Chapter 19760817

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Chapter NumberVOL II IX
Chapter TitleLAST OF A NOBLE LINE.
Chapter Urlhttp://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article19760817
Full Date1877-08-04
Page Number9
Corrections0
Word Count4350
IllustratedN
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)
Trove TitleHer Majesty's Tower
article text

LITERATURE

The Storyteller.

Her Majesty's Tower.

VOL. II.

CHAPTER IX.

LAST OF A NOBLE LINE.

BY WILLIAM HEPWORTH DIXON.

THE prisoners spared at Winchester were brought in time to the Tower; but only the three great ones were confined beyond the year. Within a few weeks Copley and Brooksby were

pardoned and restored in blood. Markham was set free, on the sole oondition of his going to live abroad; and Barneby was paid his wages . and sent away. Raleigh and Cobham were left in the Tower, that Philip might be easy in his mind, and that Cecil might receive the rents • from a large estate. On his first return to the Tower, Lord Grey was miserably housed by the Lieutenant, Sir George Harvey, a man suspected by the court, and eager to regain the Secretary's good opinion. Grey complained to Cedl, who still prof eased to wish him well, and who was never harsh, like Northampton, beyond his need. Cecil stood his friend so far; and on a hint from court that though Grey must be kept in safety, he need not be Wept in torment, Harvey remembered that he had an empty room in the Brick tower, Sir Qeorge Carew's official apartment; a tower ,wlifon had been Raleigh's nr.L prison, and was afterwards to be his last This house stood on the northern wall, above the ditch. It was high and oold. As Sir George Carew was never in residence, the rooms were empty and unused ; and Harvey, fearing that Grey would still object, informed his master that prisoners had been put into that tower in Peyton's time. Hither, then, Lord Grey was brought; and in this gloomy tower he spent the next nine years of his feverish life. ' Eight pounds a-week were allowed him out of his great estate. He was suffered to write tq bis. mother and sister, and his servant* were allowed in ordinary times to wait upon him. But his oondition changed with the' seasons and lieutenants. Generally his imprisonment was; olose and his treatment harsh. One likes to know the effect of gloom and chains, of damp and silence, on so proud a spirit The old, old story oomes up again:—they broke his health ; and when they had ruined his health, they easily broke his heart The man who could not be induced to beg for life, was worn into begging fretfully for such poor freedom as the liberties of the Tower! Yet there was nothing mean in Grey from first to last If his life m the Brick tower had not the beauty of Raleigh's life in the Garden house, it had a nobleness all his own. In his1 younger days he had amused his leisure by! translating St Cyprian's tract on "Patienoe/' and when he found himself a prisoner in the Tower, he sept to his mother for his book, and asked that his boy might come to him and read, for him. Cecil moved the King to grant him sol much favor; but the King was in no mood to comply; " I beseech you," Grey wrote again, "to move the King for my scholar, who will yield me much comfort" When the request was granted, it was only on- condition that'the' reader should occupy the same room with his lord, and should never leave H. , In his letters to his mother, Grey seemed more anxious to remove any lurking seeds .of suspicion about his loyalty from her mind, than to engage her in efforts for his worldly good. "Madam," he writes, "be not dismayed. lam in the Tower, but neither for thought nor deed against King and oountry." Again he writes to her: "I fear not evil. My heart is fixed. I trust in the Lord." Grey found it hard to be patient in the Brick tower, while Ostend was calling to him, as he thought, for help. The peace with Spain was a sore trial to his spirit, though he fancied that the terms of that peace would allow him to take service in the patriotic army. Markham had been suffered to serve under the Archduke, and he eountod on the same indulgence in his own relations with the Prince of Orange. Then came the fall of Ostend. While his old commander, Vere, remained in the Low Countries, he hoped against hope; but when that veteran was recalled by James, his big heart almost burst with rage. "No one; accident," he wrote to his friend Winwood, a: Puritan like himself, a partisan of the Dutch, like himself, "hath so much grieved me as this 'of Vere, that he should forsake the Low Country employment, when my misfortune hath made me so unavailable." There lay the core of his offence. Grey longed to be in the field, fighting against the; enemies of his oountry and his faith; and the oourtiera at Whitehall were earning pensions by preventing men like himself from offering their swords to the insurgent Dutch. Like Raleigh, Grey was the prisoner of Spain. Tears dragged on ; but the pensions of Cecil and Northampton being duly paid, t'io prisoner lay in his lonely tower above the ditch. At length, the war itself wore out; the Dutch republic was acknowledged; the twelve years' truoe was signed; and the cause of their savage watch on Grey w%a in some degree removed. Yet year on year went by without a change. At length Northampton affected to remember Grey. He went down to the Tower, and saw his comrade of the court The prisoner asked for leave to walk on the terrace, under the Ordnance house, for the benefit of his health; a liberty which Sir Walter Raleigh and the Earl of Northumberland then enjoyed. This indulgence was refused, but a change was made in his lodgings, from the gloomy Brick tower on the northern wall, to the cheery Water gate on the Thames. Gray fancied that Northampton had become his friend, after being for so many years Ins foe. The Earl was never to be feared so much as when he appeared to be doing good.

* The right at repabUahing "Her Maiertj'a T«Mr'' aaab— t iiifcmlbytbapropritonof rt«»mwitswrfn.

William Seymour (afterwards Doke of Somer set) had juat escaped from the Water gat* ; and his wife, the Lady Arabella, had been ordered to the Tower. Thus, the lady who had been Grey's unwitting demon, was onoe more brought within his range; and through the treacherous courtesies of Northampton, the evil of his younger time repeated itself in his desolate oelL The royal lady lay in the Belfry and the Lieutenant's house; their, prisons were therefore near each other. One of Arabella's women contrived to see Grey in the Water gate, and via lordship was accused of sending love-mewagee to the royal lady. Grey denied it; turning the affair into an act of innocent flirting with her maid ; but the rumor served Northampton's purpose; for the King became alarmed at what he supposed to be a new intrigue; the chance of pardon for the lady vanished; and Grey was ordered into close confinement in his tower. This rank injustice broke his spirit In this Water gate the last Lord Grey' of Wilton died, in the summer of 1614, eleven years after his first arrest in Sluys ; leaving a mother, who quiokly followed her noble and gallant son, and a sister, from whom descend the Grey- Egertons, now the sole representatives of Arthur and Sibyl Grey. Inexorable Death In this sole stroke Had lopt the laurel and hewn down the oak. , Yet, brief as were his days in the Tower, Grey longoutlived the Jesuit schemerof White Webb*.

Chaptbb X. IOWDSB-PLOT BOOM. Orb chamber in the Lieutenant's house has a life apart from the rest; a chamber on the upper tier } built on the old wall, with oaken panels, and a window opening on the Thames. In a house of no great sice, this room looks large, and the window in it is high and wide. No one could mistake it for a prisoner's oell; yet this chamber on the old wall is almost as famous in English story as the Belfry and the Bloody tower. The mantel-pieoe shows a royal bust; the wall is plated with records from a royal pan. Round the cornice are the shields of some of our noblest families; Howards, Somersets, Cecils, Humes, and Blounto. The bust, though stained to look like bronze, is carved in wood; while the panels are laden with much lattnity and many historic lies. t The wooden head is that of James the First^ the lying record is that of the Powder Plot James used to speak of the Powder Plot as his master-piece; a term which might be taken to hint that the King had worked it out from his own fancy, much as. Cecil had worked out the Arabella Plot. But this could not have been his meaning. James had neither the wit to conceive, nor the steadiness to control, such a scheme of political vengeance. The plot was an actual plot, with living agents and a settled plan. Yet the dreamers who ascribe this plqt, in general terms, to the Catholic olerfcy and laity, go further astray from fact' thah & dreamers who ascribe it to King James. The plot was not a Catholic plot. , This wild project of political murder was the work of a few converts from the English Church, conducted by a gang of outlaws and fanatics, not only against the conscience, bnt against the interest, of uvery Catholic in the realm. The Pope condemned it The Arohpriest condemned it All the sebiilar priests and all their sober flocks condemned it What these children: of Bt Edward and 8t Thomas had to do with the Powder Plot, was to bear, during many reigns, under protests whioh were seldom heard, the social odium and political penalty of a crime which they abhorred, . ' ; Nor was this project properly a Jesuit crime. It found some friends in the Order of Jesus beyond a doubt; but these friends of the Powder Plot were of no high standing in the body, and the society, as a society, gave them no support Dot one, but many, of the more emi nent fathers fought against the scheme. The General, Claudius Aquaviva, set his face against the plotters, when he could only guess their purpose, and when the details reached him, jnst as he was entering on the festival of Christmas, the noble old man was smitten to the heart Those who throw the blame on Catholics miss the great moral of the crime. The men who contrived, the men who prepared, the men who sanctioned, this scheme of assas sination were, one and all, of Protetant birth. Father Persons was Protestant born. Father Owen and Father Garnet were Protestants born. From what is known of Winter's early life,' it may be assumed that he was a Protestant Catesby and Wright had. been Protestant boys. Guy Fawkes had been a Protestant Percy had been a Protestant The minor persons were like their chiefs—apostates from their early faith, with the moody weakness which is an apostate's inspiration and his curse. Tresham was a con-l vert—Monteagle was a convert—Digby was a' convert Thomas Morgan, Robert Kay, and Kit Wright, were all converts. The five gentlemen^ who dug the mine in Palace-yard were all of English blood and of Protestant birth. But they were. converts and fanatics, observing no law save that of their own passions; men of whom it should be said, in justice to all religions, thai they no more disgraced the ohurch which they entered than that which they had left The plot was the main clerical effort of that Spanish conspiracy against English law which the converted Jesuits had been trained to con duct ; a political oonfliet in which these English Jesuits appealed to the sword and perished by the sword. The first panel on the wall, a pious prayer, Pagan in form, yet far from classical in style, sets forth the virtues and dignities of those who were to have suffered in the explosion : Jaoobra Magnra Magna Brttania Bex, pietate, JTrtitia, prrdenti*, doctrln*, tatftrdim. dementi*, eeteriaq. Tirtrttbn regJia elarW; CbriatUna) Fidel, aaMia public*, pad* TniTeneJia proprgnatar, f»Ttor, ATctor, aoerrimTa, argviiiaa*, arvpicatW. Anna Begin* Predezici 2. Danorr Begia inTietiaa filia asraniat Haariert Prinoapa, natrrasoraamentia, rtni Hl—nfwaliiils Gratia mTneribn, inatrrctiaV; nobie & natra fc A Deo data. OaiolvaDrz EboracenaUdiTimad omaamTirtrteiaiDdale. Efcabatb* Ttriraq. aoror German*, rtcoqre pansrte, Digniaainiak Hoa, relrt prpubun ocrli *«MH«n PnjTkrra nrnii, procri impiortm Impair alarm tarrm btfnpmW , Condeavbrabn.

No one but James wu likely to have penned this invocation ; in English thus: "James the Great, King of Great Britain,, Illustrious for piety, justice, foresight, learning, hardihood, clemency, and the other regal virtues ; champion and patron of the Christian faith; of the public safety, and of universal peace; author most subtle, most august, and most auspicious: "Queen Ann, the most serene daughter of Frederick the Secoud, invincible King of the Danes: "Prinoe Henry, ornament of nature, strength ened with learning, blest with grace, born and given to ub froni God: " Charles, Duke of York, divinely disposed to every virtue: "Elizabeth, full sister of both; most worthy of her parents: "Do Thou, all-seeing, protect these as the apple of the eye, and guard them without fear from wicked men beneath the shadow of Thy wings." Then oomes a list of Lords Commissioners, followed by the chief panel of the series, in more pretentious and much worse Latin than the first. This panel, the work of Sir William Waad, con tains the following votive offering from the King's Lieutenant of the Tower: Deo Opt: max: trivno, aoapitatori, h (Tantte, tarn atroola, tamq. increaibilia in Regan : Lementiaa: in Reginam aerenW: in dirinn indolu U op timia apei Principem, cteteramq. progeniem regiani, et in omnem omnium ordinem, k nobilitatia antiquse, k fortt-' tudinia arit«e et pietatia caatiaaimn, k juatltias aanc tiaalmw florem prseoipvum, oonjuntionia exequendn nd troai pulverii avbjeotl infUmmatione, Chrictianaa Y«r»q. xeligionia extlngvenda) frrioea libidine, et ngni atirpitua evertendi nefaria ovpiditate, a Jeaoitia Romanenaibua perflde Catholic* k impietatia viperinas artoribua & aaaaertoribua, aliiaq. ejnadem amientias aoeleriaq. patra toribua k aooiia artoeptas k in ipao peatia derepenUe in ferendn artioulo(ialutia anno+l6os+menaia Norombria die quinto) tarn pneter apetn, qnam aupra fldem mbdflee et dirinitna deteotas aTerrrnoo, et yindid, gratea qoanUa animi oapeie poaaent maxima* et immortalea. A. nobia omnibna, et poateria noatris babere et agi Qvlielmus WaademileaTvrri a domino ngepnofeotua, poaltoperpetqo Hoc monomento rolrit, die nono means Octb. anno regni Jaoobi Prime ttxto Ano. Dni. l«08. " In English thus : "To Almighty God, the guardian, arrester, and avenger,—who has punished this great and incredible conspiracy against our most merciful lord the King, our most serene lady the Queet, oar divinely-disposed Prinoe, and the rest of our' royal house, and agaiuat all persons of qaality, our ancient nobility, our soldiers, prelates, ana judges ; the authors and advocates of which con spiracy, Romanised Jesuits, of perfidious, Catho lic, and serpent-like ungodliness, with others equally criminal and insane, were moved by the furious desire of destroying the true Christian religion, and by the treasonous hope of over* throwing the kingdom, root and branch; and which was suddenly, wonderfully, and divinely detected, at the very moment when the ruin was impending, on the fifth day of November, in the year of grace 1605,—William Waad, whom the King has appointed his Lieutenant of the Tower, returns, on the ninth of October, in the sixth year of the reign of James the First, 1608, hjs great and everlasting thanks." ? i After this panel oomes a third, containing a list of the oonspirators' names, both elerioal and lay, with tags of pious verse and foolish appeals to gods and men. These panels on the wall record a series of noticeable scenes. . . About the hour of noon, on a dark November day, in the year 1605. a very high company came down from Whitehall Palace to the Tower; men in whose sleepless eyes and troubled haste of speech a drama of nnusual tension might be read. Sir William Waad, then new in offioe, met them by the gate: but the greeting which these great ones deigned to give their humble tool was scant. A small bent man, past middle age, with shuffling gait and furtive eyes, passed in, going duickly through the arch of that Bloody tower in which Raleigh was then confined, and straight across the Green to the new Lieutenant's house. The small bent man and three gallant personages who followed him had each a George upon bis breast They met in this poor chamber on the wall to examine a prisoner then in the Tower, on a matter which would cause the place in whiou they sat to be called in all future times this Powder Plot Room. Who these persons were may be read on these panels—their names, their titles, and the offices they held—names which are familiar still, not by the Thames only, but in every cone of the earth in which our English speech is heard. In the chair sat Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, Secretary of State; and near him were Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham, Lord High Admiral; Charles Blount, Earl of Devon, Lord Lieutenant qf Ireland; and Henry Howard, Earl of North ampton, Lord Privy Seat Is it too much to say that high as were the offices filled by these Knights of the Garter, the men had high* claims to notioe than their official rank ? Cecil was a son of Lord Burghley, a cousin of Sir Francis Bacon — Nottingham disputed with Raleigh the foremost place at sea—Mountjoy was hardly more renowned as the Pacificator of Ireland than as the friend of Sydney the second and favorite son of Surrey, was a scholar, a writer, a speaker of the highest class. Cecil laid before the lords a paper, drawn that very day (Tuesday, November 6), and written from first to last by the King's own pen. This paper, addressed to the Lords Commissioners for the Plot, directed certain peers and gentlemen, in quaint old Scottish phrase, to question a prisoner then in the Tower, and to make him tell the troth by gentle means, if gentle means would serve ; if not, by slinging him to the hook and binding fritn on the rack. The man to be examined had been seized on the previous night, on the door-steps of a house in Parliament-place, under circumstances to excite the wildest terror. Dragged by armed men to Whitehall, and brought into the King's presence, he had been questioned by James him self, as to who he was and what he meant to do; to which questions he had answered with reck less devilry, that he was a poor serving-man, and that he meant to slay, by a sudden burst of powder, laid in a vault beneath the throne, the King and Queen, the young prince, the royal councillors and judges, with the principal persons of the court Pressed still more, he had given his own name as John Johnson and his master's name as Thomas Percy, one of the

King's Qentlemen Pensioners, s kinsman of the great northern EarL. Bandying jokes with the guard, this fellow hsd shown a savage scorn of life which all but fascinated James. After he had left the presence, a letter hsd been found in his clothes ; a letter written in French, and by a lady's pen. This letter, found upon him open, wss signed Elisabeth Vaux (the lady of Harrowden), and wss addressed to him as Quido Fawkes. At s sign from Cecil, Wsad brought in his prisoner. Some of the lords, not. all, hsd seen that face before; seen it for an Jiour under the glare of fitful : limps, in the midst of scared, inquisitive eyes; .when, roused from their beds, and hurried to Whitehall st midnight, they had heard from the royal lips a tale, the like of which oourtiers have seldom been called to hear in the dead of night from kings. They had seen the black brow beetling over those fiery orbs, now sullen with rampant rage, now rippling with low, flares laughter, ss the King, seated on the edge of his bed, forosd out in gasps snd screams his version of the powder snd the mine ; and now, in the fog of s November noon, they looked on that faoe again.

Chaptbb XL OUT TAWKES. A MAI* to study with s curious' sit was ths stiff, bronsed fellow, with sandy beard' snd fell of auburn hair, now, standing in this Tudor room, before judges of such high fame snd power, snd answering these lords of war snd masters ol law ss lightly ss though the enquiry were some tavern jest; giving ths false name of Johnson, the false description of s serving-man; snd only laughing roughly when they found him out. Tall, strongly built, and thirty-five years old, he stood before them in the prime of all his powers. His fsoe wss good, in some of its aspects fine. His tones were those of gentle life; his words, though fsw, were choice; snd his bearing spoke of both the cloister snd the camp. Despite the grime upon his bands, the grime of coal snd powder, he wss evidently s msn of birth. Mountjoy could see that he hsd been a soldier; Northampton found him sn adept in the schools. Even CecO, who knew s good deal more shout him than he liked to ssy, wss smitten by bis jaunty sir. ." He is no more dismayed," wrote the Secretary of State, "than if he were taken for a poor sob* bery on the highway." Not a dosen hours had yet passed by sinos he wss seised in Parliament* place; seised in the very fact, with mstcbes in his pocket, with a lantern behind the door, and in suoh guise and manner as made his oonviotion sure. All that oould have happened to cross his purpose and crush his spirit had come to pass. His plans had failed, his friends were scattered, his cause was lost. Behind him lay the wreck of a life; before him lowered the gaol, the raok»the gibbet, snd the yelling crowd. All that he oould call his own on earth, was a day of feverish pain, an infamous and cruel death, a memory laden with a lasting curse. Yet tbe man wss rock. The lords had spent a sleepless night, and he had slumbered like a child. They had been tossing on beds of down, while he hsd been sleeping on a plait of straw. They had sought for rest in vain under painted ceilings, and he had been dreaming lightly in the darkest dungeon of the Tower. The Lieutenant, coming early to his cell, hsd found him sleeping "ss a man void of trouble." Not that he was oold and strong; still less that he was dark and subtle. The msn was open, snd even frank. He told the truth, so far ss he meant to speak, at once. When he told a lis, he told it of fixed design; snd rather to screen some brother in misfortune than to save himself. He was neither mercenary, nor inscrutable, nor heroic; he was simply a fanatic, with the vices and virtues which oolong to a fanatic Like nearly all fanatics, he was a convert to his faith, glowing with the seal which shsrpens a fakir's knife, and oomforts a martyr at the stake. Fasting snd observance had helped to drive him mad: until he felt, like many of those familiars of the Holy Office whom he bad met in Antwerp and Madrid, that it was his duty to kill men's bodies on the chano* of saving souls. [to as oosTnrosn.]

A Wrirb in Harper* $ Baacfr give* the following excellent advice:—By all business people a plain, legible ityle of writing it most valued; therefore those who would write well should follow these rules; Write your own " hand." ImproTe it as you will, bat keep it your own. Write plainly, forming every letter, and especially take pains to make all proper nouns or unusual words very legible. Write as, uniformly as possible, and especially when writing your name or signature. Avoid' all flourishes. On the ability to follow these simple rules may rest the ohanoe of obtaining a situation. To those who are writing for the press, or aspire to do so, we have limply to say that they often fail to gain a hearing on account of the "bad oopy"they present Manuscript should be written plainly. If writers only knew the immense trouble that illegible copy gives to editors and compositors, they would endeavor to write more plainly. Every Word should be written distinctly, so that there shall be no need for guess-work on the part of the person who is to read it. Whir Opie was first heard of, his fame rested on a very humble foundation. He was asked what he had painted to acquire him the Tillage reputation he enjoyed. His answer warn, "I ha' painted Duke William for the signs, and stars and rich-like for the boys' kites." Dr. Wolcot (Peter Pindar) told him some time after that he should paint portraits as the most pro fitable employment "Sol ha' ; I ha' painted Farmer So-and-So, and neighbor Buch-a-One, with their wives and eight or ten children." "And how much did you receive f "Why, Farmer So-and-So said it were but right to encourage genus, and so he ga* me half a guinea." " Why, sir, you should get at least half a guinea for every head !" " Oh, na; that winna do—it would ruin the country !" What is Love?—An American Johnson is ready with the definition : " A prodigal desire on the part of a young man to pay some ymng woman's board.