Chapter 19760611

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Chapter NumberVOL II VII-(Continued)
Chapter Title
Chapter Url
Full Date1877-07-28
Page Number9
Word Count4418
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)
Trove TitleHer Majesty's Tower
article text


The Storyteller.

Her Majesty's Tower.*


CHAPTER VII—(Continued).


THE next fellow to be gained was Anthony Copley, a kinsman of Southwell. At fifteen years of age Copley had left England for Rome, where he accepted a bed and platter in the Jesuits'

oollege, with a pension of ten orowna a-year from the Pope. From Rome he passed into Flanders, where Father Owen obtained for him a pennon of twenty crown* from the Prince of Parma, in whoae servioe he remained fighting against his Queen, until he sickened of the Jesuits, when he returned to London and procured a pardon from Burghley on expressing his eagerness for instruction in a better creed. From that time he had been much abused by Persons, though he had never ceased to be a member of his church. Hating the men at White Webbs, Copley come into Watson's plans, en the simple promise that those Jesuit in* triguers were to be put to open shame. In his first confession Copley boasted that those Jesuits were kept in ignorance of his plot; Watson thought the same. But this im pression was a great mistake. A doaen members had not been told of their purpose before Garnet, jealous and amused, had placed an agent at their board to learn their object and betray them to the law. That agent was Brookaby, whom _ Garnet set to watch the priests, while his wife Helen remained in her false name and false character beneath the Jesuit's roof. The parts in this comedy of intrigue being oast, the comedians met in a- tavern behind Paul's churchyard, to wrangle, over pots of ale, about the strength of parties in the court High names were mentioned in these pot-house meetings; the names of Raleigh, Nottingham, Windsor; but no one spoke of intercourse with these great persons, since no one in the room pretended to know them except by sight The scheme for a great display of Catholic strength not only failed, but failed at once; for not a single lay Catholic of name and weight could be induced to join. The comedy was played out, when Father Watson one day met in the street George Brooke, a man of birth, a brother of Lord Cobbam, a brother-in-law of Cecil, having friends among those Puritan and patriotic gentry who were anxious to relieve Ostend. Brooke knew Lord Grey. A disappointed man, ill-used by Cecil, Brooke lay open to the tempter's voice ; and as he listened to Father Watson's talk, he fancied that he saw some chance of crossing Cecil by this plan of waylaying and frightening James, if only Grey and some others could be got to help* Father Watson begged him to see what could be done. Calling at Grey's house, on the pretence of mourning with him over the ruin of God's cause in London as well as on the Flemish coast, Brooke hinted that James had been deceived by Cecil as to the facts of public opinion, and asked whether it might not be well for some gentlemen of birth to lay a humble statement of the case before. the .King ! Grey thought it would be welL James was'at Greenwich. Such a state ment, Brooke suggested, might be offered to the King as he rode from that place to Windsor Castle ; but offered to him openly, in the light of noon, so that all the world might see how many gentlemen of rank and fortune held their views. For such a purpose, Grey said he could muster a hundred gentlemen of the best blood in England in a single day. Secure so far, Brooke asked whether Grey saw any objection to the old Catholic gentry, who had fought with them a common battle against the Jesuits, ofleriag a petition of their own f Grey saw none. A few days later. Brooke called on Grey again, bringing with him Markham, as one oi those Catholic gentlemen who wished to have their grievances made known. These men had other plans, which they could not explain to Grey. They hoped to change the Government; in order to change the Government they must seise the King; and they oould only seise the King by fighting with his guard. Alone, they could not venture on such a fight Could Grey and his friends be tempted into offering them the chances of a fray t If swords were drawn, no man could tell where the broil might end. In a sudden tumult, everyone could strike for him self, and on a cry being raised of "To the Tower t' the whole body of riders might be swept along, in a pame of fear, under the guidance of a few strong spirits who knew their minds. Could Grey be tempted ? Brooke, who seemed as though he had only come for instructions, asked the young general what must be done in case the King's guard set on them ? Grey only smiled ; the guard was not likely to attack a body of gentlemen in holiday attire. Still, urged Brooke, they might draw their swords in error and in panic Suppose they drew ; must the gentlemen stand on their defence ? " No," answered Grey at once ; under no alarm could he suffer his friends to draw on the royal escort Such an answer left the dreamers without a hope; but Watson, falling deeper into treason every hour, thought otherwise. He saw his way, and felt his ground. If Grey would raise his friends and meet the King, that fact should be enough. A new plan oould be built upon the old; for the priest could now speak to his loyal and conservative flock in a voice which they would understand. Fired with his new purpose, he ran to the house of Sir Edward Parham, a strict old Somer setshire Catholic, whose sword was keen as his wit was dull. " Quodlihets" told this gentleman, as a secret, that the new King was more than half converted to their faith, that many of his councillors heard mass, and that Pope Clement * The right of repnblishing " Her Majettj1. Tower" bat bean parcfaawd bj tbo fvopcMon oi Tkt tytmdmitr.

enjoined his children to guard their prince. Guard him from what T Then Watson whispered in his ear the stU) more perilous secret that Lord Grey and a gang of Puritan wretches were about to waylay their King, to seize his royal person, and to separate him from the de voted servants of his churoh. Out of pure affection he offered to Parham a golden chance. If he could silently and swiftly raise his Catholio friends—who would promptly arm in such a cause—he might be able to win such favor and fortune as Ramsay had won in Gowrie house ; for when those Puritan rascals pricked up in the Surrey-lane, he oould rush upon them, rescue his prince from danger, and carry him to his palace in the Tower. All that being promptly done, they oould then fall at his Majesty's feet and ask him to do them religious justice. What grace oould the King refuse to men who had saved his life ? Parham, burning to become a hero of the court like Ramsay, pledged his help. Tet the plot was hardly now complete. To give Parham his oue there must be some appearanoe of attaok. How could a scuffle be brought about ? Could Grey be induced to admit Markham, Copley, and a few other Catholics in his train ? If bo, all would be well; for a kick of Copley's horse might raise a dust, a snap of Markham's pistol might raise a cry; the King would be sure to faint, the guards would probably charge, and the Puritan gentry might be trusted to draw their swords. Then, and then only, would be Parham's time. Markham went down with Brooke to Lord Grey's house ; but Grey would not listen to his prayer. If the Catholics wished to speak, let them do so, he said, another time, in another plaoe. Sir Griffin hinted that the Catholio gentlemen might go to meet the King, whether Grey approved their course or not In that case, Grey announced that he should not go at aIL The conference then broke up ; and seeing that for the present no good was to be dome at court, Grey crossed the sea to Sluys, in the hope of either finding his way into Ostend or doing some better service to the Dutch. This departure of Grey from London killed the comedy and brought tbe curtain down. James rode in peace from Greenwich to Windsor Castle ; and then the Jesuits, after hearing a full report from Brooksby of what had been said and done by the plotters, sent Father Barneby, a creature whom they made their tool, to the house of Richard Bancroft, Bishop of London, to denounce the plot and to say where Copley might be seised.

Cairns VIIL WWtOJX COUftT. A plot in the air—* dream in the cloister—e> comedy in the tap-room—a scheme which, dying in the throe* of birth, could have no public history, was no bad •tuff for men like Cecil and Northampton to recast and shape. The secresy and folly were in their favor. Grey had been consulted; and among the names which had been bandied about in Carter-lane was that of Raleigh. Striking for place and power, the subtle minister and his hoary pander had many motives, personal and political, for pushing their advantage to the last White Webbs would laugh at the trouble of Watson and Clarke ; the English college in Rome rejoice over the ruin of Copley; the Cardinal Archduke give thanks for the arrest of Grey. George Brooke was the brother and heir of Cobham; these two lives were all that stood between William Cedl, now Lord* Cranbome, and a vast estate; and Cran borne was already promised in marriage to Northampton's niece. They put the case into the hands of Coke. On Copley's first confession, Markham, Watson, Clarke, and Brooke were thrown into the Tower. Parham the dupe, and Brooksby the spy, were lodged in the Gate house, new Cecil's lodgings in Whitehall. Barneby, the priestly informer, having nothing more to tell, was hidden in the Clink. Not many days elapsed before it was rumored at Paul's Cross that Grey was in close arrest at Stays, and not many more went by before the young Puritan peer was brought in a war-ship to the Tower. Coke's brief against the prisoners was a work of legal art Out of Barneby*s report and Copley's confession, he wove an appearance of three plots, which he proposed to call— L The Spanish Treason. 11. The Surprising Treason. lIL Th* Priests' Treason. For the trial of these conspiracies, he proposed to have separate courts, so as to give each trial its due importance in the public eye. In the Spanish Treason he indicted Count Aremberg, the Archduke's minister, together with Raleigh, Cobham, Grey, and Brooke, on a charge of plotting to deprive the King, aud to raise his royal cousin, the Lady Arabella Stuart, to his throne. In the Surprising Treason, he indicted Grey and Brooke, on a charge of conspiring to waylay and surprise the King as he rode from Greenwich to Windsor Castle. In the Priests' Treason, he indicted Markham, Copley, Parham, Watson, Clarke, and Brooke, on a charge of con spiring to change the Government by force. Much was withheld from Coke. Nothing was said to him about the peace with Spain; but enough was hinted to tell him that Brooke must die. Hence, the luckless uncle of Cecil's son was included as a principal in every charge. Cecil spoke, though in vague, suspicious phrase, of the whole affair as the Arabella Plot, and his creature Coke tried hard to include Lord Grey in a second charge. It had been often bruited through the town that Grey would marry the Lady Arabella; and if Coke could show that Grey had ever entertained this project, he could lay him open to proceedings under the Royal Marriage Act Cobham, who was said to have recommended such a match, was questioned in the Tower, but his examination ended without supplying evidence fit to be adduced in court While these prisoners lay in the Tower, awaiting trial, Don Juan de Taxis, Conde de Villa Medina, arrived from Spain. Don Juan's master wanted peace. Peace was worth to him more than a hundred thousand crowns a-year, and this great sum of money his agent was em powered to spend in corrupting Jamen's court The wealth of two Indies flowed from the Ambassador's bounteous palm. Gems, feathers, perfumes, rained upon councillors' wires and on women who were thought to be more charming than their wive*. In * month, Don Joan was

the rage. Everyone courted him, everyone swore by him. Fine ladies, rustling in tfie silks of Seville, and pale with the pearls of Margarita, voted him the most perfect gallant they had ever met. The Counteßs of Suffolk, aa Cecil's most confidential friend, was the prime object of Don Juan's courtesies. The great house, then rising at Charing Cross, was said, in reference to these gift*, to be plated with King Philip's gold. Much of Don Juan's money passed into Cecil's pocket; for the minister knew the worth of peace to Spain, and when he sold his country to a foreigner, his pride compelled him to sell her at a noble rate. Don Juan could not dispute his terms. "Buy others cheap—pay Cecil all he asks," was the substance, though not the form, of Don Juan's daily message from Madrid. Cecil named his price—a king's ransom down in gold, and a yearly pension to be paid for life. Northampton and Suffolk also obtained the most princely sums. When the terms of peace had been settled, Coke received an order from the Council to unmake his plots, and cast his materials into other shapes. The charge against Aremberg must be withdrawn, and the Spanish Treason must disappear. Coke mußt have been deeply hurt, for the brief which he had drawn was a triumph of legal art When he began afresh, he remembered Cecil's phrase of the Arabella plot, and he cast hk confessions into a shape that would support the theory of such a conspiracy. But 88 neither Copley nor the priests had mentioned this lady's name, he was told even now, at the ninth hour, to drop her name, and to divide the plot into two new parts. When his brief was drawn, the plot consisted of the Main and the Bye. Raleigh was in the Main- Grey was in the Bye—Brooke was in both the Main and the Bye. One was a conspiracy to raise Arabella to the throne—the other was a conspiracy to change the government by force. For reasqns which can only now be guessed, the name of Grey was dropped at the last moment from the article charging Raleigh and Cobham with the Arabella Treason. Brooksby, not being sent to the Tower, expected to escape a trial; but unseen influences worked against the spy, who was carried down to Winchester like the rest, leaving his fair young wife at the Jesuits' lodgings at White Webbs. The King rode down to Wilton Court, to be near the soene of trial; and in the quaint old house where Mary Sydney lived, and under the solemn cedars that her brother loved, gay pages fluttered, and wily courtiers mused; while the hardier gentlemen of the chamber leaped to hone and dashed into the neighboring town. Popham and Coke made very short work with the smaller fry of prisoners. A few hours sufficed for them to bully and condemn Brooke, Watson, Copley, Markham and Clarke. Parham was spared. Brooksby, though pleading that he joined the conspirators only to betray them, was condemned to die. Clarke alone showed genuine courage. Having played his game and lost, his only trouble appeared to be that he, a man of order and of letters, should leave behind him a traitor's name. Raleigh came up next—after Raleigh came up Cobham—and after Cobham, Grey. Grey was tried by his peers, some of them hi* personal enemies; one of them, that Lord Southampton whom he had beaten in the public street. Dudley Carleton says that Southampton "was mute before bis face," but spoke much against him when the lords " retired to consult among them* selves." Lord Grey's defence was simple. If the thought of presenting a petition was high treason, he was guilty; if it were lawful, he was not guilty. To the charge of conspiring with Brooke and Markham to surprise the King, he offered his proud denial and defied the proof. Only thrioe had he seen these men, and on the first suggestion of force being used he had peremptorily declined all further talk with them. The peers condemned him to die a traitor's death. When asked if he had anything to urge why sentence of death should not be passed upon him, he answered—"Nothing." The court was awed into deep, pathetic silence. After a pause, he added, " Yet, a word of Tacitus oomes into my mind, —Aon tadem omnibus decora. The house of Wilton have spent many live's in their prince's service. Grey cannot beg his life." Raleigh himself never passed that height; and the proud refusal of this young soldier of twenty-five to ask a pardon from the King amazed and fascinated James.l When Brooke was fallen by the axe, and the two priests were hung and quartered, the King made a fidgety secret as to whether he would go on or pause. Under the green trees and by the limpid streams of Wilton House two parties were contending night and day ; the gentlemen who were fumbling the edge of Don Juan's gold, defending the verdicts passed and clamoring for what they called traitors' blood; while those who had kept their fingers free were crying out against the sentence as infamous, the witnesses as perjured, the peers as corrupt The ladies were on the side of mercy; and all the prisoners were willing to ask for mercy, excepting Grey. Pembroke sent to London for the Globe comedians, in order that the Teacher of his Age might help to infuse some mirth and tenderness into the royal councils; and William Shakespeare's troop rode down to Wilton on this gracioua errand. One play was given before the court; and there is reason to believe that play was "Measure for Measure." The play was new; composed that very fall, as the many allusions to events then passing prove—to the plague, to the war, to the expected peace, to the proclamation, to the revival of obsolete laws, to the razing of a certain class of houses in the suburbs. Such an expression as " Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary's I" might have been heard in every street that summer; and the characters of Angelo and the Duke are but highly-colored and flattering pictures of Cecil and the King. The play may have been written for the Wilton stage. That it was first produced before a courtly audience is clear from the text; not only from the passage on ladies' masks, but from the many allusions in it to James's easy nature and his great dislike to crowds. It may be safely gathered from the story of this play, that the noble lines, — Not the Kin*'» crown, nor the d«pated iword, The nuuihal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Becomes them with one half m> good » grace Aa many (km I

were addressed from the stage of Wilton House to Junes. The King, who had no poetry in his soul to be toothed by noble phrases, caused the warrants) to be drawn oat and passed under the Great Seal, for the execution of Markham, Cobhato, and Grey; and Tictiborne, Governor of the Castle, received instruction* to prepare a scaffold in Castle Yard, and strike off the conspirator*" heads on Friday morning before ten o'clock. The Duke of Vienna could hardly have devised a vainer plot. Friday morning came, and the party of clemency was in despair. The Wilton lawns were drenched with rain ; the air was dnll and raw; yet thousands of people swarmed from an early hour into the Saxon city; rolling over Castle Hill, choking up the city gates, spotting every balcony and roof with black ; yeomei? from the Bossex downs, gentry from the glebes and parks, pages and courtiers from Wilton House, possibly the- Globe comedians, and the Globe poet himself. James was to prove him self that day a greater cwwlisn than any in that famous troop. Sitting in his room at Wiltoa House, the King called to his side a lad namd John Gibbs, then raw from Scotland, barely able to make himself understood in English speech. The lad* face was unknown to Tichborne ; that waJ th*» point of the King's joke; the fact out of which was to leap his great surprise. James put .* paper into his hand, and bade him ride over to Winchester Castle, where he was to watch the proceedings until the axe was being raised to strike, when he was to rush into the ring, draw Tichborne aside, and show him the royal man date. When the lad was gone, the King remembered that in his haste he had forgotten to sign his name. Riders flew after Gibbs, and brought him back, and the fault being mended, the Scotch lad dashed over the downs to Win cheater, where he found the Castle yard crowded with Tichborne's men. These fellows pushed him back into the crowd ; deaf to his cries, im patient of his Scottish twang ; so that while the headsman was getting ready, Gibbs had to hang about the gate, fretting at the pikemen, and hoping that some one would arrive who would know Ids face, and understand his tale. Markham was brought out first to die ; and after saying a short prayer, be was bending his neck to the stroke, when a quick cry from the crowd caught the sheriff's ear. Gibbs had found Sir James Hay, who out a path for him to Tichborne's side. In a moment the seal was broken, and Tiohborne le«rnt, under the King's own hand, that the prisoners were to be put—as it were—to the axe; but only hi sport; and when they had been frightened to death, were* to be told that the King had been graciously pleased to spare their lives. Having read these strange commands, the sheriff told Markham to stand aside. Grey came out next—his footfall firm, his eye) elate, his expression proud and gentle ; for he had supped as well and slept as softly as he could have done at Whaddon HalL A band of youthful nobles, few of them younger—none of them nobler than himself, marched with him from his cell to the Castle yard. Gay hi hi* attire, as though the block to which he was going were a bridal board, his countenance bright with unearthly joy, he pasted through the kneeling lines—the only man perhaps, whose pulse beat calmly in all that quivering throng. Dropping softly at the headsman's feet, he poured out his soul in prayer; and when he had made his peace with God, he confessed his sins in the face of man, admitting his many offenoes, but haughtily putting away from him the stein of crime. The rain fell fast; but the crowd stood sadly in the Castle yard. From his prison window Baleigh was looking on. Grey made his sign ; for the pang of death was passed ; and he laid his neck for the lifted steeL Then Tieh. borne broke upon his pesos. An error, said the sheriff, had crept into their proceedings; Cobham must die first, and Grey must abide for an hour in the halL When the ghastly comedy was played out the three prisoners were ranked in the Castle yard, face to face ; Tiohborne read the King's letter of reprieve; and the people threw up their caps sad cried "Well done!" [to bm ooiTiuiim>.]

Mb. Ruwuh's case is another illustration of the troth of the saying that man of genius ought not to be entrusted with money. Hk father l«ft him £120,000, besides some valuable pictures and property at Herne Fill, Denmark Hill, and Greenwich. He sold the picture*, bought Brankwood, spent £15,000 on harness and stabling, helped his poor relations to the amount of £32,000, and has since spent about £84,000, to use his own expression, " rariously." He estimates that he is now worth about £60,000 ; but he intends disposing of all his property with the exception of £12,000, upon the interest of whioh he means either to live or die. With such expensive tastes and costly fancies as those indulged in by the gifted author of the "Stones of Venice," £400 to £500 a year will be but a starvation allowance. Tra New York Weekly is responsible for the following :—" A very remarkable circumstance is related as occurring to Mr. T. T. Cook, who has two brothers living in Minnesota. The gentle man referred to was a Union soldier, and while engaged in a fight with Morgan's raiders, at Cynthiana, Ky., on the 11th of June, 1804, received a wound in th«> left eye, by which that organ was destroyed. The wound was never carefully examined, the surgeons thinking it was made by a splinter or spent shot. The wound never healed, and has proved a great annoyance to Mr. Cook. Bat last Thanksgiving morning, while at Daniel Floch'sin West Shenango, Perm., a Minie ball dropped out of hia eye, followed by a purulent discharge. The ball weighed 1 1-3 ounces, and had lain imbedded in the skull, near the eye, for twelve years five months and eighteen days. Sarcasm.—One of the Southern Democratic counsel engaged in the recent Presidential electiqn, is said to have remarked with reference to the abuse heaped upon the Commission of Congress by a portion of the Democratic press, that it was " scarcely judicious for a man with his hand in a lion's mouth to make faces at another man in a position to twist the animal's taiL"