Agnes Strickland's Queens of England (27 page)

King James summoned parliament in June because the Duke of Argyle raised a rebellion in Scotland, while Monmouth did the same in England, and funds were required to suppress both. Monmouth had always been one of James's bitterest and most dangerous enemies, because he thought he had a claim to the throne; he therefore issued a proclamation, denouncing the king " as a usurper, a murderer, a traitqr, and a tyrant." He accused James of burning the city of London, of murdering Godfrey, — both events are treated of in the last reign, — of cutting the throat of Essex, and of poisoning his brother, Charles H. He raised an army of ten thousand men, and received so much encouragement at Taunton that he proclaimed himself king, and set a price on the head of " the usurper, James, Duke of York."

DUKE OF MONMOUTH.

Such prompt and active measures were taken by the royal party that both Argyle and Monmouth were defeated and captured. The latter implored the king for mercy, and succeeded in obtaining a private interview. James had forgiven this bold man for many personal offences when he was Duke of York, but now his position was altered. He was King of England, and could not find it in his conscience to pardon an offender who had plunged his realm into civil war, and sacrificed the lives of three thousand of his subjects. Story, the orator, was taken prisoner for assisting Monmouth with his exciting speeches, that went far towards raising the popular indignation against the sovereign.

When summoned to appear before the council he looked so haggard, neglected, and dirty that King James exclaimed, " Is that a man, or what is it ?" On being informed that it was the rebel Story, his majesty replied: "Oh, Story; I remember him — a rare fellow, indeed." Then turning towards him, the king asked: " Pray, Story, you were in Monmouth's army in the west, were you not ?"

" Yes, an 't please your majesty."

"Pray, you were a commissary there, were you not?" asked the king.

" Yes, an 't please your majesty."

" And you made a speech before great crowds of people, did you not ?" was the next question.

" Yes, an 't please your majesty," answered Story.

" Pray, if you have not forgot what you said, let us have a taste of your fine speech, some specimen of the flowers of your rhetoric."

" I told them, an 't please your majesty, that it was you who fired the city of London," boldly answered Story.

" A rare rogue, upon my word," exclaimed James; " and, pray, what else did you tell them ? "

" I told them, an 't please your majesty, that you poisoned your brother,"

" Impudence in the utmost height of it! " said the king. " Pray, let us have something further, if your memory serves you."

" I further told them," continued Story, " that your majesty appeared to be fully determined to make the nation both papists and slaves."

The king had heard enough, and no doubt wondered at the audacity of a man who dared to accuse him to his face of crimes that his very soul would have revolted at. But with remarkable clemency his majesty added: " To all this I doubt not but a thousand other villanous things were added. But what would you say, Story, if after all this I were to grant your life ? "

He answered, " That he would pray for his majesty as long as he lived,"

Thereupon he was freely pardoned, but Monmouth and Argyle were executed.

This victory of King James's would have increased his popularity and made him extremely powerful, had it not been for the cruel deeds that resulted from it. But Colonel Kirke and Chief-Justice Jeffreys were two barbarians, who caused the execution of thousands, whether innocent or guilty; going from one town to another whence Monmouth had gathered his forces, and committing most unheard-of cruelties.

Such deeds, added to the mistake James made in attempting to have everything his own way, regardless of the will of parliament, led to his ruin and downfall. Popular indignation was aroused against all Roman Catholics, King James included, when Louis XIV, revoked the edict of Nantes. This was a law that had been made by Henry IV., granting the free exercise of religion to all Protestants, and

when it was withdrawn, of course, persecutions followed. The result was that nearly fifty thousand Protestants sought refuge in England, and King James treated them with a great deal of consideration.

[A.D. 1687.] The queen spent part of the spring of 1687 at Richmond Palace, while James visited his camp at Hounslow; but her health was so poor that she was ordered by her physicians to take a course of treatment at Bath, and while there news of her mother's death reached her. This was a sad bereavement, and one from which Mary Beatrice did not soon recover. It opened a correspondence between her and the Prince of Orange, who, while expressing affectionate sympathy, was secretly plotting for the overthrow of his royal father-in-law. The king was very much under the influence of Sunderland, and of the Jesuit, Father Petre, both bad advisers; but he was also on terms of intimacy with William Penn, the founder of the State of Pennsylvania, This high-minded Quaker entered the king's presence one day, shortly after he ascended the throne, with his hat on his head. James immediately removed his, whereupon Penn said : " Friend James, why dost thou uncover thy head ?" The king replied with a smile : " Because it is the fashion here for only one man to wear his hat."

Penn was sent to Holland to persuade William, Prince of Orange, to concur with the king in trying to do away with those laws that interfered with religious privileges in England, but met with no success, either with him or his wife, Mary.

[A.D. 1688.] Queen Mary Beatrice had a little son born at St. James's Palace in 1688, and there was great rejoicing among the king's friends when the infant prince appeared, which was echoed in Edinburgh.

The royal father felt so happy at the birth of his son that,

in an evil hour, he granted forgiveness to Nathaniel Hook, who had been the Duke of Monmouth's chaplain. This man became one of the tools of William of Orange, and acted as a spy on the actions of the sovereign who had shown him such mercy.

A grand display of fireworks took place in honor of the prince's birth when he was a few weeks old, and the royal couple were present at the palace window to witness it. Mary Beatrice was gratified by a letter of congratulation sent by the pope on the birth of her son, because his holiness had never been friendly since she married without his consent, nor was he now, as we shall see.

The persons who were anything but pleased at the little fellow's appearance in the world were William of Orange and his wife, because both felt that he was in their way as heir to the crown.

One of William's agents was discovered at Rome in secret correspondence with the pope's secretary. Count Cassoni. He was disguised as a peddler of artificial fruit, which, on being opened, were found to contain slips of paper, written in cypher, that disclosed a plan for the destruction of the king and the little prince. William of Orange was at the bottom of the conspiracy, and intended to carry out his purpose in this way: The pope was to supply funds to be used by the Prince of Orange for the invasion of England, which coming from such a source would not be suspected. All this was disclosed by the slips of paper contained in the fruit, and reached the ears of King James himself.

The royal infant was so very ill when he was about two months old that it was thought each moment would be his last; however, he was provided with a good healthy nurse and got well, much to the delight of his parents, and the disgust of those whose interest it was to wish him out of the

way. Then the king and queen with their household removed to Whitehall, and soon after her majesty's birthday was observed with the usual ceremonies and rejoicings.

Mary Beatrice kept up a regular correspondence with the Prince of Orange, with whom she had always been on the most loving terms, and did not know what to make of the news that came to her about this time. It was that the Dutch fleet was hovering ofif the coast of England, ready at a moment's notice to make an attack. The queen could not believe such horrible tidings, and wrote her daughter: " That it was reported the Prince of Orange was coming over with an army, and that her highness would accompany him; but she never would believe her capable of turning against a good father, who, she believed, had always loved her the best of all his children." It was, nevertheless, true, and the storm that was to drive King James from the throne was gathering darkly and surely. James had committed some grave mistakes as a ruler, as a politician, as a theologian, and gladly would he have made amends, but it was too late. The King of France offered assistance, but with all his faults James loved his country too well to allow a foreign army to come to his rescue. He preferred other measures, whereby he hoped and fondly expected to avert the horrors of civil war. But his enemies were in his very household, and treachery surrounded him on all sides. The men who breakfasted with him in the morning, and pretended to be most loyal, deserted him before night. When he ought to have gone in person to repel the attacks of the Dutch fleet, he was persuaded by traitors to stay and defend the metropolis. When at last he did go he was so ill, so broken down, both in mind and body as to be utterly unfit for exertion of any kind. His confidential councillors went over to the enemy, and as the Prince of Orange advanced with his forces, James retreated towards London,

paralyzed by the treachery that was daily brought to light. But the most heartrending blow of all awaited him on his return to the metropolis, for the first news he heard was that Princess Anne had deserted him. " God help me! " he exclaimed, bursting into tears^ " My own children have forsaken me in my distress," When he entered the palace he added in the bitterness of his grief, " Oh, if mine enemies only had cursed me, I could have borne it! "

Now, the unfortunate king's anxiety was for the faithful wife who had awaited his return in fear and trembling, and the innocent baby whose life the fond father feared was in danger. The valiant James Stuart of former years no longer existed; for he would not have submitted to the advance of a-foe without offering desperate resistance, nor would he have abandoned his country at a moment when she needed his services.

The heart-broken King James summoned his council, asked their advice, and appealed to their loyalty. They told him " he had no one to blame but himself," but offered no comfort or assistance. Indignation at the base treatment of those who ought to have stood by him in his adversity and grief, at the thought of the strait to which his own bad management had brought himself and his dear ones, had turned poor King James's mind; he could no longer protect his realm, for he was not in a condition to decide clearly on any subject. His entire attention was now turned towards the only two beings who were left him in the world, — his wife and baby; and those he was determined to save though he should forfeit his own life.

It so happened that two Frenchmen, named Count de Lauzun and his friend St. Victor, had become so interested in King James and the state of affairs in England that they had offered their services to the distressed sovereign. To these two gentlemen James resolved to intrust the care of

his wife and child, and they eagerly consented to undertake the dangerous task of conveying them to France, They met the king and decided upon a plan so secretly that it was not suspected by any one. St. Victor went to Graves-end and hired two yachts, — one in the name of an Italian lady about to return to her own country, the other in that of Count Lauzun.

December 9 was the day appointed for the queen to leave London. It was Sunday, but some of the advanced troops of the prince's army, who had dispersed in different parts of the city, began the day by burning Catholic houses and chapels, and creating a tumult that terrified the peaceful citizens, while tidings of other dreadful occurrences came from all parts of the kingdom. When night approached the queen implored her husband to allow her to remain and share his peril, but he assured her that he would follow her within twenty-four hours, and that it was necessary for the safety of their child that she should precede him. At ten o'clock their majesties went to bed, and when all was dark and quiet in the palace they got up and began preparations for departure. Shortly after midnight St. Victor ascended a secret staircase to the king's apartment. He was dressed like a common sailor, though he was well-armed underneath his coarse attire, and brought a disguise for the queen. Lady Strickland was in waiting that night, and assisted her majesty until two o'clock, when all who were to share the journey met in the apartment of Madame Labadie, where the prince had been carried secretly some time before.

Turning to the count, King James said : " I confide my queen and son to your care ; all must be hazarded to convey them with the utmost speed to France." Reserving a silence that was more eloquent than words, the queen gave her husband a parting look, then crossed the grand hall,

and stole softly down the back-stairs with St. Victor, who had possessed himself of the keys. The two nurses followed close behind with the sleeping infant. A coach that St. Victor had borrowed from an Italian friend, without telling him to what use it was to be employed, stood at the gate. The queen, Count de Lauzun, and the two nurses with the baby entered, while St. Victor took his seat beside the coachman, and Mary Beatrice left Whitehall never to return. The coach had to pass six sentinels, who called out, " Who goes there ?" Each time St. Victor replied boldly, " A friend," and, showing the keys, was permitted to pass without opposition. At Westminster the fugitives entered a boat in which St. Victor had crossed on several previous nights with his gun and a basket of cold provisions to make believe that he was a sportsman and thus avoid suspicion. But this particular night was so stormy, and the rain poured in such torrents, that the boatman must have known no unimportant errand would tempt a woman with an infant six months old to make so dangerous a trip, for the river had swollen, and the wind was blowing violently. When the travellers reached the opposite bank, which was at last accomplished after a great deal of difficulty, St. Victor looked anxiously around for the carriage that ought to have stood in waiting as he had arranged ; but Monsieur Dusions, one of her majesty's pages, appeared promptly at a call, and said that it was still at the inn. St. Victor ran to fetch it, leaving De Lauzun to protect the queen, who stood for shelter under the walls of the old church at Lambeth, with her infant clasped close to her breast, dreading lest he should wake and betray her presence by his cries. But the little prince behaved well throughout the journey, happily unconscious of the danger to which he was exposed. Meanwhile St. Victor, at the inn-yard had excited some curiosity by his agitated manner, and his foreign