve years ago, and since that time he had scarcely ever seen or thought of him. To the second point he answered, that he met with Catesby in the Strand by accident on the Tuesday before All Saints' Day, as he was going to the Savoy to dine; that the conspirator gave him no warning to absent himself from Parlia ment ; that their speech was only general, as to the cauße of his being absent in the country. But the very next day he corrected the date on which these dangerous speeches had been held in the Strand into the Tuesday fortnight before All Sa-nts' Day; a date which he could fix, he said, from the fact that he was dining in the Savoy with his aunt, Lady Southampton. • Th« right of rapubliahing "Her Majerty'a Tower" has been purchased by the proprietor! of Tht Q*wuUovUr,
To the third point ha answered, that he pro posed to be absent from London on the opening day by the King's good leave, and not otherwise; a leave which he hoped to procure through the Earl of Dorset, his father-in-law. If this leave could not be obtained for him, he meant to be in his place. The old Viscountess Montagu (poor Maud Dacre) knew about it; for on telling her of bis plan for going down into the country, she had begged him not to go, unless he could first get leave of absence from Parliament, as the hard riding would be too muoh for his health. From Sir Thomas fiennet's house he was carried to the Tower; but for the sake of Lady Jane, if not for his own, the Council dealt with his inconsistencies in a tender spirit. Brought before the Star Chamber, he was condemned to a fine of four thousand pounds and imprison ment during his Majesty's pleasure. In the end he compounded for his fine, and lay in the Tower about forty weeks. Henry Mordaunt, fourth Baron Mordaunt of Drayton Manor in county Nbrthants, and of Turvey in county Beds, was descended on his mother's side from the old Catholic family of Darcy, one of whose members had forfeited his* honors by the Pilgrimage of Grace. Mordaunt was a close friend of Catesby, but being a Catho lic of the old English school, he could not be entrusted with the secrets of bis plot He was a weak and pliant creature, whom the haughty Catesby had to manage and despise. Some one had proposed to swear him. " Not for a church full of diamonds!" cried the man who knew him best. If Mordaunt were told the secret, even on the Primer, Catesby was of opinion that he could not keep it Easy and yielding, he was used, like the two Littletons, by that mastering spirit, who induced him to permit his servants to be employed in raising men, under cover of a design to fight in the Archduke's cause. Two Irish fellows, named O'Ferrall, who had been tempted to enlist, gave evidence against Mor daunt'B man. More than one of the prisoners confessed that Catesby bad given some hints to his friend ; and Mordaunt had made excuses for not being present with his peers, on the ground that his conscience would not allow him to attend the King at church. Turvey, his ancient seat in Beds, was a noto rious nest of Jesuits. Kay had lived in his house, and Kay's wife was the teacher of his children. All these things were against him. Brought before the Star Chamber, Mordaunt was sentenced to a heavy fine, with imprison ment during the King's pleasure; and after six months of rather sharp privation in the Tower, he was liberated on conditions which left him a broken man. In succeeding reigns the Mordaunts rose again ; chiefly in the person of Henry's grandson, the meteoric Earl of Peterborough; but for twenty years to come his utmost care was needed to preserve in his family that lord ship of Turvey which had bean their own sines the reign of Henry the First Edward Stourton, ninth Baron Stourton of Stourton, in county Wilts, was the second son of that wretched Charles, Lord Stourton, who had been hung, in a silken cord on account of his quality, for the murder of his neighbors, the two Hargils, father and son. Edward, then a boy, was said, like bis elder brother John, to have been privy to the crime; but the lads were spared on account of their youth; and after eighteen years had passed over the public memory, the two brothers were restored in blood, in order that John might sit, as one of the old Catholic peers, on the oench which was to con* demn Mary, Queen of Soots, to death. This John, eighth Lord Mordaunt, died without issue; and Edward, bis partner in suspicion, came into the honors of his race. A dark and gloomy fanatic, with hands not free from blood, and weighted with the curse of his father's shame, this Edward, ninth Lord Stourton, had lived a lonely life, the companion and the victim of monks and priests. Lady Stourton was Frances, a daughter of Sir Thomas Tresham, and therefore a sister of "Cousin Frank." Their London house was in Clerken* well; a part of the famous priory of that place; for the Stourtons, like the Browne*, had no ob jection to receive church lands. Brought before the Star Chamber, Stourton, who could neither deny his intimacy with Catesby and " Cousin Frank," nor explain to the court his reason for absenting himself on the opening day, was sentenced to a thousand pounds fine and imprisonment during pleasure in the Tower. This fine was compounded, and the prisoner released ; compounded, not paid ; for two years after his release from the Tower, the fine was returned in a draft of outstanding publio debts. What was due to private persons had been paid to the uttermost coin. Compounding for fines was a curious and im moral traffic, and being conducted with the utmost secrecy was understood by few. Lord Stourton happened to be one of those few ; his wife being a Tresham, and one of a family which had been driven by their misfortunes into studying the mysteries of this immoral trade. When Cousin Frank went out with Essex into the Strand, he fell into so much danger that everyone expected him to share the fate of Cuffs and Lea. But the Treshams were rich, and some great ladies in the court were poor. A communication was made to Sir Thomas, in a roundabout way, on behalf of a young lady who might be able to help his son. This young lady, the daughter of no less a person than Lord Howard of Walden, Constable of the Tower (afterwards Earl of Suffolk ; the same who went into the vault and jested about the cool and wood), was represented as being willing to plead for Frank, on certain trusts being executed in her favor by the master of Rush ton Hall. Catharine Howard was then a child, too young to speak with her Majesty on any subject more serious than a toy; but her mother, Lady Howard, the sharpest intriguer living, had arranged with her lover, Sir Robert Cecil, that this girl should some day be the wife of his eldest son ; and therefore it seemed right in the Secretary's eyes that Catharine should be pro vided with a dowry out of traitors' lands. Bir Thomas, knowing that the life of his son was in their power, consented to lodge with a third party, not to be named in the writings, certain bonds of large amount, on the understanding that these bonds were to be hauded over to certain "honorable persons," when a "matter" not set forth in words was performed, and to be
returned to Sir Thomas in cue that "nutter" was not performed. How much money wm paid to the young lady by Sir Thomas remains a secret; one of the bonds was drawn for twenty one hundred pounds, and several were for a thousand pounds a-piece. The bribe was so large, that Sir Thomas always said the payment crippled him for life. Through some suoh channel as Lady Suffolk's daughter, Stourton compounded for his fine. But the ruin of these three baronß was of less importance to Cecil and Northampton than that of the great northern Earl, the friend of Raleigh, the mainspring of the war party, the future hope of the Catholics, and the most powerful person* age living beyond the Trent.
Chapter XXIII. HARBT PEROT. Harry Perot, ninth earl and, twenty-first baron of his line, had won his spurs of knight hood in the Low-Country war and in the Armada fight; in which, though a good Caoholic, he had fought with heroic fire against the King of Spain. But bis hope of achieving a great career in arms had been quenched by the many and unseemly quarrels into which his violence of temper led him. Even when the flash of youth was gone, he had no control over his tongue and pen, and at thirty he behaved like an overgrown boy in a public school. For two years he had fought in the lines of Ostend with credit, when his mutinous passions entrapped him into an in decent broil with bis commander, the illußtrious Vere, whom he wished to call out and fight He quarrelled with his comrades, and separated from his Countess. Apart from an infirmity which he shared with his ancestor and namesake, Harry Hotspur, Percy was a gallant soldier and a princely friend. Raleigh respected him as a companion in arms. Neither Pembroke nor Southampton rivalled him in his sympathy for science and the liberal arts. Peele and Heriot were bis constant companions. Spencer sent him a sonnet, and a copy of the Faery Queen. Peele composed for him his poem called " The Honor of the Garter ;" and Heriot owed to his bounty that leisure for investigation which led to his discoveries in solar and stellar science. It was said in Percy's praise, that no scholar ever turned disheartened from his door. Himself a student of art and nature, be toyed with every subject in its turn ; with numbers, with music, with the starry heavens, with alchemy, with the elixir of life. Bacon looked to him as a patron of the new learning :—" Your great capacity and love towards studies and contemplations of a higher and nobler nature than popular (a nature rare in this world, and in a person of your lordship's quality almost singular), is to me," wrote Bacon, M a great and chief motive to draw my affection and admiration towards you." In person, he was the soul of honor; and if he could only have curbed his petulant tongue, he would have been one of the most perfect paladins in the English court The name, the valour, and the possessions of Percy, had pointed him out as Lord Protector, in case the kingdom should require such an officer on the Queen's demise. The whole north country would have rallied to his flag ; and the known wishes of the great Earl, as to the coming in of James, had done more to make his entry pleasant than those of any other man. The King, too we|l aware of his service, had hardly crossed the border before he called him to his Council by a special act Yet the lines were drawn between Cecil and Percy from the opening day of the new reign ; and every alight that could be made to gall and wound a spirit only to quick to see offence whs put on Percy by his smiling and respectful adversary. Percy, who had thought of finding great employments under James, was sore at heart; and being sore at heart, was certain to be loud of tongue. He talked to Bethune. He inspired Watson with hope. Even if he had been careful of his words, he could not have failed to be the subject of con versation in taverns like the Hart's Horn, in slums like Butcher Row ; and he was far from careful of his words. The circle at White Webbs made niauy euquiries about him. Once, indeed, they thought of making him their General, in place of Stanley; but his fanatical kinemau, who had come to think of godliness as a thing of fasting, whip-cord, and a horse-hair shirt, reported that the Earl bad given up religion for science and the worldly arts. When Raleigh was arrested, Percy went down to Windsor Castle to defend his chief ; and, but for Cecil's fear of trying too much at once, he would have been wrecked in the Arabella Plot instead of in the Powder Plot So great a man could not be readily set aside, and Percy was associated with the court in many offices of grace. He was made Captain of the Band of Gentlemen Pensioners ; he was chosen as witness when Prince Charles was created Duke of York ; he bore the basin when Princess Mary was christened. The Countess of Nor thumberland was one of Mary's godmothers; the King's cousin, Lady Arabella, being the other. Sion House, which Percy had previously rented from the crown, was now settled on him by grant Still, he had little aotual power; and after Raleigh's trial and reprieve at Winchester, he retired in weariness of spirit from a world in which he could find no peace, and tried to con sole himself with the intellectual delight* of study, buildtug, gardening, and the like. The Lord of Wreasil in Yorkshire, of Petworth in Sussex, of Alnwick in Northumberland, of thirty other manors, parks, and castle*, be had scope enough for the indulgence of princely tastes. The Karl spent much of his time at Sion, where he transformed the dull monastic garden into a laughing lea of flowers; among which he played with his four little ones—Algernon and Henry, Dorothy and Lucy ; boys and girls who Were, each and all, to live remarkable lives : Algernon as teutb Earl of Northumberland, one of the heroes of the Civil War ; Henry has Lord Percy of Alnwick, the favorite cavalier of Queen Henrietta Maria; Dorothy as Countess of Leicester, and mother of Algernon Sydney ; Lucy as Counteos of Carlisle, the frien of Sttefford and of Pym, and the subject of a thousand rapturous •ones. Northumberland was clever, popular, and rich. Seme envied his reputation; many coveted his
lands. Even while he was training his plants and sporting with his children on the lawns at Sion, his fate was drawing him towards that dungeon which had been the dwelling of so many of his race. Moat of the old fighting Percies had been prisoners in the Tower. More than one had been murdered in its chambers; and many of them had passed through the Bye-ward gate to the block on Tower Hill. The Beauchamp tower and the Bloody tower were dark with the traditions of his house; and now another tower on the Ballium wall was waiting to receive her guest, and grow into sudden fame as the prison of Peroy the Wixard Earl. Incapable of prudence, Northumberland had been more than usually imprudent in his dealings with his kinsman, Thomas Percy, the conspirator ; for he had not only given him a place in the band of Gentlemen Pensioners, but had suffered him to enter on his duties without taking the customary oaths. There he was wrong, and wrong beyond exouae. Percy knew that his kinsman disliked the King ; he ought to have known that he was a convert and a tool of the Jesuits. Such a man was unfit for a post so near the King, and, even if he had been fit for such a post, he ought never to have been admitted without the usual forms. The great sum of money whioh Thomas Peroy had brought to London was the Earl's property, and Nor thumberland seems to have been careless in exacting from him his vouohers and returns of rent. But.the circumstance of darkest note was that supper on Monday night, when Fawkesrode down to report the official searching of the vault Fawkes had no sooner confessed to having found his master at Sion, than the Sari was commanded by the Council to keep his house. In vain he pleaded in defence his secluded ways, his absence from court, bis devotion to his books, his plants, his children, and the innocent pleasures of a country life. Taken from Sion, he was given in custody to Richard Bancroft, Archbishop of Can terbury, and remained at Lambeth Palace for twenty days, when he was carried down to the Tower, in whioh he lay five months witnout being either accused or heard. At the end of June (1606) he was brought before the Star Chamber, and accused (1) of wishing to put himself at the head of the Papists, and to procure their toleration ; (2) of admitting Thomas Percy to be a Gentleman Pensioner without taking the oaths. Four additional articles were drawn, but they were only variations of these two. The sentence was, that the Earl of Northumberland should be fined in thirty thousand pounds ; that he should be deposed from the Council, and removed from his Captaincy of the Pensioners; that he should cease to be Lord-Lieutenant of any shire ; that he should be kept a prisoner in the Tower for life. He raised a passionate cry against the justice of such a sentence ; but the lords were deaf to his wrongs, and Sir William Waad conducted him once again to that gloomy fortress in which his father had been shot to death. [TO BE COMTUIVXD.]
Oioboi Eliot, Jean logelow, Lady Hardy, and other feminine writers, are members of a literary club in London. The Antiquarian is one of the oldest clubs of the city ; it claims honor of having had Benjamin Franklin aa one of its members. • The Sultan Going to the Mosqub.—Attired in the plainest possible fashion as an ordinary Turkish gentleman, mounted on a white Arab, and Bitting upon a gold-embroidered saddle, with his feet in stirrups of gold, rode the Caliph of the Ottomans. A thin, unhappy face, the dark whiskers, beard, and moustache of which only served to increase the deadly hue of the sallow cheeks which they encompassed, a meagre, somewhat round-shouldered body, a lank, lean, weakly frame—such were the characteristics of the Sovereign of the Ottomans. We know that in the West an idea prevails that Eastern nations are centaurs by birth ; that the saddle is their cradle, their house, their home, and that the Urand Turk seated on a magnificent Arab must necessarily be the very model of the Saracen Monarchs of old. Yet we must dissipate the pleasing illusion, and say that Abdul Hamid would have been—if appearances are to be trusted—much more at home in a comfortable carriage. As one looked at that pale, nervous face, it was easy to see why its owner failed as a ruler. It is said that Mahmoud, the Grand Vizier of Abdul Aziz, when once complaining of the obstinacy of his master, was asked why he did not dethrone him and place some one else in his stead. His reply was, " What good would that effect » Murad is a drunkard, and Hamid is a coward; of the rest I know nothing —the experiment is too dangerous ?" At a recent sitting of the Middlesex Sessions, England, Francis Newton, a good-looking young woman, described as a chignon-maker, was in dicted on the charge of having stolen a cloak, the property of Joseph Highman, of Cloudesley road, Barnsbury, keeper of a wardrobe shop. The evidence was simple and conclusive, the prisoner having gone into the shop, secreted the cloak under her dress, and been caught in the act, and the jury convicted her. In great grief she then avowed that she had always borne a good reputation, and she called a respectable young man to testify to the truth of her asseverations. In reply to Serjeant Cox, he said he had known the prisoner for a very Jong time, and she had always held an excellent reputation ; in fact, he had intended to make her his wife. Mr. Serjeant Cox : When was it you meant to carry out that idea ? Witness : At Easter next, my lord. Mr. Serjeant Cox : Do you pro pose to marry her now if you can ? Witness : Oh yes, my lord ; I should very much like to. (Laughter). Mr. Serjeant Cox: Well, if I let her out now on recognisances that she may come up for judgment if called upon, would you marry her at once ? Witness : Yes, my lord ; cer tainly. (Applause.) Mr. Serjeant Cox ; Very well, then ; I should be very sorry to let her come to you with the taint of the gaol upon her. Enter into recognisances for her, and marry her, knd I hope sincerely that you may live happily together ever hereafter. (Applause, which it was impossible for some time to suppress.) Shortly afterwards the young woman and her champion left the court together, amidst re newed plaudits.