A history of the English and Scotch rebellions of 1685, etc

Front matter

THE HISTORY OF THE BRITISH REBELLION OF 168 5. A HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH AND SCOTCH REBELLIONS or 1685. DESCRIBING THE STRUGGLES OF THE ENGLISH AND SCOTCH PEOPLE TO RID THEMSELVES OF A POPISH KING, JAMES THE SECOND. THE DUKE OF MONMOUTH HEADING THE REBELLION IN ENGLAND. AND THE EARL OF ARGYLE THAT ' OF SCOTLAND. THEIR ADVENTUROUS CAREER, MELANCHOLY DEFEATURE, AND SAD CONSEQUENCES. nr JULIA AV. H. GEORGE. " Details are the physiognomy of character, and by them they engrave themselves upon the imagination." Lamartine. NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED BY CADY & EURGES3, 60 JOHN-STREET. 1831. Entered according to Act of Congress, by Julia W, H. GeobGe, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and fifty-one, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New-York. D. Fanshaw, Printer, 35 Ann, cor. of KaSsan-st

Preface

. ''The tastes of those who Avere the rising generation when the Waverly Novels were the absorbing theme," says a celebrated writer, " have become matured. They require to have history rendered as agreeable without fiction as with it. They desire to have it written without sacrificing truth to fastidiousness, that they may read it with their children ; and that the Avhole family party shall be eager to resume the book Avhen they gather round the work-table in the long Avinter evenings," when amusement blended with instruction, through works con veying a knoAvledge of the past, shall be that proper and wholesome food Avhich has truth for its basis, and facts, not fancies, for its superstructure. There is an universal thirst in the present age for this kind of reading ; and every work issuing from the press bearing on its title page records of deeds of actual occurrence, with their heroes and heroines faithfully por trayed, meets with a ready grasp from thousands of eager and expectant hearts ; as the dry chronicles of ancient times, perused as tasks in early youth, have left little remembrance of the realities of those times Avhich the chivalrous age and spirit of the past render, in truth, so absorbing and interesting.

PREFACE.

. Books in former ages Avere written for the few ; now they are penned for the many. A more general de velopement of mind and character pervades all classes, and the peasant and the prince may now almost, we might say, enjoy alike the labors of those who are instru mental in giving additional light to what has been rendered hitherto too obscure in its details for general adaptation and improvement. The following pages give a history of the Rebellion of 1685, headed by James Scot, Duke of Monmouth, the eldest illegitimate son of Charles the Second, whose career is perhaps one of the most remarkable upon record. In tracing the sad consequences of his ill-advised invasion, while strictly confining ourselves to facts, we shall also endeavor so to delineate his character and motives, as shall place before our readers a full and complete his tory of the eventful period in which he performed so conspicuous a part.

The Earl of Argyle led the rebellion in Scotland about the same time. An anachronism will be found in the manner in which Ave have placed their histories ; the Scottish rebellion having commenced and ended before that of England was terminated ; but as the narration of facts are strictly given, this Avas deemed unimportant. In this work there will be found little allusion to notes or " documentary testimony ;" but what is here ad duced has been derived from true and reliable sources, and the details related, therefore, depended on as authentic. Argyle's character was very different to that of Mon mouth, and he might truly be said to have erred on

PREFACE.

. virtue's side. Like Monmouth, however, he wanted that firmness of purpose and will, necessary to a commander ; determination in a leader, being equally as essential as obedience in a subordinate. As the title imports, it is a chronicle of the events of the time, as they occurred, faithfully portraying one of the most suffering periods England has ever known. New-York, March, 1851. THE HISTORY OF THE BRITISH REBELLION OF 1685,

Chapter I

. Dissatisfaction and disaffection distinguished a large portion of both public and private individuals during the latter years of the reign of Charles the Second, which Avas still more increased Avhen they considered that to their present grievances, by the succession of the duke his brother, all the horrors of a Papal administration would be added. To rid themselves of so odious a necessity many plans had been formed, and many plots entered into, but failure and discovery had, so far, only been the result. Baf fled, but not by that means deprived of hopes of accomplishing their end, Ave find the Avhigs, in the Spring of 1681, convened to concert measures to carry a plan into execution to preA^ent the Duke of York from ever ascending the throne of England. Charles had been taken suddenly ill at Windsor Castle, and, by his physicians, thought in a very dangerous condition.

Under those circumstances no time for the accomplishment of their object was to ■i be lost. The Duke of Monmouth, Charles' eldest illegitimate son, therefore, with his colleagues, Lord Grey, Lord Russell, and the restless Lord Shaftes bury, thought this the proper opportunity to organize their plans, and, in the event of the king's ill ness proving fatal, to rise in arms against the succession of his brother. Charles recovered, but the designs they had form ed were not on this account abandoned. These con spirators, together with the Earls of Essex and Salisbury, determined on continuing the Oxford par liament after the king should dissolve it, which in a few days was to take place. To this end they detained several lords in the house under pretext of sigDing the impeachment of Fitzharris.

At this juncture neAvs reached them that the commons had broken up in great consternation, among whom were leaders in the same desperate measure, which acted on them like magic, and they at once resolved upon separat ing, though still determined to persevere. Shaftesbury, more unfortunate than the others, was taken up and imprisoned, and this, for some time, ended their plottings and machinations. But the smouldering fire, which, notwithstanding its progress, was for a time hidden beneath an exterior of calm and safe quiet, was to burst forth with renewed violence. The seeds of rebellion had been sown on no ungenial soil, the grains had taken root, and were expanding hidden, but deep ; and the fruits would manifest themselves at no very distant day. The spirit of sedition was spreading fast, both in town and country.

Monmouth, in the meantime, had engaged the Earl of Macclesfield, Lord Brendon, Sir Gilbert Gerard, and other gentlemen of Cheshire ; Lord Russell entered into a correspondence with Sir William Courtenay, Sir Francis Drake, and Sir Francis Rowe, Avho pro mised to raise the West. While one William Tren chard promised the conspirators a large interest in the disaffected town of Taunton, where he said he had considerable influence. Lord Shaftesbury had been set at liberty, as no sufficient cause could be proved for his further deten tion in prison, though he was known to be a dangerous person. He therefore commenced operations in London, assisted by Robert Ferguson, a violent whig, and a most inveterate talker, Avho used that talent in stirring up all whom he came across to join Mon mouth's standard, and assist at this great juncture in endeavoring to prevent a Catholic ruler occupying the British throne.

He had been an Independantcler gyman, and was listened to the more readily on that account, inspiring confidence Avherever he Avent, and being made the recipient of all the movements going forward in the different counties by the several par ties employed to correspond on the subject. Lord Shaftesbury's disposition little fitted him for the office he had undertaken. Fearful and nervous, BRITISH RBBKLLION. he realized all the horrors of his desperate situation, though full of schemes of daring, and longing to come to that crisis when action Avould give full scope and exercise for these restless feelings, for whom quiet and suspense was torture in the highest degree. He was therefore indefatigable in his endeavors to bring about this desired consummation. Secreting himself by day and prowling about all night, his constant exordium was, " Let us commence at once, let us lose no time, lest, the knowledge of our intentions getting wind, the whole thing should explode and come to nothing at last."

Meetings were, therefore, constantly being held at the houses of different Avhigs in London, par ticularly at one Shepherd's, a wine merchant, more zealous than the rest, and, like Shaftesbury, panting for action. The plan of the insurrection Avas here at length formed. Devonshire, Cheshire and Bristol were to be the places of rendezvous ; all the operation Avere laid down, and even the state of the guards examined and discussed, and an attack pronounced practicable. Then followed the reading of a declara tion, in which they justified themselves to the public for the steps they were about to take. Every preliminary being thus agreed upon, no thing seemed to remain but to commence the insurrec tion at once, which would have been the case had not news arrived from Trenchard, that the rising in the west of England could not be in sufficient forward ness for some weeks to come.

The impatience of Shaftesbury's temper could ill brook this delay, for he thought that success could alone be secured by instantaneous measures. He could command, he said, ten thousand himself, ready at the beck of his finger to spring forth and fly to their arms. This was very annoying to Monmouth and Rus sell, for their calculations were made with more judg ment and coolness than that of their colleague ; and they were afraid of what it would eventually drive him to, and it did end in his giving up all in a pa roxism of rage, and flying to Amsterdam, where, having given great dissatisfaction for his former councils against the Dutch commonwealth, he was refused every public appointment he solicited, and in a short time died, little, alas ! deplored or lamented. His furious temper, it was discovered, had done great injury to the cause in Avhich he Avas engaged, the iniquitous designs he entertained being of a nature so heinous that they would have been destruc tive in the highest degree in a faction where unanimi ty of interests were above all things necessary, and an assumption at least, of purity of purpose in their designs.

The death of Shaftesbury was productive of much evil to their plans, the conspirators in the city hav ing rested their entire dependance in his lordship, and looked upon him as their leader. The circumstances in which they were placed, however, required a movement of some kind ; and, after mature delibera tion, they agreed to stand by each other and to or ganize their plans, and then commence the insurrection. A council of six was therefore formed, consisting of Monmouth, Russell, Essex, Howard, Algernon, Sidney, and John Hampden, grand-son of the great parliamentary leader. These men entered into an agreement Avith Argj'le and the Scottish mal-con tents, then in Holland, for the payment of ten thousand pounds to purchase arms, and in order to bring them into the field. With all this seeming unanimity of purpose, each of the conspirators had their own peculiar ends in view.

Sidney and Essex were desirous of establish ing a commonwealth ; Hampden and Russell were zea lously attached to the ancient constitution, and wish ed to exclude the duke, and redress all the grievan ces of the people. But Monmouth differed from them all, he wished to possess the croivn. With these several purposes in view they were, however, united in one common feeling of discontent at Charles' administration, and hatred of the Duke, his brother and suc cessor, so that the insurrection was resolved on by all who had engaged in forwarding so daring an act. UnknoAvn to the conspirators there was yet ano ther plot in active operation, and numbered among its leaders West, Tyley, Norton and Ay loffe,lawyers ; Fer guson, Rouse, Hone, Ruling, Holloway, BroAvne, Lee, and Rumbould. They held meetings for the purpose of BRITI&H REBELLION. 15 concerting measures for the assassination of the king and the duke.

Nothing could surpass the heartless ness of these men when discussing this subject, Avhich they familiarly termed " lopping." One plan formed was to waylay Charles as he returned from the races. Rumbould, who was a maltster, and possessed an es tate which lay in the way to New Market, laid before them a plan of his farm, showing how easy it Avould be, by overturning a cart, to upset the king's coach and then fire on him from behind the hedges. But this was providentially prevented by the house Avhich he occupied at New Market suddenly taking fire, obliging him to fly a week before his usual time, and ere their plans had been matured, or they had provid ed themselves with arms necessary for carrying them into execution. Indeed it all amounted to little more than talk, and their meeting resulted in scarcely any-. thing beyond the expression of the rancorous feel ings which they fostered against the king and the duke.

This was called the rye-house plot, from Rumbould's house of that name. All was discovered through a man of the name of Ruling, a salter, who, to save himself from the punishment of a crime of which he was accused, disclosed all the circumstances and the names of the persons engaged in it. This led to an investigation, and one after another, Avith the hope of saving themselves, confessed or confirmed the evidence of Ruling; but one Rumsey, besides this, gave information of the conspirators' meetings at Shepherd's, and the result was that Grey and Hoav ard were arrested. Howard had concealed himself in ra chimney,"and when taken, being a man of no principle, he at once gave information of his confe derates, in the hope that by doing so he would secure both a pardon and reward. Essex, Sidney and Hamp den Avere also apprehended, and others every day discovered and thrown into prison.

Russell was sent to the ToAver, but Monmouth absconded. Subsequently many of the conspirators were executed, and this circumstance might be supposed to set all future rebellious feelings at rest ; but not so. Lord Halifax, seeing how the duke's influence prevailed, resolved on having recourse to Monmouth, and to this end sought out and found his retreat, and prevailed on him to write to the king, express ing his penitence, and begging his forgiveness. Charles was unable to withstand his son's pleadings, and with all the father in his heart invited him to come to court, an invitation which was promptly accepted ; and when he arrived there the king did everything to effect a reconciliation between him and his brother James, Avho felt all these proceedings to be chiefly aimed at him, to prevent his succeeding Charles on the throne.

Confidence being thus established, Charles in duced Monmouth to give him the whole history of the conspiracy and the conspirators, promising that his testimony should never be employed against his friends. To this end he called an extra council, and told them that his son had expressed the greatest penitence for the part he had taken ; had pledged his word never again to be engaged in anything of the kind ; and published a paragraph to that effect. Monmouth waited for his complete pardon, in prison, and then hastened to retrieve his character by denying this public statement ; which so enraged the king that he ordered him to leave the kingdom, and all his confederates also. Monmouth was Charles' eldest illegitimate son, and had been married some years to an amiable lady, who had borne him two children.

She was de votedly attached to her husband, but unfortunately her love had never been returned. In his early youth Monmouth had entered deeply into the dissi pations of his father's court, and in order to correct his profligate habits a marriage was negociated be tween him and one of the ladies of the palace, a friend of the queen's, Avho, although living in an atmosphere so vicious, yet retained the most unble mished purity of character. Monmouth obeyed, me chanically, this Avish of the king; but it failed to effect the desired reformation. He spent little of his time in the society of his wife, but gave himself up to every species of pleasure and gaiety, as before. The Duchess of Monmouth bore the neglect and indifference Avith which she was treated, with mildness and resignation, until reports reached her that 2* another shared in the affection which should have been wholly hers.

Lady Wentworth was a young and beautiful baroness in her own right ; and on her presentation to the queen her beauty had completely captivated Monmouth. The duchess had beheld with sorrow her husband's ill-advised measures and plottings to raise a rebellion, and would have raised her feeble voice against it ; but, knoAving hoAV vain and futile would be any attempt of the kind on her part, forbore. But his banishment from the kingdom filled her with the most unspeakable anguish, not only on account of his absence, but other causes. Monmouth departed, but not alone. His voyage to Holland, whither he bent his steps, was cheered by the presence of Lady WentAvorth, who forsook her parents and her duty to be his companion in exile. Monmouth's object in going to Holland Avas to become the guest of William and Mary, Prince and Princess of Orange ; and they now having ceased to regard him as a rival, received him Avith every de monstration of regard.

Charles' banishment they considered an extremely severe measure ; Avhile to Monmoutlr himself it appeared an evidence of not only a Avant of affec tion for him, but positive hatred. But this Avas a very mistaken idea ; and he Avas soon led to change his opinion. For constant supplies of money reached him from Whitehall, followed by assurances that if no new cause of offence was given, he would speedily be recalled. It was also known that Charles never permitted any one to speak against his banished son in his presence, and in truth he mourned his absence more than any other> for he was his favorite son. Monmouth's personal attractions were great, added to which were manners so blandly elegant that he soon became the reigning favorite among the gay society of the Hague. Lady Wentworth lived in a beautiful retirement at Brabant, whither he often Avent; but whenever he did so his absence cast a gloom over everything that remained behind, and his return was welcomed with general joy.

The unexpected kindness of his father filled his heart with delight ; and balls and parties owed their highest charm to his gay spirits and presence. He introduced the country dance to the Dutch ladies, who in return taught him to skate on the canals. The Princess of Orange (Charles' eldest daughter by his first marriage) entered into this amusement with great spirit, eclipsing all the other ladies in the shortness of her dress, and the expertness of her movements, much to the astonish ment of the English ministers, and the quiet inha bitants of the place. Monmouth Avas the observed, however, of all observers ; and he was in truth an elegant looking and accomplished man. He was, moreover, a king's son, Avhich fact gave him a precedence which none attempted to dispute. Pleasure and ambition were the ruling elements of his character ; and though toying with the hour, amid the festivities which on every side surrounded him, the defeat he had met with rankled deeply in his heart.

Beneath the smiling surface of his hand some countenance a dark shadoAv rested on his soul ; and a future often gleamed forth in brightness before him, as yet in embryo, it is true, and unknown to all save himself, but one on which he pondered Avith great delight, and alloAved nothing to divert him from. He sedulously, however, avoided the Whigs on all occasions, and this was construed by his old asso ciates into a fickleness and an ingratitude on his part, which they little expected. But they did not read aright his motives. He longed incessantly to be released from his present banishment, and endea vored so to comport himself, that his father should hear nothing but favorable reports concerning him. The malcontents, however, continued in heart the same as ever, and knoAving the popularity of Monmouth, tried hard to enlist him in their rest lessness, in some charge or other.

But he refused, and stood aloof and determined amid all their soli citations. In the midst of these private machina- ■21 tions Charles the Second died, mentioning on his deathbed each of his children but Monmouth. Amid the gaiety of the Hague, where time was divided betwixt dancing and skating, news reached the exiled Duke of Monmouth of his father's death. And his grief, it is said, was perfectly overwhelming ; he wept and sobbed during the Avhole night to such an excess that his cries were heard by all Avho lodged near him. The next day he quitted the Hague ; but the Prince and Princess of Orange, ere he did so, extorted from him a promise of never attemptinganything against the government of England. On this they furnished him with all the money he required for his immediate necessities.

This amiable prince and princess Avere actuated toAvards him by the kindest feelings ; and seeing his grief on the death of the king, and pitying his banished, melancholy condi tion, they suggested— as their friendship, if conti nued to be openly expressed, Avould in all probability lead to a rupture with England and Holland — that he should repair to the imperial camp, as the war was then raging between the Hungarians and the Turks, and there he should be provided Avith means suitable for an English nobleman. But Monmouth could not make up his mind to this ; and turning his back on all their schemes, he sought the residence of Lady WentAvorth, where he resolved, as he had now no fears of his father's discovery, to yield to the suggestions of his heart. He had some compunctious visi tings of conscience for his desertion of his dutchess, but he quieted these misgivings by the words Lady Wentworth had so often spoken, that love like theirs was registered in heaven.

When he arrived at Brabant her transports were unbounded ; while tears checked the raptures which this joyful surprise occasioned, at seeing him look so pale and miserable from his late affliction. Every former grievance was now forgotten by Monmouth. His grief for his father subsided under the influence of the devoted love of his Henrietta ; and forgetting the splendors which he had enjoy ed at court, where he was its brightest ornament, the popularity that was his when at the head of a party, and the ambition which had wayed his heart Avhile aspiring to athrone, he gave himself up to those softer feelings Avith her Avhom he delud ed himself by regarding as his true wife in the sight of heaven ; since his present bonds were those of love, and that of his dutchess formed from obedience to his father only.

But he Avas not suffered to enjoy this state of things long. Ferguson used all his arts to draw him from his retreat ; and Grey, whose po verty was most deplorable, and rendered him fit for any enterprise, hoAvever daring, joined in trying to persuade Monmouth to agree Avith them in forming a plan for a descent upon England, as nothing but uni versal dissatisfaction was felt at James' being on the throne, as he was a papist ; to all of which he turned a deaf ear, saying, he was so completely happy Avhere he then was, that he wished for nothing more than to be left in its quiet possession. But those men were not to be discouraged by such romantic arguments, and love at length seconded the persuasions used to ex cite the ambition Avhich they knew once so perfectly ruled in his breast. Lady Wentworth expressed her wish to see the man she loved king of England, offering him all she possessed to sustain a war, con sisting of her diamonds and her rents ; and yielding to the solicitation of her in whose smiles all his happiness was centred, he consented to enter again the lists he had been compelled to abandon, and once more become a candidate for the crown.

Monmouth's marriage in early life he always termed a forced one, and, like all others of its class, where hands, not hearts were paired, it yielded no happiness. The result was that he sought those pleasures abroad which his home could not afford him. During his connec tion with Lady WentAvorth conscience would often intervene, and press upon him the conviction that the connection was a sinful one ; but he tried to justify himself by asserting the love that each felt for the other, and to express his belief that affection like theirs was sanctioned in heaven. He Avent forth, therefore, a second time to conspire against the government of England, and under the pretext of trying to overthrow popery, in his inmost heart to endeavor to possess the crown, that she whom he so devotedly and entirely loved might share it with him.

This movement greatly delighted all the English living in exile for faults like his oavu, and they seized with avidity upon the idea of having him as their lea der ; and collecting in a body, they engaged and fitted out three large vessels, (which they pretended were to sail for the Canaries) to carry them to the British shores. The government of Amsterdam quietly and unsuspectingly alloAved them to depart under this impression, notwithstanding the expostulations of Skelton, the English minister, who remonstrated Avarmly against it, doubting the motiA7es ascribed to those who had lived there, and believing in some rebellious intentions towards Great Britain, tried to influence the admiralty to detain them. But this they refused, and Monmouth and his folloAvers sailed off unmolested. They had a wretched voyage, for the elements threatened, and several men-of-war vessels Avere seen cruising near them, which filled them with long and anxious fears.

But Monmouth escaped both the storms and the enemy. They hailed the Avhite cliffs of Albion as the scene they trusted of future success ; and landing off Dorsetshire sent oneDare on shore at Taunton, to prepare the good people for Avhat was to take place, and to use the influence he possessed, which was considerable, in getting them to join the forthcoming rebellion against the government, for the purpose of overthroAving popery and once more establishing the Protestant religion in the nation, Avith Monmouth for their sovereign. This acted on all ranks like a charm. The cruelties which James had caused the Protestants to endure made them rise for such a movement, and in their hearts he Avas already hailed as their king, and all felt rea dy to fight for such a cause. Monmouth and his party landed June 11th, 1685, at Lyme, a small town situated on a rocky, Avild and seawashed coast.

In the days of the Plantagenets a pier of singular construction was erected there, being built of unhewn, uncemented stones. It was called a cob, and formed the only haven of the place, and Avas an anchorage for fishermen only, as ships rarely put in there, so that when the three vessels containing Monmouth and his party appeared in sight the inha bitants Avere perple.xed beyond measure./The custom house officers, as usual, had boarded them, but con trary to their usual practice, had not returned. This circumstance, in a small to wn,had floAvn like Avild-fire, and wonderment filled every heart. The cliffs Avere covered with spectators, waiting anxiously for an explanation of these mysterious appearances. Soon large boats filled Avith persons put off from one of the ships, then another and another, and made for shore, among Avhom were Monmouth, Grey, An drew Fletcher, a Scotchman, and Ferguson, Mon mouth's tempter to this daring measure.

When they came on land Monmouth kneeled down and devoutly thanked God for his preservation of the friends of liberty and true religion during the perils of the voyage, and besought the divine blessing on the work they were about to engage in, in the nation's behalf, then drawing his sword he de sired all to follow him into the town. On his arrival, as soon as his intention was known, the enthusiasm of the people knew no bounds, the most uproarious applause followed, and the Protes tant religion and Monmouth shouted from all quar ters ; while down with the usurper James, issued from every mouth. A proclamation was read, desiring all military stores in the town to be deposited in the town-hall, and setting forth the nature of their expe dition. Again burst forth shouts and acclamations, and again vociferated the inflated populace against James, calling him by every degraded epithet, and charging him with poisoning the late king, strang ling Godfrey, and cutting the throat of Essex, ending with a resolve that the sword should never rest in its sheath till he was dethroned and executed.

All this was very encouraging and flattering to Monmouth and his party, and their hopes of success rose with every new instance of dislike to the king and his popish administration. form of government proposed by Monmouth took possession of all hearts. It was first for liberty, then for the Protestant religion, with a free tolera tion of all its sects and parties. Then parliaments were to be held annually, not subject to royal caprice as they were now, to be prorogued or dissolved at pleasure. The standing army abolished and a militia substituted in its place, to be commanded by she riffs, and the sheriffs chosen by freeholders. All thisjeadily found an echo in every heart, and to see him who thus stood forward as the crTampion of so ma ny privileges, on the throne, was their greatest desire.